A Cartoonish Look of Outrage

IMG_3566.jpg

from left to right – Big Red and Phyllis Diller

“As I have told you before, those who speak to you in terms of guilt; ignore them. Those who tell you that to be spiritual is not to be physical do not understand the great physical-spiritual nature of your being. They have not dreamed in their minds. They have not sparkled in themselves like stars and so experiencing night they think that existence is dark.”  ~  Seth, spoken through Jane Roberts

Oh, good, the space heater just kicked in; now I don’t have to reach over there to turn the thermostat up. I can hear the cat nibbling kibble. And somebody better damn well make some more coffee. Shit. It’s just me and the cat, so the onus is on me. Seems I have a little bit of profanity going this morning. It’s just a social convention that makes it so, a convention that can be fun if you use it the right way. I hope I’m doing it right. Probably just a by-product of my very achy body in conjunction with a hazy mind. Oh, by the way – Happy Easter. Whatever. Ostara has passed, and I’m a neo-pagan, but there is room for everyone. I could say that I have to wait for Beltane, if I want to be festive, but I can bask in the glow from those who do find reverence in the holiday they practice on this day. My old friend, Jimmy the Welder liked to say that every day is a holiday. Let’s leave it at that.

The sinus infection has taken to cycling. Comes and goes as far as my attention and perception is concerned. The Nurse Practitioner gave me a 10-14 day course of doxycycline, and I will stay the course, regardless of pharmaceutical naysayers. They don’t have to deal with this dense rock of a head. I’ve got a headache. As for some deeper and holistic source of my recurrent sinus troubles I could say it is a manifestation from Spirit. Likely so. But I must also consider that the ventilation in my head was long ago compromised when I had my face punched in by my bicycle handlebars. Poor me, right. Why Spirit had me relate to the handlebars in that manner is a question that has haunted me for over three decades. I don’t think that an answer is really the point here. The point is that I keep thinking about it as time goes on. It’s a WTF that keeps on giving. It has bothered me enough that I wrote a book about it. Oh, that reminds me  .  .  .

I finally finished reading Debra Diamond’s wonderful book, Life After Near Death. Debra nailed it. Of course I am endlessly delighted to be one of thirteen principle case studies in the book. That’s not the point. What really moved me – which is like moving a piano, at times – was to feel the energy behind the words, so perfectly crafted, in relation to how NDEs reshape the lives of us experiencers, as time goes on, which is especially poignant when you look at how most of us also got a look at how time ain’t really linear, at all. So many people, at just the mention of NDEs, go all Love and Light and stuff. Yeh, there’s that. But that ain’t the half of it. Listen: don’t try this at home, k? You don’t want to go there. The thing is that our exposure to that extreme level of energy harmonics made a normal daily life, after exposure, about as probable as a wise, complete phrase from Donald Trump. And she speaks of feelings of isolation as well. That’s been a big one for me, and I am deeply grateful for Debra’s descriptions of how those feelings seem to be pretty much permanent for us NDE folks. Some of us. I was ostracized from the very minute I returned to daily, mundane life, maybe because I wanted to talk about the most magical, mind-bending experience I’d ever had, and I wanted folks to know that there is a much higher level to this thing called life, and gosh durn it it’s all about energy and vibrations, and Light, and mind, and body and soul. It was pretty clear that, with all that kind of talk, I had become a weirdo. Whatever. Life After Near Death focuses of the after-effects of NDEs. My after-effects, the ones that Debra wrote about in her book anyway, have to do with enhanced hearing and the occasional disturbances I conjure with electrical and electronic stuff. Some of it has faded over the years. But I still can’t wear a watch, because I kill them just by wearing them. Used to be that I could blow out a light bulb just by moving nearby. The enhanced hearing is the oddest thing.That has faded a tad, but mostly I have learned to manage it, thus keeping it at a dull roar. The thing is, I can sometimes hear a conversation, word for word, from across a large room, even as big as a supermarket. And if somebody is talking about me, at a distance, I can hear it as a clear whisper in my left ear when I am out of earshot. It’s the darndest thing! I’m not real fond of it, but it has proven to be indispensable at times. People get the funniest looks when they get busted for talking behind my back. I remember one woman in my recent past who got a hilarious cartoonish look of outrage on her face when I told her something she had said about me. I hadn’t even been in the room when she said it. “HOW DID YOU KNOW THAT??!!”. But don’t worry. My filters usually keep out this kind of hearing. It only busts through the filters when there is a clear and present threat of some kind. OMG you should have seen her face, made even more comical by the Red Bull jitters she had in the first place. Geez lady, ya didn’t have to say it in the first place.

It’s a peaceful morning, once again. My mental fog is lifting nicely. It is 16º as I write this. It is laundry day, and then if the opinions of my achy bones can be trusted it will likely be a movie for me this afternoon. It’s been fun writing this morning. Thanks for reading. Y’all come back now, y’hear.

Peace out. Goof gloriously.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s