Ruminations

Sometimes all of life makes sense to one, disparate parts join together, things fall into place, one feels not alone in the vastness of the Universe.  Maybe it is just a good day.  What more could one want than just a good day anyway?  

I don't know what made the day feel good.  Maybe it was the movie I just watched or feeling the joy that comes through knowing that it all doesn't matter and never needed to.  I don't know.  I never really have known... when I look at it in retrospect.  

I have lived a good life.  There have been many weird and bizarre experiences, just enough to keep it exciting.  There has been so much good in my life too, just enough to make it all worthwhile.  I have loved with the depth of a thousand loves.  Sometimes I feel older than the
stars and more ancient than the Universe that seems to hold me.  Sometimes I feel brand new, remade, a newly minted coin.  Tonight, I am feeling both.  I think everyone has these experiences when they fall enough out of themselves to hear it, feel it.  

The Hindus have a concept or place called the Akashic Record.  It means "sky" or "space" or "ether", and it is supposedly a compendium of all of existence.  The journeys of the stars, of the cosmos, of mankind, of all life is recorded in it, like a giant library of all knowledge of all the journeys of consciousness through its travels.  I have no idea whether or not it exists, but the idea gives me comfort.  Somewhere out there is my record, the course of my life written in some backwater section of the great library.  Maybe it would appear under Toad Hall, from the Wind in the Willows.  I have always related well to Toad; he was so odd.  

It is comforting for me to think about having a storage house for all my times and adventures with Dian, my no-longer-with-us-physically wife; our silliness, our conversations, our explorations, our funny fights, and our love all being recorded.  It makes sense to me in a way that something like the Akashic record would exist.  I remember, during the hellish part of grief, seeing my actions as though from an outside observer's view.  I saw all of my hidden agendas and the impact of my words on Dian during one of our fights.  Where did that outside observation come from without a record of sorts replaying it back to me?  I couldn't have been standing on the outside of the whole thing.  I only see things from my perspective, right?  Apparently, as in many of the ideas that I have carried throughout my life, that is a mistaken view.  

Something in me has broken over the last few weeks.  I don't know what it is necessarily, but it feels like some sort of deep abscess that maybe broke free or something.  It was all the necessity I felt for judging my life, my actions, the actions of others, and everything else in between.  When I unjudge it, I see my life as a story, told by consciousness to consciousness itself.  I feel almost like it has been someone else's life that I just happened into by accident... got waylaid maybe... Shanghaied by the Universe and put on a boat called "Matt's Life".  Yet, it all seems to make sense in a weird way.  One thing, one segment of life leading to another in a very orderly fashion.  It would make a kind of odd screenplay, but I don't think that anyone's life really lays out in neat patterns like we would hope.  That part doesn't matter to me, though.  My life makes sense from the inside out right now.  I can see the arrows pointing me down each road.  I can see the steady course of thought pervading it all, how one frame of mind led to one situation or how a thought, a defining thought, made a huge change possible for me.

I think we all lead many lives within our singular life, our seemingly singular incarnation here.  Such defining segments of life are almost like mini-plots within the greater scheme of things.  My life had three such major parts so far, three acts in this current staging of the "Life of Matt."  Always there are subplots even within the acts in our plays.  These plays are very complicated.  I guess I am in a ruminating frame of mind, because I feel another act coming to an end.  I can almost palpably feel the third act coming to a close.  The curtain is about to go down, and the actors will scurry off-stage into their dressing rooms.  They have to have new outfits for the fourth act.

I felt last week a certain gaining of momentum again in this journey that I have been on.  There were some major highs and an opening sky.  I felt a certain round of applause for having deftly played the last part of act three, entitled Loving, Grieving, and Loving Again.  That was a hard part to play.  The initial bliss of finding a kindred soul within the world to join with.  Our building of a life.  The feigned separation and parting from Dian, so beautifully staged and executed.  The high drama of our final days together tugging at the heart strings of the Universal audience.  The beautiful rebirth of our love, cleansed of all the heartache and pain that seems to accompany our dress-up as "people", within me as she became part of me.  The tentative bursting of love renewing itself, almost in a kind of tender adolescent way, in me with the relationship I had after Dian.  There was the seeing the last relationship for what it was and the great gratitude that I have for the opportunity to love again, even though it wasn't destined to continue.  

Now, it seems that this too has come to a close, and the protagonist (me) is prepared for some new thing.  Rejuvenated by his rather resilient heart and bolstered by the very power of the Universe itself, he boldly steps into some new thing.  It is all rather silly... but what else are you going to do for eternity?  It is odd how it is both a cosmic comedy and yet leaves such a wistfulness, such a deep reminiscence and nostalgia.  Like any great play, the Universe must make it a compelling story, I suppose.  Why do something unless you are going to do well at it? 

This may seem very odd to someone reading this blog, but I told you before that they have me filed under "Toad Hall" in the Akashic library.  There is a third thing... a third point of view, I guess... that I am hinting at right now.  It has to be really experienced to be known, but I think that we all get times when we feel this.  I used to feel it many times during what I now see as critical decision points in my life.  It didn't take grief to pull it out of me... although that probably just unhinged me further.  But there are times when one can feel the certainty of a shift if one is still enough... silent enough to hear it.  It just takes a little listening.

The last couple of weeks have been ones of listening within me to this new and burgeoning act in my play... my story.  I felt almost a certain coalescing of force for the first three days of last week.  It came to a certain climax, and some decision was made on Wednesday.  I don't know what it was, but I felt like a couple of souls got together and made some agreements.  I am sure that I will soon find out what those agreements actually were.  There was a certain cutting away that happened the weekend before, and the weekend before that was filled with such a depth of silence that I felt like I wasn't even really here.  The synchronicity has increased as well.  Here is a funny one.  I have felt like I wanted a new look or a new set of clothing for a while now.  Today, I went out and bought some jeans to begin building this new "look".  Tonight, I had Chinese food, and when I broke into my fortune cookie, it said, "Now is the time to be adventuresome. Try a new look." Maybe the Universe had to give me some little cues to ensure that I made it out to the stage before the curtain went up... and of course, this is all happening as everyone in the Daylight Time arena is "springing forward."  The rich irony of it all.