Pilgrimage of Humility

On the airplane. We will make a connection in Paris and arrive in Rome. I just finished the Adam Sandler movie Go With It. I rather feel like curling up alone and crying, but I don't cry around other people, and I'm not alone, so, luckily, I won't. This pent up sadness is in larger reserves than I originally thought. It was so excellent to see Nicole last night. We were such close friends. We were inseparable! We went to London, Amsterdam, Switzerland, San Francisco together. Numerous concerts; Pennywise, Gwar, Slayer, Tool, A Perfect Circle, Ozzfest, Lollapalooza, ...whatever the punk fest was, lots more I can't remember. We tried to skateboard together, made up ideas and drawings for comic books together, worked together, slept next to each other, spoke in our sleep together. Defended each other, comforted each other, kept no record of money spent on each other. Painted crazy looking make-up on each other, dressed to complement each other, told off guys for each other. So many things I'd experienced little or nothing of before or again. It was so good to hear her tell me she didn't care about the past. I told her how for the past 10 years I had simply given up on having a best friend like that again. I'm so happy to have finally passed all these years into this new part of my life. I know nothing about what other people experience in life, each soul experiences everything differently. I am only privy to what I experience. I want to be a good thing in other people's lives. I want to make them laugh and help them find happiness, to see beauty.
Sometimes we are at our worst when we are the most content. When I was happily married, I took my artwork for granted. I soon learned it was the only constant in my life. My eyes have been further opened to reexamine myself. I see so many errors, so much selfishness, probably an old habit formed through feeling sorry for myself. I now see that I have been the one to invite disappointment into my life by expecting to be let down. Even in my joking, I accuse those close to me of crimes they've not committed. The joking is a tool, a a weapon of manipulation used to oppress and control, just as negative as anything less subtle. Why, all these wasted years, did I, in my pride, deny this? I covered it up and made excuses for it instead of seeing the damage I was doing and amending it.
Now, I'm trapped in my private thoughts, at last, forced to confront my real monster; me. Let me continue to be sensitive to the gossip people start and let me end it. Let me see my own faults before I examine those of others. Allow me to fix myself before I bring more pain to anyone else. Help me to be the love conduit. Purge my spirit. When I gaze upon the masters' works I am about to see, let it absorb into my soul that I attain true humility. When I see Caravaggio's hand at work, Michelangelo's La Pieta, da Vinci's genius, Bernini, Botticelli, who knows who will surprise me there with another lesson to humble my frame, let it kill the parts of me that remain vain and weak that I demand the most grueling work to be completed in high quality or not at all. It is time for me to wake up. It is time for me to truly work, to have self-respect and to respect those around me and in my life. It is time for me to be humbled and to create for the beckoning of my muse. My muse. Reveal yourself to me. Let's not do this at all unless we do it all the way. It will hurt and my vain flesh will fight, but let us do this all the way. Humble my spirit so I may create what is real and sincere.
I don't know what the universe will bring me. My will makes no difference in anything besides my creation of art and the nurturing of my children.

I am a single mother, I am 32 years old. My will matters nothing to anyone or anything. If I succumb to lonely emptiness and do not answer the call of my muse, it will not make a difference to anyone besides me and maybe my children. I don't have time to play games with my heart. If we are going to do this, then let's do it all the way or not at all.

Casting my line into the galaxy among the nebulae and comets.

Leftovers.
Old emotional leftovers that need to be composted. I have done injury to a dear, kindred spirit because my heart has been putrified by arrogance, vanity and judgmental senses. I have allowed my heart to hide behind faulty defenses and it has not been healing. Saturn cracks his whip across my back.
Saturn, crack your whip against my vain flesh until I am bent and humble, unassuming. Scourge my heart into gentleness. Tame me to be receptive and honest. Let me live up to my name. Let me be myself. I lay my vain flesh down and let the coyotes drag my body to the forest. they tear me into ribbons, the worms and flies free my molecules and the rain washes me into the earth. I am taken up in the roots of trees, into the leaves, devoured by caterpillars, fed to robin chicks, preyed upon by red-tailed hawks. Be humble. Be Kind. Be curious. I release my vanity. The vanity of my sex. The vanity of women that causes them to do strange things to themselves. The vanity that causes me to judge other souls who I have no way of ever truly empathizing with. The vanity that leaves me unguarded and vicious like an animal that attacks its own reflection. The nature in me which scoffs at grace and lashes out at vulnerability. The vanity which expects and demands from those around me, not allowing myself to cope with pain but denying the healing that comes through the injury.
I unwittingly subjected myself to the role of victim. I focused on my injury and did not try to understand it. A learning process, this is what pain exists for. Pain, you are my teacher. Dismiss my vanity until I have become your attentive, unwavering pupil. I embrace pain with open arms. When my mind balks at the nearness of pain, let me humble myself unto it. If you come to visit me I know it is a blessing because in your presence is the opportunity to gain wisdom. Let me live honestly by embracing the pain I have caused to myself. I have become master in my life if I own all pain that I feel. If I attribute my pain to others I am assigning them power which they truly do not have. In my mind I make myself a slave. The pain is my friend, like a zealous teacher who wants to prepare me for important tasks. These tasks I must prepare for. If I do not allow pain to train me, I will not recognize these opportunities and will not thrive or grow. The stagnation that ensues after missing the opportunities will stifle my soul further. In pain is wisdom and preparation. I cannot make things right, I can only respect pain and move forward with the lesson. My pain spread to others cannot be undone, but can be forgiven if I allow the lesson to be completed. I choose to be conscious to my pain, in my pain, awake and receptive to the lesson so my personal culture may develop. Denying the pain is denying the progression of the self. Let me not grow over confident that my understanding of pain dims. Let me not be foolish enough to think because I know pain brings wisdom that it is somehow more tolerable. My heart is not out of the thicket yet. The place of pain is still at the driver's seat. There are more changes that I will endure, growing pains and stretch marks. One day I will be able to say, My heart is a desert waiting for the rains, waiting to burst forth with colors and joy and life. Someday I will be unafraid, will give myself wholly over to love.
Focusing on injury creates a false sense of entitlement. I began to think I was owed something, began to blame others for negativity I had allowed in my life. I felt like I deserved to be treated better, became vain, focused on only myself, unable to empathize, an issuance of bitterness, a broken vessel that leaked and created a staining mass. Where did my love for my friends go? -to my jealously and resentment. Where did my patience with my children go? -to my selfishness and pride. Where did my gentle nature go? -to self-abuse and abuse of others in the guise of defensiveness. My friends, my children, my family, please forgive me. Let me learn to serve you and grow back into my heart, let my love grow back into my being.
Think a positive thought about everything. At least one positive thought. This will do no damage to you or anyone but will begin to train my mind to patterned thinking which increases love and understanding while reducing the arrogance, vanity and judgment I wish to purge, or at least control. I do not want to do damage. It helps no one.

consciousness as an element

I have grappled with some thoughts on consciousness and what it is. Thinking of consciousness as a measurable element which we simply lack the tools to empirically measure, consciousness, like other elements, arguably came from a source, perhaps a single source. To be fair, there are possibly different types of consciousness. The consciousness of inert matter vs. living matter could be different, for example. If consciousness is another form of energy, as of yet incalculable, this could indicate a single consciousness. The singular consciousness has been shattered and blasted all over the universe/multiverse. Now the consciousness is schizophrenic, creatures as ourselves containing or carrying shards of consciousness that does not recognize itself in others. Sometimes, maybe it does and is repelled or attracted in an emotional reaction. What causes me to stumble is the sheer loneliness that this implies. One consciousness, nothing to relate to, shatters itself in an attempt to create the perceptions of relational experiences. I remember reading Christian literature which probed the question, "Why did God create the world?" The answer was because God is Love and Love wants to love and be loved. In vedic stories, the gods participate with humanity by means of avatars, the gods all being the many faces of one god. These ideas are strikingly similar at the root, being both about a desire for experiencing reciprocations of relational perception. Truly, reality is fiction because it is perceived differently by each shard of consciousness. Will the schizophrenic consciousness one day make itself whole once more? The success of social networks online could be evidence of an innate desire in each one to re-combine into a collective mind. The consciousness unified may very well be akin to inert matter. Matter is constantly working toward an inert state, the universe towards entropy. One consciousness, without perception of a relationship to another consciousness, would arguably be unconscious of itself, as in Nirvana. When an infant is born, psychology tells us that it does not perceive itself as separate from the mother. Perhaps the infant does not discriminate between itself and its environment or any other object or creature, reflecting pre-Great Separation of Taoist philosophy. The infant begins with no ego, the perception and boundaries of the self is something learned as infants develop. If an infant could be considered pure of consciousness, free from social imprinting, perhaps the state of singular, pure consciousness is also such.