she's dead. gone.
earlier I was playing the chopin's nocturne op 9 no 3 and thinking of mum. I had shared a video analysis of the piece with her earlier in the year when she was still well, and she seemed amused for a bit, but later she lost her concentration because she must've been tired from the cancer.
I have not practised more since she got sicker. I feel like I don't even want to improve. when I miss her, I don't want to improve. I just want to stay the way I was.
I never had the courage to say goodbye properly to her when I still had the chance. I don't know if I can say that I tried. but I feel like I did. every day was a struggle. I had a hard time facing her mortality and my own. I think it'd be fair to say I was distracted by my sudden realisation of my own mortality from the pain of losing her. the potentially career-ending om complaint came at the wrong time. the diagnosis of tarlov cyst and lower body weakness/numbness came at the wrong time.
I don't think I've ever realised how difficult life could be until 2021. going by past trajectory, it never gets easier or more manageable. this must be why adults self-medicate with alcohol, drugs and caffeine.
even lj has lost its privacy. I would write about something hoping it'll help as some form of catharsis then people just go there to express their pity. I didn't expect anyone I know in real life to read it. it's appalling that it's now out there. but it's not really about how I care about what people think of me, not really. it's not that. it's more of the irritation at the fact that I let myself be vulnerable in front of people I didn't care about and not realising entirely what I was doing it for at the time.
I hate the old witch so much for setting me up. I know by thinking this way it would lead me down a dark road. this is a dead end.
it was hard as it was with the shit and drama from xy, then the old witch had to set me up and I had to be distracted enough to let it happen and lose focus, then I had to deal with the weird spinal canal cyst diagnosis. plus with the potential svt hanging over my head, I just couldn't.
I'm sorry mom. I couldn't let myself feel the full breadth of my emotions and let myself get out of all this mess. I couldn't bring myself to say goodbye to you properly apart from making myself stay there for as long as possible and try to live each day as it came, watching you be alive or fight to be alive.
it really didn't help that you and dad were cruel to me a good proportion of the time and didn't make me feel like you wanted me there for reasons other than practical ones. but I mean, you were only unenlightened humans.
I'm blaming everyone but myself. I tried to be enlightened but all I ended up becoming was detached.
feels good to be so bloody negative. don't think we have got enough outlets these days to allow ourselves to be this way. it's fucking hard. we're all fucking alone.
I can feel myself slowly giving everything up because I know I can never keep all of this stuff. I'm but a speck of dust in this universe, my life less than a flash in the grand scheme of time, and everyone, even the greatest of the great, dies. everyone. some more painful than others. and it's rarely up to us.
it was so easy being this brat when mum was alive. I could always be this brat.
and now, I have to steel myself and get stuff done, when thing start to brighten up. sadghuru says, beware, beware of the dead living through the living. I must keep that in mind.
Why should she give her bounty to the dead?
What is divinity if it can come
Only in silent shadows and in dreams?
Shall she not find in comforts of the sun,
In pungent fruit and bright green wings, or else
In any balm or beauty of the earth,
Things to be cherished like the thought of heaven?
Divinity must live within herself:
Passions of rain, or moods in falling snow;
Grievings in loneliness, or unsubdued
Elations when the forest blooms; gusty
Emotions on wet roads on autumn nights;
All pleasures and all pains, remembering
The bough of summer and the winter branch.
These are the measure destined for her soul.
-- Wallace Stevens, Sunday Morning
Labels: poem
Labels: poem
Labels: poem
Labels: poem
"One should never take sides in anything, Mr. Kelvil. Taking sides is the beginning of sincerity, and earnestness follows shortly afterwards, and the human being becomes a bore. However, the House of Commons really does very little harm. You can't make people good by Act of Parliament, - that is something."
--Lord Illingworth from "A Woman of No Importance", Oscar Wilde
EM: I'm in the same environment, I'm in the same place -- and why bother? Who cares? And just...I mean I was recording books, I had started teaching at a university. I mean I was doing nice things.
JF: And from outside, people are like, “Oh she's moving on with her life”.
EM: Oh yeah, yeah. And that's what everybody wants to. Moving on. You do that. And I always think – the idea, to me – ‘moving on’ is that I’m heading off from something before whereas you’re actually continuing you’re already on. You’re just maybe not aware of it in a different way. And I got back from Ecuador, a month later I booked a ticket to Kenya. And it wasn’t because that did something for me – I just went, “Why the hell not?”
...
EM: And now to the point that I'm accepting that I am that sadness. And that sadness actually depicts the level and depth of my love as well. and that those two things are not separate. I mean, they kind of are -- but they flow together. That I can love with love with my sadness. And that I can love and I can be compassionate because of how much I miss Stafford. And that I can open myself up to love again -- which was also a strict requirement of his. (laughs) Because I don't have to hold packages around everything anymore. I can just be the mess and kinda go in and move away from the city like we had planned to do -- like I had planned to do. And try to figure out how to live through these different permutations of life instead of having that single definition of 'I'm an actor. I am a yogi. I'm doing a singular career.' I could just, I need to find all and everything all the time. Because I know now that it's just -- it's so fickle (laughs) to not live authentically in every moment that you possibly have. And to live with(out) compassion is a waste of everybody's time and energy.
JF: Do you feel like sadness is still there? Do you feel like it's something that will never go? Do you feel like it's okay if it never does that you can still live a good life but it's just a part of who you are?
EM: There is this idea that sadness is something we should try to avoid. Or tiredness. Or boredom. Or these negatively connoted states of being. And certainly if you look at Eastern philosophies, we're not. And I don't think I am. Being aware of what sadness is and being aware when I'm feeling it -- that's a great thing to be aware of and to cultivate. Because then I can be happy about the little things. It doesn't all have to be symphonic. Joy and happiness is not symphonic. It's the acceptance of our failures -- when we do that, whatever failure means in and of itself semantically -- in that moment, we give ourselves hope; and hope is actually potentially what happiness is. [It's not euphoria that comes when your baby is born.] It's those tiny moments. That is the living, and it is the sadness as well. To avoid it is inauthentic. I can't avoid it. Doing and holding onto it to define myself by it? No. Is it always going to be there? Oh yeah. Oh yeah. Because it's a horrific thing. The sense of memory and trauma that I had gone through will never not be part of who I am. And if I go forward with that in mind, the level and depth of my compassion, and therefore my interactions with people -- which is kind of what we're doing, otherwise we won't have tribes -- it has a chance. Cos I can't see you if I can't know my sadness. But I don't need to hold onto it. And it will go through many different stages I'm sure. And this new Erin -- the new person that I am -- walks beside a rabbit hole -- the black vortex that is that depth of sadness that I've never known in my life. And I was wide open, all about love and everything's going great, always bright, open and positive person. And I am still. I just have a really big rabbit hole now that I can fall down to the bottom of. And then I can climb my way back out and meet whoever that's gonna (laughs) reach a hand down, you know?
(...)
I can start to dream the potential of my life instead of the future that we had planned which was so beautiful and filled with such gorgeous dreams and if I'm going to let go of anything, it's not letting go that we had those dreams, but it's letting go of me living those dreams cos I can't without him.
"With so much reading ahead of you, the temptation might be to speed up. But in fact it’s essential to slow down and read every word. Because one important thing that can be learned by reading slowly is the seemingly obvious but oddly underappreciated fact that language is the medium we use in much the same way a composer uses notes, the way a painter uses paint...it’s surprising how easily we lose sight of the fact that words are the raw material out of which literature is crafted."
― Francine Prose
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”
― Theodore Roosevelt
me: skype this saturday (GMT+10)?
p: I'm GMT - 5 so I'm pretty confused.
me: it means we're 13 hours apart.
p: so sat 10am my time that's like sun 11am your time?
me: .......your math is like, so bad
me: oh wait shit 10 + 5 = 15 hahahah
me: oh God my math is as bad as yours
“I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”
-- Dune, Frank Herbert
Memory is not exactly memory. It is more like a prong, upon which a calendar of similar experiences happening throughout the years, collect. A memory, once clearly stated, ceases to be a memory; it becomes perpetually present -- because every time we experience something which recalls it, the clear and lucid original experience imposes its formal beauty on the new experiences. It is thus no longer memory but an experience lived through again and again.
-- On "Notebooks of the Mind: Explorations of Thinking"