Wow. Google rocks.
I remember spreading out our Encyclopedia Brittanica nice, juicy red volumes all over the carpet when I was a kid. So in rapture from all the information, tidbits and trivia. I loved the "H" volume with its plastic page overlays of the human body.
We even had the Childcraft supplementary volumes - 15 coloured hardcover books; Stories and Fables, Crafts, Holidays, Cultures - all manner of interesting fare for a wunderkind readaholic 12 year old.
I remember when mom bought them from a door to door salesman. How I gave her hell. ("We don't have that kind of money to throw around on encyclopedias!") How she argued the point and didn't give a rat's ass how broke we were. We needed the 1983 set of Brittanica and each supplemental volume of "Year in Review" every year thereafter. And that, asshole, was that.
Now, I punch in a word or two, carefully bonded together by a space bar punch, and BOOM, 171,734,231 hits, organized in order of importance, views, relevance, etc. Google rocks.
Today I punched in the number "6", preceded by "significance of the number." Whoa. Very cool.
The number 6 is represented by the Hebrew word "vav" which is the word used in the Torah linking Heaven and Earth. Like a "hook" the vav links heaven and earth. The physical and the spiritual.
Whoa. Six used to be significant to me because that was the increment in which beer was sold.
Six. It's pretty big in the House of David, the Jewish House. Six pointed star and all that.
Six. The sense of wholeness or oneness: The whole of an object - back, front, right, left, top and bottom. Six sides.
Today is the sixth day in this, the journey of recovery of one S. Hughes. Feeling grounded, whole. Balanced. Healthy.
Things are not perfect but they are whole. I am part of this whole.
I mask my feelings with practical realities... (as in "I shouldn't be feeling this") And it is not a very healthy thing to do. I am choosing to learn to honour what I feel, when I feel it. A time for everything and everything in its time.
But choosing to act or not on those feelings is another art within itself.
Feel them, yes, but perhaps it is best to not say "go fuck yourself" to someone who signs your paycheques even though the overwhelming desire to do so is front and centre. How to honour and value one's truths without stepping on the toes of the world or compromising your health and sanity.
This is the message of the day.
Brought to you by the number 6.
xox
S.
As an addendum... I was somber today. Stilled to the core but out of sorts. Neighbour shared some goat curry and I shared some battered pickerel.
ReplyDeleteI kind of felt like a battered pickerel, or perhaps a flagellated perch.
Sad. Heavy. Hitches in my breathing. Tears on the brink. Glad to be here, to be clean, to be clearing away wreckage, but heart rattled - soul dragging its tin cup across the bars.
To what avail? To what end? "Let me out," says Gordie Downie. "Let me out."
It gets so sticky down here.
As Falstaff sings his sorrowful refrain for a boy on Fiddler's Green.