6
I’d bitten the bullet and recorded my last song—a lot like a ballad, so I was pleased about that. But forget all that—how was I doing? Right here and right now? Not bad, actually—although sleep could be a little better, and I might feel good enough, stimulated enough, and relaxed enough to do the things I do without relying so much on cans of diet Dr. Pepper, seltzer water, and cups of tea. But nothing was perfect, and I was still adjusting to the medication change, i think; i’d been relying, a little, on the risperidone when i went to sleep, and now that I was taking so much less of it, my body chemistry needed to adjust, and get back into a rhythm, something that was happening very slowly, given a little faith, prayer, and general realization that I needed to do, and enjoy doing, the things I would do if I had a partner, since i wasn’t going to form a partner, not realistically, and, also, even if i did, i would eventually be left to the same chemical construction in my brain that i have now.
So I was changing my life a little, and, also, the way that I viewed my life, since, well, to think that I am missing out on something—given the tradeoff I ended up with—is a mistake. I was choosing to view my life as something complete unto itself, which it was, instead of viewing it as something unfinished—something that wouldn’t be acceptable without a partner—or this notion that you need to be in love to be happy. Love would have been great, but it doesn’t really make you any happier than you already are—it just adds meaning and validation to an existence that, when lived correctly, already meant something, and validated us, however indirectly, too. If I had a choice, would I choose to have a partner? Would I choose to be in love? Yes, of course, it takes a degree of meaning and validation and makes it feel like more—which, i think, can help to increase our faith. But real faith is about your relationship with the divine, and your philosophy: it is incorporated over time, and the faith you incorporate on your own is no less important than the faith you incorporate with a partner. It’s just less obvious.
Now, I’d gotten back in the bath yesterday, and, after tuning to the voice of spiritual progeny, and, for a brief time, to my own voice, I tuned to Ursula’s voice for a good while. I even started to pray in her voice, but, upon second thought, it seemed that would only confuse both her and me, without necessarily connecting me to the deity. So i used the voice of my internal narrator when speaking, as I had previously decided would be the best course of action, although I still considered praying, at times, in my real voice, or the voice that I project when I think of how i sound on a recording, since, it seemed, that would be like praying through my 5D self, which, I imagined, might put things, as they stand, in a slightly different light, potentially offering new insights. Nevertheless, using the voice of my internal narrator, after tuning in my voice or Anna’s voice, seemed to be the way to get the most direct 4D connection, and the most direct response.
I was tuning to Ursula’s voice now, although the voice of my internal narrator was much stronger, and wanted to take over, perhaps, a little more than it should, especially since this book is not just about me and my various relationships—it is especially about me and my relationship with Ursula. She looked, right now, like a former actress looked when she was younger, blond and blue eyed, and happier, or more content, i think, than i generally imagined my Ursula to be. Heretofore my Ursula had seemed a little more macabre, if not dark, whereas the Ursula I was currently talking to, while she may well have been the same macabre, dark Ursula, at the moment, anyhow, didn’t seem to suffer as much—which meant that i, if I wanted, could feed off that energy, and channel it—using it to improve my wellbeing, as opposed to focusing, for the most part, on my suffering, and how it relates to my work, and the creative process. I happen to believe that the creative process is all about suffering—that it is born out of suffering, that we still suffer in heaven, even, but that, through a creative process, that suffering can be transformed into something that doesn’t feel like suffering—something that takes suffering and makes you feel good, instead. So I wasn’t opposed to suffering—but, I thought, maybe I allowed myself to suffer a little too much, and that this positive side of my Ursula was, therefore, a welcome addition to her personality.
Glad you see it that way—because some people might get the wrong idea, and assume that i’m dumb. But I knew that she knew she wasn’t dumb—she was highly intelligent, and she knew that, so she was really expressing some concern that I might interpret this aspect of her personality in a slightly unfavorable way—which, of course, wasn’t the case at all, but, perhaps, because I might seem to enjoy suffering, she had good reason to say what she said. I concluded that, if she felt the need to say that, then, at least in this case, there wasn’t something wrong with her—there was something wrong with me. I shouldn’t frown upon happiness—in myself or others, which, it seemed, out of some ill-begot fear that my work might suffer, or I might lose my edge, I could, in fact, be doing, albeit in an unintentional, unconscious way. This was distressing, because i suspected that Ursula knew darn well there was nothing wrong with her, and, therefore, she would have also known that there was something wrong with me. Or at least there would be, if i didn’t adapt, and, specifically, to this new Ursula.
I considered another subtext, too. Was she concerned that, in being this happy, I might think that she was enjoying our love affairs too much? That she was somehow getting something from others that I couldn’t give her, and that, if i took that point of view, I might get jealous, look down on her, or treat her badly? That, of course, was something to watch out for when engaging in sexual relations with more than one person—so I asked myself, is there any chance that this, to any extent, would be true? It was a valid question—one that i took seriously. And my conclusion was that she was not enjoying herself too much, that she loved me first and foremost, and, therefore, it was impossible for her to enjoy herself too much. So the real question was not whether Ursula was enjoying herself to much, but whether I, in fact, was her one true love. Because, if I wasn’t, then yes, something would be wrong, at least for me. But I had no reason to think that Ursula wasn’t my one true love; on the contrary, her happiness would indicate that she was happy with me, and that, in fact, she is not distracted by another—which would cause her to question her relationship with me, and, therefore, be a little less than happy—which, technically, is not possible in heaven, so I guess what I mean is that she would simply be suffering a little more. And, because, in heaven we always transform our suffering into happiness, if she was distracted by someone else, she would, naturally, gravitate, a little, away from me—as opposed to being so happy, or content, or satisfied, or whatever you want to call it, with me.