Its 442 in the AAM. I wake when I awaken, and so here I sit, in bed. Actually, this is a relatively new experience. I used to get upset when I would wake before my alarm, which is set for 5am. But I think my body lets me know what it needs, generally. I already eat when my body tells me it's hungry, eschewing the three-meals-a-day practice that seems to be a sister to the "Hallmark holidays"; an institution that was created for reasons about which if we were informed would make us choose otherwise. I've been doing it for years, preferring to graze most of the day then eat a smallish dinner with pie, but that's another story and battle. So why wouldn't it work with sleep? If, in the middle of the day, I crash, rather than drink a Rockstar (which I do love), I curl up in my Jeep (and I mean curl up) or lay down in my luxurious F250 with the sweet bench seat and nap for as long as I need, which is hardly ever more than 20 minutes. I awake refreshed and ready to continue my day. It's like, duh.
So here I sit, slightly earlier than would generally be my preference, but there is more.
The mornings are times of clarity for me. Special dreams happen during this time of day before my breain gets all cluttered with the stuff of an American life. I once had a vision, and I mean a vision, of a man that appeared before me with a chanupa - a peace pipe - that changed my life, literally. Yesterday, I spend a significant amount of time pondering what I wanted in my life, since I kind of seem to get what I want, sprinkled liberally with what I need if my wants are at odds with those needs, as they have been. To wit: I live in a lovely, furnished attic where the only entry is the broken garage door and there is no kitchen. This would not have been, and is not still, my preference in many ways. But I am beginning to call this little place my temple because I've learned so much here. I needed it. It came to me when I was kind of getting sucked back into the illusion of The American Dream, and freed me again from it's grasp, at least temporarily (T.A.D. is a graspy, greedy little sucker for me, historically).
This morning was no different. I had awoke, and was wondering if my awake-ness was going to reverse itself into a lovely slumber as it sometimes does. But then a picture out of absolutely nowhere I can name appeared in my mind. It was a dream of one frame, and it flashed with a mercury-bulb explosion and faded extra slowly. And what was this mini-dream? I saw myself from behind, kneeling in the dirt. In front of me was an African woman, screaming in pain. She may have been in childbirth. I think she was. Someone I knew and loved, an Anglo woman that was a friend, was assisting her to my right. I was incredibly grateful in my vision to be helping this screaming woman. I loved her. I was with not only her, but with her whole village. This moment was the culmination of something for me, the definition of why I came to the earth, a fulfillment of my purpose, of cosmic promise.
Something about this was amazingly powerful for me and has capped off or at least added to a few substantial events in the last 24 hours. Yesterday morning, after a unique dream that featured a holy man I know that lives in Mexico, I had a powerful planning session where I began to identify with clarity where I was regarding my hopes and dreams of the past in contrast with my current situation. I took stock of my talents and my high standards regarding how I spend my day; my j.o.b. I remembered vividly my old favorite dream of sailing on the open ocean in my own boat with a woman I love, and I had never before seen her face before yesterday (don't ask who it was, I ain't tellin'). I took a bold move yesterday evening, taking the first step towards seriously pissing my boss off because I will not charge $6,700 for a furnace when my potential clients can get the same one for under $4,000, and I told them that. It's how I roll, so sue me (or fire me- which he well may, if he finds out. By the way, I'll still make a good sale based on the other work we do which I DO believe in). This was a big deal for me in some ways, because it mirrors for me the choices I made as a surgical supply salesman. It proves to me that my actions in that arena, leaving for ethical reasons among others, were no fluke, no sudden flash of consciousness or honesty. It's who I am. It was hard to do in some ways because I am barely making ends meet and I need the commission, but I did it, gladly. Then last night I went to hear my youngest daughter's choir. Afterwards, it once again became apparent to me that my ex-wife wants absolutely nothing to do with me. It has seemed to me, and does more all the time, that she would be happier if I dropped off the face of the earth since she once again conspicuously avoided any interaction at all, even eye contact. It's fine, just odd to me. She remarried well, I think, and seems happy enough otherwise. I ask the kids about her so I have their opinion, anyway. Afterwards, on the way home, I took my chanupa (I told you that dream changed my life) as I had planned beforehand to do and went into a local forested park alone. I walked through the moonlit forest without additional light to the top of the big hill that makes up the bulk of it and prayed, drummed and sang Native American prayer songs alone and loudly. It came to me that I did not know how I was to serve, what my deeper purpose here was and I prayed to know. On the way down the hill I realized that what I want the most, in the wake of not knowing the details of what I want in the future and in the face of global uncertainty, is freedom to do as I feel I should in any instant, to wrap up commitments and go, any time and anywhere. I realize now that I wrote those words yesterday during my planning session as well but had forgotten them. And then this morning, that vision.
Here is my question. What would happen if I bagged this all? I mean, gave up the ideal of working towards "having things" and just found a way to wander this earth, loving people who have nothing and simply need love? What if I could use my talents writing (and teaching, and loving people- especially those to whom no voice is given in this world) to bring awareness to the few in my circle of influence about the realities of the truly indigent. How would I feel, alone in the dirt like the screaming woman, if no one came to my assistance? More questions: how could it work with my ex-wife and my twelve-year old daughter...how would such an act affect them? Frankly, what about child support? I don't care about a so-called "retirement". I see it as...well, not for me. I am healthy. Why wouldn't I do this, other than the probable giving up of my beloved sailboat dream?
Any thoughts would be welcome.
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