Friday, February 22, 2008

brians brain p1

An autobiographical journal originally named Brian's Brain / Daily Log began on Thanksgiving Day in 2000 and ended in 2006 at a Tripod site. I am reposting that journal here. During those years I kept a like endeavor at ThirdAge. Have begun reposting it in my AOL blog. * Thanksgiving Day (23NOV00) - If no one ever reads this log I will not be surprised, nor will I be further saddened. Given the way I now feel, there is already enough sadness in me to fill our galaxy. And don't go "Oh, poor baby"; for a goodly portion of this sadness in could easily have been avoided, but I made a series of grave errors because I failed to do that which Solomon did: pray first for wisdom, and because I failed to do that which Socrates urged: to care to know myself, and because I failed to do that which all the great prophets and teachers catechize: seek to fill each moment with the wondrous light of that peace which is godly love. Am I a horrid person? No: not all-in-all, though certainly from time-to-time. Do I fear my future as a human being may well be more and more difficult? Yes. Have you ever felt insufficient, of little or no current value? Each of is, of course, valuable; but value in the mind of God is far different, often enough, from value in the mind of a crowd of humans. Why am I bothering to write this? I need to. Remember "he's a loser, but he still keeps on trying"? Hmm. In one sense every human is a loser, even those who are afforded fame by other humans. In another sense every human is a winner, even those upon whom infamy is cast by other humans. Jesus said: "You have heard it said you should love you neighbor as youself. I say you also love your enemy." Let me interject here a warning: Trekking with me, while it may be instructive, may also be highly dangerous, especially for one who is not adept at negotiating abnormal interior realms. Let me present some touchstone revela- tions. I have always been fascinated by the wind, by loneliness, by vast spaces, by whatever brings tears of joy, by words. At times the reality of being human/ is excruciating. ~ Friday 24NOV00: - I am such a riddled result! I did not dream it would be so. I even dreamed excessively beyond any potential I would reasonably be capable of. How do you define insanity? Is allowing a failure, however dire, to cause one to drop the shield of hope, more insane; or is clasping the shield of hope inordinately tight against one's heart when it no longer can protect one from failure/ more insane? Were it not for human insanity, where, pray tell, would humanity be? If that isn't a double-edged question, I do not know what is. But, in fact, what is striving anyway, if not a form of insanity. Obviously, those "insane" acts which produce results of value, which enhance human lives, lose then whatever layers of "insanity" opinions had given them. Examples abound. Nonetheless, opinions do matter in the here-and-now, and it takes an uncanny self- confidence to do that which the doer knows will not be appreciated in the doer's life. Stendahl comes to mind. Leonardo da Vinci comes to mind. And then there is Confucius. Others? You know there are: thousands of others. My core temperament is melancholic: a bane, and yet a spur. Doing that which is of artistic and/or investigative merit gives me the deepest pleasure. Do I wish my creations would also deeply please you? Yes. Will I have wasted my life if nothing I create is deemed to be of merit? ~ Saturday 25NOV00 - There were years during which whenever a goodly chance came for it, I would respond: Smile, you're on Kik the Kam'ra. There were other like negatives I also/ frequently voiced. I was not born a physically healthy human. Neither was I born mentally healthy. That is why/ now nearly 60 full years later/ while I am not "disabled" I am disabled just the same. That is why I wrote A Special Thank You on my Ring: Atrium IV Homepage, a thank you which now is on the page linked to here. Let every pulsing of your cursor/ a heartbeat be. Let each such remind you--especially so at those moments your spirit is anguishing-- you are a being of intricate beauties and transformational energies. If I no longer am able to/ save myself, perhaps you, reading this, are yet able to save yourself, and will. ~ Sunday 26NOV00 - Yesterday--I am not sure why--I decided to find out who the Saint of The Day for today would be. It is St. Leonard of Port Maurice, a Friar who gave retreats and promoted The Stations of the Cross devotion. The last sentence in the "Comments" section: "When was the last time you prayed The Stations of the Cross?": moved me to think back and say to myself: I believe it was during those days in 1960-62 when I was a Jesuit Novice. Leaving the story of Friar St. Leonard, I went to my iwon searcher and did a Stations of the Cross search, quickly finding station.html - - - Yesterday I prayed The Stations of the Cross and several other prayers. Today I have done so again. I found that I had not clearly remembered the "Our Father" and the "Hail Mary" but that the words did return to me. Enlightenment. Divine intervention. My life has not been a storied one. Perhaps that is because I have not had the wisdom to make it so, but it has been one of many minor triumphs; and it has been one punctuated by mysterious events I prefer not to attribute to chance or coinci- dence, events my actions did play a significant part in but which actions would have come to naught had it not been for what I see as divine intervention. Do I therefore expect divine intervention to ever save me when I am in need? No. Certainly I have never deserved such wondrous aid, and even though my need for such today is greater than it has ever been, I feel I now deserve it less: that is how grave I count the errors I have made. Remember I told you trekking with me might be exceedingly dangerous. There is a chance you might be privy to the dissolution of a human psyche, though I do pray that won't be so. [ Peace and light. ] 1 Rho00034

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