Aeon

THE SEVEN SOUL COMMITMENTS

2009-04-30T22:03:00.000-07:00

THE FIRST I commit to realizing my full potential for both closeness and autonomy. I open myself to learning about and honoring my essence - rhythms of closeness and separateness, and to learning about and honoring those rhythms in others.

THE SECOND I commit to full expression, to holding back nothing. This means telling the truth about everything, including my feelings, my fantasies, and my actions. I commit to telling the unarguable truth - truth that no one can argue with - instead of giving my opinions, beliefs, and prejudices. I also commit to listening, non-judgmentally, to what people say to me.

THE THIRD I commit to becoming the source of full responsibility for my life, including my happiness, my well-being, and my life-goals. I absolve everyone, living or dead, past or present, from any implication that they cause my feelings or actions in any way.

THE FOURTH When faced with the choice between being happy and being defensive, I commit to choosing happiness; I commit to doing this especially in those situations when my defensiveness seems most warranted and when it is totally obvious to me that I am right and the other person is wrong.

THE FIFTH I commit to learning to love and appreciate myself and others in my close relationships.

THE SIXTH I commit to the full expression of my creativity, and to inspiring the full creative expression of those around me.

THE SEVENTH I commit to celebration as the dominating emotional tone of my relationships. Particularly, I commit to celebrating the essence of myself and those close to me.

THE MASTER COMMITMENT The master commitment is a diamond with several facets. it begins in this way:

I accept relationship itself as my primary teacher about myself, other people, and the mysteries of the universe. I open myself to letting every relationship interaction, no matter how seemingly trivial, deepen my connection with my essence and the essence of others. I invite all healing powers in myself and the universe to remove any obstacles to my relationships being a source of joyful fulfillment to me in all my depths.

I commit to clearing up anything in me that keeps me from full loving unity with myself and my loved ones.

I make a commitment to intimacy that is greater than my commitment to being right and perpetuating my conditional patterns.

Copyright © 1996, The Light Party, Personal Transformation, Gay and Kathlyn Hendricks

Dance Me To The End Of Love

2009-04-27T22:48:00.000-07:00

Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin
Dance me through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in
Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Oh let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone
Let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon
Show me slowly what I only know the limits of
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love

Dance me to the wedding now, dance me on and on
Dance me very tenderly and dance me very long
We're both of us beneath our love, we're both of us above
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love

Dance me to the children who are asking to be born
Dance me through the curtains that our kisses have outworn
Raise a tent of shelter now, though every thread is torn
Dance me to the end of love

Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin
Dance me through the panic till I'm gathered safely in
Touch me with your naked hand or touch me with your glove
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love

Leonard Cohen

A Thousand Kisses Deep

2009-04-27T22:45:00.000-07:00

The ponies run, the girls are young,
The odds are there to beat.
You win a while, and then it’s done –
Your little winning streak.
And summoned now to deal
With your invincible defeat,
You live your life as if it’s real,
A Thousand Kisses Deep.

I’m turning tricks, I’m getting fixed,
I’m back on Boogie Street.
You lose your grip, and then you slip
Into the Masterpiece.
And maybe I had miles to drive,
And promises to keep:
You ditch it all to stay alive,
A Thousand Kisses Deep.

And sometimes when the night is slow,
The wretched and the meek,
We gather up our hearts and go,
A Thousand Kisses Deep.

Confined to sex, we pressed against
The limits of the sea:
I saw there were no oceans left
For scavengers like me.
I made it to the forward deck.
I blessed our remnant fleet –
And then consented to be wrecked,
A Thousand Kisses Deep.

I’m turning tricks, I’m getting fixed,
I’m back on Boogie Street.
I guess they won’t exchange the gifts
That you were meant to keep.
And quiet is the thought of you,
The file on you complete,
Except what we forgot to do,
A Thousand Kisses Deep.

And sometimes when the night is slow,
The wretched and the meek,
We gather up our hearts and go,
A Thousand Kisses Deep.

The ponies run, the girls are young,
The odds are there to beat . . .

Leonard Cohen

Anthem

2009-04-27T22:44:00.000-07:00

The birds they sang
at the break of day
Start again
I heard them say
Don't dwell on what
has passed away
or what is yet to be.
Ah the wars they will
be fought again
The holy dove
She will be caught again
bought and sold
and bought again
the dove is never free.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.

We asked for signs
the signs were sent:
the birth betrayed
the marriage spent
Yeah the widowhood
of every government --
signs for all to see.

I can't run no more
with that lawless crowd
while the killers in high places
say their prayers out loud.
But they've summoned, they've summoned up
a thundercloud
and they're going to hear from me.

Ring the bells that still can ring ...

You can add up the parts
but you won't have the sum
You can strike up the march,
there is no drum
Every heart, every heart
to love will come
but like a refugee.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.
That's how the light gets in.
That's how the light gets in.

Leonard Cohen

Le Petit Prince

2008-12-15T15:20:00.000-08:00

"What is that object?"
"That is not an object. It flies. It is an airplane. It is my airplane."
And I was proud to have him learn that I could fly.
He cried out, then:
"What! You dropped down from the sky?"
"Yes," I answered, modestly.
"Oh! That is funny!"
And the little prince broke into a lovely peal of laughter, which irritated me very much. I like my misfortunes to be taken seriously.
Then he added:
"So you, too, come from the sky! Which is your planet?"

Be In Touch

2008-12-12T12:19:00.000-08:00

I sent out and email a few weeks ago requesting comments and have gotten nothing back. So I have decided to post the email here to see what that does. Here is the original email (sent out to friends originally) requesting comments:

I have been keeping this blog (one among many) for some time now, posting here and there -- sorting "things" out on the page (sharing what I've learned) or posting songs that reflect my personal experience, and while I get some visitors I would like more. Please feel free to subscribe to my feed or become a follower and keep in touch. Make comments. I want to have a conversation going on here.

In a way, I want this blog to become a practice in communication. So, if you're interested please join in the practice of communication with me.

If I do not know you and you are reading this make a comment by way of introduction.

Also for those of you who would like to be added to the email updates (basically you'd get an email whenever I post) let me know.

Be Brave

2008-12-11T14:47:00.000-08:00

Share your sweetness.

"A coward is incapable of exhibiting love; it is the prerogative of the brave". Mohandas Gandhi

Finals

2008-12-08T21:04:00.000-08:00

I can't help but spend 4 days writing about dance improvisation even though I know she only expects us to spend an hour or 2 writing up some simple review.

The Symbolic Raccoon

2008-12-03T20:21:00.000-08:00

The Raccoon is a powerful ally and holds the gift of transformation. When it appears in a persons life the many faces of self are about to be revealed.

To get home tonight I took the trail through the eucalyptus trees which is about a half mile thick. Halfway through, I came across a group of raccoons. They saw me before I saw them and hurried off into the shadows (out of the light from the lanterns which line the path) to the base of one of the trees, where they sat watching me as I waked by. Remembering I had my camera with me, I turned back to get some shots thinking back on what one of my teachers had told me about the raccoon's message. After I stood there for awhile taking photos, I guess they realized they were safe because one of them started towards me, followed by the others, sniffing and shuffling around in the ground as they walked, as if they were looking for something.

Feeling a little uncomfortable with their ease and advancement, I started backing up at one point. Not yet realizing they were only pretending to be curious about what might be on the ground, I kept up with my photo taking. Still, I felt something, or should I say, had an instinctual sense that something was off here and started walking quickly backwards. At which point, one of them, I'm not sure exactly how it happened actually, but this one started picking up the pace too. So I started casually running backwards, thinking somehow that it would not be smart to turn my back on them.

My heart started racing. I swear the one raccoon was looking me in the eye.

I picked up the pace even more and actually started running. The raccoon ran after me maintaining my same speed till I finally turned my back to it, still watching it over my shoulder, wondering how fast raccoons could run....

Once I had reached a "safe" distance, safe by both of our standards it seems, it stepped off the path into the shadows again.

This being not the most intense experience of the tonight, let's just say it's been an extraordinary night, it was the most profound teacher.

Experiences have become a source of immediate learning for me; I'd rather not call them lessons. Lessons are an unwelcome thing, in that, they imply difficulty, and my whole deal is about ease.

So be easy and have your experience.

Be Willing

2008-11-26T09:52:00.000-08:00

Moving into transparency, I see that not everyone is there, and that this kind of honesty makes some people uncomfortable.

People are "transmitting" a reality and sometimes these realities function more like inconsistencies or, variable, self-contradictory patterns. Like foreign matter that got mixed-in with the paint, gradually, with each stir of the bucket, changing the tone and texture of their lives.

Becoming aware of these "foreign elements" is the challenge and then processing them with consciousness rather than experiencing, time and time again, the same old pattern of self-betrayal through automatic living (automatically playing into the pattern that inevitably takes us away form our destiny) we can choose to drop it, just like that.

Universal Speak

2008-11-24T15:21:00.000-08:00

Moving away form the personal and into the universal -- let this blog be a practice from here on out in communication across-the-board, one of loving inclusive talk.

Point Arena, Setting SUN

2008-11-24T08:43:00.000-08:00

I was up in the Marin Headlands, at Point Arena, this weekend with Dr. Khalsa and company -- we watched the sun set to close both day's practice. Saturday's sunset was marked by thick fog allowing shades of lavender to show through. Absolutely brilliant. Sunday night's sunset was a good example of one-pointed consciousness, suggesting that it is always possible. All that is required of us is to see what is most brilliant to our lives and then gaze into it as though we are becoming it. We can truly become what we are doing, seeing, holding, being.

Have your experience! Live your life.

Narcotango!

2008-11-12T21:38:00.000-08:00

How I Feel

2008-11-02T20:58:00.000-08:00

Krisnamacharya 1938

2008-11-02T14:40:00.001-08:00

B.K.S. Iyengar 1938

2008-11-02T14:29:00.001-08:00

I'm a rainbow too!

2008-10-27T16:38:00.001-07:00

Forget neckties... How do you tie a turban? (I just really find this example to be beautiful.)

2008-10-26T07:00:00.000-07:00

Javi!

2008-10-24T21:57:00.000-07:00

...missing you!

Ah Ha!

2008-10-03T12:35:00.000-07:00

I think I finally get it. There have been years passing and not enough work to account for it. I must have been thinking there would be some moment where my life would finally come into focus but that's not IT.

It doesn't work like that..
Or does it...? Ahhh... The paradoxes!
Is this that moment?

I am realizing there is a fine thread passing through this life and that this thread is me and everything else is an accident, a beautiful mistake. I see that I am a poet, that I practice yoga, that I love healing (period), and that there is a need in me (most moments) to be as truthful as possible; as IN TRUTH as I can be. Hum.. now I've lost the original thing I was going for here. Isn't life funny.
I am moving into purpose more than ever now and it's kind of nice, I only feel a few years behind.
I believe I will teach Kundalini Yoga, get licensed in Harmonyum Therapy, and teach dance at the deepest level. I'll write, dance, and heal people (help them to heal themselves). I'll breathe and move into transparency with everyone who's willing.

Ha Ha Ha Bless Your Soul (Gnarls Barkley)

2008-09-29T21:37:00.000-07:00

I remember when, I remember, I remember when I lost my mind
There was something so pleasant about that place.
Even your emotions had an echo
In so much space

And when you're out there
Without care,
Yeah, I was out of touch
But it wasn't because I didn't know enough
I just knew too much

Does that make me crazy
Does that make me crazy
Does that make me crazy
Possibly

And I hope that you are having the time of your life
But think twice, that's my only advice

Come on now, who do you, who do you, who do you, who do you think you are,
Ha ha ha bless your soul
You really think you're in control

Well, I think you're crazy
I think you're crazy
I think you're crazy
Just like me

My heroes had the heart to loose their lives out on a limb
And all I remember is thinking, I want to be like them
Ever since I was little, ever since I was little it looked like fun
And it's no coincidence I've come
And I can die when I'm done

Maybe I'm crazy
Maybe you're crazy
Maybe we're crazy
Probably

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bd2B6SjMh_w

Theremin Cover:

Equinox

2008-09-22T19:50:00.000-07:00

The Sun crossed declination 0 (the celestial equator) today. I sang Long Time Sun for an hour, 3:30ish to 4:30. I hope your day was bright!

So that's what she's been up to.

2008-09-20T17:43:00.000-07:00

Come Home

2008-09-08T20:17:00.000-07:00

The moon keeps expanding and I've had a blessed day. I am still surprised at people's surprise at what I say--it seems so common; it's just common knowledge! Hahah. All this I say--you and I in a world all our own. This is your world too--come home.

Miss Him

2008-09-06T15:31:00.000-07:00

Why do I have to still miss him? He killed himself and did not let any of us know him like we needed to and I have to miss him more than most? Makes no sense. Pain is a strange thing. It's a friend, it's an enemy--it makes you remember things you had long forgot; it shows you what you're afraid to look at. It lets you know. It is also deceptive; people get stuck in comfortable habitual patterns all the time. It can be painful stepping out of that.

Colors

2008-09-06T15:06:00.000-07:00

Sometimes when I think back to my friends after a night of hanging out I see them in colors. Like Willow for example, she's all green and sometimes red streaks come in like ribbons. Thinking back to my teens, I remember classifying people based on the color they reminded me of (or the color they would emit). I love that I get to come back to myself, full circle, after these 10+ years exploring other possibilities. I feel that I've come home in so many ways.

Freaky Freak

2008-09-01T11:16:00.000-07:00

In our dream
You were the best lover
I'd ever had and I
Was your
Sweet freak.

In our dream
I was the best lover you'd ever had
And you were my
Sweet freaky freak.

The Symbolic Moth

2008-08-28T21:18:00.000-07:00

Moths are nocturnal, by nature, illusive in spirit, and much of their symbolism deals with intuition, perception, awareness, and clarity.

Some theories support the idea that moths use the moon as a primary reference point [having] the ability to calibrate their flight paths as the Earth's rotation causes the moon to move across the sky. (There is even evidence to support the theory that migrating moths have an internal geomagnetic compass system to guide them in the right direction.)
(http://animals.howstuffworks.com/insects/question675.htm)

Creatures guided by the moon hold a subtle vulnerability to us sun worshipers, yet, I believe, blind sight is often the best--it's better not to know; it's better being empty. Then all that was meant to be yours and ours in this moment on these days in this world will flood into you me I we us and them. Would you risk being that empty?

The moths ask us to be THAT EMPTY, be THAT GUIDED; they also show us the paradox of having a predisposition of migrating into and through faith. But honestly have you ever seen a moth drawn to a flame and die in the process? They are drawn to our artificial lights, not flames as the saying goes, because their nervous systems have not caught up yet. Evolution will change that.

Moths remind us to be open to our experience, allowing for periods of acclimation, and to acquire forms of protection--like patterns in your mind or behavior or expressions (whatever that means for you).

Indeed, we find this theme of protection in the moth’s chrysalis [the hard outer case of this, esp. after being discarded]. The moth’s coccoon is like an internalized womb with a hard casing, allowing more protection against the elements. (http://animals.howstuffworks.com/insects/question675.htm)

This may be analogous of garnering protection for ourselves in our spiritual practices. The moth reminds us to realize the heart is a treasure to be taken care of. Part of this caretaking involves nurturing and protection during times of development.

As a dream symbol, the moth may be interpreted as a message to listen to our inner voice. Dreaming of the moth may also indicate we are on the path to attracting love into our lives (see more about the moth and love symbolism here).

Another dream animal aspect of the moth deals with influence. Here, our dreaming mind may ask our waking mind what is it that rules our attention, or what are we allowing to overly influence us in our daily lives?

These Rags

2008-08-26T18:26:00.000-07:00

I can smell you in these rags. You were like quicksand; nothing to hold onto. No more sinking now. You and I lived in a world designed for one. Where's that?
I smell you in these rags but you're not there. You never were. It was just me, fighting with myself, off in some corner. And it makes no difference where you are now. It makes no difference where you were then.
It was just me, fighting with myself, off in some corner.

Oxymoron

2008-08-25T00:12:00.000-07:00

Don’t let anyone insult you by telling you that you "eat like a bird", birds eat 10 times their weight in food everyday.

--------------------------------

2008-08-20T22:07:00.000-07:00

I've known both ways of being.

In your eyes and
up above, we saw different things that night.

She always ran after you; you kept slipping through the cracks -- then there was that day you jumped from the window in plain sight. I saw you jump. I watched you from her mind. I tried to tell her, go see him -- we're not alright.
Now you're fragmented
And she's forgot nothing.

--------------------------------------------

I don't want to be without my family again. I'm here in San Antonio feeling safe and protected. It's been a long time since I've felt like this.

I don't love being alone like I used to be.

These past couple of months, being here in Texas, taking trips up to Austin; the sense of displacement that I have felt for many years lifted from me. I could feel it go the moment I got out of the car our first trip up (to Austin) back in June; the moment I stepped on the ground.

I know this place in my body.

It's a wonderful sensation knowing there are people near by who have known me my whole life. I can't actually say why I enjoy knowing this now while it meant nothing to me before. I must have changed. ;)

Besides, it is brilliant to be walking around in a place that also exists in my heart. I don't want to describe this feeling. Once you describe a thing it changes it somehow. It's like the ambiance of the place is holding me. Opps, I just described it! ;)

Gotta love it!

2008-08-17T16:07:00.000-07:00

Kaysha - Good Life 2005

Daniel Day-Lewis

2008-08-02T21:12:00.000-07:00

http://www.guardian.co.uk/film/2008/jan/13/awardsandprizes.danieldaylewis

Tiny Dancer

2008-07-23T22:32:00.000-07:00

Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band
Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man
Ballerina, you must have seen her dancing in the sand
And now she's in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand

Jesus freaks out in the street
Handing tickets out for God
Turning back she just laughs
The boulevard is not that bad

Piano man he makes his stand
In the auditorium
Looking on she sings the songs
The words she knows, the tune she hums

But oh how it feels so real
Lying here with no one near
Only you and you can't hear me
When I say softly, slowly

Hold me closer tiny dancer
Count the headlights on the highway
Lay me down in sheets of linen
you had a busy day today

Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band
Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man
Ballerina, you must have seen her dancing in the sand
And now she's in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand

This song was my only saving grace on an hour ride home from Austin with my mom, having already spent the hour up, feeling like my heart was going to explode.
She has become like those characters in fairytales who are so depraved in one form or another that they start to consume anything near them until there is only garbage left and then they consume that till they are so ugly no one recognizes them. At which point they start eating their loved ones because they are that far gone. Yes, that's how I see her today. Wow.

Sungha Jung

2008-07-21T23:04:00.000-07:00

Thanks Greg!

Estas Tonne Feeds You

2008-07-01T17:36:00.000-07:00

Love long guitar solos

2008-07-01T17:17:00.000-07:00

Ambiotikca: saw this group at Grace Cathedral last year -- now called Outlaw Dervish

2008-07-01T17:12:00.000-07:00

"The future is very open..."

2008-06-25T22:56:00.000-07:00

Chemical

2008-06-06T18:13:00.000-07:00

Everything's chemical to me these past few days. I feel trapped in this body and somehow still loving it. White Zombi is on, More Human Than Human. Life, or (pandora.com) has such a good sense of humor. Ha!

California

2008-06-02T00:58:00.000-07:00

James Taylor Fire And Rain

2008-05-31T17:47:00.000-07:00

Cat Power - I Found A Reason (cover)

2008-05-31T17:38:00.000-07:00

Oh I do believe
In all the things you say
What comes is better than what came before

And you'd better come come, come come to me
Better come come, come come to me
Better run, run run, run run to me
Better come

Oh I do believe
In all the things you say
What comes is better than what came before

And youd better run run, run run to me
Better run, run run, run run to me
Better come, come come, come come to me
You'd better run

The Moment

2008-05-29T16:37:00.001-07:00

Do you ever feel like your life is playing out forwards and backwards simultaneously, like you can feel the moment of your death as vividly as any given moment; at the same time your life is caught by time, held up in an instant -- there is a moment to remember and a moment to forget -- a moment in exact accordance with the present felt sense and one that is a whisper? I'd like to think we all have experienced this phenomenon, like some shared memory or dream from the past, but I think I might be alone on this one... ahahahhhh. I think I used to take myself much more seriously than I do today and that, that was my problem. The depth of this feeling and the humor I find in it is deeply satisfying. It seems, the one without the other would be missing half its parts.

"I used to live in the moment, and then the moment burned down." - some random quote by an anonymous person

I am having memories... thinking back; the kind that just come to you when you start down a track. I'm thinking about Tony and how real everything felt (back then) 'cause these moments feel that real if not.... Not to compare. These moments feel cleaner; these days are a fascination, as they happen, in the moment, in my memory, as we create them; I know you and you know me and this is our house and these are our friends and here is our Love.

BLU

2008-05-23T10:34:00.001-07:00

http://blublu.org/sito/video/muto.htm

Scatter Out

2008-05-18T23:58:00.000-07:00

The first plants reproduced by a simple adaptation of their aquatic counterparts, the spore. In the sea, plants, and some animals, can simply scatter out genetic clones of themselves to float away and grow elsewhere. But plants soon evolved methods of protecting these copies to deal with drying out and other abuse. The protection became the seed, though it had not yet evolved the flower.
Several groups of extinct gymnosperms, particularly seed ferns, have been proposed as the ancestors of flowering plants but there is no continuous fossil evidence showing exactly how flowers evolved.
The general assumption is that the function of flowers, from the start, was to involve other animals in the reproduction process.

Yesterday

2008-05-16T15:02:00.000-07:00

She left lavender chocolate on my pillow and fiji water by the bed. She made sure I had everything I needed including unconditional love; and I felt it. I felt it and I did not want to sleep. I stayed up till 4 am last night doing god knows what. I did a lot of laundry and took an amazing shower after sweating all day in this heat that has strangely found it's way into the hills.
My plants are burned now. I think they'll most likely die.

When In Rome "The Promise"

2008-05-14T15:11:00.000-07:00

Digital Voice Recorder

2008-05-14T14:55:00.000-07:00

My Olympus DS-2 arrived in the mail today. Digital voice recordings are exciting.

Different Sort

2008-05-13T16:17:00.000-07:00

So this is my world (Mills) and occasionally I visit other planets. And oh man! You guys are seriously a different sort.

I found a storage space today for the summer and there were these men helping me. I got the sense there weren't any women in their lives and that I was some rare thing they were unsure of how to play with. It seemed they knew nothing of my kind, only having heard vague stories about women when they were children; it was as if they were playing these stories out in their head as they spoke with me. It was a little eerie.

Writing, Years Go By

2008-05-12T18:07:00.000-07:00

I will be slipping away into neverland this week; that's where you'll find me if you need me. Rachel just did a good job of finding me there. Writing is what takes me to it. I never thought I would be this old, ever. And I am so happy to have made it here.

Billy Crudup

2008-05-12T01:18:00.000-07:00

"Anyway, like I started telling you before, I was hitching a ride, looking for Michelle. The pills the traveling sales man fed me made the lining of my veins feel scrapped out. My jaw acked. I knew every raindrop by it's name. I sensed everything before it happened." - dialogue from Jesus' Son, the movie; with Billy Crudup acting the part of FH

Wish List

2008-05-03T13:58:00.000-07:00

If you feel the need to get me a gift yet are stumped by what it should be, here, I can help you. I have this little wish list where I put stuff I'm interested in because I like to shop way before I buy. I pre-shop for most everything, if only in my mind; you know? Hahah...

Connection

2008-04-23T17:47:00.000-07:00

"It just makes you look weak and fearful; not cleaver. So knock it off."

2008-04-22T19:41:00.000-07:00

"Imagination, I would say."

2008-04-22T08:56:00.000-07:00

skip to 21:00 Billy Crudup

Tis Anythings Possible...!

2008-04-19T18:14:00.000-07:00

I wonder how other people decide what they are going to do with their time. Lately, I have not been having fun. College is for teenagers.

I owe the school $7,750 at the moment. My financial aid fell through somehow; some issue with paperwork and such. I am not a "paper person". And looking at those figures and the fact that I have learned absolutely nothing this semester that I could not have learned reading a couple of used books, for a grand total of maybe 15 bucks, I feel bazar. Not cheated, just silly.

The experience itself has been enjoyable. I love my music teacher and have had a profound experience learning the symbolic relationship dance and story telling share by Ann. I just don't know if it's worth it.... Next year I will be looking at spending $51,784 for the year.

Kundalini is calling me.

A Favorite

2008-04-18T21:15:00.000-07:00

Poetry
Pablo Neruda

And it was at that age...Poetry arrived
in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don't know how or when,
no, they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among violent fires
or returning alone,
there I was without a face
and it touched me.

I did not know what to say, my mouth
had no way
with names
my eyes were blind,
and something started in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,
and I made my own way,
deciphering
that fire
and I wrote the first faint line,
faint, without substance, pure
nonsense,
pure wisdom
of someone who knows nothing,
and suddenly I saw
the heavens
unfastened
and open,
planets,
palpitating planations,
shadow perforated,
riddled
with arrows, fire and flowers,
the winding night, the universe.

And I, infinitesmal being,
drunk with the great starry
void,
likeness, image of
mystery,
I felt myself a pure part
of the abyss,
I wheeled with the stars,
my heart broke free on the open sky.

Nowhere and Nothing

2008-04-14T23:51:00.000-07:00

When did life get so complicated? I used to have time and space to myself. I had all the time in the world. I was not headed anywhere and there were no dead lines. I was free inside the loneliness of having nothing and expecting nothing. I miss the emptiness of Nowhere and Nothing. Here in California (I'm blaming it on California today) I feel cramped and agitated. There are very few moments were someone is not trying to get ahead of someone else. It's a race all around me. And I'm tired. And I miss you.
My nephew Graham was born yesterday. He's one day old. I haven't talked to my sister yet but my mom called today. She said he doesn't look like anyone in the family. I think he'll be amazing of course. I look forward to meeting him soon.
I wish I were a day old tonight. It sounds so simple.

2008-04-14T23:16:00.001-07:00

Hahahah...

2008-03-30T17:52:00.000-07:00

You know when you're having a conversation with someone and then there is that moment when you realize your reality does not match theirs? I just had a moment like that with myself.

2008-03-29T20:33:00.000-07:00

What Does Atzmi Mean?

2008-03-29T01:59:00.000-07:00

In Hebrew, the word atzmi (written עצמי) has two separate but related meanings. In everyday speech, it means "me," "my self," "my very essence."

In the traditional terminology of Kabbalah and Chassidic thought, the word atzmi (derived from the Hebrew word etzem, meaning "core" or "essence") is used to refer to the ultimate Godly expression of all human traits in their purest, most intrinsic form. For example, wisdom or compassion in its "atzmi state" refers to Godly wisdom or compassion at their highest possible levels.

It is only when both types of atzmi—our human "self" and the intrinsic Divine "essence"—are in alignment that we are able to maximize our potential and actualize our real selves.

Establishing, Changing & Maintaining Habits

2008-03-29T01:56:00.001-07:00

The following three major traits make up our system of habits:
a) The instinctual ability to identify and choose habits that are beneficial and appropriate to your true personal needs and circumstances.
b) Flexibility and openness to changing habits, adopting new habits and adjusting to them. This includes the acceptance of sudden, unexpected life changes related to work, daily schedules, and general plans.
c) The tendency and ability to retain and maintain habits permanently.
The present set of traits refers only to the instinctual inclinations of the soul and is separate and distinct from the cognitive-intellectual or emotional spheres.
Of course, even someone who lacks the instinctual inclination for choosing, adopting and maintaining new habits can still be assisted by a well-developed cognitive awareness that will help him or her to adopt and maintain appropriate habits.

http://www.atzmi.com/

Motivation to Action

2008-03-29T01:51:00.000-07:00

What are our true motivations for acting the way we do? All of us are constantly preoccupied with the many actions through which we reveal ourselves to the world in matters large and small. Whether or not we are aware of it, we leave our mark wherever we go. Thus the central question here is: What are the underlying motivations that guide our actions?

Is the motivation for a certain action the desire to satisfy my personal needs, that is, because it will benefit me personally, or give me pleasure or gratification? In other words, are my actions guided solely by “my best interests,” “my gain,” by “what’s in it for me”? Or conversely, is my behavior geared toward a true purpose in the absolute sense, meaning that my actions are entirely focused on doing the right thing without my own personal good entering into the picture. When the latter is the case, my own personal interests are satisfied regardless—without any additional “effort” or outside “source” coming into play, but strictly from the action itself.

The present trait can be manifest on both the theoretical level (in matters of a more general, basic nature) and the personal level (between friends, life partners, coworkers and the like). In either case, the question is whether my actions are directed toward the good of the other, or are they guided by my own self-interest. Does the world exist in order to benefit me, or should I be the one doing the giving? What is my purpose in life, and from what do I derive greater satisfaction—influencing and contributing to the world around me in the service of true goals (general or personal), or pursuing pleasure and personal gain by seeking the “stimuli” that will satisfy these ends.

Obviously, what we are presenting here are the extremes at both ends of the spectrum. In reality, this trait can occur at any and all intermediate levels between these two points.

http://www.atzmi.com/

Transforming Potential to Actual—Quickly

2008-03-29T01:50:00.001-07:00

There are some people who have the instinctive ability to get things done in the quickest way possible and with the fewest delays. Conversely, there are others who stretch things out far beyond what is necessary. (It should be noted that this quality is separate and distinct from the following traits discussed elsewhere: "Motivation to Action,” which gauges whether our actions are for a true purpose or for our own benefit; and "Focused Action,” which looks at whether we do things in an efficient manner, with a minimum of wasted motion/activity.)
In any situation, there are naturally constraints or limitations that govern our actions. What we are examining here is the ability to get things done quickly, which is actually the result of finding the right balance between all the factors at play in a given set of circumstances. This trait refers to the talent for correctly weighing the "balance of power" between these competing forces, and integrating them successfully, so that we are able to carry out the desired action as quickly as possible.

http://www.atzmi.com/

Natural Resistance to Dependencies & Addictions

2008-03-29T01:33:00.001-07:00

Contrary to conventional wisdom, dependencies and addiction do not refer only to disorders involved in alcohol and drug use, but have a much wider basis and meaning. The tendency to addiction or developing dependencies can be expressed in one's habits, behaviors and relations with other people. In other words, one can develop a dependency on other people, places, and one's established patterns of behavior.

In addition, some people who start to develop dependencies find it easy to wean themselves away when they become cognizant of it, while others find it more difficult to stop a dependency or addiction once it has taken hold.

http://www.atzmi.com/

Emotional Courage

2008-03-28T21:10:00.001-07:00

It is important to distinguish this trait of emotional courage from self-awareness, belonging to the cognitive-intellectual sphere, in addition to setting boundaries and limits, self awareness allows one to discern reality properly and then impose one's cognitive conclusions on emotions. Courage rooted in the natural-behavioral sphere, is that natural, automatic confidence to face the world. Someone can possess inner emotional courage, yet lack behavioral courage to face the world.

http://www.atzmi.com/

Intellectual Openness

2008-03-28T21:08:00.001-07:00

There are people who are intellectually open and flexible in both the abstract/theoretical and/or practical applied spheres. They are able to adapt themselves to new patterns of thinking when the need dictates, and to easily accept the opinions of others even when they differ from their own. Other people find it difficult to adapt to new patterns of thinking or to acknowledge and accept the opinions of others. This trait focuses on the degree to which you are intellectually open and flexible in both the abstract/theoretical and practical applied spheres, and how easily you acknowledge and accept the opinions of others, even when they differ from your own.

http://www.atzmi.com/

Arguments for Decision & Decisiveness

2008-03-28T21:05:00.000-07:00

Our ability to reason, and to arrive at rational decisions, consists of three main components:

a) the ability to intuitively offer arguments, justifications and explanations in favor of a given option (without relying on logic, analysis, deduction, etc., and based solely and directly on perceptions);

b) the ability to logically deduce arguments, justifications and explanations in support of a particular decision;

c) the separate ability to arrive at a decision in practice, independent of any logical or intuitive arguments/rationalizations, whether such arguments are deduced on one’s own or derived from external sources.

(NOTE: The present trait refers only to intellectual decision-making ability, unaffected by any emotional or instinctive qualities; the latter will be discussed separately, along with their effect on decision-making.)

http://www.atzmi.com/

Inner Satisfaction

2008-03-28T21:04:00.000-07:00

Each of us is capable of experiencing a sense of fulfillment or satisfaction (or simply a feeling of contentment) for a range of reasons. By the same token, we can experience dissatisfaction or a lack of fulfillment in a variety of circumstances.

However, true satisfaction is by nature a trait that is not dependent on, or tied to, any outside factor. It is an intrinsic, essential quality that affects the state of the soul even without the presence of any external cause that might evoke the experience of satisfaction (or dissatisfaction).

The trait described below focuses precisely on this point: What are the intrinsic, fundamental feelings of satisfaction or dissatisfaction that are ingrained in the essence of the soul, regardless of outside events? Or stated otherwise, what is the degree of inner satisfaction (or dissatisfaction) that naturally exists in the soul at all times, even in the absence of positive external factors?

http://www.atzmi.com/

Inner Happiness

2008-03-28T21:02:00.000-07:00

The trait of inner/intrinsic happiness—or conversely, of sadness or despondency—is familiar to all of us and can appear against the backdrop of a wide variety of circumstances, both good and bad. In other words, some people have the ability to remain basically happy even during hard times, while others may be naturally unhappy even when life is going well. Like the trait of “Inner Satisfaction” described elsewhere, happiness or sadness are, in essence, internal traits that are experienced even in the absence of any external reason, meaning that they affect the mood of the soul regardless of outside events. Precisely at times when there is no external source of happiness, it is all the more important for us to know “who we really are” and what intrinsic/natural level of happiness (or its opposite) we have at our disposal.

http://www.atzmi.com/

Ambition

2008-03-28T20:06:00.000-07:00

This trait—willpower, drive and ambition—is the third of the three components associated with the soul’s general traits of self-actualization and willpower. The other two components in order are, first, the overall objective of self-actualization and a purposeful existence; and second, the ability to bend one’s aspirations to actively pursue lofty goals and objectives.
Each of these components can be present to a different degree, independent of one another. There are some people who have a very deep, constant longing for self-actualization but have difficulty defining objectives that are truly important. Or they may be weak in terms of willpower, meaning that they have no aspirations apart from the very generalized desire to actualize themselves. Alternatively, they may be very ambitious and strong-willed but not know what they should be striving for; as a result, they may end up considering many possibilities that are inappropriate for them personally. They are merely caught up in the quest for variety, with no interest in finding a true purpose in life or something better for them than what they are presently pursuing; in fact, they may even run away from seeking such a goal. Self-actualization does not interest them, despite the fact that they have powerful ambitions in many areas. Of course, there are also people in whom all of these traits are present to a similar degree (whether high or low); but more frequently these qualities occur in different combinations of intensity, each according to the individual personality.
The current trait involves the feeling of “I want”—something we are all familiar with. When the desire for something is kindled, it can take over a person’s entire reality and “drain” all of his/her other energies (intellect, emotion, etc.) in pursuit of this one goal. An individual’s willpower, or strength of purpose, can be moderate or powerful, depending on the person’s nature. Some people adhere more strongly to their goals while others are not particularly ambitious.
A key point to be emphasized here is that the strength of a person’s will, however great, does not in any way reflect the appropriateness or suitability of the goal(s) in question for that particular individual. When a person wants something (even very much), this does not necessarily mean that this thing is right for him or her. To the same degree that our desires can be good and appropriate, they can also be geared toward an objective that is not suited to us. While a person’s will is a basic, important component of his overall system of self-actualization and aspirations, and it is certainly helpful to have a strong will, by the same token it is no less important to direct our willpower toward goals that are true and appropriate for each of us.
Such a shaping of the will can only be accomplished in combination with the higher two components: (1) self-actualization and willpower—the basic inner longing for self-actualization and for what is indeed good and suitable for us; and (2) the ability to bend the will to aspire to goals that are truly appropriate. Without the addition of these traits, a person’s will is liable to desire not only things that are beneficial and appropriate for him/her but also things that are not necessarily good or right, and may even cause harm.
As stated, the present trait relates solely to willpower, or strength of purpose, in and of itself.

http://www.atzmi.com/

Never Had

2008-03-28T01:14:00.000-07:00

He told me tonight we never had a loving relationship.

I see now, from his perspective, how I made the whole thing up in my head. He says we never had a loving relationship; that he did not take anything form me (and that he is not depriving me of anything). It’s liberating in a way... It means nothing really had the weight I thought it had and I can be reassured somehow in that. But I want to turn my skin inside out - I feel filthy with him inside of me.

Highly Sensitive Persons

2008-03-26T01:04:00.000-07:00

About 20% of us are highly sensitive persons (HSPs); at least 34% of love relationships involve a HSP. And everyone has at least one HSP friend. On average HSPs are a bit happier paired with each other because they understand each other.

Highly Sensitive? Answer Yes or No:

1. I am easily overwhelmed by strong sensory input.
2. I seem to be aware of subtleties in my environment.
3. Other people's moods affect me.
4. I tend to be very sensitive to pain.
5. I find myself needing to withdraw during busy days, into bed or into a darkened room or any place where I can have some privacy and relief from stimulation.
6. I am particularly sensitive to the effects of caffeine.
7. I am easily overwhelmed by things like bright lights, strong smells, coarse fabrics, or sirens close by.
8. I have a rich, complex inner life.
9. I am made uncomfortable by loud noises.
10. I am deeply moved by the arts or music.
11. My nervous system sometimes feels so frazzled that I just have to go off by myself.
12. I am conscientious.
13. I startle easily.
14. I get rattled when I have a lot to do in a short amount of time.
15. When people are uncomfortable in a physical environment I tend to know what needs to be done to make it more comfortable (like changing the lighting or the seating).
16. I am annoyed when people try to get me to do too many things at once.
17. I try hard to avoid making mistakes or forgetting things.
18. I make a point to avoid violent movies and TV shows.
19. I become unpleasantly aroused when a lot is going on around me.
20. Being very hungry creates a strong reaction in me, disrupting my concentration or mood.
21. Changes in my life shake me up.
22. I notice and enjoy delicate or fine scents, tastes, sounds, works of art.
23. I find it unpleasant to have a lot going on at once.
24. I make it a high priority to arrange my life to avoid upsetting or overwhelming situations.
25. I am bothered by intense stimuli, like loud noises or chaotic scenes.
26. When I must compete or be observed while performing a task, I become so nervous or shaky that I do much worse than I would otherwise.
27. When I was a child, my parents or teachers seemed to see me as sensitive or shy.

Christ as The Sun God

2008-03-23T13:07:00.001-07:00

If you are moved to do so, please express your opinion of or reaction to this post. There is a comment button below. You can post anonymously if you like.

Assimilate

2008-03-19T21:56:00.000-07:00

...just a spark of thought to work with later....

verb
absorb, take in, acquire, soak up, pick up, grasp, comprehend, understand, learn, master; digest, ingest, subsume, incorporate, integrate, absorb, engulf, acculturate; co-opt, adopt, embrace, admit, integrate, blend in

LIfe and School

2008-03-19T17:28:00.000-07:00

I am afraid I am doing it wrong.... hahah.

I never think, am I prepared for life today? I do what is necessary and life just happens. I wake up and the events of the day fall into place. One moment feeds into another and then the colors of the day fall into place. The mood, the light, the quality of the air that day... I am affected.

School requires, or a least it asks of you that you prepare something for the day or the week. This is a hard one for me. It's like a heavy weight I carry around with me, mostly in the morning.

I absorb information and then spontaneously share it as I am inspired to do so. In general, I respond spontaneously to a given moment and remain empty outside the impetus that calls me forth, it can be anything.

I love being that empty! So, I have been presented with a challenge.

Is the challenge to be prepared to throw out what I have practiced and prepared for a given day. If it is, I'm okay with that. I can learn to play like that. I might even welcome the challenge of finding a way to be light through a practice because waking up in the morning with a heavy rock on top of me is time consuming.

Animated by the spontaneity and the constant feed of life, I am almost happier being caught off guard, so to speak. I live in a world that has invisible rules. I do not understand the laws of "have to" and "should". I want to play. I love only the things in life that happen out of dynamic relationships. I simply accept the rest.

Today I have been asked to stop listening to life and plug into the task of learning practice and play without the counterweight of a living pattern to reflect. Today I have been asked to be an object. I have been asked to be three-dimensional instead of a windowpane. And I love to reflect! That's what I do.

Mud in the Ionosphere

2008-03-19T16:39:00.000-07:00

It rained mud in San Antonio yesterday.

Wish List

2008-03-18T22:09:00.001-07:00

My birthday is coming up in May. If you feel the need or desire to get me a gift and also have the need for inspiration in what to get me I have a wish list on Amazon that has all kinds of items on it, ranging in cost from $3 to $200 bucks. Just a thought.

Your Flight is Coming Another Night

2008-03-17T19:30:00.000-07:00

Your other night was a flight that came inside to steal away 'cause destiny can wait a day.
The other day you came by to say, another your had to steal a way.
Your other's stolen way, a day. How long a day can you stay? Inside that flight was night.

Make Something Of It

2008-03-16T21:49:00.000-07:00

http://www.ted.com/index.php/talks/view/id/66

Mid Terms

2008-03-16T20:26:00.001-07:00

I can't write a mediocre paper. Funny.

Cloud Archive Spoke To Me

2008-03-15T20:47:00.000-07:00

I saw them last Thursday night. See them live if you get the chance, they are nice to watch perform. The drummer especially reminds me of home.

Base Jumping in Wingsuits

2008-03-15T01:33:00.000-07:00

Sótano de las Golondrinas

2008-03-15T01:24:00.000-07:00

Becoming O. J. Guleke

2008-03-07T00:02:00.000-08:00

GULEKE, JAMES O. (1891-1938). James O. Guleke, attorney and philanthropist, son of Edward Guleke, was born in Grayson County, Texas, on January 8, 1891. He moved with his parents and sister to Childress at the age of six, then eight years later to Amarillo, where he graduated from Amarillo High School in 1910. He worked his way through Baylor University as a bookkeeper, graduated from the University of Texas law school in 1915, and was admitted to the bar. He began his law practice in Amarillo in the summer of 1916. When the United States entered World War Iqv in 1917 Guleke enlisted in the service and went to camp at Leon Springs. Although he was given a captain's commission in the Fourth Texas Cavalry, he was released because of physical disability and subsequently was in charge of the supply troop at Amarillo. He married Agnes Seewald on November 21, 1917. They became the parents of a son and two daughters.

In addition to practicing law at the firm of Stone and Guleke, formed in 1921, Guleke emerged as a prominent philanthropist and civic leader. He was a member of the Central Presbyterian Church in Amarillo and, like his father, a leader in the local and state Masonic order. He was a charter member of Amarillo's Khiva Shrine Temple, of which he served as potentate in 1927-28. In 1926 Guleke became a regent of West Texas State Teachers' College (now West Texas State University) at Canyon. He and others proposed and sponsored the building and development of the Goodnight Trail into Palo Duro Canyon State Park,qv and he also was instrumental in sponsoring Palisades Park. In addition he was a charter member of the State Board of Education and published its reports. He also served as president of the Amarillo Bar Association.

Guleke's health eventually broke, and in the summer of 1938 he went to Colorado to recuperate. On his return he joined Dr. and Mrs. Loy Smith for a weekend fishing trip to Socorro, New Mexico. Smith later claimed that Guleke had been on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Whatever the reason, he committed suicide during the night of August 28-29, 1938, in Socorro. His body was taken back to Amarillo and interred in Llano Cemetery, which he had helped to beautify years before.

BIBLIOGRAPHY: Amarillo Daily News, August 30, 1938. Joseph A. Hill, More Than Brick and Mortar (Amarillo: Russell Stationery, 1959). History of Texas, Together with a Biographical History of the Cities of Houston and Galveston (Chicago: Lewis, 1895). Vertical Files, Barker Texas History Center, University of Texas at Austin.

H. Allen Anderson

There is something called the Edward S. Guleke Student Excellence Award; that must be him:

Edward S. Guleke Student Excellence Award - This prestigious student award, established by the Friar Society in partnership with the Association, recognizes an individual at the junior level or above who has distinguished academic credentials, has made significant contribution to the University through campus-wide activities and evidences the personal attributes of character and integrity that have earned the respect and admiration of his or her peers.

I also found this:

http://images.amarillolibrary.org/cdm4/item_viewer.php?CISOROOT=/PhotoArchiv&CISOPTR=703&REC=7

SANTERIA and Yoruba Mythology

2008-03-04T17:00:00.000-08:00

http://www.santeriareligion101.com/
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yoruba_mythology

Stage Beauty

2008-03-04T02:43:00.000-08:00

"You see a man through the mirror of a woman through the mirror of a man. You take one of those reflecting glasses away... It doesn't work. The man only works because you see him in contrast to the woman that he is. If you saw him without the her he lives inside he wouldn't seem a man at all."

Alpha Brain Fractals (for creativity)

2008-02-26T15:03:00.000-08:00

Delta Brain Fractals (for sleep)

2008-02-26T15:02:00.000-08:00

Theta Brain Fractals (for memory)

2008-02-26T15:00:00.000-08:00

Wisdom of the Universe

2008-02-26T14:51:00.001-08:00

Beautiful Example

2008-02-26T14:44:00.000-08:00

Kate Bush - Aerial

2008-02-21T16:04:00.000-08:00

Before and After

2008-02-21T03:10:00.001-08:00

CocoRosie

2008-02-16T18:23:00.001-08:00

Nadja Auermann

2008-02-15T14:50:00.000-08:00

Outrageous THIERRY MUGLER

2008-02-15T14:06:00.000-08:00

Poe

2008-02-13T12:39:00.000-08:00

The Pit and the Pendulum

by Edgar Allan Poe
(1850)

Impia tortorum longos hic turba furores
Sanguinis innocui, non satiata, aluit.
Sospite nunc patria, fracto nunc funeris antro,
Mors ubi dira fuit vita salusque patent.

[Quatrain composed for the gates of a market to he erected upon the site of the Jacobin Club House at Paris.]

I WAS sick -- sick unto death with that long agony; and when they at length unbound me, and I was permitted to sit, I felt that my senses were leaving me. The sentence -- the dread sentence of death -- was the last of distinct accentuation which reached my ears. After that, the sound of the inquisitorial voices seemed merged in one dreamy indeterminate hum. It conveyed to my soul the idea of revolution -- perhaps from its association in fancy with the burr of a mill wheel. This only for a brief period; for presently I heard no more. Yet, for a while, I saw; but with how terrible an exaggeration! I saw the lips of the black-robed judges. They appeared to me white -- whiter than the sheet upon which I trace these words -- and thin even to grotesqueness; thin with the intensity of their expression of firmness -- of immoveable resolution -- of stern contempt of human torture. I saw that the decrees of what to me was Fate, were still issuing from those lips. I saw them writhe with a deadly locution. I saw them fashion the syllables of my name; and I shuddered because no sound succeeded. I saw, too, for a few moments of delirious horror, the soft and nearly imperceptible waving of the sable draperies which enwrapped the walls of the apartment. And then my vision fell upon the seven tall candles upon the table. At first they wore the aspect of charity, and seemed white and slender angels who would save me; but then, all at once, there came a most deadly nausea over my spirit, and I felt every fibre in my frame thrill as if I had touched the wire of a galvanic battery, while the angel forms became meaningless spectres, with heads of flame, and I saw that from them there would be no help. And then there stole into my fancy, like a rich musical note, the thought of what sweet rest there must be in the grave. The thought came gently and stealthily, and it seemed long before it attained full appreciation; but just as my spirit came at length properly to feel and entertain it, the figures of the judges vanished, as if magically, from before me; the tall candles sank into nothingness; their flames went out utterly; the blackness of darkness supervened; all sensations appeared swallowed up in a mad rushing descent as of the soul into Hades. Then silence, and stillness, night were the universe.

I had swooned; but still will not say that all of consciousness was lost. What of it there remained I will not attempt to define, or even to describe; yet all was not lost. In the deepest slumber -- no! In delirium -- no! In a swoon -- no! In death -- no! even in the grave all is not lost. Else there is no immortality for man. Arousing from the most profound of slumbers, we break the gossamer web of some dream. Yet in a second afterward, (so frail may that web have been) we remember not that we have dreamed. In the return to life from the swoon there are two stages; first, that of the sense of mental or spiritual; secondly, that of the sense of physical, existence. It seems probable that if, upon reaching the second stage, we could recall the impressions of the first, we should find these impressions eloquent in memories of the gulf beyond. And that gulf is -- what? How at least shall we distinguish its shadows from those of the tomb? But if the impressions of what I have termed the first stage, are not, at will, recalled, yet, after long interval, do they not come unbidden, while we marvel whence they come? He who has never swooned, is not he who finds strange palaces and wildly familiar faces in coals that glow; is not he who beholds floating in mid-air the sad visions that the many may not view; is not he who ponders over the perfume of some novel flower -- is not he whose brain grows bewildered with the meaning of some musical cadence which has never before arrested his attention.

Amid frequent and thoughtful endeavors to remember; amid earnest struggles to regather some token of the state of seeming nothingness into which my soul had lapsed, there have been moments when I have dreamed of success; there have been brief, very brief periods when I have conjured up remembrances which the lucid reason of a later epoch assures me could have had reference only to that condition of seeming unconsciousness. These shadows of memory tell, indistinctly, of tall figures that lifted and bore me in silence down -- down -- still down -- till a hideous dizziness oppressed me at the mere idea of the interminableness of the descent. They tell also of a vague horror at my heart, on account of that heart's unnatural stillness. Then comes a sense of sudden motionlessness throughout all things; as if those who bore me (a ghastly train!) had outrun, in their descent, the limits of the limitless, and paused from the wearisomeness of their toil. After this I call to mind flatness and dampness; and then all is madness -- the madness of a memory which busies itself among forbidden things.

Very suddenly there came back to my soul motion and sound -- the tumultuous motion of the heart, and, in my ears, the sound of its beating. Then a pause in which all is blank. Then again sound, and motion, and touch -- a tingling sensation pervading my frame. Then the mere consciousness of existence, without thought -- a condition which lasted long. Then, very suddenly, thought, and shuddering terror, and earnest endeavor to comprehend my true state. Then a strong desire to lapse into insensibility. Then a rushing revival of soul and a successful effort to move. And now a full memory of the trial, of the judges, of the sable draperies, of the sentence, of the sickness, of the swoon. Then entire forgetfulness of all that followed; of all that a later day and much earnestness of endeavor have enabled me vaguely to recall.

So far, I had not opened my eyes. I felt that I lay upon my back, unbound. I reached out my hand, and it fell heavily upon something damp and hard. There I suffered it to remain for many minutes, while I strove to imagine where and what I could be. I longed, yet dared not to employ my vision. I dreaded the first glance at objects around me. It was not that I feared to look upon things horrible, but that I grew aghast lest there should be nothing to see. At length, with a wild desperation at heart, I quickly unclosed my eyes. My worst thoughts, then, were confirmed. The blackness of eternal night encompassed me. I struggled for breath. The intensity of the darkness seemed to oppress and stifle me. The atmosphere was intolerably close. I still lay quietly, and made effort to exercise my reason. I brought to mind the inquisitorial proceedings, and attempted from that point to deduce my real condition. The sentence had passed; and it appeared to me that a very long interval of time had since elapsed. Yet not for a moment did I suppose myself actually dead. Such a supposition, notwithstanding what we read in fiction, is altogether inconsistent with real existence; -- but where and in what state was I? The condemned to death, I knew, perished usually at the autos-da-fe, and one of these had been held on the very night of the day of my trial. Had I been remanded to my dungeon, to await the next sacrifice, which would not take place for many months? This I at once saw could not be. Victims had been in immediate demand. Moreover, my dungeon, as well as all the condemned cells at Toledo, had stone floors, and light was not altogether excluded.

A fearful idea now suddenly drove the blood in torrents upon my heart, and for a brief period, I once more relapsed into insensibility. Upon recovering, I at once started to my feet, trembling convulsively in every fibre. I thrust my arms wildly above and around me in all directions. I felt nothing; yet dreaded to move a step, lest I should be impeded by the walls of a tomb. Perspiration burst from every pore, and stood in cold big beads upon my forehead. The agony of suspense grew at length intolerable, and I cautiously moved forward, with my arms extended, and my eyes straining from their sockets, in the hope of catching some faint ray of light. I proceeded for many paces; but still all was blackness and vacancy. I breathed more freely. It seemed evident that mine was not, at least, the most hideous of fates.

And now, as I still continued to step cautiously onward, there came thronging upon my recollection a thousand vague rumors of the horrors of Toledo. Of the dungeons there had been strange things narrated -- fables I had always deemed them -- but yet strange, and too ghastly to repeat, save in a whisper. Was I left to perish of starvation in this subterranean world of darkness; or what fate, perhaps even more fearful, awaited me? That the result would be death, and a death of more than customary bitterness, I knew too well the character of my judges to doubt. The mode and the hour were all that occupied or distracted me.

My outstretched hands at length encountered some solid obstruction. It was a wall, seemingly of stone masonry -- very smooth, slimy, and cold. I followed it up; stepping with all the careful distrust with which certain antique narratives had inspired me. This process, however, afforded me no means of ascertaining the dimensions of my dungeon; as I might make its circuit, and return to the point whence I set out, without being aware of the fact; so perfectly uniform seemed the wall. I therefore sought the knife which had been in my pocket, when led into the inquisitorial chamber; but it was gone; my clothes had been exchanged for a wrapper of coarse serge. I had thought of forcing the blade in some minute crevice of the masonry, so as to identify my point of departure. The difficulty, nevertheless, was but trivial; although, in the disorder of my fancy, it seemed at first insuperable. I tore a part of the hem from the robe and placed the fragment at full length, and at right angles to the wall. In groping my way around the prison, I could not fail to encounter this rag upon completing the circuit. So, at least I thought: but I had not counted upon the extent of the dungeon, or upon my own weakness. The ground was moist and slippery. I staggered onward for some time, when I stumbled and fell. My excessive fatigue induced me to remain prostrate; and sleep soon overtook me as I lay.

Upon awaking, and stretching forth an arm, I found beside me a loaf and a pitcher with water. I was too much exhausted to reflect upon this circumstance, but ate and drank with avidity. Shortly afterward, I resumed my tour around the prison, and with much toil came at last upon the fragment of the serge. Up to the period when I fell I had counted fifty-two paces, and upon resuming my walk, I had counted forty-eight more; -- when I arrived at the rag. There were in all, then, a hundred paces; and, admitting two paces to the yard, I presumed the dungeon to be fifty yards in circuit. I had met, however, with many angles in the wall, and thus I could form no guess at the shape of the vault; for vault I could not help supposing it to be.

I had little object -- certainly no hope these researches; but a vague curiosity prompted me to continue them. Quitting the wall, I resolved to cross the area of the enclosure. At first I proceeded with extreme caution, for the floor, although seemingly of solid material, was treacherous with slime. At length, however, I took courage, and did not hesitate to step firmly; endeavoring to cross in as direct a line as possible. I had advanced some ten or twelve paces in this manner, when the remnant of the torn hem of my robe became entangled between my legs. I stepped on it, and fell violently on my face.

In the confusion attending my fall, I did not immediately apprehend a somewhat startling circumstance, which yet, in a few seconds afterward, and while I still lay prostrate, arrested my attention. It was this -- my chin rested upon the floor of the prison, but my lips and the upper portion of my head, although seemingly at a less elevation than the chin, touched nothing. At the same time my forehead seemed bathed in a clammy vapor, and the peculiar smell of decayed fungus arose to my nostrils. I put forward my arm, and shuddered to find that I had fallen at the very brink of a circular pit, whose extent, of course, I had no means of ascertaining at the moment. Groping about the masonry just below the margin, I succeeded in dislodging a small fragment, and let it fall into the abyss. For many seconds I hearkened to its reverberations as it dashed against the sides of the chasm in its descent; at length there was a sullen plunge into water, succeeded by loud echoes. At the same moment there came a sound resembling the quick opening, and as rapid closing of a door overhead, while a faint gleam of light flashed suddenly through the gloom, and as suddenly faded away.

I saw clearly the doom which had been prepared for me, and congratulated myself upon the timely accident by which I had escaped. Another step before my fall, and the world had seen me no more. And the death just avoided, was of that very character which I had regarded as fabulous and frivolous in the tales respecting the Inquisition. To the victims of its tyranny, there was the choice of death with its direst physical agonies, or death with its most hideous moral horrors. I had been reserved for the latter. By long suffering my nerves had been unstrung, until I trembled at the sound of my own voice, and had become in every respect a fitting subject for the species of torture which awaited me.

Shaking in every limb, I groped my way back to the wall; resolving there to perish rather than risk the terrors of the wells, of which my imagination now pictured many in various positions about the dungeon. In other conditions of mind I might have had courage to end my misery at once by a plunge into one of these abysses; but now I was the veriest of cowards. Neither could I forget what I had read of these pits -- that the sudden extinction of life formed no part of their most horrible plan.

Agitation of spirit kept me awake for many long hours; but at length I again slumbered. Upon arousing, I found by my side, as before, a loaf and a pitcher of water. A burning thirst consumed me, and I emptied the vessel at a draught. It must have been drugged; for scarcely had I drunk, before I became irresistibly drowsy. A deep sleep fell upon me -- a sleep like that of death. How long it lasted of course, I know not; but when, once again, I unclosed my eyes, the objects around me were visible. By a wild sulphurous lustre, the origin of which I could not at first determine, I was enabled to see the extent and aspect of the prison.

In its size I had been greatly mistaken. The whole circuit of its walls did not exceed twenty-five yards. For some minutes this fact occasioned me a world of vain trouble; vain indeed! for what could be of less importance, under the terrible circumstances which environed me, then the mere dimensions of my dungeon? But my soul took a wild interest in trifles, and I busied myself in endeavors to account for the error I had committed in my measurement. The truth at length flashed upon me. In my first attempt at exploration I had counted fifty-two paces, up to the period when I fell; I must then have been within a pace or two of the fragment of serge; in fact, I had nearly performed the circuit of the vault. I then slept, and upon awaking, I must have returned upon my steps -- thus supposing the circuit nearly double what it actually was. My confusion of mind prevented me from observing that I began my tour with the wall to the left, and ended it with the wall to the right.

I had been deceived, too, in respect to the shape of the enclosure. In feeling my way I had found many angles, and thus deduced an idea of great irregularity; so potent is the effect of total darkness upon one arousing from lethargy or sleep! The angles were simply those of a few slight depressions, or niches, at odd intervals. The general shape of the prison was square. What I had taken for masonry seemed now to be iron, or some other metal, in huge plates, whose sutures or joints occasioned the depression. The entire surface of this metallic enclosure was rudely daubed in all the hideous and repulsive devices to which the charnel superstition of the monks has given rise. The figures of fiends in aspects of menace, with skeleton forms, and other more really fearful images, overspread and disfigured the walls. I observed that the outlines of these monstrosities were sufficiently distinct, but that the colors seemed faded and blurred, as if from the effects of a damp atmosphere. I now noticed the floor, too, which was of stone. In the centre yawned the circular pit from whose jaws I had escaped; but it was the only one in the dungeon.

All this I saw indistinctly and by much effort: for my personal condition had been greatly changed during slumber. I now lay upon my back, and at full length, on a species of low framework of wood. To this I was securely bound by a long strap resembling a surcingle. It passed in many convolutions about my limbs and body, leaving at liberty only my head, and my left arm to such extent that I could, by dint of much exertion, supply myself with food from an earthen dish which lay by my side on the floor. I saw, to my horror, that the pitcher had been removed. I say to my horror; for I was consumed with intolerable thirst. This thirst it appeared to be the design of my persecutors to stimulate: for the food in the dish was meat pungently seasoned.

Looking upward, I surveyed the ceiling of my prison. It was some thirty or forty feet overhead, and constructed much as the side walls. In one of its panels a very singular figure riveted my whole attention. It was the painted figure of Time as he is commonly represented, save that, in lieu of a scythe, he held what, at a casual glance, I supposed to be the pictured image of a huge pendulum such as we see on antique clocks. There was something, however, in the appearance of this machine which caused me to regard it more attentively. While I gazed directly upward at it (for its position was immediately over my own) I fancied that I saw it in motion. In an instant afterward the fancy was confirmed. Its sweep was brief, and of course slow. I watched it for some minutes, somewhat in fear, but more in wonder. Wearied at length with observing its dull movement, I turned my eyes upon the other objects in the cell.

A slight noise attracted my notice, and, looking to the floor, I saw several enormous rats traversing it. They had issued from the well, which lay just within view to my right. Even then, while I gazed, they came up in troops, hurriedly, with ravenous eyes, allured by the scent of the meat. From this it required much effort and attention to scare them away.

It might have been half an hour, perhaps even an hour, (for in cast my I could take but imperfect note of time) before I again cast my eyes upward. What I then saw confounded and amazed me. The sweep of the pendulum had increased in extent by nearly a yard. As a natural consequence, its velocity was also much greater. But what mainly disturbed me was the idea that had perceptibly descended. I now observed -- with what horror it is needless to say -- that its nether extremity was formed of a crescent of glittering steel, about a foot in length from horn to horn; the horns upward, and the under edge evidently as keen as that of a razor. Like a razor also, it seemed massy and heavy, tapering from the edge into a solid and broad structure above. It was appended to a weighty rod of brass, and the whole hissed as it swung through the air.

I could no longer doubt the doom prepared for me by monkish ingenuity in torture. My cognizance of the pit had become known to the inquisitorial agents -- the pit whose horrors had been destined for so bold a recusant as myself -- the pit, typical of hell, and regarded by rumor as the Ultima Thule of all their punishments. The plunge into this pit I had avoided by the merest of accidents, I knew that surprise, or entrapment into torment, formed an important portion of all the grotesquerie of these dungeon deaths. Having failed to fall, it was no part of the demon plan to hurl me into the abyss; and thus (there being no alternative) a different and a milder destruction awaited me. Milder! I half smiled in my agony as I thought of such application of such a term.

What boots it to tell of the long, long hours of horror more than mortal, during which I counted the rushing vibrations of the steel! Inch by inch -- line by line -- with a descent only appreciable at intervals that seemed ages -- down and still down it came! Days passed -- it might have been that many days passed -- ere it swept so closely over me as to fan me with its acrid breath. The odor of the sharp steel forced itself into my nostrils. I prayed -- I wearied heaven with my prayer for its more speedy descent. I grew frantically mad, and struggled to force myself upward against the sweep of the fearful scimitar. And then I fell suddenly calm, and lay smiling at the glittering death, as a child at some rare bauble.

There was another interval of utter insensibility; it was brief; for, upon again lapsing into life there had been no perceptible descent in the pendulum. But it might have been long; for I knew there were demons who took note of my swoon, and who could have arrested the vibration at pleasure. Upon my recovery, too, I felt very -- oh, inexpressibly sick and weak, as if through long inanition. Even amid the agonies of that period, the human nature craved food. With painful effort I outstretched my left arm as far as my bonds permitted, and took possession of the small remnant which had been spared me by the rats. As I put a portion of it within my lips, there rushed to my mind a half formed thought of joy -- of hope. Yet what business had I with hope? It was, as I say, a half formed thought -- man has many such which are never completed. I felt that it was of joy -- of hope; but felt also that it had perished in its formation. In vain I struggled to perfect -- to regain it. Long suffering had nearly annihilated all my ordinary powers of mind. I was an imbecile -- an idiot.

The vibration of the pendulum was at right angles to my length. I saw that the crescent was designed to cross the region of the heart. It would fray the serge of my robe -- it would return and repeat its operations -- again -- and again. Notwithstanding terrifically wide sweep (some thirty feet or more) and the hissing vigor of its descent, sufficient to sunder these very walls of iron, still the fraying of my robe would be all that, for several minutes, it would accomplish. And at this thought I paused. I dared not go farther than this reflection. I dwelt upon it with a pertinacity of attention -- as if, in so dwelling, I could arrest here the descent of the steel. I forced myself to ponder upon the sound of the crescent as it should pass across the garment -- upon the peculiar thrilling sensation which the friction of cloth produces on the nerves. I pondered upon all this frivolity until my teeth were on edge.

Down -- steadily down it crept. I took a frenzied pleasure in contrasting its downward with its lateral velocity. To the right -- to the left -- far and wide -- with the shriek of a damned spirit; to my heart with the stealthy pace of the tiger! I alternately laughed and howled as the one or the other idea grew predominant.

Down -- certainly, relentlessly down! It vibrated within three inches of my bosom! I struggled violently, furiously, to free my left arm. This was free only from the elbow to the hand. I could reach the latter, from the platter beside me, to my mouth, with great effort, but no farther. Could I have broken the fastenings above the elbow, I would have seized and attempted to arrest the pendulum. I might as well have attempted to arrest an avalanche!

Down -- still unceasingly -- still inevitably down! I gasped and struggled at each vibration. I shrunk convulsively at its every sweep. My eyes followed its outward or upward whirls with the eagerness of the most unmeaning despair; they closed themselves spasmodically at the descent, although death would have been a relief, oh! how unspeakable! Still I quivered in every nerve to think how slight a sinking of the machinery would precipitate that keen, glistening axe upon my bosom. It was hope that prompted the nerve to quiver -- the frame to shrink. It was hope -- the hope that triumphs on the rack -- that whispers to the death-condemned even in the dungeons of the Inquisition.

I saw that some ten or twelve vibrations would bring the steel in actual contact with my robe, and with this observation there suddenly came over my spirit all the keen, collected calmness of despair. For the first time during many hours -- or perhaps days -- I thought. It now occurred to me that the bandage, or surcingle, which enveloped me, was unique. I was tied by no separate cord. The first stroke of the razorlike crescent athwart any portion of the band, would so detach it that it might be unwound from my person by means of my left hand. But how fearful, in that case, the proximity of the steel! The result of the slightest struggle how deadly! Was it likely, moreover, that the minions of the torturer had not foreseen and provided for this possibility! Was it probable that the bandage crossed my bosom in the track of the pendulum? Dreading to find my faint, and, as it seemed, in last hope frustrated, I so far elevated my head as to obtain a distinct view of my breast. The surcingle enveloped my limbs and body close in all directions -- save in the path of the destroying crescent.

Scarcely had I dropped my head back into its original position, when there flashed upon my mind what I cannot better describe than as the unformed half of that idea of deliverance to which I have previously alluded, and of which a moiety only floated indeterminately through my brain when I raised food to my burning lips. The whole thought was now present -- feeble, scarcely sane, scarcely definite, -- but still entire. I proceeded at once, with the nervous energy of despair, to attempt its execution.

For many hours the immediate vicinity of the low framework upon which I lay, had been literally swarming with rats. They were wild, bold, ravenous; their red eyes glaring upon me as if they waited but for motionlessness on my part to make me their prey. "To what food," I thought, "have they been accustomed in the well?"

They had devoured, in spite of all my efforts to prevent them, all but a small remnant of the contents of the dish. I had fallen into an habitual see-saw, or wave of the hand about the platter: and, at length, the unconscious uniformity of the movement deprived it of effect. In their voracity the vermin frequently fastened their sharp fangs in my fingers. With the particles of the oily and spicy viand which now remained, I thoroughly rubbed the bandage wherever I could reach it; then, raising my hand from the floor, I lay breathlessly still.

At first the ravenous animals were startled and terrified at the change -- at the cessation of movement. They shrank alarmedly back; many sought the well. But this was only for a moment. I had not counted in vain upon their voracity. Observing that I remained without motion, one or two of the boldest leaped upon the frame-work, and smelt at the surcingle. This seemed the signal for a general rush. Forth from the well they hurried in fresh troops. They clung to the wood -- they overran it, and leaped in hundreds upon my person. The measured movement of the pendulum disturbed them not at all. Avoiding its strokes they busied themselves with the anointed bandage. They pressed -- they swarmed upon me in ever accumulating heaps. They writhed upon my throat; their cold lips sought my own; I was half stifled by their thronging pressure; disgust, for which the world has no name, swelled my bosom, and chilled, with a heavy clamminess, my heart. Yet one minute, and I felt that the struggle would be over. Plainly I perceived the loosening of the bandage. I knew that in more than one place it must be already severed. With a more than human resolution I lay still.

Nor had I erred in my calculations -- nor had I endured in vain. I at length felt that I was free. The surcingle hung in ribands from my body. But the stroke of the pendulum already pressed upon my bosom. It had divided the serge of the robe. It had cut through the linen beneath. Twice again it swung, and a sharp sense of pain shot through every nerve. But the moment of escape had arrived. At a wave of my hand my deliverers hurried tumultuously away. With a steady movement -- cautious, sidelong, shrinking, and slow -- I slid from the embrace of the bandage and beyond the reach of the scimitar. For the moment, at least, I was free.

Free! -- and in the grasp of the Inquisition! I had scarcely stepped from my wooden bed of horror upon the stone floor of the prison, when the motion of the hellish machine ceased and I beheld it drawn up, by some invisible force, through the ceiling. This was a lesson which I took desperately to heart. My every motion was undoubtedly watched. Free! -- I had but escaped death in one form of agony, to be delivered unto worse than death in some other. With that thought I rolled my eves nervously around on the barriers of iron that hemmed me in. Something unusual -- some change which, at first, I could not appreciate distinctly -- it was obvious, had taken place in the apartment. For many minutes of a dreamy and trembling abstraction, I busied myself in vain, unconnected conjecture. During this period, I became aware, for the first time, of the origin of the sulphurous light which illumined the cell. It proceeded from a fissure, about half an inch in width, extending entirely around the prison at the base of the walls, which thus appeared, and were, completely separated from the floor. I endeavored, but of course in vain, to look through the aperture.

As I arose from the attempt, the mystery of the alteration in the chamber broke at once upon my understanding. I have observed that, although the outlines of the figures upon the walls were sufficiently distinct, yet the colors seemed blurred and indefinite. These colors had now assumed, and were momentarily assuming, a startling and most intense brilliancy, that gave to the spectral and fiendish portraitures an aspect that might have thrilled even firmer nerves than my own. Demon eyes, of a wild and ghastly vivacity, glared upon me in a thousand directions, where none had been visible before, and gleamed with the lurid lustre of a fire that I could not force my imagination to regard as unreal.

Unreal! -- Even while I breathed there came to my nostrils the breath of the vapour of heated iron! A suffocating odour pervaded the prison! A deeper glow settled each moment in the eyes that glared at my agonies! A richer tint of crimson diffused itself over the pictured horrors of blood. I panted! I gasped for breath! There could be no doubt of the design of my tormentors -- oh! most unrelenting! oh! most demoniac of men! I shrank from the glowing metal to the centre of the cell. Amid the thought of the fiery destruction that impended, the idea of the coolness of the well came over my soul like balm. I rushed to its deadly brink. I threw my straining vision below. The glare from the enkindled roof illumined its inmost recesses. Yet, for a wild moment, did my spirit refuse to comprehend the meaning of what I saw. At length it forced -- it wrestled its way into my soul -- it burned itself in upon my shuddering reason. -- Oh! for a voice to speak! -- oh! horror! -- oh! any horror but this! With a shriek, I rushed from the margin, and buried my face in my hands -- weeping bitterly.

The heat rapidly increased, and once again I looked up, shuddering as with a fit of the ague. There had been a second change in the cell -- and now the change was obviously in the form. As before, it was in vain that I, at first, endeavoured to appreciate or understand what was taking place. But not long was I left in doubt. The Inquisitorial vengeance had been hurried by my two-fold escape, and there was to be no more dallying with the King of Terrors. The room had been square. I saw that two of its iron angles were now acute -- two, consequently, obtuse. The fearful difference quickly increased with a low rumbling or moaning sound. In an instant the apartment had shifted its form into that of a lozenge. But the alteration stopped not here-I neither hoped nor desired it to stop. I could have clasped the red walls to my bosom as a garment of eternal peace. "Death," I said, "any death but that of the pit!" Fool! might I have not known that into the pit it was the object of the burning iron to urge me? Could I resist its glow? or, if even that, could I withstand its pressure And now, flatter and flatter grew the lozenge, with a rapidity that left me no time for contemplation. Its centre, and of course, its greatest width, came just over the yawning gulf. I shrank back -- but the closing walls pressed me resistlessly onward. At length for my seared and writhing body there was no longer an inch of foothold on the firm floor of the prison. I struggled no more, but the agony of my soul found vent in one loud, long, and final scream of despair. I felt that I tottered upon the brink -- I averted my eyes --

There was a discordant hum of human voices! There was a loud blast as of many trumpets! There was a harsh grating as of a thousand thunders! The fiery walls rushed back! An outstretched arm caught my own as I fell, fainting, into the abyss. It was that of General Lasalle. The French army had entered Toledo. The Inquisition was in the hands of its enemies.