Archive for January, 2009

I wasn’t There

January 20, 2009

I wasn’t There

There are certain things in my life that I don’t seem to remember the way other people explain them. I believe that there was a person called Tom there– in these places and scenario they keep describing– who may have resembled an earlier version of me; he may actually have been an earlier version of me. I believe he was there. I am a different man now, and my ME is a distinct and evolved ME from the one who traveled those doings and dontings. And the herenow Me understands that there is no “there” anyway. Sometimes I get close to believing the There (big T)… and then I see that it really is just ” T here ” and I recenter and laugh at the myself — the Big I, Big Tom T–that isn’t.

Sometimes I am pleased and reminiscently warmed at the remembering of having been there, and sometimes I feel as if there is something like a little sister tugging on my sleeve, tugging on the sleeve of my Here and Now, saying “hey c’mere and play with me… you can come back later and Now will still Be Here”. And she is right, I suppose.

The Hereness has such a presence and a connection, and there is within me a commitment to the deepest feelings of the Me that is You and the Me that is God and the Me that is Unity; that commitment feels like an enlightening, a levity of Spirit where the gravities of the planet and the concerns of my silly head seem to float around like white feathers glinting sundrops. And this– when all is one and all is here and my brain is grinning and there are OM-ings enveloping the everything of every ticktock that ever clocktimed — this is enough.

After all, all is here. Big E Everything is here, all.

And still, something in me reluctantly speaks to the Everything with the odd notion of “i am going to be gone for a while, and I’ll be back for supper.” and the roulette wheel of choice stops on “forget” once again, and I open my eyes and say hello to my gods and glance at the clock and get up and take a piss.

And parts of those yesterdays come back to me. They are all the times that I told my patient god “hold on a second….” and chose to eat butterfingers or maybe flip on the latest Rascal Flatts song and feel my chest rumble as I sing or simply hop the bus and get to work an honest day… and they come back because they want to make the little i happy and what feels to the i like something whole.

Truth is that there is no whole for the little i, and there is no hole in the big I. And the winds of change can swirl and blow, and nothing changes what I Know. And the Big E Eye watches and giggles, and whispers that “nothin’ ain’t no biggee” and Big I know that’s gotta be right.

And the Eye of the Hurricance passes perfectly,

because the Eye of the Hurricane passes perfectly.

And if you’d like to, please tell me what you know about it all;

i don’t remember, because I wasn’t There.

Now I AM.

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