Chapter 5

More leaves are down in this dream. Reading them, the oaks, are red, and brown. Beautiful. The southbound traffic of my head is all backed up and I think about that person at the party whose pants and jacket did not match .. The road winds North, entering basins and rivers and my brain finds the best pavement; new and perfect for riding bikes on. My mind skips and I cringe at myself ("keep dreaming") for never wanting to grow up after founding out what reality is like. I'm not sure what rural America thinks about the urban youth riding bicycles around on paths all days from place to place or maybe not even places, nor destination, but just idle. Simply nothing better to do or is every last person from my brilliant generation absolutely burnt out from it, IT being concealed from you now, and just ride their bicycles in the middle of the day because they (we) have nothing better to do? Or is it? The next post may address this.

For me now, awake, it is a Sierra Nevada Pale Ale along with an Americano as I play scrabble with Nikita, who is a completely different entity now. Maybe more as a change from growing older with the external edifice intact but the emotional mortar is in need of repair. She's still competitive -- but most of the words I put on the board reflect my mind's attempt to convey my inner workings to the person playing the game. Poison. Ivy. Individualism (the stepping stone to civil society regaining functionality - now it is apt to empower multiple individuals).

"We have one world, one sky and one chance. Get out there and take action!" But yes.

I go back to sleep and think about divinity and individualism. Some say "be yourself and try not to become anything else you are not already - stay in touch with your deepest nature and letting it flow though you unimpeded..."

Be less, (and thus, more timeless) as a witness. Be as breath and let go. The body will tell you which direction it is supposed to go to find that inner an eternal individual. My breath takes me to God and questioning of individuality and if that is what I truly want, "God is the breath inside the breath," Kabir says.

"But what if I have realized maybe I want to be banal and uninteresting to others and left alone and self-loathe for awhile and just be bland? What if I am already that entity already ..."

Transcendentalism has the answer, practical and spiritual. As Thoreau says, oft quoted, too oft -- "I went to the woods to live deliberately - to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."

So today, as I work at the "deepest conviction," and think about affecting the quality of the day, I must be awake to practice the art of living. Most of the day was spent out wandering in the woods and now I'm eating delicious soup. I know the cloud is lifting when I think of things that will never lose excitement and say it out loud.

"A flush in the woods :: my heart races everytime."