The moon has climbed way over Venus in the past week, and is fleshing out into its quarter form. Waxing, waxing. At one point it was an open mouth or arced arms drawing Venus down to it. Now it is above and moving to the east, its ass, curved yet closed, snubbing low-riding Venus. I'm still attracted to the dance up there, but it's not as intimate or delicate as it was just after Christmas. And I'm in my house on a Friday night, looking out the big windows. Being on the mountain is lighter, my body disappears, I don't feel the ringing bell in my knees. But I'm here, I'm here. And I don't think I'm going anywhere. I'm weary, I think. I've made it through the Holidays and the darkest time of the year and it feels like I need a recharge. I haven't partied in months, but I've fought all sorts of maladies for 8 weeks, my body adjusting to life without alcohol. Today, at LOKA, an acquaintance asked me if I've been feeling good since I stopped drinking. I took a moment, and squinted with thought. "No, I haven't. In fact, I've been sick several times...but I think I'm at the threshold of that vitality, that organ hum that I knew eventually would assert itself. And I've paid the opportunity cost of 100+ days; paid the price an old girlfriend told me I'd pay one day if I stopped partying for long enough to let loose the toxins that the alcohol and drugs have forced into covert operations. The thought of that warning was always with me and often I used it as a rationalization for the partying - "It keeps me young, you know? Just enough of everything, right?" But now that I've gone through this gauntlet - if a doc had told me that I'd get stomach viruses, tooth infections, earaches, GI tract meltdowns, and energetic malaise, I'd likely have prolonged my procrastination - fuck if I'm going to miss out on feeling insanely, unstoppably, uncontrollably, ridiculously good. You know? But, still, it's a Friday night and I don't know what the fuck to do with myself. I got a text from Crystal who's rallying people for her 25th birthday. That'll get ugly. I got a text from little, crazy dancing Sarah that Unstrung Heroes are playing at El Monte. That ought to be a good stomp and grind, but that place is way too bright and perky and garish and I know the bartenders too well. It's not that I can't deflect the drinks they'll instinctively give me (yes, "give" me), but the bridge from sitting here at my desk in my warm house to rallying without alcohol or drugs, driving 12.5 miles into town, and peeling back the curtains to enter that stage...I don't think I have that mojo. But that worries me. I'm torn between the thought that "hey, I've put this guy through a lot the past couple of years, hell the past 20 years, and now I'm listening to my center and my center says hang out, write for a bit, drink water, stretch, and then get under the covers and watch a good movie, read yourself to sleep and dream, fly, heal as long as the system says so" and "hey, what's wrong with you, dude? You're low energy, hiding from the people...maybe you're depressed? Maybe there's a natural gas leak in the house? Maybe you have serious colon problems and they're leaving you all woozy because you're diseased?" The hypochondriac "don't want to miss out" guy versus the "give myself a break/I've done enough/ there will always be parties/listen to my intuition" guy. The latter is winning, no doubt, and the later it gets (now 7:39), the easier it is to give in and shut'er all down.
The battle of evermore. I have to set myself up for balance. My pendulum has swung toward hermitage. There will be a correction toward the middle, though I dream of being a monk. But monkdom, in this life, will be amonkst people. I know this. What that means is that I will write and publish (even if I have to do it myself), and act, and mcee, and drum, and bartend, and teach, heal, learn to play the fiddle, sing, take devastating pictures, take yoga classes, bullshit at cafes, tucker myself out with acts of creation and kindness ("Good Deed'n" as my old friend, Marc Batyr, would say - and do!), and, as often as I can, get my body up into the trees and above to the crags, where I disappear in what I know is my ancient homeland.
Ahhh, now I can eat some chocolate, take off my clothes, pop in a DVD, and chill the freak out.
The green door may be unlocked, but we'll leave entry for another day.
2 comments:
Yippppeeeee! You wrote, yes you wrote and all real sentences about your life about your struggles and I don't know you but I'm so proud of your human strength, questioning and willingness to expand while keeping your eyes on the sky. Keep your heart sight open, walk through the fire, I believe in you.
This one is really good, really moving. I had to come back to it, woke up thinking about this first thing. The movement, your inner journey and intentions. Your writing of this began to create in me thoughts about of the dragon of appetites versus the life giving dragon of the soul. Untie the body and untie the mind, i think I read that once by Rumi.
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