Deep Thoughts on a Dark Mountain
Ok,
A disclaimer: I can get into quite a zone when I get into deep thought. I did just that one night last month when I scribbled down some thoughts in my Journal while sitting alone in the Derrick Knob shelter on the Appalachian Trail.
I thought back to the previous year. Looking out at the shadows and the fading light made bold ideas and new associations appear. Soon, the shadows were themselves consumed and incorporated into the darkness. The wind picked up as I sat there under a halo of the Petzl LED headlamp The Muses were with me.
This is the result of a mad outpouring of thought...organized only slightly. Each word, each phase had meaning at the time---and still does now. This is part of the catharsis.
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About a year earlier I sat in a Memphis hotel room paging through the BSA "Perversion Files" on my iPad. It was a dreary exercise to say the least. Instead of going out to dinner that night with my fellow conference attendees, I sat there feeling more and more miserable.
A torrent of memories was unleashed that night. As the Mississippi River flowed by twenty stories below, I was inundated with thoughts of a boy I knew a long time ago. The rest of the conference carried on with the man in a state of disbelief and detachment.
Perhaps I was Faust ? Had Mephistopheles found me in Memphis?
The man trudged through the conference, certain he now carried a mark on his forehead proclaiming the trespasses inflicted on the 13 year-old boy he once knew. The boy who was never quite the same, though he was a master of subterfuge. His goal? To forget. "If I close my eyes and can't see you, then you can't see me." "Nothing is wrong with me!!"
That trick never works.
Brick by brick I walled off Cerberus The beast's guttural voice(s) became muffled and fell silent, still...
latent.
What kind of three headed beast is this? I suspect it truly is Hadean, demanding a tribute of my flesh for entrance, but never intending to allow my exit. The hellhound still guards me from the prison I built for it.
I visited Eleusis to ask for the knowledge to exit this dark place. MS has indeed been helpful to see that I am not alone. My T sessions and my writing are bearing fruit even as autumn advances. For this, I am grateful. I am grateful for my family, and everybody on MS fighting beasts of their own.
Following Persephone's lead, I am Heracles come to wrest the life from Cerberus. The beast guarding the door weakens as I grow stronger.
I'm weary of its presence. It is wary of mine.
Will
A disclaimer: I can get into quite a zone when I get into deep thought. I did just that one night last month when I scribbled down some thoughts in my Journal while sitting alone in the Derrick Knob shelter on the Appalachian Trail.
I thought back to the previous year. Looking out at the shadows and the fading light made bold ideas and new associations appear. Soon, the shadows were themselves consumed and incorporated into the darkness. The wind picked up as I sat there under a halo of the Petzl LED headlamp The Muses were with me.
This is the result of a mad outpouring of thought...organized only slightly. Each word, each phase had meaning at the time---and still does now. This is part of the catharsis.
---------------------
About a year earlier I sat in a Memphis hotel room paging through the BSA "Perversion Files" on my iPad. It was a dreary exercise to say the least. Instead of going out to dinner that night with my fellow conference attendees, I sat there feeling more and more miserable.
A torrent of memories was unleashed that night. As the Mississippi River flowed by twenty stories below, I was inundated with thoughts of a boy I knew a long time ago. The rest of the conference carried on with the man in a state of disbelief and detachment.
Perhaps I was Faust ? Had Mephistopheles found me in Memphis?
The man trudged through the conference, certain he now carried a mark on his forehead proclaiming the trespasses inflicted on the 13 year-old boy he once knew. The boy who was never quite the same, though he was a master of subterfuge. His goal? To forget. "If I close my eyes and can't see you, then you can't see me." "Nothing is wrong with me!!"
That trick never works.
Brick by brick I walled off Cerberus The beast's guttural voice(s) became muffled and fell silent, still...
latent.
What kind of three headed beast is this? I suspect it truly is Hadean, demanding a tribute of my flesh for entrance, but never intending to allow my exit. The hellhound still guards me from the prison I built for it.
I visited Eleusis to ask for the knowledge to exit this dark place. MS has indeed been helpful to see that I am not alone. My T sessions and my writing are bearing fruit even as autumn advances. For this, I am grateful. I am grateful for my family, and everybody on MS fighting beasts of their own.
Following Persephone's lead, I am Heracles come to wrest the life from Cerberus. The beast guarding the door weakens as I grow stronger.
I'm weary of its presence. It is wary of mine.
Will