Jodie's LiveJournal

Subject:	Holy Grail
Time:	7:42 pm.
Mood:	restless.
Music:	Joga - Björk.

As a calmly angst-ridden teen with nothing to do, sometimes I sit at home alone wondering: what do I want to do. My mind forms fantasy scenarios of adventures I would ideally embark on, of events I would want to attend. Most initial ideas, realistic or unrealistic, are either unfulfilling distraction or hopelessly out of reach . . . or somewhere in between. I want to drive to St. Louis and look out from the Arch . . . I want to find a university lecture series in Chicago on Celtic history and Druidism . . . I want to meet a beautiful-hearted stranger in a coffeeshop . . . I want. Out of all these ideas and images, one singular point of clarity seems to form, to crystallize, into the essence of what I ultimately want to endeavor. It seems that this point of clarity has always lain beneath the surface, waiting for my consciousness to develop enough useful and fine-tuned imagination to allow it to emerge. It goes like this:

A select group of friends and I take a road trip to a sacred modern shrine, a hallowed goal that promises a utopia long desired just below the surface of knowledge. Along the way, we meet a variety of familiar strangers who bring us closer to our enlightenment, just as we bring them closer to theirs, a la Celestine Prophecy. We work together through struggles and serendipities in order to realize our deepest fears and hopes. When we finally come to the shrine, we will discover a new sense of fulfillment that . . . we have come THIS far, united in the bond of an understood commonality: an idealistic goal.

Often I have thought that the Celestine Prophecy is a load of unwarranted New-Age-ism; perhaps it is just wish-fulfillment for the modern age. The ancients had the Epic of Gilgamesh; the Dark-Agers had the story of King Arthur's knights and the Holy Grail; now all I have left of this ancient longing for Something More is a teenager's desire for a road trip. To take me far, far, away from here, from this reality in which Men Sin.

The Holy Grail is perhaps the most useful and beautiful symbol in literary history. It is the longing for an unknown promise that has touched and plagued humanity from its roots. It is the Something More that is impossible to identify clearly yet is universally felt.

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Subject:	it happened.
Time:	7:35 pm.
Mood:	pensive.
Music:	Garden of Simple - Ani Difranco.

broke up with Joe yesterday. after 1 year and 3 months. "whoa . . . " some of my friends cried. Surprise. an establishment no longer in registration.

explanation? don't need to give one. narrative? certainly. some of this is copied-and-pasted from an IM conversation with MovieManTim, while most of it is spontaneous expression. so, forgive the choppiness.

well, we had been arguing a lot lately about completely mindless things.
I had been thinking of separating from him for a bit... but scared to bring it up because i didn't want to lose the best friend i've ever had. need room to explore.
he'd been thinking about it, too. so, last night, we took a walk

«MovieManTim: Walks...in theory (remember, I would not know), those can be both the most romantic and heart-wrenching things.»

this one was calm. enlightening, maybe?

so . . . we reached an understanding that we should just cool down for a while, lose the boyfriend/girlfriend distinction.
he said that he's been worried about "getting in trouble with me" and starting still more argument. he's been helplessly censoring himself. (i'm sorry. how terrible.) Joe believes that the pressure is detrimenting the friendship.
I have been questioning our relationship. i want to pursue my personal development separate from a heavily influencing relationship. still life to live, so many questions to answer. cling to a relationship? : (

we agreed:
this relationship has felt like a marriage lately; perhaps that's why we've been holding such a precarious manifestation of harmony. we've always been better friends than anything. we've never had a " friends" period. we met each other, recognized each other, then dated. have we been deprived? must renew the friendship . . . that's more important. this is the right decision. maturity is in recognizing our own immaturity? reminds me of Socrates: "The truly wise man is he who recognizes his own ignorance." we need to learn ourselves, examine. free ourSelves from each other.

. . . when it finally came to pass, i felt this great Relief emerge.

it is frightening, though.
you know that quote from that Tom Cruise movie? "You . . . complete me."
personally, i think that's crap.
as the cliché goes, 'one plus one make two."
I've identified so much with him that I feel that he makes up a part of me, that he could "complete me." Yes, I've always known that's a bad idea.
need space (?) we're not married, after all! shudder at the thought of young marriage. sooo unprepared. (lifeless fashion magazines refer to it as ;cramping one's style . . . !)
yet the emotion remains: he has been "a part of me". and so I must experience one-ness. (holistic pun? baaaad!)

another is not a respectable surrogate for one's self.

looking to future, it feels so much better this way.
yet, a nagging fear: breakups previously have had sorrowful results. are we really certain we're different? that apathy might not happen slowly? cling cling cling . . . terror at the thought of our clinging to empty union. and so I breathe, and so emerges dubious faith. this must all go back to my subconscious uncertainty about what I see: am I fooling myself? so with energy healing, so with relationships. But I KNOW . . . We are each the best friend we have ever had. We will not miss our accustomed closeness.

Joe said that all of his previous friends had grown apart from him . . . assumed apathy, now. Told me that he knew that we were too close for that to happen.
I told Joe, "Well, that's just what best friends do."
"What?"
"Not grow apart, but grow together."
I showed him, with my palms, an analogy of the road of Life.
"Here is acquaintanceship." Palms moving forward, touching, then veering away.
"Here is a romance." Palms together, moving in a straight line.
"Here are best friends." Palms moving in parallel lines, in the same direction, an inch away from each other. "Of course, these can twist around each other at times, but this is how can be."
Joe asked me if I was illustrating it chronologically; I said yes. He veered his palms toward each other; moved the palms in a straight line, touching each other; then lifted them a bit away from each other to move parallel.
"This is us."
And so there we were, in the middle of the street, appearing to make shadow puppets on the street while two cars waited for us to pass. : )

during the walk:
I was watching our shadows from the yellow streetlamps move on the sidewalk, and i told him, "I can imagine us, me with long salt-and-pepper grey hair, you with a beard, still walking exactly like this, taking tea in the afternoons [never having tea, lol], discussing everything, still best friends."
Joe responded, "yeah . . . and that's the very least i expect from us."
i shook my head and laughed somewhat disapprovingly. "expectations.. bad........ you know how I hate those . . ."
Joe: "well . . . I know. you can think what you think, and i'll think what i think."
laugh nervously.

anyway... so, we're still staying close.
it feels like we're being mature.

on the way home, I realized just how close we were. We launched into a succession of inside jokes and laughing and random conversation. We've shared soooo much experience. so many things to talk about . . . they will never run out. Not only that . . . we think so much alike. one thought seems to lead into each other so perfectly when we're together, even if the conversation would make little sense to an outside listener. then we did homework together for a while, just resting on the couch with our books, reading with mutual concentration.

yeah, I think I'll miss him.

little trivials bother me:
how often should we call each other?
will we see each other as often as we always did?
how will this be distinguished from a romance? just . . . no kissing? no hand-holding?
yet he did agree that we could hold hands, if we feel like it.
I responded that it just feels natural to hold hands; we've always done it. his hand naturally finds mine. so, then what?
Joe said that I'm still a very important part of his life, as he is of mine.
in a phrase: how will our relationship change?
I don't want to lose any of our previous intimacy, and he has said that he doesn't either.
social standards imply that there is indeed a line between dating and friendship.
we still need to talk, communicate, share.
Joe said that we shouldn't miss each other; we'll still be right there. my worry: is he lying?
he always seems to have so much more faith in our relationship than I do. maybe due to his "expectations"? during that talk, he didn't express any anxiety about our friendship growing thinner. yet I wonder.

What a very odd situation this is, right?
stop thinking about it; I'm probably making the experience and situation musty.
Life is merely to be played out by ear, no?

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
I teased Cat and Angel today by chatting lightly with them in the halls, then saying "Guess what? . . . Well, I'm single now." Retreated quickly, immediately, leaving them crying after me, "What!?"
They confronted me after lunch today, coming from either side. Seemed sooooo much friendlier. Angel said, "Maybe then you'd have more time for us! I'm single now, too . . . ! And didn't you just quit your job?"
Cat: "Yes, now you'll have a LOT of free time."
I think: uhhh . . . no. do you realize how much stress I've been under lately?
Angel: "I'll call you tonight."
I think: You call me now, after we've drifted apart so? What about my 'singledom' makes me any different from yesterday? It's not like Joe and I were joined at the the hip. I didn't even spend that much time with him.
Cat: "Yes, boyfriends take up a LOT of time."
Angel agrees.

And now I feel ever more alone. It's true that a person can feel so much more alone when surrounded with people. Probably why I always feel antisocial, always declare myself to be antisocial, and yet only my closest friends agree with me. *sigh* I feel so much freer when I'm merely conversing with one or two friends.

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Subject:	find me!!!
Time:	5:27 pm.
Mood:	worried.
Music:	the hum of inner anxiety..

I lost Lyn's earring. noooo . . . this is making me feel bad; stomach sinking. I guess I highly treasure that object . . .

I met Lyn on one of the most enlightening days of my life. The only day of school I have ever cut. Existential angst, schoolwork, working for a nongoal I could no longer comprehend . . . loss of self, looking for some kind of passion. I had nothing to do, so I decided to just drive over to the mall to hide. An art fair had been proceeding at the time. Lyn was the first artist I met. A 50-year-old man with kindly eyes and a strange countenance who fidgeted to the beat of nearby Abercromie's thumping music. Seemed to recognize me when I passed idly by his display and asked him how he was. He thanked me for the concern. The art display was filled with one-hole earrings that extended all the way up the ear. I asked him about cartilage earrings. He told me his life story. His momentous religious conversion at the lowest point of his life. How he met that tranquil black man who offered to fix his car when it broke down in the middle of the city. Turned out that the other man had gone through the same sort of experience that Lyn was suffering through. "How can you remain so at peace? How can you still live?" asked Lyn in wonderment, yearning to end his inner tragedy, to encounter hope and light. The kindly stranger eventually gave Lyn a book on transcendental meditation. Now Lyn Calls himself Hindu, although he believes in different kinds of religion. He showed me an awesome bagua necklace a gypsy in New Orleans had given him, and oh I grew envious! . . . . anyway, Lyn inspired me to walk all over the fair, starting conversations with every artist I could encounter. everyone eager to speak, express his life story, assert that his passions are indeed important. met so many people. what a glorious day. seems that I had realized myself just a tiny bit more that day.

And, oh, anyway, Lyn gave me an earring for a very low price. It has always come back to me. I remember when someone stole my purse; the earring had been inside. later on, the theif returned the wallet that contained the earring. superstition!

maybe, subconsciously, I've come to associate that earring with spirituality. or at least the mysteries of life. The earring is lined with amethyst crystals. Lyn brought it to me. Now I don't know where it is! That earring represents such a remarkable memory . . . it's would be dire tragedy if I never found it again. still, have faith. I CAN'T LOSE IT! *sigh* It may seem like such a minor material possession . . . but I've put such value on it! just like so many things I own. I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost my most important articles of memory. I can make a mental list right now. oh, wow . . . such to represent life . . . (??)

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Subject:	What has happened to me?
Time:	5:23 pm.
Mood:	embarrassed.
Music:	Swan Dive - Ani Difranco.

Yeah. Something in particular is eating me today.

Today, as we were standing at the front desk of the school library, Liz Dell remarked to me: I wonder what everyone is thinking right now. I had to ask her to repeat what she said ... it's so unusual for a person to just say that to you, out of the blue. Now, I rarely speak to her; she's not a particular friend of mine. I replied, yeah . . . it must be such a multitude of individual chatters. Then, carelessly, I added that someone thinks I can read people's thoughts. She got all excited: really??? It must be such a gift!!! How do you do it!? without giving even a second thought of doubt. She became enthusiastic. I grew all flustered; I didn't know what to say. I tried to explain by saying, "Well, I know this guy who's written a book on Reiki healing - spiritual healing - and he said that I can read people's thoughts, I don't know. I didn't know how to react to someone who actually took me seriously; I had meant for my careless remark to be taken jokingly. Suddenly, I realized that I didn't want to talk about the subject of spiritual abilities at all. When she asked me how people read minds, it immediately occurred to me to mention the Third eye ... but then I shot myself down. I know too many skeptics who have influenced me. I didn't want to become a possible quack.

Finally, I dismissed it all by saying, "Well, don't believe it ... it like came from a wacko! well, not really ... He's a total New-Ager, I don't know." Then I just felt bad about it immediately. Out of my nervousness, the topic died down.

What has happened to me? What do I believe?

I have experienced Reiki energy ever since middle school; I have seen auras; I must KNOW it's all true. Right. I do. But I'm more reluctant now to discuss it with others. After all, I hang around the intellectual often-skeptical crowd at school. These people often don't believe in anything that is not proven in science. And the rest of the world would back them in their cynicism because there's absolutely no reason to believe people like me.

I feel the effects of Reiki healing. It feels tingly and often intense. I have seen it in action. Headaches, colds, body aches ... they have disappeared due to healing. Mr. Smith's cancer-stricken wife has been in remission for yeeeeears. I see auras. I can often tell much about a person just by looking at him. Bla, bla, bla - who cares. I'm a whacko.

Novels often proclaim: "Believe in the magic!!!". They often contain stories in which people learn to believe in miracles and forces that dwell outside of mundane reality. Magic-type ideas are condoned in that sense. However, in real life, what do people REally want to believe?

I remember a time last year or so when I would flamboyantly declare my belief in the spiritual. Those with the same type of temperament as I would be fascinated by my words. Vilija, especially, was willing to believe in auras and spirituality; after all, she even owned a few books on the subject. It didn't hurt that her mother knew of all the chakras and listened to New-Age music. Now I don't care about letting other people know. Actually, now I feel like a fraud whenever I express my inner ideas.

I'm very insecure about making New Age claims. Probably because (as most everybody knows) I hate New Agers. It's like a separate subculture full of people who shamelessly glorify themselves. "Oh look, I'm psychic! I'm special! I have special abilities!" I have even heard of a separate group of people who call themselves the "Starseeds" - they are those who find themselves different and much more wise than the people around them. Their theory is that they are descended from a different planet. Ewwwww. I just despise hearing about people who believe that they've loved their wives in about twenty previous lives, and that they have reincarnated from glory. They seem to forever to be making up their own stories so as not to feel insignificant. They deem themselves special through their New-Age ideas.

When I think of telling people about my Reiki study and auravoyance, I somewhat cringe. If I told people, I'd feel like a fraud. Who am I to say that there's ANYTHING more than what is proven by science? Who am I to say that people can be healed though completely holistic means? I'm just a kid who may or may not be fooling herself. I don't want to think I'm special; I'd feel like a New-Ager.

I talked to Kent Irish on Saturday. He is a spiritual believer of the ultimate sort. Kent's a Druid / Pagan / Hindu / Buddhist. Talk about Neo-goth. He told me that I needn't worry about sounding like a whacko when I tell him about my concerns. Still . . . what has happened to me?

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