Tuesday, May 13, 2008

The Immaculate Conception of Words

The years are too quickly slipping by and it is less and less often that I wake up feeling like a ‘humanoid’. And by that, I mean waking up in the pre-dawn with all body parts responding to my will without cramp or pain. It happens rarely, but when it does, I stride resolutely to the kitchen in my nightgown, seat myself at the table, and gaze out the open window.

And if the conditions are right, that is to say:
if there is mist on the meadow,
if the woods are only delicately back-lit by the morning sun,
if the freshness of the night and the dampness of the dew still lingers,
if the morning psalm-song of a bird is still echoing, and
if the occupants of this house, (Hub and the 3 dogs), are still soundly slumbering – something in the vaporous aura of all that I have stated reaches inside of me and transports the spiritual part of me to another place.

And if I were to attempt to tell you about that place without the benefit of the mutterings of a ‘medium’, I would have to say that the natives there are rather quirky mentor-spirits of mind and soul and heart. Quirky, because their fraternity is closed to only one ‘awareness’ at a time, like a critical ward in a hospital that imposes the rule that at any given time, there can be no more than one visitor.

Because we are friends, you might suggest that I should disregard that rule, and take you along, but I can’t. The natives have the place surrounded and fortified by a mushroom cloud that quickly dissolves the place when there is the slightest inkling that I might be bringing a companion. So when Hub awakes, or when there is the slightest stir of other awareness, canine or human, my trips are canceled. So in truth, all I can tell you is ‘Sorry Folks, I can’t take you by the hand and bring you along. I must go alone.’

But nevertheless, despite the insecurity that pains me when I am forced to travel alone, I value these trips and truly feel over-privileged on those rare occasions when I am allowed to go there.

Other times I wonder, ‘Could this destination be the same place that so many people escape to when they relate the feeling of having temporarily left their bodies during a critical moment of severe physical trauma?’ It too is a spiritual place where those who have visited and haply returned say that while there they felt torn by an urgency to leave and a beckoning to stay. In this there is an obvious parallel, cause that’s exactly how I feel.

Still, despite this apprehension about leaving or staying, while there I luxuriate in warm friendship and one other confidence. I know that when I leave, I will leave with heart and soul refreshed.

And in addition to that, I will have a new level of inspiration for my writing. Back home, at the kitchen table, I will gaily sit down near the window at the table and magical words will form and flow onto paper that I have not consciously framed or even contemplated.

Words formed by the first instance of their creation as an immaculate conception.
____

Unfortunately, I think access to the exclusive symposium we have discussed here comes as an add-on to what I am tempted to call ‘The Elder Advantage’. I say that because I have only been given visitation rights in the last few years.

Seems I had to first cleanly separate myself from a lifetime of superlative desires for fashion, wealth, popularity, and power before I could go there. And of course, with the ‘one visitor at a time’ rule, I can’t tell you for certain if there are any younger members.

6 comments:

Pauline said...

you've just described the place where I go when I do what my teachers used to call, "spacing out."

Roberta S said...

Hi pauline. You've given the place a different designation, but sounds like the same value village that I go to.

Matty said...

Roberta,
I have a special place as well that I go to when I want to get away from life as I know it. There I am ageless, full of energy and at peace.
It is verboten to talk about your special place...it's yours alone and you don't need a reservation. When I leave my special place...I'm a much nicer person...calmer, kinder, more patient and loving. Lately I've been visiting that place more often than usual...and it never fails to amaze me.

Roberta S said...

matty, your description of your special place is touching. You honor it in so many ways that I failed to mention. Thanks for commenting.

S L Cunningham said...

Poignant, and expressive of voice. I liked your opening paragraph, especially with how it frames the context of what your essay is about.

Roberta S said...

Welcome, S.L. I truly am flattered that as an English teacher you approved of the construction of my story.

I have been to your place and read your last post about Cyclones, (etc.) and grackle birds. What a great story.