Mid-morning. Up early, hot bath with jets and bubbles. Breakfast and the paper. You realized in the middle of the night that you would have to buy the DVD machinery for the Air because you make disks for Aunt Patsy and Uncle Ernie, which you are behind on by the way.
I am. I should do this on this machine as it is set up for it.
Your MacBook is not broken, orndorff. Keep it for such purposes. It is silly to go out and buy the DVD apparatus when you don’t know if you’ll need it. You save and save but sometimes you are not frugal.
You are sounding like wife on this.
Carol puts up a lot with you, boy. If it were not for her frugality you wouldn’t be in any position at all to buy much of anything as whatever money you had you would have spent on one thing or another. The Dead are a frugal lot, I’ll tell you.
They have the ‘time’ to be frugal. I’m sure I wouldn’t have much savings as I would liked to have had several nice sports and vintage cars earlier in life, and I think she would too, a larger house, no way for either of us, you’d have to pay someone to clean and care for it, same with a large yard. Too much work for me.
Almost noon, and you are at Hallmark at VOA, Carol is getting a card for Bill S., brother-in-law, as he retired 31 January as an assistant principal in Florida’s Hillsborough County. Carol’s sister and her two daughters still teach in the massive Tampa district. You deposited much of your ‘at home savings’ into the real account to pay for the MBA which will arrive sometime next week.
Two pleated blinds need restrung so you are dropping them off before heading home.
We are busy most every day. I suppose we needn’t be but we both like to have an excuse to get out of the house at least once a day, besides, the sun is shining for a change. Snow tonight and again on Monday. Single digits last night, this is definitely a Winter and it is hard on the cars. Too much brine and salt on the roads.
Home. Carol checked the mail while you cut a few more limbs off the downed perpendicular trunk-limb on the crab apple. Stopped at Penn Station for lunch, then to Graeter’s for an ice cream treat and now to Kroger’s for milk, then home. Typical errands, typical week day. These errands and chores are important reminders to yourself that you are leading a normal life, that is, your usual life. Writers, some, have a tendency to be obsessive, and while you are, to a point, you are basically normal and fit into this range both socially and intellectually. A few of your students used to classify you as some sort of genius and you and I both know better. Now, this gives you the satisfaction of showing people you are not.
Regular life. No different than anyone else. I still lack memory for peoples’ names and while my main focus is on heartansoulanmind and thought physics being akin light physics, that is basically it. That and the love of words and literature and history. Those are my interests, but then what would you expect from a retired teacher of English.
Home again, this time it is mid-afternoon. . . . More errands and pick up the car from the shop. Presently at Barnes and Noble while Carol searches out books on northern California. Supper afterwards.
Doug sent you an email, an article on Near Death Experience and the ‘mystic’ sense of being at one with everything. You told him you did not think you felt that experience, and from in here you have not. Your mystical experiences are based on a oneness with me, orndorff. Funny, huh? – Amorella
I believe it because my sense of the mystical is being separate (yet somehow feeling connected with a mystical being). I don’t know when I felt it the most.
When we danced, orndorff, when you thought I was an Angel of G---D or G---D.
The thought at the time (in 1988) was deeply felt and I suddenly surmised I was out of ‘space’ and ‘time’ and ‘did not exist in a body’, yet I had a body nevertheless and I got up from the couch in the finished basement (about eleven at night) and I put my right hand somewhat high in the air (though the bi-level we lived in on Majken Place in Mason had a low ceiling) I danced a little jig for a short period; the music I danced to was “Hava Nagela” or something similar, something Jewish. This was a surprising sense of being nothing and yet still being. I was dancing within an invisible Angel. That is the only thing that came to mind. I have, at times, wondered on this subjective experience (though somewhat objective experience to me also). I ‘caught’ a sense of what it would be to be dead, to exist without a body. That is what the experience was in my heartansoulanmind at those moments. That is the most mystical experience I have ever had and it rolls between some of the lines in the Merlyn books. I know this. It was an authentic experience no matter how it was induced. This was not the same as an hypnotic experience because I was within something else, I was surrounded by an angelic-like being.
I wondered afterwards if it were G---D, then I thought that would be blasphemous to think on, so I dropped the sense of the being down to ‘an Angel of G---D’. Today, I have, in all these years, downgraded it into something I can understand and have some intellectual identity with, you, Amorella. I do not say this with the intent of disrespect as I do not know what you are or if you are ‘real’ in the sense of the physical universe as we understand it presently. One can never know these experiences for sure (that is to what the experience actually was). I never lost my ability to doubt. I was allowed to remain comfortable in that sense. I still had a sense of Free Will because of it, I never lost my humanity, (I never had a sense of a presence of Evil because I was allowed my Free Will), I never became One with the universe or anything similar. I appreciated that at the time and still do. I gained from the experience even if it was self-invented. People can think what they want. I don’t care. This is how I remember it. – rho
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