Power is the ability to choose how you respond.

There are many ways to see things
Your perspective determines which and how much you will suffer

The quality of your consciousness is the quality of your life:
We are our thoughts – but more importantly, we must live with the feelings our thoughts create

We’re touching the surface now,
Joseph Campbell told us how:

“All the gods and all the devils and all the heavens and all the hells are within you.”
The gavel is yours, a double-edged sword only you wield

How often a sour eye for the world poisons a whole family’s hope –
Only now you’re an adult, and so must own the world you live in

But unless you accept that you have created the life you have,
You’ll never have the power to create the life you want

Because power is the ability to choose how you respond,
And we have always had it, whether we were consciously aware of it or not

This is no heavy weight; you are not here to “take” responsibility,
You are here to take it back

Because only you giveth and taketh away,
For your entire adult life it’s been that way

But now you’re safe, knowing if you didn’t consciously chooose a response,
Its just a reaction anyway

The patient wisdom of the space between stimulus and response, is your coup de grace,
By which you dead all automatic reactions, seperating danger from fear

So develop control of the avatar (response ability) or allow your body to ride you like a horse unto the grave (reactivity)…

Which will it be?

A Timely Read: Graham Greene’s ‘The End of The Affair’

Picked out Graham Greene’s acclaimed 1951 novel ‘The End of The Affair’ from my bookshelf and did not put it down until it was over. It felt very timely – as most significant reads somehow do. And I’m still thinking of it… rather tenderly.

A few passages in particular caught me in the throat:

“More than anything in the world I wanted to hurt Sarah. I wanted to take a woman back with me and lie with her upon the same bed in which I made love to Sarah; it was as though I knew that the only way to hurt her was to hurt myself.”

“Looking at her over my whiskey I thought how odd it was that I felt no desire for her at all. It was as if quite suddenly after all the promiscuous years I had grown up. My passion for Sarah had killed simple lust for ever. Never again would I be able to enjoy a woman without love.”

“I remembered how Sarah had prayed to the God she didn’t believe in, and now I spoke to the Sarah I didn’t believe in. I said: You sacrificed both of us once to bring me back to life, but what sort of a life is this without you?”

And poor, dear Perkis… how he “…had not heard that” about Lancelot. What a zinger!

There is, however – to my mild chagrin – a “surprise” twist of sorts, at the end, at which point the book’s acclaim as a ‘Catholic novel’ becomes clear. Points of faith aside, my jaw is still floored on the whole – even with the ending; although, at the end of my affair, with my Sarah, I stand indifferent to a God; however, this only proves the author’s point that we only hate what we love.

Had a Dream About Her

The dream:

I was waiting for her to return home from a night out – and so was in the bedroom, where I fell asleep to awake the next morning, alone, where I called her to ask why she never returned… but she told me she never went out… that she never left our home.

Dreams about exes are jarring. And the above dream has a particular ‘haunted by her ghost’ quality to it, which really gets my goat….

It’s like, okay, I’ve already dealt with the reality of being totally fucking disowned and ignored / rejected by my former love and “best friend” (Let me wipe my ass with these cheap words) – oh, and I have been living alone in the mountains the past year.

Like, wtf, has my sub-conscious not gotten the fucking measage!!?? You’re fucking less than dead to her bro. Have been. She doesn’t give a shit about you bud. Take it to heart. Deeply.

I was left twisting in the wind by my own romantic idealization of her – got it – but do I have to have a fucking dream to remind me that the dream isn’t even nearly as fucking sad as the reality.

She slow ghosted me over months – while repeatedly giving me faith we could and would be friends. She even hung out with my sister right before my visit for the holidays, which ended with her not wanting to see me and myself checking into the hospital. The pain caused a lot of self-abuse, even after that.

But has my subconscious not gotten the message after all of this. Four months sober on top of it. Like, am I a fucking joke to myself, just living my life like a dream where I am waiting for her to return, to be gaslit by her when she tells me she never left.

No, she left a long time ago – long before I knew it. I was just willing to believe. But no longer. The goddamn plane has crashed into the mountain!

So dear subconscious, please get the memo. Hopefully that was the point of the dream.