Grief until dreamtime

Angus wakes me up around eight so he can go out and take care of business. He does not like to be late. Only uses the kitty litter as a last resort. I am the same way. Finally manage to drag myself out of my Big Agnes cocoon of a sleeping bag. Drive up to the estate. Begin the last preparations for the retreat. Once everything is done I take off to Farmer and Cook for my lunch break. When my mood is sour, it does not take a trained psychologist to know it. There's a ton of people there even though it is after two. I sit with a couple girls I know. One of them tries to console me and play counselor. She's sincere and all that but her words of advice seem trite to me. I go along as to not spread my dis ease and accept her position with out voicing my cynical responses. It's funny I guess, but sometimes when you're in a foul mood, people that are all happy just make you feel worse. I think it's the contrast or something. She brought up the "What the Bleep" movie and said: "Remember when you have negative thoughts you keep spreading them and they inluence where you go and what happens next and it just keeps going." I totally know all this and kind of resent the whole spontaneous therapy session/pity party. Honestly, I'd have just sat alone if there'd been any emty tables. Ohh well, eat fast, take off, get on with it.

Melissa says"Just breathe... oh yeah you know how to breathe."

Lisa: "Yeah, you play the didj, you're an expert."

I say nothing, just keep eating with my head down. I guess my body language must be pretty pathetic or something. When I say goodbye, Lisa gives me a strong hug: "I love you Didj, your and amazing person."

"I wish that was true. I love you too... see you later Melissa"

Finally I finish and take off in the Skip mobile. As I head up Foothill Rd, I scan my face for frowns, yep there's one there, plastered on my face. I consciously try to smile, thinking: "All these folks are arriving, gotta look happy." It works for a few seconds but soon I slip back into the pathetic mask of doom. Sorry every body.

So, I just stay in my car reading Gabriel Marquez's Strange Pilgrims, a book of short stories. I love the way he writes, the way the words flow, the way he describes people, places and things. His metaphors are always surprising and poigniant. I watch as everyone start pulling down the gravel driveway and parking. It's always the same they drive down, make a left, pause, look around, see what the other cars are doing and then park. I only had to say something to one or two drivers. This allowed me to read 3 stories, cool.

As dusk approaches, it becomes time for me to start turning on lights and checking on fires burning in the house. Turts out they want to use the kiva down below. This means I have to fill up 4 or 5 tiki torches, gather a bunch of wood, grab candles, repair some damage in the kiva and sweep it up so that it is presentable.

I rush thru this so that I can make it to my appointment with Sunny. She's supposed to give me a treatment for my TMJ - which by the way, seems to have receded completely. Well, her "moon" has hung around longer than expected. So instead of getting some relief, she gives me grief. Rehashing a bunch of delusions from the past. I walk out the door while she continues to go on the attack. Too bad it is so hard for some people to just say sorry. I guess it is just too easy to go on the attack. In the end I just feel compassion for this glaring weakness. It leads to so much unnecessary suffering. My solution is to just stay away. It was so absurd that it was funny and I found myself laughing because, Lisa's earlier references to "What the Bleep" proved to be foreshadowing. I had not seen this vicious side of Sunny for so long but it is still there - much less psychotic though. Looking back I could see it all leading up to this. Hindsight is twenty twenty..

Back up on the estate. Ahhh... feels good to be back up here. Dinner's just about ready. Caspar's good mood seems to seep into me a little bit and he makes me laugh. He's from Holland. Maybe that's why it is easier for me to feel connected to him. Europeans seem to have an easier time accepting people. They don't feel compelled to make a judgement on some one else's mood. They see it accept it and contiue. There's no stigmatising this way. The feeling is able to take its natural course and then move on... change into something else.

Tom asks me to play in the kiva. I agree. Bill mentions that Tom wants me to play the didj in the kiva. I agree. Earlier, it did not seem likely that I'd play. "Yeah, who wants to here me play? These guys could care less." Then when Tom asks me, I'm like sure, what the heck.

I head down there around 8:20. Stoke the fire, add some wood, start playing. Time passes. Phone rings. This number comes up on my screen: 571-522-1180. I answer. It's a computer asking me if I am a registered voter. Hang up immediateley. Huh? what the heck?! Am I gonna start getting that bs on my cell phone? Heads are gonna roll if this becomes more common. Play some more and then Sunny calls. What do you think she wants to give me? Relief or grief? If you said grief than you get the cigar. She slings some more mud and then hangs up while my reply is in mid sentence. Audiose.

I play some more and then just when I'm about to vamoose, I see flashlights shining on the stone wall and hear voices of city folk making their way along the path. I start playing while the kiva fills up with LA yogis. They talk excitedly, laugh loudly and almost drown out the music coming out of my didj. While playing, I think that no one is listening. I keep on playing anyway. It seems like 3 or 4 people are enjoying it. After 15 minutes I stop and talk with a few of the guest. Someone asks me to start playing again. I think it was Caspar. He comes over and sits next to me. He's beaming and his positive energy is contagious. He's so genuine and good hearted. I play for another 15 minutes, stop, start talking to someone. Then this guy Adam asks me to play some more. "Wow," I think to myself, "I thought no one gave a shit." So I play for another 20 minutes before stopping for the night. Afterwards, I soak in the collective vibe. It seems totally changed. It's like everyone is on a different frequecy now. I have become visible to them. Hmm... I guess that's what happens when I create a little dreamtime for people to jump into. Interestingly enough, it is I who really feels different. The black cloud hanging over my psyche, burned away by the didj... cool.