Tuesday, December 23, 2014

Simultaneous Incarnation and the Freedom of Will

Last night I had a dream. Momentarily, as happens in dreams, I was driving.

I passed a pick-up truck, a long wheel base Ford, newer model with the passenger side wheel flat and torn, as if the driver was too lazy to leave the truck and change the tire, driving for miles, damaging the rim.

He was parked diagonally in the road, forcing everyone to pass behind him in a zig-zag fashion. The passenger, a young white man with stringy hair and a middle age look about him, stared at me as I went by, his face expressionless, but still somehow full of anger... at me.

I was forced to wind through a road crew situated immediately after the downed Ford. The whole time I could feel the man's eyes on the back of my neck. 

The road crew was engaged in the business of senselessly cutting down very large, very beautiful trees. They all had blank looks on their faces, waving flags and moving robotically.

Further down the road I came to a strip mall which managed somehow an old world quaintness. 

Lined up were three stores with brightly colored signs, busy and full of customers.

I had to pee.

I entered the long pizza parlor, a nice looking place with two front doors and a long bar, such as those in a TV diner, many tables in a row along the front windows.  The decor was all green and red, typical pizzeria furnishings.

I waited my turn to use the toilet. It was a very short toilet, situated at the end of the row of dining tables, where the last chair should have been. next to the front entry door on the right.

This made it easy to leave the restaurant as soon as one was...finished. The tank of the toilet actually stuck a few inches into the doorway.

The man before me was seated for a while. He finished his turn, wiped, and immediately left through the door.  How nice and convenient, I thought, to put the toilet so close to an exit. No one noticed as the man left the building, flushing and exiting in a quick movement.

I unzipped my pants and proceeded to urinate. It was loud.

No one took notice.

I remember staring at the clear water in the white bowl. My urine was clear like water, I noted. When I was finished I flushed the toilet. To my dismay it became instantly backed up and overflowed. Luckily, being situated so close to the front door, much of the water simply poured out of the building onto the sidewalk.

I thought, very briefly, how much foresight it must have taken, how genius it was to put the toilet next to the front door, for just such an emergency. I stared as the water spun and overflowed. I realized that the man before me must have left quite a large package to clog up the works so badly.

The restauranteur came over, a thin man of average height wearing a green apron, and shushed me out of the way. He began to reach down and “fix” the problem. I did not see the actual action of his hands, his method, he was just shuffling below me as I zipped my pants. But I do not recall him as wearing any gloves.     

Then, looking up, I noticed the rest of the customers, all holding their slices in hand, staring aghast at me for daring to overflow the toilet in their presence. I stared back for a minute, the pizza man having somehow disappeared entirely from the scene, or else I would have engaged him somehow. An apology perhaps. Hide behind him maybe. 

Although I knew it was the fault of the man before me, or at least his dietary choices. To everyone else...in the pizzeria...with the dining chair toilet...the toilet in the room where they were eating, with the man zipping up his pants and the sound of splashing, overflowing water,  I...was the fool who overflowed the toilet.  Therefore,  I was mortified.

I left through the conveniently placed front door as quickly as I could.   

The night before this, I dreamed I was a young farm girl, hiding from my dead grandfather in a barn, pleasuring my own vagina.


1: I Am Nobody

At the age of 13, on the trip back to our country home, as our car exited the Interstate, halfway down the off-ramp, I was struck by the realization that everything is one thing. All people are the same person.

It occurred to me that God is an instinctive knowledge, as is the physical imperative to die.

This is all I am to you, no more.

I remember the instant of that realization, and the manner in which it tied many thoughts together in a multi-directional web, backwards to my earlier self, and flowing into the now.

Consider this a poem if that better serves you.

Consider me whatever you wish, to fit my purpose of your eyes, which is mine to keep you. But please consider me further. I seem to have need to say this.

Bear with me a moment more.

What is your world? What is your truth? What keeps the universe from slipping into the hollow?

For me, one of these things is my belief that there is a sentient Godhead.

Somewhere in the midst of flux between the amorphous potential and the realization of physics there is a knowing being which is both everything and only itself.

I do not believe within its own structure it has testicles or a vagina.

I don't believe it has two legs and a beard.
I imagine what personal shape there is to be there, more like that of a ginger root.

I believe it is in the constant process of being everything and aside from everything, is a viewer/feeler, like magical cat's whiskers.

It is my firm belief, I must also admit, that we must consider this a delusion.

There is absolutely NO WAY to measure, calculate, view, properly quantify, prove or noticeably verify this being.

I believe it, as instinct.

This to me, is faith.

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