Impulsive Writing (02)

I was about to discover something new…

That’s the feeling I had one night as I fell asleep and began to dream that I was walking up a steep trail through tall trees and dense undergrowth. As I climbed, the trees began to thin, and the soft trail of soil and pine needles was becoming hard and rocky. As I passed up through the last of the trees, the trail finally ended at the bottom of a steep, boulder-strewn slope that rose to the mountain top above surrounded by clear, wide-open sky.

I stopped briefly to catch my breath and consider my options. Ahead it was exposed, barren and trackless. Behind was the security of trees, lush vegetation, and a well-worn path. In that moment I felt a compelling desire to turn back. But then I reminded myself that I was here to discover something new, so I set my jaw and continued to climb.

But almost immediately a feeling of emptiness began to grow. And with each step I took a little part of me seemed to fall away and stay behind. And when I finally reached the top, and took that last step, I felt as though my entire past had been stripped away and left scattered on the rocks below. And that’s when I discovered something new…

A clear, fresh, uncluttered point of view.
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6 comments on “Impulsive Writing (02)

  1. “Mr Lawson, what was your relationship to your father, if I may inquire? And would you please sit straight on that sofa. I cannot concentrate with you constantly moving around like that.”
    “Sorry, doctor. It’s just that I’m a bit anxious today. My assistant didn’t show up this morning and I’ve missed a most important business opportunity with China.”
    “Mr Lawson, you are thinking negatively. Remember: everything that is in your life right now, you have attracted. From your wife to the garbage can you drove your Porsche into this morning while pulling out of the garage.”
    “I should have known that that was a bad omen…”
    “Your wife, you mean?”
    “I haven’t thought about that before… but now that you mention it…”
    “Mr Lawson, let us get back to your father.”
    “Get back to what? I don’t even know where the hell the bastard is.”
    “That is not important.”
    “My wife always says that location is everything in life.”
    “Forget about your wife. You are pussy wipped. You need some Paxil immediately.”
    “What I need is a vacation… and some sleep.”
    “Typical escapist syndrome. I am afraid you are terribly depressed. Have you had any suicidal thoughts lately?”
    “Not really. But I do fantasize about wrapping my neighbor’s head in a cinnamon ice cream soaked diaper. Oh, and I sometimes envisage my wife’s head stuffed with cabbage hanging from the Statue of Liberty on a golden rope.”
    “There you go about your wife again. Did you ever fantasize about making love to your mother?”
    “I thought I was supposed to remember my father now.”
    “Aha! And you remembered him the very instant I associated your mother and your own sexuality. Well things are pretty clear, I’m afraid. You are chronically depressed. Maybe bipolar. And most probably also suffer from a mild form of social anxiety disorder.”
    “The only thing I suffer from is chronic loneliness…”
    “Now, now. You are starting to play the victim, I can notice. I fear a severe bout of paranoia. I may have to suggest temporary confinement. You are a threat to yourself and your society in your present state.”
    “Doctor, I’m afraid that’s gonna have to wait. I have a highly important business lunch scheduled in approximately two hours. I have to get down to gym and this evening I am attending a secret meeting at the Al-Qaeda headquarters. We are planning to blow up the Eiffel Tower with a bomb hidden inside a teddy bear.”
    “Mr Lawson, you are a workaholic. I highly recommend an increased dose of Effexor XR for that. And start putting down your dreams in a coherent manner. That might help us a bit in treating your obvious and extremely destructive Oedipal complex. A notebook might be a good idea. Or maybe a blog.”

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  2. Thank God you said this… otherwise I’d still be crying. I thought you had packed and shipped me to the North Pole. May I have a kiss (on the cheek, as we’re in the office?)

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  3. What a scary thought. Not the part about leaving the past behind, I’ve done that over and over…the part about the bleak and trackless landscape ahead. Where to find the courage…It reminds me of a recurrent dream, probably a common one, of stepping off a cliff into nothingness, instantly grappling for a mental concept to make me feel safe.

    It’s The Fool in the tarot deck, representing the state where you know nothing, but are thereby in the best state in which to learn something. Something completely new, completely different with no pre-conceived notion of whom you are or are going to be.

    It is the function of the anam cara, the soul friend who might be someone you don’t even like, who knows you well enough to push all your buttons, push you to the edge of the precipice and, when he deems you ready, give you that last push…

    Thank you for that.

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