I am out of alignment.
I have spoken of cycles that run for a month. And here I am, recognizig one. Up, down, level, repeat. I am an aeroplane. Taxi for takeoff, ascent, leveling off, cruising altitude,
losing altitude, crash landing.
Use your heavy pain-body as a flotation device, my son.Miles from my favorite mountain and years removed from the bluest ocean, I lay soaked in an ancient pain. Yesterday I returned to the reading of a book given to me by one of my more
free spirited friends. I shelved the book I was reading, due the extremely bitter tone of the author and, in search of draping myself in some new colors, I picked up
A New Earth for the first time since September. In the chapter I left off, the author speaks of pain-bodies, both universal and organic to the individual. This is a subject I have never scoffed at, surely a matter of pain is present everywhere and in no way do I deny the existence of collective pain and the near visibility of certain pain when shone in the appropriate light. This time, this day, it is a time for me to not only observe, recognize, and reflect, but to act. I must act, as some pain is heavy on me now. My hands are sore, my stomach feels distended and full with a black mass. My feet, my primary carriage, are weathered and weak. My sleep has disappeared. I am once again, a city of night. No man is an island? Are you sure?
The suit I am in is not strange to me, but like the writer said in a fashion that was extraordinarily potent to me, 'There is nothing you can do about the fact that at this moment
this is what you feel'.
There is nothing I can do about the fact that Wednesday was a day of weakness.
Despite a successful mission to avoid caffeine after my first two morning cups for the last two weeks, and a drop-dead time of Noon regardelss of what time I wake up [if I wake up past noon I will not drink any caffeine], my sleep patterns are back to the irregular wave that has defined my daily rhythm since I was a child.
No caffeine? Check.
Chewable melatonin when I need it? Check.
Mint teas, no television watching in the bedroom, good books on the night stand, silken and velvet blindfold to wear when trying to fall asleep. Check check gosh darn check.
So where am I?
Awake at 0030 hours.
Who am I?
Gregor Samsa with an incomplete night's sleep. Half insect, half man, lamenting the rainy skies. Boo-hoo, my progression was interrupted, excuse my appearance, would you please close the window?
I revisited the PSC tonight, which I resigned from 4 weeks ago [a subject not covered here] to retrieve my
TAPS rig. I then went to Whole Foods and had dinner: Baby spinach and field greens with EVOO and balsamic vinegar, vegan Mexican coleslaw, three vegan Indian Dal burgers made of peas, lentils, potatoes, onions, carrots, and almond meal, and some tasty vegan Newman O's, which are dairy/egg/wheat free chocolate and cream sandwich cookies [vegan Oreos]. I drank water, I took my multi-vitamin, and I laundered my yoga gear. I set both alarms, drank another glass of water, and was excited to slumber for a scheduled 7 hours and then attend another Bikram Yoga class at 0530. Thinking that rest and recovery would come with the night, I find myself again in the suit that is just oh-so fitting of one Will Williams. Awake in the middle of the
curse word night, with no one else around - the solitary foot soldier doing battle with his own chemistry, environment, and lack of foresight. The steps taken must be completed. Lighter colors in my head, theraputic music, reduction, addition by subtraction, slow conversion to vegan living, more balance, and less aggression.
But will I complete the path? Do you beleive in me? Do you know me beyond my web log? Have you any idea the failures I have impressed upon myslef by making bad decisions while exercising ZERO precaution?
Will W2 continue to listen to The Dave Matthews Band when relaxation is in order?
Does he stop acting recklessly?
Will the reduction plan become the norm?
Does antithesis meet the homeostatic, and will synthesis bring homeostasis to a new level, a new plane?
Is it all just . . .
lunacy?
I make this bed, I sleep in it. Rather, I make this bed, I lay in it for an hour with my eyes closed, and then stand up wide awake less than two hours into the night. I refuse to be angry. I refuse to sit here and act bitter as I think that while typing this I have figured out what suit I am in presently.
Sounding a wee bit altruistic here, but I think [hope] I have absorbed someone else's pain.
'That's all I have to say about that'.
Forward march,
Will
ADDENDUM
No less than one half hour after this post was published, a knock at the door. A friend who I have known since our junior year of high school came in search of solace. Partied up out of his mind and lost in his own dark space, he needed to get off the road. He was driving UI and in fear of arrest came to the stud hut. I sat with him while he unloaded 20 years worth of tragic circumstance and offered what I could. I conversed with another friend way before all of this and said a modified prayer to absorb some of that pain. And as I posted of my own weaknesses and pined for sleep normality, my friend arrived beaten and broken by life, chemicals, and the weight of a life lived for everyone but himself. 80% of what he told me I did not know about him. He was highly intoxicated and still in possession of his 'meds'. I sat there in the very presence of poison and abstained from it's bite. I ask now that while he tries to sleep this one off in the basement, I can absorb the toxins as a means of relieving him, not to entertain myself.
This was one of the weirdest nights I have ever had. And no, I did not go to yoga. To leave him for yoga would have been tantamount to ending our friendship and the trust he placed in me to hear his weeping out loud. I will be goshdarned if I did not just pass some sort of test.
Wow
W2
