Day Dreaming

In Paradise

In my late teens and early twenties, I had a goal to read every book Maxwell Perkins edited by Ernest Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings, and Thomas Wolfe. Submarines afforded me a lot of time to read.

I dream with my eyes open. My superpower, aphantasia, gives me no picture memories, but I remember streams of quotes organized as though I were a flat rock or a piece of pizza skipping across a pond.

"Why has the web been woven? Why do we die so many deaths?" - Thomas Wolfe - Look Homeward Angel.

"Now he understood. This was death. Death was a silence that gave back no answer." - Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings - The Yearling.

I love to slipstream in the stream of consciousness and have since I was two. But not always. Left to that way of being, life is simple and easy. When I have ignored the small, quiet voice within, trouble appears and has lasted years at one thing or another. The upside is lessons galore learned and often prove useful elsewhere. When I use my understanding or, worse, someone else's, I must endure the death of silence, not as punishment, but as a favor to deepen the mystery.

Whenever I am quiet-minded enough and wait in the clearing, present to now, the small, quiet voice shares the path to take. Acting on Her inspiration has never failed me. When I don't wait, pay attention to Urgency, to the siren song of the strain, struggle, and sacrifice choir, the path is always arduous, an effort, and primarily lessons in failure. Eventually, worn out, frazzled, and finally willing to listen, the small voice within gives me the way out. He never chastises or condemns and hums a new song to clear the miracle's way.

I was studying "The Master Key System" by Charles F. Haanel on its 100th anniversary of publication, and an annoying toothache appeared. The Strain, Struggle, and Sacrifice choir had morphed into Black Sabbath only louder. I was in the front row. I still heard the small, quiet voice suggest the path. But I have insurance, I am surrounded by dentists and doctors who know what they are doing, and I bought the "ticket to Bombay" and entered into the care of an unknown dentist. At every choice point along the way, six years, six dentists, root canal, crown, insert, etc., I held onto that ticket and ignored the small, quiet voice suggestion. As the final option came to fruition, the small, quiet voice suggestion was always correct, and six years of encyclopedia-sized lessons are expensive.

Warranties and guarantees never give you your time back, nor do they pay all of the expenses, because you used that malarky to convince yourself at least you won't have to spend any more money after this. It is a long, foolish story about the most expensive root canal ever. It's a sad and funny comedy nobody would believe is true. The best part is that it all happened in Paradise. You don't have to go looking for happiness when it is where you come from.

There's no one thing that is true. They're all true. - Ernest Hemingway

Life is a comedy for those who think and a tragedy for those who feel. Show me a hero and I will write you a tragedy. - F. Scott Fitzgerald