Chapter 13 - Surrender

Purgatory
© 30 July 2005, The Griot Poet

Eye am below Heaven and above hell
where familiar spirits dwell.

Teased between what appears to be
the "light at the end of the tunnel";
and the licking flames of discontent.

Oldies songs take me back to the seventies:
before sex;
before bills;
before marriage;
before responsibilities.

Eye remember
all eye ever wanted to do was to
make an honest living.

Somewhere in my story, eye discovered
[John] Milton's nine-level purgatory.

Vision... became lust;
"doing whatever it takes," violating sacred trusts.

If the soul is
the mind,
the will,
the imagination,
the emotions
and the intellect:
eye sold it!

When do visions become vain imaginations?
When does goal-setting lead to coveting?

Thrust into responsibilities before eye was trained and ready,

eye skipped down the "Primrose path" -- eye wide shut -- in "no mind,"
forgetting that
"action without thought"
takes prior planning
and much practice.

So, here am eye
at forty-three
feeling less like
Solomon
and more like
Ecclesiastes *

My prayers as the
vain repetition
of a heathen

Teased between what appears to be
the "light at the end of the tunnel";
and the licking flames of discontent.

*: Ecclesiastes 1: 2 Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, vanity of vanities; all [is] vanity.

My alter-ego revealed.

I originally wanted to title this chapter "Bankruptcy," since that option is on my mind, and the rules for it will change by October after the end of the fiscal year.

I've been on a two-year journey. I've documented the pains I've felt, the self-doubt, the despair, and the hopes.

This is a process, long, complicated.

I remember a video I saw of Charles Dickens in a class based on Steven Covey's "The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People." He was despondent, depressed walking through the despair of the streets of London in an economic depression -- with no story idea. For most of us that viewed it with hindsight -- I was sitting next to a very good friend that was up on her literature -- we recognized the beginning of the plot for "A Tale of Two Cities": It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.

That kind of recognition -- the zen balance of life -- is where I am now.

My emotions, and granted, I've been in touch with some I initially put away on a dark, machismo shelf for many years -- are validated.

My hopes for a better tomorrow are justified.

And my desire for meaning of this crazy phase of my life, is "vanity." Other translations say: "Everything is meaningless," says the Teacher, "utterly meaningless!"

The job I thought I wanted at the company I had an HR rep for is in a hiring freeze until early next year.

The job that started this blog called me -- twice -- and it looks good. My hope.

I surrender to the understanding of life. "For in much wisdom [is] much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow." Eccl 1:18.

I surrender to the seasons that must process through my life: "To every [thing there is] a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven": Eccl 3:1.

Seasons change every ninety days. I look forward to my time to heal, my time to laugh, and my time to dance! Eccl 3:3&4 [paraphrased]