pruning

Falling, mortally wounded by exhaustion, both physical and psychological, to sleep, I dream and in the dreams are dialogs. And this one was a massive endless conversation about love. In reference of which I now envision pruning the tree of myself. The less productive parts away that the tree not merely survive but grow stronger and taller . . . and it hurts!

About her is the promise of a Promised Land, what I’ve sought for a lifetime. And for which and what I am dying for. Yet my courage flags, fails, slumps like a wrung out dish towel quavering. Her courage is equal, if not greater, to mine and proven over four years organically. Love sweet and savage tending to those about to die with kindness and compassion; a love that transcends gender expression. For to see us is nothing special just two people in love inwardly blazing a conflagration.

Fiction in order to be coherent must be probable but, reality is improbable; our love affair, by any definition, is a rouge wave http://encyclopedia.thefreedictionary.com/rogue+waveupon we, for now, are surfing not submerged. I could but refuse to detail the analysis or the winds that move me about life. My sole intention being to vivify your soul into being the primary motive of living. Love, after all, is the greatest force and power, of greater value than any measure of success I know of.

If, at times, I flag and quail, it is more so this moment, in recognition of what is drawing us together. Drawn up from the ground of my being, I still think myself a “bad person” incapable of surviving the storm of love. Add to date the events, momentous in themselves, would be sufficient for an eternity absent the next moment, day, year or what might be a lifetime together; no matter how long or brief.

I think, at times, The Author of me, of us, we all, has a sense of humor terrifying; and so I know what it is to “fear the Lord” in ways both pleasurable and painful. For me this move is a kind of death bereft of any promised success. Annie, my companion cat, is of course, a part of my most serious concern: my principal reason for returning to Las Cruces. Anything else is, by descending order of importance, all that I care to take forward with me.

“Is life not a thousand times too short for us to bore ourselves?” - Nietzsche

By free and random associations quotes have become the grape shot ventilating my imagination and synchronicity. Then too, add, the various interactions between broadcast news, NPR, and various conversations and encounters. Add the mixture into the stone soup of my mind an out comes what I write; a synthesis.

“Cats are angels with fur.” - Sark

It’s the ‘smells and bells’ of my worshipful life . . . though, sometimes, as now, spindled and mutilated by exhaustion, I am impelled forward. To say I love The Author and she to whom I go towards is to say little for the experience in vast. I am a person who makes things happen, not a viewer nor a wonderer about what happened. For those I love and know well I am savage in that. . . .am I willing to sacrifice myself and Annie? I wonder! Pray for me.

Worth mentioning: Collecting quotes is for me not dissimilar to Bible Bingo; randomly opening the Bible and meditating upon what I find. Begun long ago when a minister suggested it was possible to write one self into sanity by keeping a journal. The result is a marvelous disrespect and reverence for everyone and everything. Not a slayer of the powerful so much as a jester.

To pray is not merely to lay face down upon cathedral flags saying, “Here am I send me.” It is to engage life upon the hoof entering the cyclone.

Where I go is more important than what I take with me; this simple fact makes the entire move simpler. Lighter. My concerns irrelevant. This process, begun long ago, proves itself repeatedly. Providing me with a wondrous array of options to write about. Here I am tempted to post additional clues, so stunning, even to me, that I refuse to eclipse the process in yourself; the Author’s dialog with you.

08:12

My unremitting ignorance has led me to slander those who purport public service. Thus discrediting myself wholesale. Yet following the above mentioned methodology I am gleaning an education and sense, in the near future, an ability to communicate some small insights to those like me, lifelong victims of the rich, powerful and forceful. Having forgiven my parents I now include those I once slandered. Intending to make peace possible in our time before all time ends. Conscious that no one ideology can suffice, it is we who must participate responsibly in the struggle against ignorance of how we make choices . . . did I just reinforce “Love your enemy”?

That said, I cannot love: intolerance, hate, violence, war, ignorance, fanaticism, bigotry or zealotry.

No one institution or person is my enemy since I see what is not obvious to either myself or they I address. Nothing is what it seems. It is that I was taught I was too stupid to live that has brought me thus far and too well aware of how much further there is to go. Instead of being crushed I am vivified by the challenge.

130616 MDT 03:11 pruning

© 2013 by Jack Spratt—All Rights Reserved