A Matter of Soul

Today is the Chinese New Year.  This year is the Year of the Dog.

I haven't told many people about this but the entire reason I went to live in Asia for three years was because of a vision.  I saw a Foo Dog as bright as a projected image on a screen.  I was wide awake.

In my vision, he was emerald green and facing to the right.  He was brilliant and ferocious.  Stunning.

He hung around for a few seconds and faded away.  That's how I knew I had to get to Asia.

Foo Dogs are guardians.  They are most often seen at the front of buildings, one female and one male, protecting the building from negative spirits and emotions. 

The cycle has come around again.  Three days ago, I was wondering about my spirit animal.  Two days ago, I was drawn Tarot Card reading, pulling cards for friends at their request.  These cards I pulled were incredibly accurate and nothing about them was vague.

I just knew.

Today is the Chinese New Year.

Somebody is trying to tell me something and I just don't know what.  It's maddening sometimes because I don't believe in coincidences.  I just don't.  I've seen too much shit and too many fucked up things to believe in randomness.

It's 3:10 AM and I can't sleep.  Again.  Withdrawals are a bitch.  My legs are twitching and I keep getting cold chills that get me to the bone.  Then my skin starts to burn.  My body can't get comfortable.

I'm fighting this monster with everything I have and I'm winning.  It's been a long, hard road, but I'm winning.

It's a matter of soul.  All of this life is, really.  Everything I've done in this life has been dictated by how I view my soul, and the path it is supposed to take, or be on.  Maybe that's why I fall for women so hard.  For me, it's not just about having fun.  None of this is.  Life is serious business to me and always has been.

That mindset goes against just about everybody else's outlook on life.  I can't help it, though, because I was born serious.  I've been around the block too many fucking times and I've had too many lives and my soul is too fucking old for games.  Believe me--I wish I could lighten the fuck up.  I have no idea how.

I've been angry and agitated all day today.  Every little thing is pissing me off and I've snapped on more than a couple of people.  I've had to keep my distance from others because I don't want to shit on them.

Maybe I need a pair of foo dogs to block out the negative spirits.

My apartment has been too quiet these past few months.  I'm no longer being woken up at 3:33AM like I was for so long.  Things aren't moving around my apartment at night.  I haven't had a single appliance turn itself on and off in almost a year.  I haven't heard the harbingers laughing and chatting amongst themselves in almost as long.

I miss it.  I dearly miss the feeling of having somebody watch me or standing behind me.  It's too quiet and it bugs me.  A few months ago, something pulled my hair from behind.  I was sitting at my computer and somebody gave my ponytail a tug.  But those days are gone for now and it bothers me.  I feel abandoned and left behind.

Again.

I swear I'm the only guy in the world who misses his ghosts.

Next week, I start a new job.  I get the equipment on Monday, on Thursday we do the pre-flight stuff to make sure it's all connected right, and the Monday after that training begins.  I still haven't gotten my unemployment because the State of Illinois is broke and drags its feet anytime it has to pay somebody.

So I do what I can to avoid losing my mind.  It hasn't been easy.  I can't write for some reason.  I try and my brain short-circuits every time.  It's annoying.

But now something is changing.  I can feel it.  Something spiritual is happening.  The Universe is moving at all times and I can feel its focus on me.  I'm either being put in play or aligned for something.  I can feel it.

When I say "aligned" that usually means a big foot is getting ready to kick me like a football through a goal post.  I'll end up with a big boot print on my ass a long distance from where I was.  It'll be chaos and will hurt like hell while I'm tumbling through the air but the landing is usually soft but confusing for a while.  "How did I end up here?  Where am I?"

That sort of thing.

But there's a problem with living your life with faith The Universe (or some asshole deity) is going to watch your back.  Sometimes, the answer to your prayers is "Go fuck yourself" and sometimes you will get dropped on your head.  I've been dropped on my head a few times and having any faith whatsoever feels like being a codependent victim in an abusive relationship.

When you're an abused person in a relationship, you make excuses for the abuser, and say things like, "they did it because they love me" or "they know better than I do."  People make the same excuses for Gods.

"God knows best" or "God did this because he loves me."

Abuse by any other name is still abuse.

So I don't go by faith.  Instead, I look for paths, being mindful of opportunities as they present themselves.  A soulful path through life is much better than being pushed and shoved around by somebody who sees you more as a mindless chess piece.  I'm a person, not a function. 

I'm getting really agitated right now I'm going to wrap this up.  I feel like my skin is crawling and I want to tear it off, or slice it off, just so I can get out of it.  I'm sweating but cold and I have the urge to shave my head but I wish I had hair down to my butt.  It's like that all the time these days, too.  Like I want to scream but I just don't have the energy for it.  Everything everybody says is stupid and wrong but I don't feel like correcting them because it just won't work.  Nobody cares about any opinion but their own so I just ignore them. 

It's probably too late to put up a pair of foo dogs anyways.  The damage has already been done and now it's just a matter of time.  

Et Serpentes Incipiunt Cantus

When I was an English as a Second Language (ESL) teacher in Korea, I taught the kids the "pull my finger" game, and it didn't go so well.  They kept pulling their own fingers and trying to make themselves fart.  It was something lost in translation and no matter what, I just couldn't teach that game, but oh I tried.

It's the curse of language.  Writers will always try to get a message across and half the time it's muddled up in convoluted wording.

I've been a wreck this past week.  For a guy as lucky has I've been you would think I'd have learned gratitude and all of those other noble attitudes but no.

I'm going to say this right here--I'm the luckiest fucking guy on the planet right now.  I've got people watching my back and helping me through some seriously arduous times.

To give you an idea of just how lucky I am, my car died.  Bad enough, but my neighbor pulled apart the motor to replace the head gasket, which isn't an easy task.  I've never done that kind of work before but he does it for a living.  So, work all day, come home, and do your job for somebody else.

After all of that and putting the motor back together, he figured out my heads were warped, and that's why the gasket failed.  My car was a dead horse.

But wait!

He finds a guy who just happens to have a car that runs but needs work and he gives it to him.  Free.  Along with the replacement part it needs.

So, my neighbor, in the dead of winter, in between working full-time hours, puts this car on a trailer, drags it back here, and fixes it.

Once we get the car off the trailer, drive it, and check some things he hands me the keys and says, "how do you like your car?"

When was the last time anybody has done that for you?

But it gets better.

Somebody sent me a prepaid Visa gift card out of the kindness of their heart because they knew the State of Illinois was screwing me on my unemployment.  I didn't ask and they offered because they knew things were tight.

I have people watching out for me.  I have people helping me.  The universe, the Powers That Be, are taking good care of me right now.

I even got a short story submitted.  This story was commented on by some amazing people and I used their notes to make it awesome.  I'm certain the place I submitted it to will be kind when they reject it.  I'm afraid of being more optimistic than that, lest I curse myself, and make things even worse. 

What's the difference between now and then?

I asked the universe for help.  And I did it in plain English with simple words.  I was careful so nothing was lost in translation.

A couple of months ago, I stood in my apartment at 2:00 AM, shaking and shivering, twitching, chilled but my skin was on fire, and unable to sit because my legs had ants crawling in my muscles.  I made my intentions clear.

A soul can scream out into the ether if the will behind it is strong enough.  And I was so very tired of the bullshit.  That always simplifies language.

"I need help!"

I was done.  I was done with a lot of the bullshit in my life.  I was done with how things were going.  I was done with the choices I'd made and I was working on cleaning up a very large mess.

When you put that sort of message out into the universe, and you drive it out with the force of iron will, it resonates.  It makes things very clear to anybody who is listening.  The Powers that Be, the Gods, or whatever you believe in, and they will respond.  That's when it gets ugly.

In the past few weeks, I've gotten knocked around a bunch.  Choices have been made for me, things have ended I would have preferred to keep going, and people have entered my life who are incredible.  They say you don't want to see sausage or laws being made and when you ask the Universe for help, it's the same way.  It's ugly and brutal.

But it's right.

This feels right.  I feel like I'm on the right path.  It's been a long, hard road, but I know it's the right one.  For the first time in a very long time, I can honestly say I'm headed in the right direction, and not be full of shit when I say it.  I don't have to lie to myself and I don't have to lie to anybody else.

When you put that sort of message out there into the Universe, things change in ways you never imagined, like opportunities.  Nothing gets done for you but the way is clear for you to bury your shoulder and drive with your legs forward into the unknown.  Keep your head up and feet moving, Bubba--don't stop until the ref blows the whistle.

I know not to mess with the Universe too much.  Simple questions, simple needs.  This is why I'm alone.  I can't imagine the horror of dragging somebody else along for the ride through this roller coaster that went off the rails a long time ago.

Once again, I'm lucky.

I'd feel horribly guilty if I had somebody who made me a priority in their life as I dragged them through this hell-ride with me.  It's better to be on my own for this.  Sure, hugs are nice, but knowing you're dragging somebody too dumb to let go through this stretch of emotional broken glass is just too much.

The look of disappointment on the face of someone who cares as I relapse and lose this war is just something I could not bear to witness.  Once again, the Universe has stepped in, so that won't be an issue.

It's a great night to write.  It's snowing and there's nothing on television.  I'm working on a novella that was missing something important until I figured out it needed a Little Timmy.  Sadly, Little Timmy isn't going to make it, and his death will weigh heavily on our MC.  I'm not sure how exactly I'm going to kill him off and how it will connect to the MC yet, so I've been playing around with it, waiting for Little Timmy to speak up and tell me how he buys the farm.

I'm writing because that's what the universe wants me to do.  It's the only thing in my life that feels like forward progress to me.  As many of you know, I feel a kinship with Darth Vader, and I always have.  This week I found a video about his character that solidified this connection for me even more.  It is only through my writing that I can find any glimmer of light.   

If this is what the Universe wants then I guess I'd better go with it.