Yeah, that Other World

People living in contradistinction of ourselves: The characterization of our old neighborhood had everything to do w/the surface viability of the known. That being I felt ever maintained that people constructed themselves thru appearances & the motility of their recourses around me as assurances they were in comfortable cognizance, all terribly assumed. Then when I spiraled into a solitarian lapse from the crowd, not only was being becoming reductive, but life's entirety became eventful in constant yet more disparate notions. A desert or void of Non-being, maybe spirit world w/only a few evidenciary facts. This narrative is One. = I have sought keys to opening up dormant chambers of the vital norm: meaning, those who live at our periphery--sometimes--see us as mere shadows. And as a shadow I've had the reality of a spirit world open up to me w/out being in the currency of the norm we typically attenuate. My nephews were out pitching baseball. The arc of the ball went barely over my head, & yet they didn't cease or acknowledge me coming between them--more, as I walked past, it was apparent our varied autonomy would not be breached at all. I got to the edge of the yard where they stood, into the neighbor's drive, placed my hands as if upon a ledge, & hefted myself into the air--while a dozen hands across this transparent surface countermanded my repose. I was conscious of the fact that I COULD stand upon this "ledge" & walk up into the adjacent tree...but from there, there was a sense of no-return. So simply, the momentary mid-air posture wasn't acknowledged by the boys, thence I jumped down walking past them again & back into the house. Just like the last few pieces of a puzzle, before I had stepped out of the house initially, I had known that my presence was in somekind of existential pocket. The look into some Cosmic niche first was just the purveyance I could assume from the details of wall decor to the wall's blemishes: obstacles as conduits into broader spatial reality. Distances as vast as a continuum intervening in-place of the immediate physicality, now was hinting at something portending to be bridgeable. & Full-On I wanted to beckon the spiritual nomenclature as I knew only a few other times would access be solvent. Figuratively, I just want to Bomb-Atomic until the next load. But that begs the question, what kind of factors in my environment will offer themselves up to my lowly existence, that I may breach the autonomy this mystically concealed reality has me chained to. Ignorance is concealment, but meanwhile we see that quality of our unknowing as a deficit to fill w/substance. Most people's problem is to fill it up w/self-preservation at the expense of being prone to transition & impermanence. Things go away, so we equal it by assuaging release, & feeling all the better that we hadn't clamored for consciousness. I got news for the unawake, consciousness is there to be won. And the death of one's spirit by dulling down DIFFERENCES that give life this wonderful path, is ridicule of this One World, defrauded by complexity & stress & consumate pain from desire. Truth is In the World, it is an answer outside of us...meaning we have to seek it. UNtil we make observations that consciousness is as much a satellite on our way from point A birth to point B rebirth, we will see ourselves one against the Outward fact. We visit consciousness just as we visit the post office or anywhere else that makes up the pattern of the music we call life in its myriad alliterative path. Consciousness is Outside of us. We scale this Cosmc House--this edifice that is our ever-goal to clothe our souls within.

The Hearth & Dragon at my first Home--some dream

In light of studying--its provenance--I can read Hebrew characters (masoretic), know some vocabulary, but to the point, have thought & meditated on Arabic, just as if it were on the table of scholarship as one imagines Bernard Lewis perhaps going thru evolutions & even convolutions til he saw this language as just as necessary as the Aramaic & Hebrew he'd already acceded-to in proficiency. I dreamt of my cousin's husband, she is a rebbitzen therefore he is a rabbi. He'd begun intently only recently at the time to study Aramaic. In the dream, we stood in my brother's room adjacent to the family room containing the fireplace. As if the ashes were subject to the outdoors, bricks were removed from the back of the grill & cool winter winds mingled thru our basement. Mark's Esher-esque mural in its conveyance dominating the psychic-theme of my early morning vision. I'd presumed it was a Sefardi Jew upon the flying carpet in its eternal loftiness & his view thru a window as out of a wall in a castle, but instead placed in a fold of the carpet. A dragon (leviathan?) to one side of him with maybe a terminating lotus-hand gesture. And to his otherside , the sprawl of a tree, like an axis mundi of the painter himself--I easily imbibe. The rabbi says to me, "read from your siddur (prayer book)!!" Well, it is regularly my motivation to do this--this is perhaps that interval in a few month period when I pick it up. So looking at the script, it may be kufic, but I don't know any Arabic characters, of course. Plainly his nod meant that seeking a teacher to diminish the worry that Judaic thought would lessen if only in my mind--needed a symbol that in fact it wouldn't. Admittedly consciously, I never felt disloyal to things-Jewish if only to study Islamic civilization. (I had one class at the Univ. of Ky, & continue with Goitein, Bernard Lewis, Edward Said *some*, Norman Stillman, Joseph Guttman etc.) But to personify the ideal, was to have some sense of a melamed as the FIRE that I've drawn ever closer toward. It all should be. I don't think that my solitarian home-life is a Promise= these kind of dreams emanating from this refuge--and then fulfilment=the kind of hindsight that I've gotten somewhere with an ideal in finding my mystics in another Arabia, as Kerouac puts it. In that its enormity is become reductive to me in a moment seeing in my mind's eye THe Tiamat, or the Arabian Tiamah cleaved into two=the void now making up a horizon beginning w/the sky above me & the earth at my feet. Marduk had done the cleaving with his great knife, perhaps. Tiamat is to the Hebrew tehom, as this tale is proto-semitic becoming our myth in Genesis (Bereshit). Or in this case a wilderness in a babel of lost tongues with only the language ladder of self-educated presentiments.