Years ago, I worked for a company whose employee newsletter included a column written by a self-absorbed young marketing executive who was thinking, or so she imagined, deep thoughts. She called the column "Words to Wonder."
Which has that nice ambiance of profound wisdom to it, but actually makes no sense.
So here are some words to wonder:
When I run into Westika at the Red Cup or elsewhere, we smile and nod, but we've never talked. We actually have communicated far more by blog comments than in actual conversation.
I've discovered that when I'm sitting at the Red Cup, or Sauced! or elsewhere, I find myself wondering if a certain other person is going to show up. That's the beginning of chaos.
Mayday, mayday. Danger, Will Robinson.
I occasionally pass up the opportunity to sit with some friends because there may be one or two other women there around whom it is difficult to act in a rational grown-up manner. At least for me. I don't leer and make suggestive comments -- just the opposite, in fact. I sit still and shut the fuck up out of fear that if I open my mouth at all something awesomely inane will force its way out and parade around the table with a kazoo and bass drum to make sure everyone notices it.
I had a conversation with some acquaintances the other day who feel that they have too much chaos and drama in their lives, but also are afraid that getting centered will destroy their creativity forever.
It doesn't work that way. Getting centered is just the first step. Then you have to stay that way. A person is far more likely to slide back into samsara than to find themselves somehow permanently stuck, even against their will, in a calm enlightened (and not necessarily 'capital E enlightened') state. This is why the Buddha talked about mindfulness - it requires constant attention. Staying in the moment and all that.
But the slope is getting a little slippery for me right now. Not real slippery, but a little slippery.
Words to wonder.
Coals to Newcastle.
Kirk to Enterprise.
Hart to Hart.
Tinker to Evers to Chance.
3 comments:
What you and many other people may not know about "erika" is that she spends at least ten minutes mid-morning in quiet meditation, letting it all come in, go out, just be, (i can't help but notice as I write this the little security checkpoint "retype these letters" message seriously--i kid you not, i'm so fucking serious--says jezus'--oh my god, i'm freaked out--letting it go for the moment) I've always trusted more in writing than speech. So the fact that we nod is respecting something we know is more inside than chit-chat blah-blah-ruin-it-all kind of nothingness. I respect what you say when you are by yourself with your computer that pretends to be a connective tissue/translator. Writing is permanent, takes more guts, takes more commitment. "Words to Wonder" makes absolutely no sense. I agree.
I don't know why I said "pretends" to be. It is.
You wrote:
I've discovered that when I'm sitting at the Red Cup, or Sauced! or elsewhere, I find myself wondering if a certain other person is going to show up. That's the beginning of chaos.
I have ongoing relationships with women I haven't seen nor spoken to in years. All between my ears. I have lavish love affairs and rugged repetitive arguments with others -- in private thought alone. I have my I wish I'd saids and my what I'm going to say next times that reverberate for days, weeks and even years later.
It's a madness. A curse and a bane.
It's an enemy consciousness, an intelligence that attacks me and pulls me down. It's Churchill's black dog.
It's how I relive my humiliations and defeats, how I torture myself with my fears.
And in crowds and alone, I am with myself.
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