The girl across the sea

3

May 4 by The Running Son

tumblr_mcpz4pdelK1qzdguko1_500

In the middle of the night, during the witching hour, there is a blogger on the other side of the planet throwing up her nightly poem or poems, and artwork. She is very young. Her poetry is direct and genuine, sorting out her problems with a wisdom and projected equilibrium rare in someone so new to life and it’s thunder-clap curriculum.

Just like an Enneagram type four with a so/sx instinctual drive, me. This system suggests my chief passion is Envy. I do wish I had it together at a young age, like my friend from the other side of the world. This feeling itself is mildly envious. I’ve see worse in me. At it’s most green, and filtered through Freuds breastfeeding theories, envy wants to pollute the breast, to ruin the object it cannot be. On a higher octave, envy wants to transfer the good object to itself. And one spiral higher, it mimics the object, then rejects the false image in search of the true. A step up, and envy tastes the desired quality, identity, the mother, the source, god, and holds on to it, a stake of claim. Then the envious realizes that to hold on to beauty or identity is fruitless. Worse, useless, and the envious slowly lets go, looks back in to the void that is left, and cries out.

If the man stripped of his envious security remains, he finds activity. An immense river. It is loud and universally powerful and overwhelming. But it is, and the acceptance of it’s inevitable reality brings on a curiosity. This stream of consciousness contains all the energy of soul and god and mind. possibilities and movement and the great Sound, always the sound and the energy that stretches on in every direction for ever, with no border, or end, or empty place where it is not.

Whatever is in that river, or on the other side of the journey toward identifying the self, I do not know yet.

My friend from across the ocean, she continues on, opening new wings, expanding and stretching her capacities each night, my day, our polar difference fusing at the point of the creative force. Envy doesn’t know what to do with this anymore, and it steps aside. Some new, wiser and much larger law, authority, of the mind and heart steps in. Compassion and hope like a sigh that stretches deep into the star-field, way back into the dim first combinations and movements toward order, reflecting back at speeds not measured by light or guided by darker laws. When I make connection with this encompassing sound and understanding, I am startled. The “I” I knew and grasped for mattered little. Where it went and why, no more, don’t matter. The new I, but with no I to point to, is enough.

Across the ocean, She writes. Here, I rejoice. The river is pleasing, and life buzzes all around like nothing I have ever known and everything I ever needed.

And to hold on to such a cosmic experience, or peak moment, or illumination, or psychotic shifting, or good common sense–call it what YOU will but to hold on begins the process again, the spiral, but down.

There is no holding. The center has it’s own life and it wants to share freely.

3 thoughts on “The girl across the sea

  1. Ar Vhee says:

    Wow, you’re way more talented Jim. I call this fuel, a matter of energy, an inspiration. 🙂

    • Your calling it words I understand! See? great english from a clear mind. I’m trying to make sense of all these posts now… just published the 1st of several explorations into the “manic” thingy-whatever. Might take 3 weeks… 😉 AV really your name? so cool.

  2. […] •Poem: eye-poem •crash •controlled-crash •poetry is for the soul food is for the body •the girl across the sea •crash-happens •poem: pohm •of blocks and raw material •recap of a bi-manic crashing […]

♫ Talk to Jim...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

RFB editor Jim Aldrich, Joshua Tree CA 2013

RunningSon aka Jim Aldrich, Joshua Tree CA 2013 | This site is dedicated with the deepest gratitude to Dr. Cláudio Naranjo, whose writings gave me life.

  • 342,736 souls hit the RFB

Click to Follow the RFB!

Join 1,032 other followers

Recent Posts…

Some RFB Followers…

Flag Counter
DoubleU = W

WITHIN ARE PIECES OF ME

UP!::urban po'E.Tree(s)

by po'E.T. and the colors of pi

The shadows of a dream

Words walking the tightrope from functionality to versification.

presentlymine

spice up your life vanilla style

galaktikapoetikeatunis

A topnotch WordPress.com site

forgottenmeadows

thoughts from my mind to yours

A Mirror Obscura,

Poetry, musings and sightings from where the country changes

annamosca

Poetic Landscapes Of The Spirit

Bilder

Ein schöner Tag - wenn er zu Ende geht, ist nichts mehr, wie es war...

realtalented

Im here to expose true talent

phillymanjim's Blog

Poetry, Musings, Photographs

Blog It Or Lose It

Paloma's Pen

The Year(s) of Living Non-Judgmentally

Here and now, with all of it.

James Radcliffe

Meditations on Art and Life

Tania Marie

Creating Life As A Work Of Art With A Magick Rabbit By My Side

Sean B

Nomadic & transient tales

belsbror

Simple Living

Eva Acharya

Screenwriter/Author

Smuggling Bay

About expression

leather green gargoyle

what I hear, what I read, what I write

Gray Poet

Just a place to express my poems.

HA's Place

of organic poems, multifarious prose, rambunctious ramblings, and queer dreams

sharkouni

The greatest WordPress.com site in all the land!

Notes on a Spanish Valley

Award-winning blog - Living in rural Andalucia

Wendy L. Macdonald

My faith is not shallow because I've been rescued from the deep.

idealisticrebel

Women's Issues, Peace, Creativity & Spirituality

intotheindigo

My muse's quiet amusement

Poemotherapi Shoppe

"Oh How Art Thou Love Of Poetry"

hammerwerk

light_and_shadow

I didn't have my glasses on....

A trip through life with fingers crossed and eternal optimism.

∙ tenderheartmusings ∙

we were born naked onto the page of existence; with nothing but the pen of our soul to write ourselves into eternal ecstasy ~ DreamingBear Baraka Kanaan

Traces of the Soul

Whispering insights of this, that, then and there

"we'll never be royals."

Small artists with big potential and lots of cliché.

ldr13

A Long Distance Relationship Blog. Join the FB Page: https://www.facebook.com/theLDRdiaries13

David Emeron: Sonnets

If I swore not to describe my heart, would it stop beating forever?

PICZLoad pics a la carte

Watchout Loud and Have PICBliss!

Simple Pleasures

Visual Poetry, Photography and Quotes

Of Distant Places

How it feels like feeling home to a person who lives 8,000 miles away

Manang Bok's House

Atrocities are sometimes nothing less than the vengeance of the tormented. (Louis de Bernieres)

going the distance for love blog

Life in a long distance relationship

Blase'

My heart, mind and soul...transcribed!

Don Charisma

because anything is possible with Charisma

%d bloggers like this: