Monday the 13th

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Rain in San Francisco

Happiness comes uninvited. I hadn’t planned on being happy today. Yesterday I was in the pits. Today is the inverse of Friday the 13th. I got up to rain, which led to a downpour in the afternoon. I sat inside and blogged. I felt wistful, but not particularly happy. At about 4:10 pm, I left the apartment and went to the library, and something unbidden came over me. I felt an incredible peace come over me. Time appeared to slow down a bit, and I could see things clearly. The dread which has been my companion for so long, lifted. There was a golden sunset flooding the sides of the buildings as I left the library and headed home. I felt happy for absolutely no reason whatsoever. I cannot account for it.

Unfortunately such feelings don’t pay the rent, but during this time I ran into someone who lives in my building who offered to help in a small way if I needed it. It confirmed my feeling that life is basically good. I am sure many horrible things were taking place during this epiphany. People were being hurt, some dying, but in my particular skull silent contentment reigned. Perhaps I am bipolar, my emotions swinging from one extreme to another. But not really. I am usually mildly optimistic, not contented, but also not suicidal. Sometimes I do get depressed and angry, but I think that is due to circumstances. I am unemployed and unable to pay next month’s rent. I have had these peaceful moments before. In those times your senses undergo a transformation. Everything takes on a precious quality. You become aware that life is a very fragile, extraordinary thing which is here briefly, then gone. Maybe this was the flip side of the meditation upon death I had the day before. Possibly, the emotional stress I had been going through caused my mind to become silent, allowing this experience to occur.

I have posted about this stuff before, but it bears repeating. Times like this reveal a possibility which usually escapes my attention. Everything can be beautiful. Actually beautiful isn’t the right word. Because it is not an aesthetic judgement, it is an appreciation of the “isness” of everything, fragile in this moment, not to be repeated.

Only people who have had this sort of experience will get anything out of this post. I am sure it feels like a bunch of metaphysical new age nonsense to many others. But maybe not, I hope this contributes to you. It shows that such epiphanies are possible. You don’t try to be happy, it just happens without rhyme or reason.

This is the kind of light I saw

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