“Light and darkness dancing together, born together, born of each other, neither preceding, neither following, both fully being in joyful rhythm.” ~ Madeleine L’Engle
A couple of days ago I was listening to an audiobook of Carlos Castaneda’s A Separate Reality. I’ve read all of the first seven of his books at least twice. One concept in the sorcerer’s training is the practice of controlled folly. To me it comes across as the practice of impeccable action that isn’t really situational at it’s source. The situation isn’t what drives or influences the action. The action is pure intent through intuition. For some reason, while listening to Don Juan explaining, or trying to explain, controlled folly to Carlos I thought of the way we depressives have to sometimes “put on a happy face”. Not speaking for anyone else, I find that when I put on happiness and courteousness, when all I really want to do is hide, or to go through the day snarling and snapping and brooding and taking a swing at something or someone, the happiness and courtesy is actually real. It is not a false face nor a brave face. Nor does this realness take away from the dark magic of depression. So what you have is two seemingly opposed moods existing at the same time. Both are real. It’s not a paradox. It’s a creative act. But the genuine nature of the illness doesn’t give sway. It can be forgotten, sometimes for long spans of sweet time, but it is there waiting when the will grows weak. At the end of a hard day’s work I sometimes feel trepidation at the thought of coming home. I’m tired, the will is weak. But controlled folly won’t hold sway with the cat. All she wants is food at that moment. But my point here is to explain, or attempt to, why I can feel so tired all the time, my face slightly scrunched in pain that refuses to remain hidden, the spring in my step faded to a clomp, and trusty anxiety rattling everything on sight. It take a lot of energy to hold will power up against the darkness within. Now – Enough of that.
The fine fellow above is Justin. He is commonly known, among his handlers, as a grouchy and somewhat dangerous animal. I’ll grant them that, he can be that way. But I took it to task to get closer to Justin, without getting sliced or punctured. It’s a personal project. I want all y’all to know that in my worldview it impossible to avoid something that seems to me to be a fact: I must change right alongside Justin. I can’t make him do anything. He won’t budge if I don’t. I’ve made significant strides with my furry feline friend. I can handle him and box with him without injury. Bear in mind that cats are friggin dangerous! But now, when he bites, it is in a rather somber-seeming playful way, as if he is down with our playtime, training time, whatever, yet he retains the distinct notion that he isn’t supposed to be participating. He sometimes gets this delightfully confused look on his face, like why am I doing this? It’s not supposed to be this way. What I get out of it is that I have to appeal to and then reconnect with my own animal nature. Friggin upper primate, upright house apes, mobile vehicles for the monkey mind. Oops! Sorry, I had a momentary lapse of reason. Now, by having this reunion with the animal within I have greater access to the Gaian consciousness. Before I slide too far off course here I will return to Justin by saying that the more I trust him, which is difficult at first, and the more I trust my own nature, then the more it all comes together. It takes time, patience, and will. Justin has ‘shelter shock’; my own term for whatever glitches develop when a cat is incarcerated. My theory is that he is grouchy and mildly dangerous because he is locked up. We have this in common.
Hey, why don’t we have a ‘note in closing’ today, shall we?! It should be fun. I have a situation currently that, when it first occurred, picked me up like a rag doll in the grip of the Goddess and showed me the Cosmos, holding me there until I grokked, at which point she put me back down, into the moment, and I was like all wha’. HA! And all y’all thought that the moment is all there is? Ain’t ya stepped outside lately? There is more beyond the moment. The moment ain’t nuthin compared to what . . . I had best leave that train of thought lie before I go on and piss somebody off. Oh, did I tell you that the goddess didn’t just leave me there to wonder? No, she told me to wait. She told me to friggin wait. At least waiting has one nice benefit. It means there is more to come. I love a good story, and this is a good one. As Freud said, one owes oneself discretion. That’s all folks. I ain’t tellin’ no more.
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.