My clock is broken. You don’t travel across twelve time zones without some need for body adjusting. I am trying to force myself to say up and get up at regular times, but my eyes go shut while I am in a phone conversation at 4pm or my head nods during the night news and then without warming, my eyes pop open at 12:30 am and don’t see the need for closing. This is good and bad for it helps me to think in a cloudy... hazy way which then encourages a combination of thought and imagination. Nothing is crisp – coming from assumptions but more crawling out of shadows.
Having taught helping professionals I have seen many that are extremely smart students... they know the literature and the theory.... but have little skill in feeling the nuances of a person and following the breath to the heart of issues thus leading to a self-resolution on the part of the person asking for help. A helper who does not intentionally puts cobwebs in the helpees way might give them a compass and a shove so they just stumble around and eventual go out the door they came in and are no clearer.
The intellectual therapist often sees where the client “should be”... a happy well-adjusted person. The book person is quick to peg (in the business it is called assess) but finds it hard to accept the personal choice path that can lead to the necessary thrashing at a deeper level. Sometimes you just have to thrash..float...do trial and error... let your imagination and sixth sense take over an lead you to a new Now. ...you earn your direction by coming out of lost.
When I look at life through the lens... I sometimes see a story... not just there is a little girl washing her socks and the story of the socks.... but the story behind the story... the story in the child’s eyes... the story of isolation but not loneliness.. of accepting a life of continued separation and thus freedom to be one’s self. I was struck travelling how many couples were silently eating alone and had gotten over even attempting to have conversation. I would like to think they were giving the partner space...but more.I think they were just bored....
Writing is more than a habit for me...... it is my way of putting my drunken foot out of the bed so the room doesn’t spin as fast out of control... It helps me regroup and reset the compass. For the past day, I have sorting and purging... letting go of what was not working but familiar... I am intent on having the life I want.. and things, places, people.... will be out of my time zone...
So does the picture come from the story or create the story... does the path come from confused thoughts or does the clarity of purpose provide the direction..... .
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