Monday, December 3, 2007

Malaise and Mysticism I haven't updated for a while. I've been struggling with my various obligations and obsessions. Not the inappropriate crush. Mostly work, which tires me out. Not so much physically, but spiritually. I'm forced to pimp my creativity to commercial clients all day long. Well, maybe not forced, but I do have rent and bills to pay, and on my own I wasn't cutting it. Being drained for a paycheck creates more drang and in my spare time, I am listless. Creatively constipated. Instead I worry over end-of-the-world web forums and try to find the energy to do my backed up laundry and dishes. For a while I was in a lot of physical pain too. I got some acupuncture and that seems to have taken the pain down a bit and made it possible for me to go up and down stairs easier. I'm too young to be as paralyzed as I was getting. I did just turn 50 and that came with what seemed to me to be a sudden change in looks, but I can't be sure. It feels like I suddenly developed a turkey wattle neck. Or maybe it's just that I never looked at my profile in the mirror before, like I did when the hair stylist showed me the back of my new very short haircut, which caused me to suck in my breath very quickly in shock. First, she'd styled it really super weird, and it looked like Munchkin hair. It was all blown outward from the center of the back of the head perfectly, and looked pretty comical. I managed to say in a normal tone of voice, "I don't think I'd probably style it like that," and messed it up a little bit so it didn't look so -- so indescribably weird? Eww. Was that really my NECK?! Second thing was, I saw my neck. I have bad genes. Body-wise and somewhat looks-wise. I am the genetic duplicate of my father's mother, and even though we are not defective morally or intellectually, we are cursed with chubby little bodies, knock knees, fingers and toes like sausages, chipmunk cheeks and droopy turkey necks. Fortunately, we were both blessed with beautiful blue eyes. Most of the office people showed up at cocktails for me on my 50th, and seemed happy to fete me. The boss came and laid down his credit card at the end and was a big hero. He's always very cool. I guess I'm liked. But there are a couple of people who have messed with me (or who I've messed with) that are always a little skittish about social relations outside of work. One of those did come and I drunkenly assured him that I was sorry about the run-ins. I think he's OK about it. He thinks I'm crazy. Not much I can do at this point to change his mind. So I kind of reinforced that, I guess. Of course. I'm always inadvertently reinforcing whatever negative stereotypes I don't want other people to have about me. My inappropriate crush is over. He not only got a new girlfriend immediately, he decided to marry her. It's been rather a whirlwind, but that somehow made the crush go poof. Now he'll be a married man and I can sit back and enjoy the show (insert mean laughter here). I went to see my ex in jail. I didn't think I would but I decided it was too mean not to. So he was very happy to see me. He didn't know I was going to visit, they don't even tell them who's coming to see them! I'd sent him some pics of the dog, who he is crazy about and I know they miss each other. He is getting out much earlier than I'd expected. So he'll be back in everyone's hair early next spring. Needing rides because he can't drive (in for DUI) and driving everyone crazy needing work and not doing it right and arguing with everyone as usual. Ah, then things will be back to normal. And he will come and take care of the dog for me and clean my kitchen floor. I'm still futzing around with my place, finishing up the picture-hanging after the redecoration and adding final touches. I just got a new used TV for the bedroom, which was a stupid thing to do, because now I'll watch more TV. I've been resorting to TV torpor due to the listlessness. But there's nothing but dreck to watch. So I watch dreck woodenly. I can't seem to get interested in reading much, but I did delve into Black Elk Speaks recently after having a vivid dream about an indian. It was just a short flash, but I saw a man with a black silk top hat and two black braids hanging down on his chest, and his face was a skull. I think it was a cougar skull. He said to me: "You must learn the medicine way." Then I woke up. That sounds a little corny but it was actually kind of scary. He was a scary and imposing figure. After that, I tried to find out exactly what "the medicine way" is, what it means. I realized after a little research that this isn't really public knowledge. It's for insiders only. You have to have connections, be an apprentice or something. It's for medicine men, or shamans, I guess. I looked up "shamans" and found a lot of information about so-called "plastic shamans", or people who exploit Native American knowledge for money. This material indicated that if one had to pay a shaman to learn stuff like this, then it wasn't genuine learning and one was being exploited. So the message was, never to pay for it, I think. And it's strange but I had been thinking lately that people should never have to pay for spiritual knowledge. I think a true spiritual teacher will give it freely if he or she feels the recipient is ready and deserving. I was once the recipient of such teaching from such a person and I recognized that. I did things for that person to try and reciprocate, but never paid money. It was understood. Anyway someone suggested that figure in the top hat might be Black Elk. He did go to Europe once, maybe it was him. And then I remembered that I'd gotten a copy of Black Elk Speaks last summer but had put it aside after reading about the Wounded Knee massacre because it made me so sad. I went and found it again and read much of the rest of the book, which is all fascinating. All about his vision. And on the web I found a really interesting analysis of all the symbolism, which has to do with the future of his people and the earth. And all about what life was like back then. He was just a little boy when the indian wars started and only got to live a short time in with his tribe as they had always lived before the evil White Man came and fubared everything... Imagine how the indians must have felt, knowing they were being wiped out. What a horrible, massive tragedy it was -- all that indigenous culture destroyed so we could build Wal-Marts and put up trailer parks for them to live in... I took out a book I have that has a map of North America and Mexico with all the tribe names and locations. The continent was filled with them, coast to coast, and up and down. All gone. They were so right about living in harmony with the earth; and we are so wrong, with our corrupt, toxic way of life that's eating us alive. I feel the sins of our forefathers on my soul as though I committed them myself. But strangely, against myself too, because I feel very sympathetic with the indigenous people. I googled "indian in top hat" for images to see if I could find one like the one in my dream. I only found one image of an indian in a top hat, it was a Nez Perce warrior on a horse named Looking Glass. I had a book at home about the Nez Perce and got that out and there was the same picture and some information about him, but it didn't seem to ring any bells. There was an indian in a top hat in my house, though! Then at work I was startled when I noticed in the bathroom a picture of an indian in a top hat. There's a press sheet (uncut sheet) of Edward S. Curtis postcards in there, and one of them looks just like the one in my dream. So I must have seen this before, but you know how memory is. You can see something like this out of the corner of your eye every single day for months and months but your mind never acknowledges it. It takes it in, but not consciously. Then one day that thing makes its way into your dreams. But in the photo, the figure has a man's face, no cougar skull. I'm not sure what that symbology means. Nor the top hat, but I'm guessing it's literal, the "top man", perhaps, maybe this means a medicine man. Anyway, I've put it all aside again, when perhaps I should be pursuing it. I just don't know who to talk to about it. I can't imagine any genuine medicine man wanting to talk to some middle-aged gringa with a turkey wattle neck who had some crazy dream. 10:35:02 PM    comment []

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