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This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine...

Monday, January 28, 2008

From my Journal, From the Train, From this Morning

"In an effort to look at peoples' faces and NOT their accessories I was overwhelmed by 1 coincidence and 1 hope. At the California stop and wanting to love human faces, stood outside the window of my particular car an old acquaintance; someone who'd be a good friend, I've always thought. I was wanting and meaning to reach out and and there he stood - a reminder of the people out there waiting, without knowing it, to be my friends. The hope I came upon a stop later, still looking at faces. All the silent people wearing their masks trying to armor their beings. Many not wanting to be looked at and avoiding my gaze, some glancing nervously back at my eyes, and others with far off otherplace stares. Little by little I saw the ones who were also looking at faces and we smiled at each other, made space to honor one another. Humanity can be so beautiful, and humans - regular people - too are beautiful often, when encouraged to open up."

Then...after a dream-like morning of picking up the pieces that last week's existential crisis has strewn, I go to eat lunch. I fearfully, determinedly pick up Off the Map again and read this:
"There in the electric carriages of emptiness, people were connected by underground tunnels passing beneath jittering streets, but never by each other. Strangers avoided each other's gaze, or occasionally, reached into eyes to scoop out anything unguarded."

I'm focusing lately on noticing what makes my soul sing and continuing to do (or foster) those things. Last night, after another emotionally rocky night of terrified confusion amidst "reality", I considered the fact that fires-to-sit-around make my soul sing. Since, I'm not logistically/mentally ready to run away the way I dream of, and fires aren't very practical in this city, I reminded myself that excavating the cracks of this place makes my soul sing too. I have pulled my camera eyes back out in order to capture all the places in which life pushes up through the cracks in spite of all the money and shows trying to pave over us.
Instead of running away (now) I'm making space for myself and for my magic. I know it's here. I believe it's here. This many people can't be without spark, spirit, or magic. There are plenty of places for sorcerers to hide in this metropolis.

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