Aug 2, 2012


I jumped into bed tonight, turned off the light and then various visions of real (mostly) life experiences moved
about in myhead. I couldn´t sleep and neither of the above faces look like mine which added an odd element to dreaming while awake in the middle of the night.
Dear Friends, Followers, Curious bloggers and faceless/nameless Google-ists from afar and the great beyond even further than wherever afar is:

My mind is flowing from place to place and face to face tonight as I remember many feelings and actions that once, and sometimes still, confused/confuse me.  I´m remembering the people and places of it all. 

I´m remembering how once upon a time, in my less sober time, I seemed to always need to be filling-up space, to be overflowing with activity in my life so ¨it¨ wouldn´t leave big voids and emotional blanks that would scare me if I stopped trying as hard as I could to be someone, or handsome, or fine and good...maybe you knew or know of that strident clutching for more-than-my-share of life too?  It was suffocating the process of just living in the ¨right now.¨ 

I would grasp at the very next thing/thought I could attack to save myself from thinking about whatever that self-void, that inside hole, that pending betrayl was that haunted me and drove me so...don´t look back, just go, go, go. I ran!

I didn´t know why the ¨filling¨ up of life was so important...but ¨it¨ was important (vital). I didn´t know how to accept being ¨fully¨ present in reality without ¨doing¨ something to keep qualifying or fitting-in-it or smooching it until I couldn´t breath anymore and passed out (or the smoochie ran for cover).

I knew little of trusting in the world around me without grabbing at life, and many of you, by the edges of the greater energy around me as I insisted on projecting imagined success on-the-run that was mostly self-generated.  I had to find a way to be me, to be ¨someone¨ or I might not ever be a full-fledged person...afterall, I had authentic *secrets* that I only shared selectively (even with me)...wasn´t I different?  Wouldn´t you agree? I better get on with the fixing of me!

So I huffed and puffed and filled-in breaths of fresh air with whatever it took to run as fast as I could away from the spontaneous good that was always inside waiting for me to know *it* confusing it would be to ¨be¨ for over two decades to not ¨be¨ simultaneously with existing as a forgery (mostly).

I couldn´t pull it off.  I almost killed me trying to ¨be¨ a convulted me.  I had to go natural. Native.

I had to face reality sober.  I had to walk through the fears (and hate) that had tormented me...there was no longer anyplace/space to run or hide or grab, snatch, cover or thieve.  It was impossible to pull off being the authentic me without letting me ¨be¨ more patiently .  I surrendered to whatever is, to nature taking it´s course with me, to God of my understanding, to accepting good and also the real character inside of me.  A custom job.

Gore Vidal died.  I liked him (and in some ways he reminded me of the real me).

Peace be with you and with Gore Vidal too.

Leonardo Ricardo

1 comment:

JCF said...

A stirring remembrance/tribute.