Night

It seems like today will be a good day, rainbows have been dancing around the room. My daughter was pretending to lick them to taste the flavors of the different colors. It was a happy scene layered with the ghosts of compelling sounds like that of a dog catching a hollow ball in its mouth and of cold dough being sawed with a serrated knife.

Light shows are one of the benefits of having a fish tank near a window on a sunny day. Another benefit is being able to watch movies like The Abyss while the tank gurgles to the side provoking reflections on the idea of breathing water. 

I woke up this morning feeling like I'd been told off in my sleep. Scrooge has gotten another talking to. Apparently I don't talk to people enough. It's not easy to know what to say. Shall I recite the newspaper? Gawker headlines? No, I'll speak about the nothing of my life which is remarkably something. 

When I first read Meister Eckhart's statement about hating oneself I was put off. I know he was speaking of humility but it's complicated. Sometimes hating oneself is a habit of control based on internalizing the abuse of another whose resentment was too painful to accept. Later I saw that it references the ego strength it takes to find fault in oneself and accept, if not seek out, criticism. How does one find that strength? People decimated by criticism and neglect in their early years may not have the strength to endure the critiques that can lead to self-knowledge or subtle awareness of truth. All of life becomes about remaining numb and fleeing the site of the tragedy. Luckily seeds of love float around this world. With the power of their intoxication one can take another look into chasms of disappointments. 

The people that are revived after they die often speak of a life review. Whether it is a spiritual or mental process I imagine it can be something hard to take in. Is it ok to have the life review before you die? Is it ok to have it every night? I don't know how one would one find the strength, but I know all one's friends would be happy about it. 

Another thing I read in Eckhart was the idea that the brightest light shines in the darkness. I think he was quoting someone else, who may have been a distant relative of the first to note that the dark comes before the dawn. When one speaks this way what happens to the warm, velvety dark, and the long, cruel light?