Sunday, January 22, 2006

Winona Minnesota Mississippi River (Internet) Sutra

From: "Bobby G"
To: terrasoluna yahoogroups
Sent: Monday, January 16, 2006 5:10 PM
Subject: TerraSoLuna~ presque vu

spring of 1973, and the Mississippi valley was full of water, from one bank to the other. from the bluffs above Winona, looking out over the valley, the sun's reflection off all the water made it look as if a miniature archipelago had formed in the valley. at sundown, out at the old farmhouse a group of hippies had congregated, for there was fellowship, and windowpane, to be had. he felt comfortable with windowpane, those tiny gelatin squares that you could be pretty sure held only acid, because not enough of anything that could really harm you would fit in that small a space.

four, or maybe five, of them had consumed the tiny windows, oh maybe an hour or more earlier. he'd forgotten to check the clock. it didn't matter. there was a square slab of sawn limestone sitting in the big living room and in the dim light he could swear there was an amazingly clear pattern suddenly revealed in that stone, something geometric, logical, as if drawn that way. he remarked to Rita, sitting on the battered old sofa, "i'm seeing pattern. in this stone. in everything. it's amazing. wish you could see this."

Rita, a tall girl who seemed very young, but very wise for someone so young, regarded him for a long moment. "there's a pattern," she said through a big grin. "but it's not like you're thinking, exactly. the pattern is Mind (he could hear the capital letter in Mind, he was sure). Mind is reflecting back on itself. everywhere Mind is at work, searching for a pattern, for a meaning to it all, there's the pattern. that's what's so way-out about it."

he reflected that this girl always found a way to say the most incredibly profound things. she could make the most bland cliche even sound profound, like newly-discovered wisdom.

"sometimes," she said, you think you've found the one big pattern, like pattern of patterns. but," she said, "you nev...

"wait!" he exclaimed, rising up out of the overstuffed chair. "i've gotta go outside and walk!" he was sure he'd heard a voice say, "get bundled up and get on some walkin shoes. i'll show you the pattern, how it all works. what i'm about to show you, will be astonishing to you..."

outside the night was one of those frozen Minnesota spring nights bathed in a brilliant moonlight that beckoned him to walk. he started walkin, accompanied by an insistent voice-track, "yes, you will see. it's right up ahead. see that hill? right over the hill, you will see it revealed..." things like that kept cycling through his head.

he walked for a long distance, in a speedy head, thinking the whole time. people kept coming to mind, his mom & dad, siblings, friends, people he'd been working with. they all seemed amusing, funny, lighthearted, and profound. it seemed that finally, the things they did, the way they were, all made sense. they were perfectly logical, they had to act as they did because their life-scripts were crafted so... even the loading-dock guy, the one with the incessant stream of racist jokes, even he made sense. he found himself really liking the people who populated his tiny world. he would seek them out, give them a really big hug and say, "i know!" ... no, wait a minute. these were "straight people," that hug idea wouldn't do. maybe there was like a handshake, or a special phrase, a knowing look, you could give that said in a universal language, "i know..."

the walk grew longer and longer. the voices had promised that in the revelation of the Pattern to All Things, there would be "a mantra, your mantra, which you can chant to remind yourself if you forget..."

always he was egged on---"see that grove of trees? just past there, you'll see, you'll see."

it seemed as if hours had passed. he was pretty sure the acid was wearing off now, and had been circling back on the dirt road back to the big farmhouse, and he had been chanting his mantra softly, just under his breath, for it seemed like the last quarter-hour now. he had found the Pattern, and knew the chant. it was an easy chant, and it went...

"whoa." he said out loud. "what the heh---" he
realized he'd been chanting,

"what i'm about to show to you
will be astonishing to you
astonishing to you

what i'm about to show to you
will be astonishing to you
astonishing to you

what i'm about to show to you
will be astonishing to you
astonishing to you..."

"damn." "un-fucking-believable..."

Rita was sitting outside gazing toward the brilliant red sunglow off in the east. to her back was a bright, setting moon. she was watching him approach, wearing an amused look.

"hey. long walk, huh?"

"yeah. i was uh...the Pattern...i was... wow, i'm really hungry. and chilly. i'm gonna go in and find something to eat and stand by the wood cookstove and warm up. you comin in?"

"in a while," she said, as he started up the creaky steps. "hey?"

he turned back. "yeah?"

"i started to say--you never really get to see it, ya know."

he gazed at her for another long moment, again marveling at this girl of perpetual profundity. he shook his head and giggled, banging the rattly door behind him...

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