Echo

today is a really good day. i’m filled with joy. i woke up to feel the sun rise and am watching the sky darken over the temple as i type this. i’m starting to notice and appreciate cycles, and also flow with them. i’m finding that i am alert in a different way since jumbling up my sleep pattern. it’s like i’m chasing the nighttime and what knowledge it holds.

but i’ve been happy. i’ve been really, really happy. and i hope it makes others happy as well.

brian is splayed out on the green couch in my office when he tells me:

‘you’re evil.’

i stop typing.

‘stop mindfucking people,’ he says.

‘what?!’

i’m truly, okay only kinda, shocked.

‘you know you do it. you have to stop it.’

‘well-‘

‘no.’

‘it’s not exactly-‘

‘no.’

i think.

‘deep down, they get off on it too.’

brian sighs. walks out of the room. he says as he leaves,

‘but it’s not right.’

i put my head down on the desk.

sigh.

go do something else.

i only feel i’m being evil when i know the person i am at this moment is not the person they think they’re talking to.

it’s because i feel i’m tricking people, but i kind of get off on it.

but at the end of the day, who are we really? we’ve gotten so good at creating our puppets, people actually believe they’re real people.

i’m okay with it if you’re okay with it.

but if you ever want a straight story, you just have to ask the right questions.

he told me that people like to tell him their secrets. that he keeps a lot of people’s secrets, and he wanted to know mine. and i knew i had to give it to him, because it was inevitable. this is synched with the fact i had randomly chosen the memory keeper’s daughter as the book i would read into this journey, and it’s all about what happens with secrets. in fact, it was the book i had given him, which surprised me because i hate giving away books. all of it, felt inevitable.

there’s a strong polarity here. this is how magnets work. and with this, great power.

we are direct opposites in the spectrum, supported by astrological data, supported by his sudden statement that we are each other’s other half, supported by my strong and persistent request on this blog for the universe to give me a mirror and my increasingly persistent search to find it.

and then, this. you’re suddenly at a new level, where more is unknown, but an entire new universe opens at your feet. and you’re standing there on this ledge between your old universe and this strange new one, and you know, there’s no going back.

and so you pray with everything you’ve got, that this is a world in which it’s possible to fall up.

so which is my universe, and which is not?

they’re making pants tighter now, right? because i don’t know…cuz i’m not…i don’t wear jeans…

and then, he says IT. the line literally brought me to my knees with laughter. i spent the summer of 2003 showing people this scene, because they just needed to know. apparently coke is a hell of a drug.

that was a beautiful summer.

this is probably one of my favorite secrets, something that always makes me laugh, along with drunk guy.

From 3/19:

In one of my dreams last night, I was hanging out on a lazy afternoon with a good friend of mine. I told her, marriages are like pancakes–you screw up the first one, but the next ones are better. You do it, you figure out your mistakes and the second time around, you know who you are, you know what you want, and you know what’s achievable and what’s not and it’s better. While there are plenty of first marriages that do work because they’ve been built on strong foundations, this learning curve is a major reason why so many first marriages fail and second marriages succeed.

I woke up amused. That was totally a conversation I would have in real life.

I think in hindsight, I was driven by that knowledge. As it neared the end, I secretly hoped my relationship with Reggie was a close enough simulation of a first marriage, because in a way, in hindsight, I did view it as a sacrifice in hopes that whatever came next would be the sum of efforts, knowledge and giving up something that was of great value to pave way for something amazing. Maybe it’ll turn out to be an idealistic pipedream. I don’t know. But I have to be open to the possibility instead of knowingly settling.

I’ve also learned that your history, your memories, your life as you live it now, not as you always imagined it would be…these are all yours. You own it so you have the ownership to do what you want with it. Your life is not perfect because there’s no such thing, but it’s yours. And as with everything, you can either choose to accept it or not. It’s much easier to make changes though, if you accept it. Everything that you’ve experienced, everyone you’ve known, every interaction and thought, belongs to you for better or worse. How you decide to cherish it or not, is also a personal decision.

Some days when I’m alone, I think about my life and I wonder if I’m a good person. I know my core motivations are pure. Nothing makes me happier than making another living person smile and feel warmth. I like protecting those who are not as strong as others, and I like reminding people of their hopes and dreams and personal potentials when they seem to have gotten sidetracked. But these are just these psychic hugs I give people that for whatever reason, seems to make them blossom. The sincerity is real, but the person isn’t exactly there. You’ve been touched by a projection. Because the only thing I ask for in exchange, occasionally demanding it when necessary, is for no attachment. I know that comes off badly sometimes. I know some people have gotten hurt. But the thing is, we had a positive experience together, you got something and I got something, but I can’t be in everyone’s life to the same degree as these interactions. I don’t like getting too attached to too many people because at the end of the day, caring deeply is a responsibility I take seriously.

I need the freedom to get out and meet a lot of different people, to understand human hopes and dreams despite disappointment and pain, and how to use my energy to bring about positive change. I care about people and I love everyone in a broad, spiritual way, the way someone admires the view of a sprawling forest without having to own the trees. But there are always individual people who I’ve accepted into my life, and whether they suspect it or not, to be accepted in my life means I’ve woven you into my emotional fibers. It means that I’ve accepted that someday, when death separates us, it will be a deep and sorrowful loss, but I’ve accepted that consequence, borrowed against a future debilitating pain for the pleasure of caring about you and having you close to my heart. I’ll take your well-being as personally as my own, and I’ll always see the beauty in you and want you to attain everything you want out of life, putting out my energy in ways you may not realize to move you towards that.

It’s important to me that I surround myself with people I truly care about, people I would go to war for, but it doesn’t mean I’m not sincere and genuine to everyone else. I just don’t want to be committed emotionally and spiritually to too many people. And the problem is that after one of these random connections, people don’t always want to let me leave and it becomes messy, sometimes ruining the positive exchange. In turn, that makes me not let as many people in. But if everyone promises to behave and not cling to me and pull me into weird little repressed dramas where I don’t belong, I’m going to try to get more involved with people. Just please…separate the message from the messenger.

Let’s make this a positive experience.

From 3/20:

alright.

i’m back.

like i said, i’ve been taking a final. it’s not so much an exam as a practical.

the good news is i found another one of my soulmates and as comforting and difficult as it was, i know that the experience changed me in a way that i know i can never go back to where i was. the flipside is, i have much work to do.

berlin was interesting, not so much as the city itself, as it was the place that allowed me to break open a side of myself that had previously been buried. it’s a wonderfully artistic, creative city and they’ve left remnants of its previous life and the scars it bears as a reminder of where they’ve been, and a place they hope to never return.

like me.

i look at it though, and i am not sure that my scars are things i can leave behind in the past, even though emotionally, intellectually and spiritually, i have dealt with my pain and left it behind. my body will never let go.

the experience that i have never talked about directly in a coherent manner, i relived, as a ghost in the room hanging over me, demanding attention. it brought me to my knees and despite the presence of a stranger, albeit one who felt like he’d known me his entire life, i wept uncontrollably as i grasped the way the shadow of my past has followed me throughout my adult life, even into this new awakening as i’ve harnessed my power.

i need you to know something.

secrets have secret lives. they burrow into you in ways that you can be consciously aware, even if you refuse to admit the extent of the universes they’ve established inside you. no matter how small or insignificant, a secret can sometimes carry itself to the point that all those around you who care about you can feel it, yet with an intimate psychic agreement, they’ve agreed out of respect and feelings for you never to touch it and bring it out into the open.

but you keep a secret in, and it will kill you.

exactly.

she who gives birth to heaven and earth, knows the orphan, knows the widow, seeks justice for the poor, and shelter for the weak

Secretly what I was really doing in Europe was walking around, smiling at people, spreading happiness. It’s like tapping people with a happy wand. They do a double-take and then they smile back in a way that opens up their energy. These are smiles that spread into their chests, radiating out of them, so you get a little something more than what you started with. It’s like suddenly being in on an inside joke. Sometimes I would literally be skipping down the street, I had such a surplus of happy. It got to be infectious and people would stop to have conversations with me.

Then I got back to the US today, and I helped this woman with her heavy suitcases, even grabbing her young child who was about to get hit by a suitcase he was pulling on, lifting him away from danger. She had plenty of opportunities but she never said thank you, walking away without ever acknowledging me.

I think some people take kindness for granted because it’s never saved their life.

I think sometimes, all anyone ever asks for is just someone who believes in them.

It’s a beautiful thing.