archival.
On Fri, January 12, 2007 11:57 am, ****** wrote:
> In ancient Buddhist sutras, the lotus flower was regarded as a symbol
> of purity and the spirit of unselfishness. Every summer they blossom,
> with their petals of transparent lavender floating on the water and
> their leaves rippling in the gentle breeze blowing across the pond.
i’m familiar with the meaning…
> Scarabaeidae-Dung Beetle
>
> The Egyptians saw the universe in miniature within the life cycle of
> this coprophagous insect. This was because the Dung Beetle emerged
> from the earth like the rising sun, rolled its dung ball over the land
> just as Ra himself moved across the sky and then, as the sun set, so
> too did the beetle disappear back into the earth, only to rise again
> the following day. It became a powerful symbol to the Egyptians,
> venerated for thirty centuries as the symbol of rebirth and everlasting
though this is new….
> Strange how you don’t see those two things as part of any Fenix. I bet
> you have had many rebirth’s in your time. And you already shown how
> much you enjoy watching ripples….
hm. i suppose i just distinguish between what i would hope to be and what i feel i manage to be. but yes, there is definitely a reason the phoenix holds meaning here. the same with fire. change, transmutation, unending cycles, seed that slumbers through aeons, until forgotten, but never forgets.
i am told both by my lama and others that there should be no distinguishing, but how can you not when the whole world wants to remind you of all the things you aren’t? “everything they want you to hide is everything that makes you feel alive.” (vertical horizon… great song – ‘i’m still here’)
i’m coming off of a time when i really thought i could prove anything to anyone. not in an egotistical way, though i suppose it often seemed that way. but by refusing to give up. just. refusing. trying. even when the whole damned multiverse was screaming in my face, ‘give UP. go AWAY.’
it’s funny, in that special sad way that makes you cry when it rains. the person who taught me how not to run away abandoned me as soon as i learned.
always late, i suppose. i guess this is the part where i’m supposed to say ‘better late than never’, but you know what? it isn’t. it’s just heavy.
but i know it doesn’t have to be. well, i say i do. i’m too stubborn for anyone’s good. if there’s a breath in me, as soon as i feel it is there, i’m right back at it. that’s how i survived, you know. and i don’t think i know how not to be stubborn. which is kind of scary, because i just can’t take hurting like this anymore.
i recently wrote that even my anger is weary. that i’m sore to the bone. and the sickness of the stubbornness is simply that, even knowing this, feeling it from eyeballs to toenails, i honestly don’t know if, as soon as it lightens, lessens, i won’t be right back there… camping in the corner… the only place left to me… the only place i guess i deserve, all things considered.
but i am so tired of living in the corners no one else wants to be near except when they have nowhere else to go. the hobo’s hobo. the one they can always count on to remind them that at least they ‘aren’t that bad’. that’s how it feels.
and all the words in the world doesn’t change it because all i ever see are the actions that never match them. what kind of belief can you put in the words, ‘i’ll always be there for you’ when the person saying it is running away as fast as they can move?
not just this last year, you know. it actually started with my parents. just seems like i’m real easy to leave behind. i’ve never understood it. and sometimes, i’m almost convinced it really is me. and maybe i would be convinced were it not for this odd little voice that won’t shut up and just refuses to accept that.
thing is, that voice speaks a lot softer lately. it’s getting harder to hear. and i really don’t know what happens when it shuts up.