Place of Refuge

Place of Refuge

02 May 2010

an aside: why I cannot seem to leave behind this question of origins

Weeellll, there are a few answers as to why I keep talking about things like God and origins:

I think about it.  Well, not every minute, but a good part of the time.  Some of my readers may find that rather pathetic, but, well, don't forget: I'm a 424 year old woman.  I've spent entire lifetimes being in love, producing babies, singing operas, selling my body, being sold by others without my knowing it.  Being used.  Using.  Only during this "lifetime" have I come to full possession of myself, refusing to use the people around me, and working to be utterly self-sufficient.  This is a difficult thing to hold onto, since so much of society is fashioned around diverting people's attention away from who they really are, and what they are supposed to be doing.

I've reached a point where this body of mine is just a husk, a shell, and the most active things in it are the ticker tape of my mind, the wind of my soul, and the scarred, scarred beating of my heart.

I can't have children anymore.

I don't want lovers anymore.

I simply long to know what it would be like to leave this realm, and yet,
I love the earth I live on so much and I love the sweet taste of life so much
that I can't stand the idea of leaving it.
And after all, I can't; I'm trapped in a spell conjured by a selfish lover, who
after damning me to eternal youth, just got old and died and left me.

Lovers:  Men who steal a part of your soul.  And I so willingly give it to them, because love is so essential to who I am.  I still live inside the fantasy that I can find my equal. That may be true for many women.  I don't know.  I'm only one woman.  But I've met so many women, I begin to feel that I could be the archetypical woman.  My history contains almost all of the pain and happiness that many women have experienced. 

My last lover --- ah, I love him still.  Somewhere deep inside of me, I believe that in him I finally met the partner I've traveled all over the earth in search of.  Unfortunately, he was not always nice to me.  Sometimes downright abusive.

So maybe he's no one special, just a good con man: it may just be that he, in his ability to mirror back to me what I wanted to see, let me see inside of me.  And there, inside of me, I found my soulmate.  Perhaps that's the mystery of the divided self: that our soulmate actually exists inside us, and can only be seen through the play of mirrors between your own soul and a reflecting lover's eyes.

Loving him was not always easy.  So in order to love him, my love soared beyond the ordinary.  So high it flew that I have a hard time now living back in my planet-bound, solitary life.  I wanted to love him, not just his very handsome exterior that impressed oh, so many women, but the man behind that, so what I gave was unequivocal; it forgave much; it produced a state in me that seemed almost like a place in heaven.  It was one terrific high.

Almost, but not quite.  Neither he nor I are gods; we are only human, limping about this earthly plane.

But for a little while I felt I saw heaven; here on earth, in a blade of grass, in a purring cat, in a lover's smile, in a touch, in a silent sharing.

It still pains me terribly to think about the end of our time together.

Suffice it to say, my current ramblings are in part an attempt to unravel the mystery I encountered through what we shared.  Or, the mystery I encountered through what I gave him.

But my entries are also in part grounded in two other fears/obsessions of mine.

Very early in this blog, I explain a message I received, about five years ago.  You see, I have this little tendency to hear voices and experience other such paranormal phenomenon.  This is something I don't admit too often, and it's best I do it in a fictional state.  This blog, in many ways, is my attempt to unfurl the meaning of that message.

The message was simple:

Jesus will come as the scholar in the four days of the grid.

When a message like that interrupts your dreams and rips you out of your sleep, and shocks you so much that you write it down, weeellll,  you don't forget it too quickly.

That, plus this whole 2012 thing.

No, I haven't seen the movie, and I don't really want to. But I've read some of the Mayan prophecies, and I've studied the Book of Revelation.  And I'm, well, for lack of a better word, kind of psychic.  I have two separate thoughts about this:

a.  I really fear that in the next two years, the media hype and paranoia is going to increase and increase and increase until people just starting killing each other and themselves.  We may have entire suburbs putting on their Nike Windrunners and drinking cyanide cocktails before going to bed at night.

Perhaps we'll create our own End of the World as We Know It.

b. There are signs, inarguable, natural signs, that the planet is going through a change, and that humanity is, too.  It's difficult, if you know anything about the Book of Revelation, to not see some parallels between the last twenty or thirty years and the events of the Endtimes, as predicted there.  The intensity of hatred and evil on the earth, the illness, the destruction of our natural environment, the deceit, and the feeling in my gut that we are facing something ominous.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm alive right now for a reason.  I wonder if I'm supposed to witness something, or foretell it, or perhaps just help put together the puzzle pieces.   Or if I'm just losing my mind.  If any of those possibilities are true, it is most likely the last one or two.  You see, I tend to think the Grid is the internet, which I (like many others) view as an extension of the human brain.  And if Jesus is to come again as the scholar perhaps this means that His Second Coming will manifest itself through a constructive, collaborative use of the internet.

I don't know if we're going to face an ending; rather, I  like to think we may face a new beginning. I have visions and thoughts about what that new beginning will be, and those visions and thoughts are directly related to my readings of what I feel are divinely inspired texts.

I play no favorites among the Major Religions.  I see credibility in all, and tend to feel that the messages they share lie at the heart of what is true to all of humanity.

If you haven't figured it out already, several of my entries are the direct result of something like channeling.  My problem is: if I do that for a few days, I ultimately become very very tired.  Which is why I am silent for awhile between some entries.

That plus the end of the academic year.  I'm a teacher in this lifetime, you see. A college professor.  It's the only place in this world that will have, him, and in which I can "pass" as somewhat normal.

1 comment:

BothEyesShut said...

Dear Ms. Makropoulos,

You will have to excuse me if I do not sound like myself; you're the first quadricentenarian I've had the pleasure of corresponding with, so I lack comfortable habits applicable to this situation.

You've written about much that I also concern myself with, and your perspective is equally chaotic. You assert an identity, then quickly remind us that she is not your only one. You describe a Jesuit prophecy, then say you do not ascribe to a religion. You write that you love your lover still, then explain that your soulmate is inside you and that you love merely the reflection.

I can agree wholeheartedly, and I want to encourage you (arrogantly, I realize) to persist in this performance. The world is, after all, a stage, or so some nitwit believed, and if there's anything provable at all on planet earth, I believe that it is the impermanence and asininity of proofs, truths, and realistic expectations themselves. In a life where nothing is what was promised, expected, supposed to be, or absolutely certain, the only certitude we have is the all-powerful SNAFU principle: the situation is absolutely normal, because it is all f*cked up.

That you seem to be receiving messages from resurrected deities incarnate does not surprise me. That you have not attempted to invite Mr. Jesus for dinner or beer, does. I have wanted that man to explain his cheek-turning business for some time now, and I cannot abide his usual, preferred mode of communication, as I have a strong personality and he invariably begins to sound too much like myself to be discerned.

Anyhow -- I'll be stopping in from time to time to see how your ink is flowing. Pleased to meet you, Miss.

Yours Truly,