tell me a story.

Tell me the story of when fire came down and consumed two souls into one, two melded not in sameness but in fiery harmony, where they fit together and made a wholeness, a rightness, a space of intimate belonging, where love and partnership merged in the flame, a love so deep the aching overwhelms. Tell me the story of the unfolding of the fragments of wholeness through the vehicle of love. Tell me the story of a fire that can burn me with goodness and beauty. Tell me this story, not one of shadows; one of hope, not hardening. Let me flee the shadows that are bleak with chill and harden my soul in areas that have only yet begun to thaw. Tell me the story of love and light, the one that draws back the curtains of my soul and beckons me to the scent of dawn. Tell me the story where I can know light, where I can flow into the future fully present, one where this gentler light warms the hard places of my soul. Tell me a story of fire.

I don’t want to hear the story of she who steals, who embraces the cold shadow of lie and self deception that dance teasingly over her heart.

I don’t want to hear her story of longing that goes empty, a space where she remains vacant and lost and wretches in the wilderness of her under grown soul.

I don’t want to hear the story of the girl who got lost in her head with a thought, an idea, who lost all sense of presence and found herself alone in the vacuous cavern of her own mind, treading where no one hears the echoes of her footfall.

treading where no one hears the echoes of her footfall. in process for show in the space of absence. exhibition at lawndale art center, late january 2009. ~12′ x 6′ x 4′. Remnant tubes, wire, thread, cinder blocks. in process.

I don’t want to hear the story of the girl who sacrificed herself for doing only what is right, who didn’t know love because she was to afraid of doing wrong.

I only want one story; I don’t want to hear the others for fear that they are me.


6 Responses

  1. The story of the moment is an oft repeated one through history where the escape becomes the cage with a tighter grip each time it is repeated. The soft tip toes that echo of the shadows become the lies that entice. Our shadows that chase us become the overpowering reality of the moment until the pattern repeats again and again. Our friends see it but are helpless to understand how to cut off the shadows that overwhelm the reality of moment. Is it better to sense the fleeting lie of a momentary passion of freedom, or embrace the pain with the sword of change? With one becomes victory and the God inspired passion for the overcomer the other the continuance of running from the shadows.

  2. I am not running.

    I don’t see life as quite so binary. Is God binary? really? is the creator of the universe, creator of life, creator of me binary? i see some binary tendencies: i am bilaterally symmetrical, there is truth, there is that which is beneficial and that which is harmful, cause effect. So there are definitely binary elements. personally i think God is far larger and has a capacity far beyond the binary. no that doesn’t mean i can do what ever i want.

    what if embracing the pain with the sword of change looks different than you think. What if overcoming looks different, will God break out his smote button and smite me and throw me into an infinite do loop like a hamster perpetually on that squeaky wheel. what if i have been stuck in a do loop and only now begin to step aside from that loop saying dude this pattern I’ve been repeating no longer works, it has a strong tendency to replicate shadows and hardness both in myself and in jim. i have been repeating for a long time, who does this benefit?

  3. In my concept of the little I know of God is that he is fully present. Fully present prevents God from being binary. Binary is a box which I apply to provide some level of sense to the chaos that is really order when viewed from the perspective of God.

    No one has a preconceived notice of change to which to subscribe. It is our choices of change and how we wield the sword which we are empowered by a fully present God. The very real pain which is the catalyst for change is a like a drug to become addicted which we consistently up the dosage to numb the shadows and that becomes the do loop for our new “changed” life.

    Yes the current do loop must change, change to what is a process we must consider in lite of a non binary fully present God. The guideposts are numerous and some are distorted based on the perception created by pain and the shadows of everyone’s messyness.

  4. This discussion has gotten too poetic, too metaphorical, and too metaphysical for me to hope to grasp it or comment on it. I’m a neither premadonna poet or thelogical philosopher. I’m just a journeyman writer.

    The story you want to hear doesn’t exist. It’s one that you must write if you want to read it. It’s possible. It’s conceivable. (You’ve conceived it.) Now you have to do the hardwork of taking what’s in your mind and making it real in your life. Like a work of art, you won’t be able to perfectly transcribe your vision into reality. But you can try and if you’re lucky you’ll both get close enough and surprise yourself with the unexpected, lucky accidents that occur in its making.

    And yes, the stories of suicide, adultery, submission can also be stories that you choose (and make no mistake, it’s always a choice) to write or begin writing and then tear up. And yes, you could write the one in which suicide or adultery or submission are transformative (in ways other than the usual: death, empty fucks, deadend relationships), are means to a higher end or a greater good. But I don’t think those are your stories because as you’ve revealed in describing them as options you don’t think they are.