Entanglement

Two weeks, alone. No schedule. No socials. No TV. Wake when I want to wake. Sleep when I want to sleep. Eat when and if I feel like it. Talk to myself. Talk to the dog, the plants, the house. Be silent, ‘cause I can do that, too. Zero in person face-to-face contact with another human being, just me and my dog and a serotonin dump that I’ve never experienced before in my entire life. No amount of drugs or alcohol ever made me feel this chill. Mornings are brighter. Nights less frightening. Time flows effortlessly, one moment into the next, and I with it, like a leaf on a stream. Moving through life is easier, is better, when you just surrender. Just be. Butterflies of all colors and sizes flit here and there, sometimes circling my head, taunting me with their beauty. A juvenile red tailed hawk has taken up residence in the trees surrounding the house. He swooped in low just as the sun was put to bed, stared at me curiously and then flew away. I sobbed. I am more myself than...

I have mastered silence. I can sit quietly with nothing but my thoughts for hours. Hell, all day. And the next day, and into the days that follow. It’s comforting, the repose. Sometimes I come back to myself in such a way that makes me sob. To be able to sit with yourself and simply, Be…is extraordinary. I recently read something that elicited such a moment. Something I’ve known for a very long time, but gets lost in the sauce when I let my attention stray too much into the swirling vortex of shit spewing from algorithmic goblins trying to inject fear into every waking moment via the hypnotic handheld scrying mirror that no one can seem to put down. But I digress. Bringing it back to center. “Out of everything the Universe could have become, it became something capable of wondering what consciousness is.” That’s me. That’s you. And we are all It, and therefore we are inseparable and yet, utterly divided. While stars burn, galaxies collide and atoms dance, humanity is losing the ...