What My Guru Gave Me
It was a flash of hesitation as usual borne of some disruption to the familiar. Dress shoes, supple and leather soled- new. Impractical! I felt wobbled and unsure, lacking the shear girth and crocodile feedback that had defined my footwear choices since my youth. I adapt quickly, and I found trust and even progression in the somewhat slippery interaction between leather and the dense carpet.
Confident and strong in my lesson, my focus turned to the strange reality I had forged under the guidance of my guru. I had arrived. I had come to believe and accept the whole thing some time previous- but to arrive is another thing altogether. It was mine, I had done it, yet the physical reality still challenged me- one always pushes back- a bit anyway, the hallmark of the professional.
Who the fuck wears shoes- of a sort of warm cream cheese, upon taut carpet- in the city, outdoors, jeez.
Me. I understood that not as an abstraction, but as something that could happen, as a moment afforded to myself. That moment had arrived and I was prepared for it, committed to it. In many ways given to it. I absorbed it fully, now swelling against any previous misgivings. Full. Of. Light.
I smelled oranges and a hint of peppermint, my eyes saw only beauty and smiles. Every elegant truth. Honestly, I have no idea if those smells were present or if this was a trick of the mind. But in that moment I felt it, my nose crinkled at the bridge between the two conflicting memories. But the pleasure, my god I inhaled the pleasure of it all, the crinkle only served to frame it, to enhance the already intense.
Licked warmly and most fully by my fate, style, and sheer power. I was fully living. I was present in this flow, of past, of present, of dreams and of orange reality of self and all. Seamless, nothing conflicted or passed a single thought- this was the right version of the universe. A personal pinnacle for sure-ego. But also moving on it’s own- a natural and thus perfect aspect sustained me.
For it is this power that we seek, the one that is beyond ourselves. When that power fully provides itself to the individual- we know it. Flow.
I approached the door, which caused me to think of its weight, of the perfect balance of it’s installation- no nicks, how is that possible over all these years, does this carpet continue?
It opened in the flow and warm conviviality of the people inside overwhelmed me. This is certain in my mind as I tell you this. There was understanding, an intimacy that was directed towards me such as one cannot explain. I was accepted and loved. Just that- but fully now, and beyond my understanding.
Lush and beautiful are adjectives, my experience was beyond that though, it was a fullness, I had become beauty. It wasn’t words or gestures that indicated my arrival or my feelings- my specialness was nothing, my ego was nothing. It was simply a movement of the ancient energies of the universe that I was witness to, I was a proxy for all of what was happening. We were all equal, the ritual, the carpet had zero to do with me per se. The construct was melodrama for the new, the human, the basic.
Words flowed but in a different way, not all was pleasure but fear was absent. Challenge and question was matter of course, an organic fashion. Agreement was not necessary, but participation was. What was thought was understood, and in context. Fully in context, it was complicated for me- so many voices. But somehow we did it, a messy and personal process at every exchange- for both parties.
I found a door, more specifically I found a doorknob in my hand. I went in to a silent bathroom- the sweet away. Wow.
I wasn’t scared or motivated in any particular way. I just went to the window, a heavy old bastard of wood and perfect function. Raised it and smoothed through it. I literally did it in one relative motion- I opened the thing and just put my body through it without thinking. I guess it was time to go.
I hit the bricks in my my fucking cheese shoes, and my right leg instantly skitched out- landing me fairly hard on on my ass cooter bone. That hurt, but I had made zero noise so I used that success to recover.
I brushed off my suit not really worried and caught a beat, I started walking down the alley. I had zero idea for the why, the where etc. I just walked like a robot.
I caught some lights, a store, it wasn’t late. I grabbed a back pocket liquor bottle, not really thirsty or excited- but more living the archetype- motherfucker needs a drank after that thing. I thought of Xico that cool ass little dog.
