They say people are living their lives half asleep until some life changing event happens and wakes them up.
Like cancer, it’s seen as a blessing sometimes, death or maiming is considered pretty wonderful too.
Then I look at my life and I realise I am blessed.
I look pretty normal and don’t have a football sized carcinogenic lump protruding from my head, I have all my limbs and they are in the right places and I could even be considered good looking by those looking for an Einstein crossed with Heathcliff kinda guy who dresses in bike gear.
So all good I suppose.
But a chunk of my head is buggered.
I actually sometimes delude myself that it is not.
I just watched the brilliant Stardust and there is a part at the end where the Captain winks at Humphrey and there is an exchange of looks.
I am lucky to have a partner who will stop films and say “did you get that”, even explains and winds the film back to show me. I missed it first time around and it is one of those moments that makes the film. She is my guide dog perhaps.
Annoyingly then, I have to accept it as a reminder of who I am.
The fact that I don’t understand these things, in a way could mean I am still sleeping, only am I half asleep or half awake?
I have been waking up since before I could walk.
Yet as a toddler I was fed half grains of Phenobarbital to knock me out, though apparently it made me hyperactive.
It is actually impossible for me to say I attracted or chose autism.
So it has to be down to providence.
And there in lies the rub.
I certainly choose to accept myself as I am. I am at peace, free and amazing.
So what next?
The battle of life seems to be a knife edge balance on a double edge sword.
I must accept the things I cannot change to find happiness.
Where I do not find happiness I must choose again.
But unless time stands still I must always be choosing, or providence will step in.
And only when I find happiness can I conquer love.
And only when I own love as a creative force can I choose again.
And yet, I have been struggling to define love.
It would seem that love is nothing?
Nothing at all?
In the same way that profound peace exists on the other side of extreme experience, when adrenalin peaks and there is no other place to go.
Love exists as nothing on the other side of ecstasy.
The split second of an orgasm holds the key to our physical creation.
And I have witnessed the moment of conception as a miracle.
Yet the miracle itself is subject to providence.
And for a time has to learn to accept before it can choose again.
When we truly learn to guide our creations we will conquer the system and be free.
See you on the other side of the looking glass,