I don’t need to still be angry. I’m still afraid but, heck no, not angry.
I’m afraid of what the outcome will be if I do this, if I do that, or if I don’t do a single thing.
I need to come back.
I feel like I’m channeling something.
I-I-I-I-I feel like all the self-help books I’ve read over the years are doing a number on me.
I feel like the current moment is some kind of Opening Act for another moment.
Using the word—the letter—“I”—to open every sentence. Maybe it’s not a bad thing, not totally selfish. Maybe I need to say “I-I-I…” to really dig deep and see who or what this “I” is.
After all, you and I are still in the same boat together, in many respects.
The Universal “I.” The Collective Self: Humanity.
In the stillness I seek in between writing breaks, it’s the strangest thing—all the New Age stuff I’ve already read, all the Spirituality I sought—
To hell with selling out! I think I am just starting to comprehend some of this stuff—way after the fact. I feel like a woman in love—I feel it in my gut—my belly.
Might not have to look into others to know, to see, to be, to believe my self.
My God, if I could come to the point in time when I can see others in myself, instead of the other way around? Maybe that’s what it is… Maybe, my goals keep changing.
See? Right there: Maybe I am changing my goals.
Maybe I do have…my self.
This is way deep.
At this point, I lie in bed with this notebook, and it’s like a constant splitting of epiphanies—totally embracing me.
And I have to remind myself: “Ben, don’t worry if these intensely intellectual and spiritual epiphanies, and flitting feelings of bliss and grace, will end. Just go with them. Let it all stop if it all stops.”
The mind chatter is OK. The terrifying thoughts I am having right this moment are OK. They’ve nothing to do with me.
They’re just thoughts!
You may not be able to discern what normal disagreements or misunderstandings are.
But for the love of God, don’t worry about it.
More than that: Don’t ever worry about anything.
The chaos in me is the chaos of God—the community of me, and of you.
Don’t worry about how you’re coming across to others.
I reply to myself:
I can’t beat it. I can’t beat the universe. It keeps changing, like the weather.
I dive into it.
As painful as it is…I let it go.
I’ll lose Claudia.
I’ll be attacked by symptoms.
But I have to trust…everything.
Trust. Trust. Trust.
Trust: I’ll be able to sleep tonight.
Trust: I don’t need to find myself through Georgie, or porn, or scat (or anything). The truth is inside.
“There’s no place like home…There’s no place like home…”
—The Wizard of Oz