The blog has not gone.
Quiet. Writer. Preoccupied.
My creative periods come in spurts, between bouts of symptoms.
My book is my focus. I am writing my calling card.
In this moment, between symptoms, I can be intensely productive.
I am on disability. But, I no longer believe my condition should hold me back.
My book, if she sells, will be evidence I can earn my own keep.
Silence is the foundation on which all noise is built.
Sacred Space.
Within, I work.
I have been quiet the better part of a week. Possibly, the best week of my life, in many ways.
Since my previous post, I have been in wheel-chair prescription-limbo.
It’s bizarre. How strange our worlds?
Become, when insurance enters our lives.
It’s not my control. It’s shared control.
In order to gain control, I have to learn how insurance companies think. It’s what I imagine before.
The alien, suddenly, in my dreams.
And this has been possibly the best week of my life, because, for the rest of it, I have only been writing, and meditating on my manuscript. I am now in full book-writing mode.
Beam me up, Spock.
To a heavenly place.
Each day, when I begin to type.
Thoughts. Not my own.
I have received multiple invites to watch today’s debate between Bill Nye, The Science Guy, and Ken Ham.
One of the hams on stage is a creationist. The other will represent evolution. In a theatrical form.
Symbolically, we get to choose. Which one is right?
But, I won’t tune in, until it has cured a few weeks, on a hook in the meat closet. Away from the flies.
Right now I don’t want to watch it at all. Because, I know which side is right.
Neither! The reason we have these silly debates is because we aren’t able to move beyond our differences. I want to talk about how we can.
*****
I have been waiting for the right moment to elevate the content of my blog. Today seems perfect, for a couple reasons.
One. I am more lucid to-day, than any other, these past couple weeks. And when I am lucid, my thoughts drift to the big questions we all struggle with. God, or no. Life, and the before-after sandwich we call the spiritual. And, consciousness.
Also. Two.
There’s a reason for switching my voice, that allows me to discuss why my voice has changed. It’s not puberty! Just so no one is confused.
Voices change with thoughts.
The Ham-Nye debate somehow represents my own thoughts, and my blog. How opportune!
So onwards from here. Some days I will share my thoughts about God. Others, I will think about the mind. And still others, I will pull lint from my navel. But, it’s all related. Trust me.
At least now, hopefully I can launch directly into discussions of my beliefs about God, without feeling self-conscious doing so.
*****
You may have noticed that my writing often seems focused on ordinary things. The useless riffraff, left from otherwise forgettable days. And, yet, today, I am switching to the topics of God, and death, and understanding. Even if, only my own.
But, my ordinary days are always related to the special, now that I pay attention. I write about the ordinary so that I can draw on those experiences when discussing the extra-ordinary. So, when you read about my day shopping for a wheel chair, or another spent dealing with the insurance company that cut off my disability payments, it’s because my ordinary experiences have some meaning for me. And, I want to convey meaning through my writing. But, I can only do so through the trial and error of everyday attempts.
I want you to see me for who I am. I am sometimes neurotic. And, I guess that makes me human. And if you can see me as human, then you can read my thoughts without being offended. And believe me. Some of my thoughts will offend. It’s why I don’t discuss them lightly.
*****
Here are some rules that might help clarify my posts regarding God, and no gods, and religion. My first on the topic, but by no means, my last.
*****
I believe we can only understand properly through other points-of-view. This is not a place where one of us is right and the others are wrong. Common understanding comes through mutual understanding. We each embody something the other needs. And truth is never perceived directly. Nor is it claimed as a battlefield prize.
This blog is not where you capitulate to me, or visa versa, unless one of us is seriously wrong. This blog is where believers and atheists are welcome to commune. I do believe a common understanding is possible, and that belief vs. non-belief is the wrong way to approach the subject.
Sure, it’s necessary for some people from each persuasion to duke it. But, that’s only because they symbolize what we all struggle with. And their fight is the topic of our discussion. It’s the human way to understand.
The monkey way. The tribal way.
At least, it’s my way.
Last night I went to dinner three friends. They were arguing that my belief, insurance companies are populated with human beings, is wrong. And, I failed to ask them. But I should.
Have they enjoyed their segment of conspiratorial thought?
How else could I justify my opinion? I haven’t had any actual experiences to back up my belief.
Their voices swirled in my head as I lay myself to sleep. I had become fearful.
Probably wasn’t thinking as much as feeling. Subterranean embers still glowed deep beneath the cool of the evening crust.
Bad experiences remembered. Insurance stories related. Wrapped in a pleasant visit.
So, who’s crazy? Me? Or the three of them? I guess we will see which of these two notions crystalizes in the coming weeks.
This is my first fearful experience with an insurance company. Fearful, because my survival depends on it. Or, at least, the quality it all.
And yet. People do survive for a time in the gutter. Who says I couldn’t?
Besides my common sense?
And which opinion is true? The one based in fear? Or the one built firmly on the calmness of knowing?
I am right. This is an epistemology course for disabled people fighting insurance industry brutality.
Brutality? First person?
Present! Because fighting this burns. My daily allotment of fuel for focused mental energy has shrunk quite small.
Don’t know if my tiny budget for laser thinking is a brake on my mind, or my body, or both. It could be any combination of the three.
Keep positive. Gonna need it.
If my friends are right. And because life is more enjoyable not dragging baggage everywhere.
Four and-a-half years ago I pulled a trailer of cargo on my bike to a writing retreat.
In Tucson. End of May, the temps hover somewhere above that third digit.
One hundred miles. One day. That was easier then.
Because. Retaining bad emotions exhaust me now. Is this physical? Or an enlightened state just before sleep?
Last night before sleep I was one. Against three. Both times in our thoughts.
The insurance industry and God. Three believers and one form of dissent. A good conversation. And, an effective segue for next time.
God.
Well. That’s it. My budget spent. I won’t work on my letter to the un-named insurance company. Appealing their decision to stop paying my disability allowance. Instead, I need.
Rest.
The Atheist Who Believes in God 