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engaged

I had several visitors last night as I laid in bed; half way between deep sleep and subtle dreamlessness.

I was startled to wakefulness, becoming aware of a conversation I was having.

I never heard a reply with my conscious or olfactory senses, although my responses indicated I did.

I questioned the identity of my guest, by supposition of my most recent confidant.

I saw what appeared as clothing and style of my prior form, indicating I had yet to choose correctly the time we had met.

Like a common theme for the seasonal movie, ghosts of Christmas; the "past" was most poignant.

I can't say what we talked about or perhaps what secrets we shared, instead I am left with some impressions.

I have changed my mind, or tried some other reframing on Spirits and Angels and God.

Perhaps I denied something I should have maintained, and perhaps deny does not mean what you may think.

The word "deny" as I write it, explodes in all directions of meaning. Even the scenery I paint is misleading.

If I could tell you one thing to remember, like I tell myself right now...on Christmas Morning.

Denial is every bit as severe, as one would deny their lover, one cannot deny all stages of life.

From magical to mystical and higher, where visions of friends and luminous images lose their engagement.

Remembering the pain, I chose its absence, and in so doing I denied my own Mystery.

I can't think of what it means, I can only swim in its misunderstanding, but misunderstanding too, has responsibility.

I was angry because I couldn't decide, am I talking to myself as the autonomy I have climbed?

And too, I was angry because all those I deny touching, denied me; in all my many layers.

Even now, it would be easy to cry, and that is never easy for me.

I still don't know what to make of it all, or how I need to reconcile.

I have yet to reach the close of Christmas day, and so I promise to engage. Perhaps "engage" can climb to further meaning.

Merry Christmas!

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engaging…

Hi Anne,
 
Thank you for your heartfelt poetic post. Writing this way is not easy; it’s authentic and sincere for sure but easy, no way.
 
There is almost a plaintive cry here; one that contains no hints of desperation but is suggestive of a real call, something almost revolutionary in scope; I see it as a rare form of soul-searching, indeed a nitty-gritty aspect of human aspiration.
 
Is my view that such heartfelt supplications do not go unnoticed in the subtler areas of human comprehension; rather they tend to evoke a certain sort of feel or resonance.
 
So I say it's a good trick to be soulful, to in the same moment enjoin sadness and joy!
 
-Charles
 
 
 
 
 

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from limitation even greater, more firmly set, and dubious

I say hello and wish you well. Thank you.

ambo

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translucent engagements, misty interpretations

>I can only swim in its misunderstanding, but misunderstanding too, has responsibility.

I like this.

 

Thanks, I've been...

Layman Pascal

 

(to receive other "Weekly Harangues" write to: pretendtomeditate@gmail.com)

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Thanks

Merry Christmas to you too