Out Of Darkness: A Return To Hyper-Reality

My imagination has always been more powerful than reality. It informs everything I do, every interaction, every conclusion. Through my eyes, everything is much brighter, much more colorful, much more magical than it is through the eyes of the average person. I know this, because I’ve tried it the “normal” way. I’ve tried to fit in. I’ve tried to be less intrusive and encouraging. It doesn’t work for me.

Viewing life through those dull grey lenses made me depressed and ill. Mind, body and spirit were affected. I closed myself off to experiences based solely on reason and agreed-upon standards of behavior and perception. I began to hate life, for becoming bland and uninteresting. Worse, I grew to hate the person I saw in the mirror. Those were very dark times, made even darker by the revelation of the gut goblin living in my mojo center. I could have died then.

There were days when that actually seemed like an option. The only thing that got me through it was the constant reminders to get over myself, from my lovingly blunt and maddeningly charming husband. He badgered me into getting therapy. I acquiesced reluctantly, but have come not only to appreciate the time expended on my account, but eagerly await my next appointment! With Eytan’s intensely curious encouragement, I am chipping away at walls, and through that action, feeling the love and support surrounding me trickling in. It is astonishing!

Yesterday I think I had a break of some kind. One minute I was turning away from the stereo system – Audioslave’s Be Yourself crackling from the speakers – and the next I was viewing everything around me through “new” eyes. As it would from a splash of icy water, my body reacted almost convulsively. I gasped and sucked in electrified air. The room had suddenly shifted sideways into what I can only describe as a more heightened realm.

Significance blared at me silently, from every corner. I had a sudden flashback to my younger self, walking into the house of a particularly interesting and somewhat eccentric older person – in the accompaniment of one invested in this engagement – and being sucked in by all the magnificent effluvia surrounding me. While the gentlemen fell into discussion of whatever it was had brought them together, I wandered quietly, fascinated by bric-a-brac, eclectic furnishings, original artwork and books.

So many books! Bookshelves crammed two or three levels deep with books of every size, color and fascinating topic. Stacks of books that didn’t fit on the shelves, but did not look out of place on the floor of this room proliferated. Old books, new books, mostly books I had never heard of, but mentally packed away until such time as I could search out said alluring tomes. Those rooms were alive with totemic energies and they transported me, deep into the dynamic realms of imagination and I wanted to live there. I wanted those magical hidden treasure troves to be my home.

And then, just as quickly, I was back in my own remarkably uncommon abode, looking around through the eyes of a younger self and finding myself deeply affected by the experience. I looked around and gasped again as realization flooded the creative centers of my brain. I was that guy! The older gentlemen I had emulated and secretly wished to become, all those long years ago… I had become!

Somehow, that fact had eluded me. Despite my attempts to trudge through mediocrity, at half my normal pace, that little voice had continued to whisper in my ears, creating comfort where before were only blank canvases and pandemonium. I had insulated myself from the realities of my situation and, in the process, created exactly the sanctuary I needed. The rush was almost overwhelming. The air around me shimmered from orange to blue and back again in spidery web-like patterns.

I realized that everything in my house – with a few exceptions (I don’t count my work station because, nYAH!) – is perfectly in place. As chaotic as the room in which I was standing comes across, if one really takes the time to look at it – much as I myself once looked at things – through new eyes, patterns will emerge – rhythms, order and flow. None of the furniture matches, but all have a very loud presence. They compliment one another with their obtrusiveness. Mementos and curios abound. That wasn’t by design, it just sort of happened.

Bookshelves crammed levels deep with books of every size and color? Check. Stacks of books on the floor? Check! Original artwork on the walls? Check! Bric-a-brac? Oh, definitely. Check! An over-all feeling that every object in the room has a story of its own to tell – but taken together, it is not cacophony, so much as intertwining symbiosis with one overall link: me and my husband, together. Check marks the spot!!!

Heavy shit. But you see how my imagination, allowed to run wild, is so much more compelling than relating a simple brain fart. Either way, I am SO FUCKING HAPPY TO HAVE IT BACK!!! OMG, YOU JUST DON’T KNOW! It’s like getting a summons from the goat god. Yay! I’m back in the magical realm! I will try so very much ultra harder not to slip out again, for whatever reason. This is where my joy has been hanging out, beyond my reach for way too long.

My sense of self is resetting itself. I’m impressing myself with my accomplishments. I’m revisiting abandoned ideas and seeing fresh possibilities in the most innocuous of places. Even better, I’m starting to really like this guy staring back at me knowingly from the other side of the mirror. He has no limitations and he’s willing to share that perceptivity with me. I can feel his energies crackling through me.

I’d call that a breakthrough. Wouldn’t you?

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