Tuesday, January 19, 2016

A Thousand Years From Now

Here's a self-help exercise I thought of earlier tonight. Which has helped me put a few things into perspective, so now I'm not nearly as bummed out.

I was really feeling lethargic and even depressed. Everyone has "real lives," and in very short order they can become clogged up with various demands on you, this or that person holding something against you, criticizing you, and basically getting you in a corner. So every damned day seems like it's just dragging along. I'm still a bit depressed, but definitely not as much. Not as long as I'm daydreaming and singing about a thousand years from now!

This little song I started singing dirge-like to a very slow version of the tune of "You're In The Army Now." Thinking ... once again, of those glorious far-off days of a thousand years from now, when everything about me, everyone else, and every problem I either have or think I have will be so definitely forgotten ... it's basically ridiculous to even think about it now.
"A thousand years from now,
A thousand years from now,
Nobody then will even care...
A thousand years from now."
That's the basic gist of the thing, but I'm tossing in some riffing on the words, like "No one will even know my name," "No one will care and that is true," and "No one will give the faintest shit, a thousand years from now."

In addition to singing the song I'm thinking how true it is. A thousand years ago was 1016, OK? And I assume some guy like me, probably pounding out shoes for the horses of a village, was having some problems with others. Couldn't get the metal ... or his reputation had taken a hit; a horse crapped on him during a fitting and he shot it in the ass. Something harmless like that. Well, a thousand years has now passed, and we have no idea about that guy, who he was, who his friends were, what the horse's name was, whether the horse ever walked again, anything! A thousand years has passed and it's all completely forgotten.

Because a thousand years leaves zero witnesses. They've all moved on. A thousand years from now even Lee Harvey Oswald won't raise any immediate thoughts. But they'll speak his name and a computer will regurgitate something. But it's not going to be mentioning me ... with the relatively little reputation and problems I have. Even though they feel big to me right now. And even though I'm down in the mouth, going through the motions, all lethargic, yawning, etc. A thousand years from now heals everything.

"You did what???" "I don't know. Is it even gonna matter ... a thousand years from now?"

It actually won't matter -- none of it -- 30 years from now. I'm sure it won't. I'm 63, and as we all know I'm going to die when I'm 85. That's only 22 years away! Meaning, in 30 years I'll already have been dead eight whole years. And I find it hard to believe anyone's going to still be complaining about me then. The average guy dies now and you're immediately forgotten after they've scattered the ashes.

You got a problem? Put it in a larger perspective. What difference will it make a thousand years from now? It won't make any difference at all.

Friday, January 1, 2016

New Year: Circle The Wagons

Friends, I've taken a big step for myself. After all these years of being at everyone's mercy, being tugged and pulled, rather relentlessly, and being all things to all people, I've resolved at long last to "Circle the Wagons." From this point forward, everything changes. I'm going to make soul progress, find my perfect place.

This is a rather personal, spiritual statement, I realize. But having spilled my guts so often on the blog as to my dissatisfaction and dissolution, I feel it helpful also to note my progress, the things that will make for satisfaction and perhaps even healing. Maybe it will be of benefit to others also deciding to Circle the Wagons. I feel I owe everyone that chance.

The Wagons is my term for That Realm above. According to sources, you can profitably visualize it directly at the top of your head proper, or, as I've chosen, between two and four inches above the head. The connector, as it were, is said not to be merely imaginary, but an actual (unseen with the eyes) channel of the subtle currents of the body. Being seen in artwork as a circle made up of petals, and everything in wonderful order, containing currents/energy, those are my "Wagons," not just unconsciously but consciously Circled. Protecting and providing.

Sounds weird, I know. But, seriously, you wouldn't expect me to carry on the way I've been, not if I can make things better, whether it's weird or not. I look at it this way: Either you've got the tail wagon the dog or the dog wagon the tail. It's not just a case of six-of-one half-dozen-of-the-other; it makes a difference to the dog who's wagon who. If the tail's wagon the dog, the dog could end up permanently propped against a tree, the elimination instinct never satisfied. Whereas if the dog's wagon the tail, he'll pee and get on with his day. My dad used to say, "Piss or get off the pot," and that's good enough for me.

There is, however, a time for everything. Who knows the adjustments we go through? When it's mid-year, I might be mired down with the tail wagon the dog. But New Year is a time for a new start, and hopefully with a determined follow-through it will be so. And so, let it be stated: From hence forth, from this day, this dog's wagon the tail, the Wagons being decidedly Circled! I believe it shall be done.

I started it this morning, visualizing a thousand (alternately 10,000) Wagons in a perfect circular arrangement, a lot like in old westerns, holding off the slings and arrows -- mostly arrows -- of the enemy. "I am impervious behind my Circle of Wagons! No man -- regular guy or savage -- can pierce this line, this Circle!" (If you remember one of my earlier resolutions -- I believe it was 2009 -- I had much the same scenario, except it was based on the Gingerbread Man ("Can't touch me, I'm the Gingerbread Man!"), but this time I hope to keep it. And, frankly, I like a Circle of Wagons more than 10,000 Gingerbread Men; that daily suggestion led to substantial weight gain.)

There are wonderful truths at work here, much like Horatio or someone said in Shakespeare, "Something something something dreamed of in heaven and earth." Right there's the validation, all the validation I need, to press on, Circling the Wagons, and having all the defense/offense I need ... for January 1, January 2, January 3, and beyond.