Posted by: estheramy | July 18, 2012

Love Eternally

Just a few minutes ago, Esther, I was so much in a trance that I tried to write with my scalloped melon spoon, instead of my silver pen!  My pen is exactly the same length and weight  as the spoon so it’s  understandable.  A bee is buzzing around my light green melon from the Canary Islands; I’ll share my melon with “her.” And, she won’t sting me, just as if you/one feed a squirrel, “he-she” won’t bite you. The melon is smelling so tantalizing I can’t resist any longer.  Again, “When you don’t know the difference between pleasure and pain, you’re a masochist.”  I should check the source; I always mix up two things, I suppose because  I’m a Gemini.

“The subconscious”  Dr. “S” said in session last time I saw him when I had shown him the exact three pictures as I had during the previous session.  Randomly, I thought.  I had showed him two pictures of us together and the photo of the “psychic” who was talking to me in front of the bicycle stand–while you were wheeling around on your rental bike.  I’d loved the sparkling cobalt (bright blue) color of the bike that was offered to me by the rental agents, but when I tried to ride it, remember? the gears were stuck–  Gears are frequently stuck for moi, a metaphor?  One that no longer applies since our journey to Abadiania.

The spontaneous psychic reading I had was the best psychic reading I’ve ever had.  FYI, the “psychic”–or whoever he was, was channeling a stream of words abt. mother/daughter relationships w.o. my having said a single word to him about us.

“Psychic” and Amy

Without any initiation on my part, the psychic told me that I was experiencing a disturbance in the lower portion of my spine and that a disturbance at that site, in the lower chakra area is indicative of a disturbance in the mother/daughter relationship.

I just glanced at my squirrel, the one our neighbor across the street tamed by feeding him.  He-she (!) is looking to pilfer all the mailing envelopes (that contain packing material) for his nest, up in the tree yonder.

Going back to my session with Dr. “S” he asked me, “Do you realize that you showed me those exact three pictures during our last session?” I said, “No, I didn’t realize that. Really?  Out of all those pictures?” (Because I keep shuffling them, Esther, like a deck of cards.)

The subconscious,” he murmured, and he never has said that when I’ve spoken to him.  I think he was suggesting that the photos of you and I (me) together are by far (by close 🙂  the most important photos to me (moi) of all the photos.  Last night, before bed, I was looking at the two similar photos of close ups of your face–one was light, and the other was dark,  and thinking I would go to Walgreens today to have those two photos enlarged.

Esther at Casa

I am thinking now, as I stand writing, that I’ve discovered since our return from Abadiania that I haven’t always known the difference between healing and suffering.  I think it’s not so much masochism, sometimes, but the necessity to wait.  Like right now, as I’m “streaming” and eyeing the melon, sweat drops like tears misting my glasses–it’s not that I’m starving and depriving myself of melon; it’s that I need to impose some discipline on myself so that I can write a piece that’s hopefully worthy of publication.

I will continue working on my writing and working on not feeling blusey when I am alone after being with you or somebody else.  You are so good at not being clingy; I wonder who you learned that from.  Probably from charging off to day when I had to leave you at the J.C.C. in St. Louis.  Remember the smell of cinnamon toast as we entered the building?  Yum!

I have to go inside now for more paper, inside the house–not  “inside myself.”   Then, I’m going to have breakfast, out here on the deck that GB said is like the prow of a ship–and she’s right, except that instead of facing the ocean, the “prow” is facing traffic, on Touhy Ave!

I hope thee and me can take a cruise some day or go on another spiritual journey like the lady from Australia does.  To Lourdes, and spiritual pilgrimages all over the world.

Before I go inside to type today’s blog (hoping I haven’t left any loose ends) I want to mention that I try to use the Casa as a template for my life here in West Rogers Park:  fresh fruit for breakfast (today, melon from the Canary Islands, Danish Havarti cheese (“smooth, mellow, buttery cheese that pairs well with Bordeaux and Chardonnay”)  “Har! Har! Har!” says Laughing Buddha; because as you know, we’re advised against drinking alcohol when taking our prescriptions for Passiflora; why wasn’t the one at Buddha for sale? Because the owners loved having a Laughing Buddha to make life light as the glow I see now on my computer screen–“Mac’s” face…..

The cheese is sweating and so am I.  The cellophane packaging is the exact beautiful blue as the bicycle, and the cheese is the color of the sun.

Possibly the system of reward and punishment described in “I Never Promised You A Rose Garden” is a system we impose upon ourselves, rather than coming from a higher world or lower world of reward and punishment.  Possibly, the exact point of the book, a point I might have missed when I read the book at U of I sometime between 1966 and 1968.

END of July 17th…

Love Eternally,

Amy

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