lilting lily talk….

must write another blog.  watching the sunset through green mesh placed over wood slabs for construction guys to walk on, so they can fix the rotting bricks out there or something.  their energy soothes me.  listening to them whistle and talk.  woke up at 3:41 am, from a weird dream with a tummy ache.  have not felt a tummy ache in years.  i don’t get them anymore.  but i had it, sizzling in waves….oh the aversion to it….weakens me….takes all of my energy…and i wonder if the tummy ache was connected to the shrimp and grits, or to helping spirits move out of delusion and into the light.  or both?  walked around in a total daze all day.  couldn’t eat till i had to get pho.  the pho was pure magic.  it helped me walk to the park, where i sat against the sculpture, closed my eyes, and let the sun drench my face, as i shivered with intense cold.  almost fell asleep.  so tired.  sauntered to work and put on the heater, freezing.  giving readings was good, but i felt so lilted, like a lilting lily.  like there was no more breath in me almost.  like 75 percent of me was not here.  but just physically, cause the rest of me was aware of being right here.  can one be in two places at once?  yes, they can.  i think i might be bi-locating right now and don’t realize i am doing it.  if anybody sees me some place other than capitol hill let me know, k?  when i woke up last night, i went right to facebook like a good computer pet, and there was a story ram dass posted about maharaji.  oh man.  this one.  so, in a nutshell, it’s about a girl who got severely abused by dark mystics in india, for years….it was awful, they gave her drugs to turn her into a zombie and they used her body and made her beg.  there’s darkness in every pocket of life.  she was drawn to them, on a search for her soul.  talk about dark night of the soul.  from paris, she was too.  one day she was able to get herself to the police, and long story short, made it home to paris, went into mental institutions and nothing worked to heal her of the shock.  it was code red all the way.  now, to shorten the story some, i am leaving out the part where ram dass came into contact with this girl’s mom, but he did, and she told him that one night, the girl woke up to see maharaji sitting by her bed, and the next morning, she was healed.  he had bi-located. i read this at 3:41 with an aching tummy, after waking from a bad dream, and burst into tears, calling his name, “maharaji!”.  it’s so fucking visceral.  i don’t know what is going on right now but it’s strange.  something that went missing also returned to me, in a different purse from the one i was using the night it vanished.  i am not gonna make mental meaning out of any of this.  just watching it all.  in the yellow zone, that emotionally neutral place that is both bright and empty.  now time to drink some tea and simmer down, on the couch, finding the inside again…