I dreamed of a blonde woman. She was trying to communicate with me. After a huge struggle I was able to hear her. I could feel some kind of connection, if only a pleasant anxiety of trying to reach something that is trying to reach you. I could see her smooth skin. I could feel a darkness. A darkness that came from her being taken advantage of, and fearing the next time.
The first thing I remember her saying, although it was not the first thing she said, was, "Why do you draw roses in the desert sand?" It was not the roses she was commenting upon, but the activity of producing them and the joy associated with that activity, considering the product will be blown away shortly after being completed. A fruitless, fleeting gesture that seemed pointless to her.
I considered her point for a moment, realizing how much more I could benefit from the same effort applied to a different endeavor. I tried to think of how to explain the sheer joy of creating ordered beauty in the deep of the desert, where the beauty is inorganic and chaotic.
"Getting the spirit to express itself where it was missing and experiencing that expression completely in a firsthand way is the most thrilling experience imaginable."
"You are hiding behind the spirit." she replied.
I considered her point, but I was not hiding. Like all apocolyptic prophets, I was avoiding the calls of the artificial self which saturate the civilized world. Here in the desert, I am free and happy. I express that happiness in my rose designs. Even if no one ever stumbles across one, or does but doesn't appreciate it, somehow I feel like it still makes a difference.
"I am making a difference." I finally replied. I was not concerned in the least as to what that difference might actually be. Expressions of the spirit are free to determine their own importance after the fact.
Author notes
This is a dream I had this morning. I am not an apocolyptic prophet - I just put that in there because it is true, they do that, too.
In a list
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Personally, I don't think this lives up to the promise of the first part but it's certainly intruiging. Who is this woman? Are you a medium? What does she want? The ending of the peice seems to be ill at ease with the rest but maybe that's just me. The peice certainly raises some questions...
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thanx
you lifted my spirits
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Even within the desert ...
where harsh conditions make it almost impossible to flower, exquisite blooms flower because they are destined to flower. Your work is evocative and lingers in the mind of readers. It leads souls to find answers within the Voice within. Within the Desert of solitude, the true gems shimmer brighter.
Love
Always Myra
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sounds like inner struggles of trying to convince one's self of truths that you might really be pondering on subconsiously. dreams are truths and realities that the mind files while sleeping. you commented on someones poem and relayed to them that their poem was about self indulgence, maybe your mind might be doing the same thing because it thinks it is too focused on being normal and a truth. you speak of self as a spirit, but in reality, spirit is self. it is life in itself. just as the soul is spoken of as a way to seperate from one's self, but in reality, soul is self. your spirit is self indulged in perfections.
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Very astute! I think that the desert represents a place where one is not indulgent, where the real self can outshine the artificial self. You are right, the spirit is the real self... as opposed to the artificial self, which is the ego. Thanks for the comment.
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Well I understand it whole heartedly and if you are managing to help people wonderful. Yet when you are enabling them to not help themselves. Have you truly achieved what the spirit is truly about?
Is the desert not already full of the spirit, just in a design much different from most others?
Nicely done, thought provoking and you will feel like you did in 6 grade again, with the lack of understanding. Such as it was to you with others and Bach.
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I would expect nothing less, as a matter of fact, I doubt I can write anything you don't understand whole-heartedly. How do I enable? I am not clear on that. No, the spirit is not everywhere equally. But, it could be. Gee... I have felt the same as in sixth grade all these years... I not only know nothing, I don't even suspect nothing! Such as it was to me with others and Bach has me scratching my head a bit. I am, after all, only a poor lumberjack from Maine. Care to put that in simple talk? Thanks for the thoughtful comment.
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Hummmmm
Okay this is very deep, and the message is clear enough. i think i'll take it away and think for a while, then get back to you. Hows that?
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hummmmmmmm
Exactly the reaction I was looking for.
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