hello again Hello again, Bagdad. There’s fire sinking, rising, sinking, rising, hot passion from groin to heart and back. Bagdad — my inside me — I hear you calling from within a fire — a fire inside me. I’m listening to you every word. We are both a vessel of a fire — a fire not of temperature or heat — but of almost pure energy this. It may feel like being in the middle of a hurricane — sometimes very still in the middle of it all. Where you are, where I am. Where the music is. The energy moves freely — with vast power, intense passion and infinite tenderness. Something like Beethoven The Transistion This is the part that's jumping into the fire -- no sign posts here -- going from THE MOMENT to THE NEXT MOMENT -- the space between -- where there's a suspension of regular thinking -- the stuff that anxiety is made of -- to a space of which dreams are made. We kinda know everything will be OK . . . Right now — I’m OK -- voiced by Liz Carmel, http://pegasusspeaks.com/right-now-im-ok/, Nov 2014 I’m trying to live on $900 a month. It’s not working. If I stayed in one place, not going anywhere or doing anything, I might be able to swing it. But then again, I doubt it. Insurance on my motorhome and car alone accounts for a fourth of my annual budget. And so I am forced to dip more into my savings which shouldn’t be a surprise — that was The Plan. But, as they say, the devil’s in the details and financially, the details in this devil suck. When I force myself to live in the present, this very moment, I realize that I’m OK. I have food, a roof over my head, heat and hot water, and a comfortable and warm place to sleep. I’m even getting used to the almost round-the-clock trains. But when I think about what happens next, how I will earn money at some unknown point in the future, my heart compresses and I panic. What was I thinking when I decided that a plan of no plan was a good plan? Whose stupid idea was that? Oh yeah, right. It was mine. I have no one to blame — or to thank? — but myself. Guilty as charged. Not too long ago, I didn’t look at price tags. If I wanted to buy something or do something, I bought or I did. I could fly to Milwaukee for Christmas without worrying about how much a plane ticket cost because I knew there was more money coming in. Now, not so much, not at all, actually. I find myself counting pennies and I don’t like it. I went to a pizza place in Hondo the other night with Valerie and Bob. They have an upscale kennel outside of Philadelphia. I felt their eyes on my back as I carefully counted out the change for my bill — $11.37. I had eleven dollars exactly and just a little over thirty-seven cents. It was close. Wow. I felt poor. I could have used my debit card but since Bob paid in cash I wanted to too. Yes, I am a copycat. 'I'm sorry but you obviously don't believe in God because you didn't forward the religious emails to 10 or more people in your address book.'Worrying Roan with my new nightly habit of periodically getting up from my desk to lie on the carpet next to him seeking insight, I ask — what the heck am I doing? But then I force myself to remind myself to tell myself that I am OK now. I have food, a roof over my head, new friends, a gin and tonic, high-speed unlimited Internet access, a very cozy bed, and Roan. I am OK now, this very moment. Is a life wide open, a life of infinite possibilities, worth daily double-D doubt? I have faith that it is but no concrete proof. Check with me later. Maybe I’ll know then. Or maybe not. It’s all a crap shoot and the odds are up in the air. But right now — I’m OK. - I will check with you later Liz. I'm anxious to see how the crap shoot is coming along and those around-the-clock trains Rate0
