I discovered this new place, it’s nothing and everything at the same time. I will tell you all about it, this oasis in the desert with unknown forces, with childish monsters waiting to pop out and consume me. Am I to be consumed?
There is a space I go to find out things. I used to call it the dreamtime. I wouldn’t say it is an altered state, but more quiet, a silent falling into myself. My deep space. Understanding happens there, when I am not fully present in the room. I just understand things, because I know myself. The other knowledge has been recently challenged by another space. I don’t have a name for it yet. It’s like I physically close my eyes. Then, I close another layer of eyes. Thought forms happen there. Shapes, symbols and sounds vibrating through my body. I don’t know their meaning, yet. Most times, when I open my physical eyes, I can fully pull myself out of it. And sometimes, the effects are residual, the vibration and forms continue to dance throughout me. When I get up, and start focusing on my mundane existence, create art, fish on Facebook or peer out the window watching carefully how the leaves sway on the trees… I become desensitized to my internal workings. That didn’t happen yesterday.
I don’t know what I was feeling exactly. Intersectionality comes to mind. I imagine my emotions were at the intersection, some going east and west, some following traffic rules but most weren’t. I was frustrated because I am tired of dealing with other’s lack of empathy for an invisible diseases that give me an appearance of normalcy. I was afraid, fearing my failure to properly assess my limitations and capabilities and questioning if I can truly manage my life in the mundane. I was confused by all these creative directions I am taking, none of which have a thesis (I had to take a medical leave of absence from grad school before they taught me how to thesises). Everything is organic, loose and spontaneous which serve absolutely no purpose other than an outlet for my raw self expression. In application though, I still need to develop a theoretical approach. This is my “work” even though it doesn’t pay rent or pay my children’s tuition. I felt abandoned because I project my needs for attachment (aka love) on fantasy boyfriends, internet friends who pay me absolutely no attention. An ongoing mechanism with me, my first boyfriend, as a girl, had no idea he was mine! So, my twin flame soul mate won’t talk to me, (feed my fantasy), and I am internalizing familiar feelings of abandonment, lonliness and isolation. I was overwhelmed because, in terms of mundane life, my movement is stagnant. I’m paralyzed by my martyrdom, I don’t want to cause others’ pain, I choose to live in a lie, causing my own demise rather than take action I know will hurt my family. And I am wishing too much for passports and unlimited travel funds to distant lands. I decided I need to live on an island, on the beach, eating fresh fruit off jungle trees and weaving baskets from vines. Suicidal ideation morphs for me. I envision walking into the wilderness to live the rest of my days as a hermit, or becoming a nun in a monestery, or creating a living art installation on the third floor of my house, never to separate from my creation. That’s me becoming a painting. 50 people were massacred today because they are free and different, and I easily tapped into the horror and grief of the event. I prayed diligently for them. That was good. But why on earth did I begin to look at images of dead people in varying degrees of mutilation from violence. No wonder when I went to my spot, I got fucking sucked up into deep space…
I have a “spot”. I spend so much time dreaming that it is electrically charged or I am programmed to be pulled into my deep space upon contact. Started with the soles of my feet, creeping up my legs to my womb. Not vibration but an actual ache, I had to cross my legs to bare the paralyzingly discomfort. My mind fluctuated between awareness and being pulled into the newness. Once I was there, it was immense! It was dark! It was nothing! I was terrified and thought this may be my death. I was in the “in between” space awaiting judgement. But there was nothing there. No sound, no method for frequency to travel or express. There was no second closing of eyes to see thought forms. No seeing. And my spirit could not reach! I could not reach for anything; no spiritual principle, no ancestors, no love! I cried. I cried because I was alone feeling what seemed to be some other pain. I was feeling a pain that didn’t belong to me. With all the power within me I tried to sense beyond sensation anything, was there an edge, an ending? There was not. Silent tears continued to flow and I cried for my mother, my grandmother, my grandfather; the people who I knew loved me but not living. As if I turned inside out, the internal void I experienced my whole life suddenly manifested as where I was housed, where I was now trapped waiting for something, anything to happen. Alone. There was no rescue, no comfort, no escape.
The rebel in me spoke. Fine, I will be alone then. I stood my ground. I don’t know what brought me back. The pain in my legs and stomach was nauseating so I got up. Then, I slept.
*to be continued*