Mid-morning. You are waiting in the shade of the parking garage for Carol at Macys/Target on the corner of Cedar and Warrensville-Center Road three blocks from Kim and Paul’s. Paul sent you a note yesterday showing that the Clinic was just made the number one heart hospital in the nation for the eighteenth straight year according to U.S. News & World Report. You are rightly proud of him, boy. To think, as you do, that pride is better off seen as a negative, this appears a mixture of pride and arrogance on your part when actually the ‘accepted’ fact has nothing to do with you. As you feel it does because daughter married Paul. Her marrying Paul has little to do with you either – her choice and his for her. You are carrying the arrogance not them.
I forgot about it, Amorella. I don’t know why you brought it up to begin with. This is somewhat humiliating to think on.
Isn’t this what you want, to be forever humble? – Amorella
That would be even a worse arrogance. This sort of self-questioning is the ‘hell’ in the book. Some poor soul with a frozen heart and an ever questioning mind unable to make a decision as to or what sheorhe is when dead.
The reason is because you have been there, boy, and the thought of it will never leave you. – Amorella
Paying the Piper, I forgot how this is. So, is this once personal experience (witnessed by an unknown human through letters) in heart or soul or mind?
The combination, boy. There are all kinds of hell; you actively visited one of them with me or a semblance of me at the helm. You answered to me, boy; which is the reason I’m here. I’m the Piper, boy, in your non-fictional mind and accepted as such by heart and soul. Your arrogance to stand your ground directly before G---D or before an Angel of G---D places you in these waters of your own devise. You figure, why not put these once treacherous currents to use. Once you inwardly accepted that standing your ground one on one with an Angel it became a subjective reality and you have treated it accordingly ever since. It was ‘real enough’ in the same way Moses parting the Red Sea was real enough or Jesus surviving the cross became real enough. Life itself is secondary to the ‘reality’ you once felt as real. – Amorella
I cannot believe this, Amorella. Not today. I have read how the mind works. I have a better sense of heartansoul than I did twenty-five years ago. Self-deception, Sartre said to watch for it, and I am. I would however, if the need occurred, still stand my ground before an Angel or G—D HeranHimself if I were allowed to explain who I really am, that is within the depths of heartansoulanmind. I am not afraid to become as clear as glass. Why would I be? Why should I be? I am, like everyone else on this planet, a human being, species: Homo sapiens.
Such a humorous frame. Very good, Amorella, to have this end with a bit of a smile on my part.
My pleasure, boy. Enjoy lunch with Kim today. - Amorella
1309 hours. We are home from a fresh baked pizza lunch at Stone Oven on Lee. Carol and Kim shared a piece of carrot cake. I had a second piece of pizza instead. Tomorrow Kim has a conference on career student assessment at the new Student Union at the Ohio State University. Carol just mentioned an article in the (June) Money magazine suggesting hybrids are some 17 percent more in cost than non-hybrids. At 4 dollars a gallon, if one drives 12,000 miles a year it will take 7 years to recoup the extra cost. Average cost, as of January of a new car is some 30,000 dollars. Beyond that the other night I read that the 2013 Lincoln MKZ will be $41,000 not the $35,000 as it is this year. So, the 2013 Lincoln MKZ is scratched from our list of potential new automobiles. Maybe a hybrid is knocked off the list also. I was looking forward to a hybrid with some bells and whistles. Only two hybrids look viable; the 2013 Accord and the Ford Fusion. Shoot, with regular gas engines, it will still be the Accord or Fusion, that’s how it looks at present. Dad always wanted to die owning a Cadillac but Mom only let him buy a fancy Buick. I was thinking mostly of the safety and comfort of the Lincoln in our older age, but comfort is not a necessity, plus, we would not be comfortable paying such an extravagant price for a car. Even our max, $35,000, is a thousand more than we paid for our first house in 1975. Carol is feeding Brennan. We are going to miss these kids when we leave. Little ones are easy to fall in love with. (1345)
1613 hours. I feel better after a nap. Carol is playing sudoku on her iPad and Brennan is fighting a nap in his rocker. The light classics (Myslivecek’s “Sinfonia in C Major) is playing on cable TV’s ‘Music Choice’. Quiet hopes to stalk the rooms and house shortly.
You glance to the east upper corners of the room in search of Presence out of a gut inclination. Better to check than not. Like the quiet waiting a heaviness lingers in the distorted shape of a wasp’s nest out and below the two corners by an inch or two. No touching the foundation walls; that would be unfair. A glance back to the right and Brennan has closed eyes. Sleep. The buzz of sleep tip-toes from corner to corner as Haydn’s “Symphony No. 93in D Major/Adagio; Allegro Assai” is played by the New York Philharmonic Orchestra, Leonard Bernstein, Conductor.
1628 hours. A return to reality, Amorella. I daydream my life away sometimes. White poppies of unclouded sense roll about in a non-boated reality usually from upper room corners. Who knows why? They are uncurtained without Meaning, not even a foreboding. Wasps or acorns, it makes no difference. Unattached nerves of presence without root or explanation. If the babe can sleep and Carol can collapse to the floor in needed slumber I too can ignore a patch of desert-like weeds drilling in hope for water. No need for Meaning when Being is enough. (1638)
And here you are, conscious and without further note or explanation. A moment made real by adding the words to what would be otherwise insignificant; a consciousness of being quiet and still but for the tapping on the eardrums. A raw sub-posting from a drifting human mind freely unencumbered. Post, boy, and wake up at your leisure. - Amorella
No comments:
Post a Comment