Through the Looking Glass

I am not Catholic, but I love their fervor. I'll start this next entry with an adopted prayer...

Hallowed Mother, do this favor: Those Wounds that gored my Savior, deeply on my
heart engrave. Mine it be, Christ's throes in sharing. Mine it be, his anguish
bearing. These, his wounds, to keep in mind. From the flame of hell unending, be
thou, Virgin, me defending, in that dreadful reckoning day! When in death my
eyes are closing, open them, Lord, to see reposing, Victory's crown in Mary's
hand. When my frame by death is broken, and my doom by thee is spoken, be it,
Lord, the better land. Amen.

I don't know, really, where to start. This journal is not meant to represent who I am so much as a journey through Wonderland. I am a visitor here myself. Well let's go with that, I suppose.

I once learned a technique called Relaxation-Visualization. I took this class back in Junior High called Autonomous Learner Module. It was a Gifted/Talented class designed to make us free thinkers. It was taught by a theater teacher. She taught us R-V to make us learn how to concentrate...but I always thought of it as an escape. A self-induced fugue from consciousness. It's why I love dreaming. You aren't accountable in your dreams. You are God.

But that's not really true, is it? Because your conscience follows you there eventually. You wake up feeling guilty of something...or, worse, you start feeling guilty while you're still dreaming. Is there no escape from conscience? Death, perhaps, but only if we're alone out here in the darkness of space. Only if He doesn't exist.

Relax. Visualize. I'm Alice, standing at a table in a deep corridor. I'm still falling, though my feet are on the ground. There's a bottle in my hand. I think I should go. I don't want to eat or drink. I don't want to open that tiny door and see what's on the other side. What if I open that door and there's nothing? What if I open it and there's God? I don't know which is more terrifying.

But I've never been afraid of anything. I've never feared the dark, heights, close quarters, snakes, spiders, public speaking, flying, clowns, open spaces, dentists, needles, old people, or any other thing of heaven or earth, Horatio, dreamt of in your philosophy. Deep water somewhat scares me. It's my only weakness. But I fear deep water because I fear the night sky. I don't fear drowning...I fear infinity.

Apeirophobia

With that exception--that one exception, I am fearless. I don't say this to make me seem brave. I am a coward. I admit it.

But there's no going back either. There's no such thing. You can only move forward, though you dig your toes into the ground and lean back, you are hurtled down that corridor. Don't you feel it? Don't you feel the inertia? It is kinetic energy that courses through your veins. Raw energy. Explosive energy. You act or you die.So I take the vial off the table, put the muffin in my pocket. The vial is labeled "Truth"...but I don't believe it. I open my mouth, grit the glass between my teeth, throw it back like a shot of forgetfulness. I fall again, only this time smaller, and the door shoots toward me like the awake at the end of a dream. It rushes toward me and suddenly I'm through it.