Thursday, January 17, 2013

Strangers to the seasons


Tim and Dante have come on behalf of the Imperical Rogue Thratre Company.They want to produce a comedy about suicide...called Suicide...hmmmm...from1928 by a Russian playwright Nickolai Erdman. Looking like maybe spring. Feels good. 

Heart of the day taken up with a conference call about a possible agreement that could possibly produce the solution I want, not one I have to accept. Lots of questions to explore. Lots on the table. It’s still alive.  And time very short. Like the extra time in a soccer game...the ref has just added 4 minutes more...

RL stops in before another visit to Harvey. There are some minor victories to declare.We talk about our experience of yesterday.  He understands well the difference between the crazies who know they are and the ones that don’t. The ones smart enough and in control enough to trick the testers. The power of delusion in the situation. And he understands how Teddy had learned that nonengagement pays off better than even fights you win. Being in this place requires a certain zen approach, or maybe emotional aikido. 

The Ralph McTell song Marc played yesterday was Stranger to the Seasons...      an evocation of the pain of unemployment on an individual and society...

For a man without a job
Is a stranger to the seasons
No music to the cycle of the changes will he hear.
Like a band without a drummer
There's no Winter, Spring, or Summer
There's no rhythm to the passing of the 
Months that make the year.

Feels like that sometimes.

When I come back from the strange and beautiful Aging Magician at the Here Art Center, the folks from Course on Miracles are finishing up their night. Outside on the steps are three Mexicans and the white man we fed last week. Three Mexicans and a white man, strangers to the seasons...

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