Wednesday, March 28, 2007

The Paris Working, Part 1


Are you with me, Laura?


Of course.

To the barricades?

Oui, et au-délà..à Montparnasse...et là-bas, à les carrières...

I love it when you speak French...

Laura does this regularly: she'll set up some kind of numinous occasion that is obviously intended to be an initiation, but will not tell me anything about it until it's almost upon me. I wrote about one of these...they can be intense. I know She has plans for my upcoming trip to Paris, and I know they are far beyond the random vision-seeking indulg'd in by Lampada Tradam and 666 in their "Paris Working"... Laura doesn't mess around. Her intelligence frightens me as much as Her love flattens me...I am a child in Her arms, and indeed saw myself as such in a dream years before I knew what She was...in an elegant green and gold room, heart-chakra decor...

in case you couldn't tell: I am going through the early stages of one of those initiations right now, and the way I know it's happening is:
  • Most of the time I have no idea what's going on, except "reality" is so topsy-turvy I wouldn't be surprised to wake up tomorrow and see that the sky has changed color.
  • Synchronicities are piling up faster than Miller High Life empties along the Daytona strip during Bike Week.
  • Despite my suspicious and control-freaky nature, I am being forced to trust my Angel, and Kali, and the convincingly faux-random collisions of molecular and neuronal billiard balls that make up the Divine Mother's unfolding.
  • I feel like I am entering a sweetly gothic earthly paradise where even the venomous spiders (à la some parallel-universe Disney) are cute and helpful...and though this paradise throbs with a gravity 18 times that of Earth, I struggle...and say, Laura, are we sure about this?
...and that's how you know it's an initiation: you're not ready and there's nothing you can do to get ready. The door is open, you hope your parachute's packed right, and out you go...Dear Readers know by now, I hope, that I don't want to sound arrogant about any of this, not that there is any reason for me to...we are all always being initiated and pushed into the next evolutionary free-fall...

the first time She grabbed me I remember the way the world looked--off-kilter layers of itself atop one another, each lovely and subtly different, and all I could do was marvel...why was it not this way before? Every bit of litter on the ground a jewel, every falafel stand a temple...She uses this sort of thing to rope the most unevolved of us, the most ignorant, She's like the pusher of urban legend who gives you that first shot for free, knowing you'll always come back for more and more and more and more...

and now it's to the point that I not only know Kali is erupting and seeping into every tendril and moment of Her creation, I see it and feel it and feel myself as (part of) it, pushed by that trajectory of Her becoming--green fuse that drives the flower-becoming [notice I don't have energy even for hyphens, except that last one]...

but, really, for all I know this trip to Paris might be nothing more than some churches and museums, some missing home, some good food, some jet lag, and some souvenirs...Notre-Dame is everywhere She is, and that's everywhere...

2 comments:

  1. Sophia6:02 PM

    You know, the poem I was working on this morning has the word tendrils in it, and used in a remarkably similar context... not exactly, but the same in spirit... that might be one of your synchronicities, do you think?

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  2. oh, yes...I'd say so... :)

    next thing you know I'll be driving past a store called "Sothis"...

    K

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