The Deeper One Goes, the More Penetrating is the Response

Wednesday Prompt: What doubts do I currently have? My initial thought was I am full of confidence and certainty I’m not going to be able to fulfill this prompt; then I realized that if I were sitting in a group therapy session and heard that, the therapist would see my INTP BS detector going off and with a look out of the corner of her eye signal me to let it rip….

I knew that our 𝘋𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘢 𝘊. would not pose a prompt that could be dismissed at the surface so I started to dig down, aided by my one of my favorite cave-diving tools, a massive and detailed dictionary far surpassing my expectations based upon the yard-sale-like inventory in my VRBO-chrysalis,

including, I kid you not, books discarded by the local library over 40 years ago, and, wait for it, wait for it — actually this find-of-a-lifetime really needs a picture to bring home the absurdity:

So, where was I, oh yes, armed with my dictionary I began my dive and sure enough doubts of various sizes, masses and densities revealed themselves.

Some time in the last few days, I began an essay….LOL….mid keystroke another doubt revealed: I am inclined to write “I began an essay thus:” which is definitionally and gramatically correct; as is, “I began an essay in this following way,” but ‘writing for the reader’ as I often see in submission guidelines would be “I began the essay in this way.” It’s simple and understandable yet incorrect. That I cannot do.

I got it.

Within the last few days, I began an essay by raising the following connundrum:

I have found that starting with a title, even if it’s acknowledged as a working title, often blocks my artistic process. Is that the result of: A) my conscious INTP mind being undisciplined? B) soul deciding on and steering us towards an essay quite different than Greg set out to write? C) Is Gregorius free-diving? D) Are none of of us in control of the process — is the essay alive and at the control board calling upon the various split screens and thereby writing itself, i.e., is there a part of the brain that functions as if it were a distinct and oxymoronic organic-artificial-intelligence? E) All of the above? F) 🤷

“F” certainly demonstrates that I have doubts about how my mind works, which fits two definitions out of seven (definitions II(2) and II(3)).

Pet peeve: That the word doubt has seven definitions begins to illustrate how poorly English performs the task of language — that being accurate communication. Love has eighteen definitions, whereas ancient greek has at least five distinct words for the different definitions of love.

All right, enough shenaniggans —the subject matter of everything I have submitted so far to our esteemed publication has been heavy and deeply emotional. I arrived in New Hampshire with doubts about the breadth of my writing. I arrived knowing I write well, yet with doubts about whether I AM A WRITER. This afternoon I discerned with conviction that not only am I a writer, I am a writer who loves writing — I am a writer who loves thinking — thinking deeply about the subject matter with an eye to presenting original insights. I had doubts about whether I was typecasting myself. I am dispelling those doubts within the four corners of these pages. I purposely took Diana’s deep prompt and repurposed it, just for a while, into something silly yet still revealing, knowing that the doubt-lane would converge with last Thursdays prompt to go deeper still than one has gone before. I had doubts about whether I could ever write poetry, let alone two Haiku’s being my first two poems. Haiku #1 I wrote two nights ago for Sitara and submitted it to Spiritual Secrets with my request to join that staff as well. It’s been nearly 48 hours so, Mr. Nonconformist is going to bend the rules a bit — SR does not accept works published elsewhere, but quoting as a reference to establish my breadth is not publishing.

Haiku #2 I wrote this afternoon when I decided who I am, including revealing my full name (it’s awaiting publication by Diana — it’s published now):

While I am nonconformist, I do like traditional / vintage style (Bespoke suits and I tie a great bow-tie)(classic cars and stick shifts); and I like a challenge, so even though I read that contemporary poets stray from the 5/7/5, I have not.

Another definition of doubt is uncertainty. Personally I would not use doubt for uncertain outcome because doubt carries negative connotations and I welcome the uncertainty with unbridled optimism. I know that I am a writer but I do not know that I will be able to support myself, my children and my ex-wife as a writer. But I suspect that I will, or that whatever I do will have writing as a substantial component.

Romance. There is much uncertainty here, but, I no longer care. My sister worries that my relationsip with LinStara (I know I keep changing her name — LinStara is to Lindsey and Sitara what Gregorius is to Greg and Marcus) will preclude me having the happily ever after here on Earth in this life cycle. I do not share that concern because if it doesn’t happen I will neither be lonely nor disappointed; I believe LinStara may cause it to happen when the right woman is revealed; I actually have a gut feeling of who she is but I do not even know if she is available. I wonder if she reads the same energies that I do. Another doubt is what to do with respect to that — I am a huge believer in making myself vulnerable — love blossoms out of vulnerability, not chauvenism. The timing is not right yet for at least a few months; for certain I will have to have my chat with Mother Aya first.

Only about 1060 words and 5 minutes so far — let’s go deeper. I love deep; getting there slowly with penetrating determination and taking my time to fully explore all parts of the cavern.

I am more certain than ever that Shamanistic healing will clear every addiction demon from my chakras and that final and complete integration of Greg and Marcus into Gregorius will ensue. The idea popped out of my subconscious one day in the last couple months when I read both Patrick Paul Garlinger’s piece on it and that Brian Pennie had done it for that specific purpose. Yesterday another synchronicity revealed itself — PPG and I are both NYU Law alums. Last week he was kind of enough to share with me the link to where he went in the amazon. Think now is the time to open it….BRB…ok I emailed the place — cross the where-uncertainty off the list.

Here’s a deep one. Probably the deepest other than will my mommy and I ever get this back:

Why do I bear the mark of Cain? What is its signifigance to my life’s purpose. This is an excerpt of an essay I wrote in May or June. The full piece is here.

It appeared in Latency, of that much I am sure, but when did I first notice it — late Latency? Early puberty? I remember thinking how odd — do I have a birthmark that I hadn’t noticed or is this discoloration some random occurrence? Anyway, I didn’t care much, actually I could not have cared less, and when anyone asked me about they assumed to be a burn scar of sorts, I would say it’s a birthmark, which I decided it was, sometimes with a well-timed flip of the bird. Which as you will learn, was the last of several arrows aimed by The Hunter from various places, times and distances converging on a fixed point in time and space; that being my Heart, barely if at all starting to heal from the loss, now a new and unknown cluster of pain pockets hiding deep within, where only Love should reside. Once my unconscious mind was pierced by Orion’s keen eye, memory of an elephant, and intuition, split screens kept appearing wherever there had been an inconsistency until it all fell into place. Do not fret. While the walls holding back the pain need to crumble from my screams, like the walls of Jericho felled by the gutturally primal shrills of 1,000’s of shofars, and even though from a great height I may fall, Humpty Dumpty I am not, and with A Little Help from my Friends and Loved ones, I shall be upright in no time at all.

I have made a decision not to burden you all and stain your souls by me imposing what I have uncovered about the whys and the why behind the whys that lead to the sad Portrait of this Artist as a Young Man. If anyone wants to know, I will share as much or as little as needed to quench any thirst you may have for the Truth and hope that you can stomach the journey into the Heart of Darkness. The lies, the lies, the lies. The layered manipulations of everyone he touches. The horror, the horror, the horror.

Several days ago, when Part I streamed easily out of my subconscious, I patted myself on the back for what I had uncovered. The process by which I discerned that my odd mark was my mark of Cain, is interesting and generally instructive on the interpretation of coincidences, which will be the subject matter of another essay. The meaning of the mark, both generally and to me, which is discussed in what were three paragraphs following this, are now relegated to a lengthy footnote, because that which I thought was so important, the revelation of the specifics of the damage purposely inflicted upon me, I realize now, much to my surprise, barely has any relevance.

So what is the “Mark of Cain?” “Literally,” it is the mark that the bible says God placed on Cain’s forehead so that he and his family would be known in the land to which they were banished. Known for what, and why? There are of course different interpretations, and I of course shall relate the one posited by Hermann Hesse in Demian, the book that found me at Harris’ suggestion, and of which I still have not read the last chapter, but in an ode to my dear departed father, I read the last few pages the other night, and now I get the overarching point of the book — any answer we need, and all the strength and wisdom one needs to handle any situation, lies within us if one knows how to access them.

Demian’s interpretation is that the mark identifies the bearer as a person of great courage who has known both good and evil, and that, essentially, and perhaps this is my twist, this person is now under the protection of angels and messengers and spirit guides, and try as you might to harm the so-marked, while you may surely cause pain, the result will be Divine. Oft quoted is: “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” I tell you that moreover, Darkness cannot extinguish Light; Love is stronger than Evil. I am living proof.

How did I discern my mark? See this essay that does not blend well here.

Here are two links to a very informative YouTube broadcast, a full version and and a snippet that discusses that those who have the mark are destined to transcend good and evil and can become whomever they want. Until Mother Aya, this shall loom as THE UNCERTAINTY.

Time to choose a title. Also, I’d love to hear how you would have titled it.

I think I’ve forgotten a few sections I was going to write on, but they can wait. I feel this essay is finished (never say done — Turkey’s are done — people finish — Mrs. Espo, 3rd Grade teacher).