Fantasy and Nightmare

I’m in my room now. I must have gotten up around 3:30am. I lied in bed for about an hour thinking about you and talking to you. I told you about a nightmare I had. I had your full attention. This is my fantasy. I began with the most detailed aspects of the dream first, I jotted something down and you read it and gave a critique while I regaled you. You nodded and I continued to tell you about my dream: it was terrifying. I was alone and encumbered (as per usual) with a dozen things. I saw you walking around my new apartment building so I stopped to say, “Hello”  but you were too engaged and focused on something/someone else. I grew despondent and a bit jealous and bitter so I left and went to my apartment. When I was there, I realized that I had forgotten something and I needed to leave immediately to retrieve it before my next engagement. I left my apartment, with all my things strapped to my body, and headed for the store. On my way out, someone stopped me and asked me for help, so I stopped momentarily before I realized there was nothing I could do to remedy the situation so I decided to keep moving.

At the store, I looked around for a cart and tried to remove some of my belongings. There, at the entrance, stood a man, handsome and tall and eternally transfixed on my being. He gave me an eerily piercing gaze and I shuddered. I tried to leave quickly but he approached me and began jeering me in the most unpleasant manner. I could not leave somehow, or didn’t want to appear frightened, so I stayed in the store. He continued speaking but changed his tone to more of a supplication of sorts.

He told me that I was the most captivating creature he’d ever seen and that I ‘belonged’ to him. He said that I should accompany him to his home and stay with him. His tone and directness terrified me somehow. Then, I saw you in the store; you were wearing plain clothes: a t-shirt and bermudas or sweatpants so I ran to you, seeking your protection but again you were preoccupied and unaware of me. It was as if I could do nothing to get your attention. That was my nightmare.

I left the store alone in hopes to get away from the man but he pursued me and became more forceful and aggressive with me. At that moment, flustered and hopeless, I dropped my belongings and closed distance with my attacker. I fought him until he was on the ground and berated him with insults. I got a second wind and showered him with more blows until he begged me to stop. I couldn’t stop. I wanted him to breathe his last… I wanted to see the life exit his body. I was determined to see him dead. I can’t remember the rest of the dream, only that I met you again and I begged you to make love to me. You didn't pay attention to me otherwise.

Behind The Mask

Yesterday I was frustrated and on the precipice of a heart-wrenching and conflicting realization. I desperately wanted to burst open and pour out all my thoughts, feelings and anxieties but I resisted. I resisted even in the presence of someone with no personal connection to my past or present circumstances or any personal bias. I resisted because I was afraid that someone would finally see me for who I really am rather than the mask I flash before them. Someone could unearth the interred remains of an identity I desperately tried to suppress and stifle ages long ago. For what more terrifying monsters lie in wait for us than the visage of our most repulsive and impulsive selves? Am I subhuman? A monster? Selfish? Greedy? Lusty? Unabashed? Impetuous? Immoral? Deceptive?

Later, I began an uncomfortable conversation with myself in hopes of alleviating some of the internal strife only to unravel further the tangled, mangled mess and catch fleeting glimpses of a new identity with complex and apparently contradictory beliefs and values. Who am I? Who have I become? Why do I continue to resist knowing full well the repercussions of isolation?

Work Out

Today I felt really sick in the morning. I felt nauseous and queasy and just gross. I thought I was going to throw up but I didn't. After a quick lunch, we went shopping for a few items and headed to school. There was a percussionist featured in today's recital and he was amazing. After class, I dropped off my husband at work and picked up my son from school. We were supposed to go out shopping for new school shoes but I felt really lethargic, weak and I had a headache so I decided to take a nap. On top of that, I was stressed out because I haven't finished my weekly Chemistry assignments. I've been procrastinating a lot lately and it's catching up with me quickly. I don't know what to do first and sometimes I feel so horrible about it that I just can't think. I don't know why I'm reacting that way to stress, I'm normally quite capable and clear-headed, even fatigued or under pressure. Today I must have needed a nap because when I woke up, I started up in a fury and completed sections to the review study questions then I finished the terminology paper. Honestly I can't say that it has completely absorbed into my brain but I think I know enough of the terms that I can skate by. I should really study but I'm also overwhelmed with violin technique, repertoire, jazz conceptions, and standards that I can't focus too much on one. My instructor advised me to just spend a few minutes on each piece so I'm not reading but not more than ten minutes a day otherwise I run the risk of getting side-tracked by one composition and not giving enough attention to everything. I need to break my study and practice sessions into short fifteen minute bursts.

Unanswered Queries

This morning I had a few errands to run before  I could go biking but I finally made it out of the house and headed to Lindsley Park. I had a weird dream about something or other but the most interesting thing so far are the confetti egg remnants around my perch.

There's confetti, flour and crushed eggshells everywhere! A small part of me is a bit grossed out by the eggshells but, mostly, I'm amused. I didn't know that anyone still played with confetti eggs or, even more fascinating, that people still go through the trouble of making them. It's notoriously tedious and time consuming.
I remember mom used to prepare weeks in advance. She would start collecting, cleaning and coloring eggs as early as February, or January, if she anticipated an egg shortage. To this day, I don't know who keeps track of egg production and consumption like she did (except for maybe commodities brokers who invest in eggs and whose livelihoods' depend on it) or how one goes about this task. WTF, mom?
I still don't know how she managed to cut such a uniform hole without shattering the eggs, or how she found the time to wash, color and fill them with colored paper confetti and flour! How she loved seeing us play with them! She really loved Easter festivities and I don't know if there was another occasion that she enjoyed as much.
These past few weeks have been stressful. Our trip to India was postponed, Purandar Acharya is throwing himself into this work, I'm biking to fill the extra time, Chandaneswar is focusing on his health and diet and Krishna Chandra seems perfectly content without his electronic devices. (He lost privileges a couple weeks back) He's almost too happy and content with out them. I mean, how will I punish him if he misbehaves? I could take his bike privileges but truly it would hurt me as much as him. I love riding together. It's the most fun we have whether we're alone or together. I really enjoy it and it gives us a great excuse to go outside at a moment's notice.
Yesterday, Chandaneswar, Purandar Acharya and I were watching a Bengali film named Kaler Rakhal but only the first hour and a half was available on YouTube. I'm so upset because there are a couple of Baul songs that I love but they're on the second half of the film. I've been searching everywhere for it with no luck. Where can it be??
Well, we're probably going to India this summer but I'm upset that we won't be able to travel with Lokojit prabhu. He's the best travel guide ever and knows all the best spots and people. At least we still have each other. I feel like we're desperately clinging to each other now more than ever before. I feel lost and alone adrift an ocean of anxiety but my raft mates keep my company and sanity. I don't know what I would be with out them. I don't know where I would be without them. I don't who I would be without them. Sometimes I think to myself, "Renounce this lifestyle and give yourself completely to Gauranga!"
What shall become of us, Thakur?

Winter Adventure

Lonely Plains

There is nothing but lonesome empty plains as far as the eyes can see as we enter the Texas landscape. Gone are the regal red rock mountains and rugged terrain of Arizona and New Mexico. Why, the very sight of the gentle slopes and fields signal my imminent arrival back home. I am relaxed and poised as I arrive in my home state. It isn’t as if I was unwelcome elsewhere, but something about Texas welcomes me, soothes me, and lulls me into a restful state.

Last night I had a strange dream that broke me from my sleep. When I awoke, I realized that I had the same dream before, except this time I couldn’t recall the exact details. While I wanted to disclose the entire dream, I could only recall a few things and those caused me shame so I didn’t tell my husband. At last, I told him that I was startled awake but that I couldn’t remember why.  Interestingly enough, he told me that he had a strange dream that was also identical to a previous dream, almost a year old.

My dream went something like this: we were traveling en masse throughout India on pilgrimage; this isn’t unusual as we have plans to travel to India soon. Around that time, a young handsome man seduced me and to atone for my sinful thoughts I resolved to shave my head and give up any semblance aisvarya or opulence. This detail is also striking because for years, I contemplated monasticism and a few years ago I grew obsessed with shaving my head much to Chandaneswar’s protest. A few days ago, Chandaneswar mentioned that we were going to visit Thirupati Balaji and I could shave my head there if I still wanted to do it. Anyhow…

In the dream,  I removed my precious gems and metals and dressed myself only in simple cloth. Thereafter, I decorated myself with tilak, sacred clay markings upon my upper body and asked my husband’s blessings to perform penance. He indicated that he would not give me his blessings because he felt that it was unnecessary for me to atone for a mere mental lapse in chastity. After lecturing me on the nature of Kali Yuga, the age of quarrel and hypocrisy, he advised me to forgive myself and move forward with my spirituality with greater enthusiasm but not to remove myself from society or take to asceticism or renunciation.

At this point, I argued that if I remained in society and continued to associate freely with materialistic society, it was possible or very likely that the quality and sincerity of my spiritual endeavors would slowly deteriorate over time.

I added that if one man had so easily tempted me after only a passing encounter, it was highly probable that I would be weaker in more trying circumstances. To that, he countered that everyone in Kali Yuga commits sins by mind and we should neglect them. After some discussion, we both decided to take to renunciation and travel together.  Strange dream, no?

What Shall I Do?

The other day I looked into your eyes and wondered if they had any end. Where do you come from, dear one, and how were you created? From which materials did the Creator fashion you that rendered you immensely and intensely sweet and tender?

How can I understand your mind? Have you anything else in your heart besides inherent saintliness and compassion for fallen souls such as me? My Liege, bestow your warm embrace and poised grace upon me!

The Grief of Separation

Do you know what happened to me? Do you want to know what happened to me? Let me tell you... it wasn't pretty. I woke up around 11pm or so... (when I say "woke up" I mean, I laid in bed for hours trying to fall asleep). I was thinking and pondering about what might happen on the trips, what I'll need to pack, and my heart started pounding. I mean it was pounding out of my chest until I eventually got up and started pacing the house. The more I paced, the more racing thoughts occurred, the more anxious I became, the faster my heart raced. I didn't want to go on this trip to India and I really wasn't even sure if I wanted to hangout with Purandar Acharya so much, what to speak of this whole 'one-roadtrip-per-week' nonsense. How much can one drive in a month? I mean, that's the only time we have left together.
And then it happened.
I don't think I've ever told you about it; I may have alluded to it, hinted at it, beat around the damn bush, but I haven't ever given you the details because the details are excruciating. My heart started to race along with my thoughts and so it continued until I couldn't keep track of my own mind. Suddenly the flood gates were open and every possible disastrous end that could happen troubled my anxiety-addled mind. I started to panic. I couldn't breath, I couldn't sit, I couldn't even think straight. I wanted to stop myself. I wanted to slap myself across the face and tell myself to calm the fuck down... but I couldn't. Could I?
So I checked my blood pressure because unlike most people, I still have the intellectual aptitude to think my way out of this whole debacle, right? I'm superwoman. Fuck this panic attack.
I checked it three times, each time hoping that it would come down and it did, with the help of pranayam and mantras. I chanted silently as to not wake the men-folk. They weren't capable of talking me down, they would only get in the way. Except, it did wake one of the men-folk-- Chandaneswar-- and he asked me what was going on. Naturally, he assumed that my blood sugar or blood pressure dropped (he says I have un usually calm demeanor) so he advised me to drink sugar water or some electrolytes but I couldn't entertain his nonsensical idea because I was fully engaged in  panic mode. I calmed myself down with more deep breathing and chanting in lotus position until I was "nearing" normal range. I stayed in meditation for some time actually, and when I got down to the bottom, I realized why I was terrified.
I wasn't scared of the trip. I wasn't worried about what to pack, or that it was last-minute, or that my passport wasn't here or that I needed to transfer my Indian visa.. none of that shit mattered, only time mattered. I knew in my heart that we were running out of time. We were out of time and I was very much in love with Purandar prabhu. I mean, at this point, it's excruciating for me to realize just how much he means to me. Much like a young girl is crushed when she is separated from her lover, I was obliterated inside. I all saw was darkness and all I felt was solitude. At that time I started to sob and cry and wail like a damn child. I knew I might not see him again, except for rare trips to India. But what of it? Who cares, right? Except... if I'm this crushed and torn about it, I imagine Chandaneswar is a thousand times that. If Purandar was this important and dear to me, he's a thousand times more important to and bonded with Chandaneswar. So, if I'm in love with Purandar prabhu, Chandaneswar and Purandar are eternal soul-mates, lovers. I even joke that Purandar is Chandaneswar's first true love. I know he will just about die of grief when Purandar leaves. I'll die of grief as well, but Chandaneswar is well, I don't know how to explain it. They're soul mates, best friends, brothers. Chandaneswar told me to hold it in just a while longer. "If you get depressed, he'll get depressed and this whole time will be miserable for everyone. Be strong until he leaves, then you can cry."
As I sobbed and cried into Chandaneswar's shoulders and ruminated over how we would return back empty-handed and heavy-hearted, I meditated on the Supreme Lord. I begged and pleaded with Sri Nityananda Ray and asked Him what would become of us. "If Purandar leaves us, I'll die. I'll die of separation. Prabhu, help me. If he goes, I'll go to India too and I'll just follow prabhu wherever he goes. I'll be the annoying little sister he couldn't have. I'll be good, Thakur; make it happen, please." When I disclosed my thoughts to Chandaneswar prabhu, his only reply was, "If you leave me here, then I'll leave too."
Today my friend came to the house and confided the very same thoughts, almost in tears, "If Purandar leaves, you can't stay here, Chandaneswar can't stay here. They're too close, like lovers. You'll leave to India, and then Chandaneswar will leave to India, and I'll be alone."
And so the cycle continues. 

Five Strange Dreams

This past week I've had a series of dreams that are disturbing, weird, freaky, or just hilarious. I promise you that each was rich in overwhelming detail and if I were to indulge you with it, I'd be able to write a few short stories out of them. I am even considering doing the same and illustrating some of the vividly grotesque and enchanting images therein. Here is a list of dreams I had this past week, mind you, this is only about five... I have two or three dreams a night and these are just the ones I can recall great detail. There are others that weren't as memorable because they lacked shock value and captivating imagery.
I had a dream that I performed a marriage ceremony with an animal sacrifice ritual.
I had a dream that I was lactating suddenly after cuddling my son and talking about babies.
I had a dream that I was a work-study student and found an abandoned infant in the bathroom.
I had a dream that I was on a medical university campus and my car was stolen from the parking lot.
I had a dream that I took a married man's sexual advancements under consideration.

Interested yet? Yes? I'll tell you what happened in each of these dreams, and since they're so long and detailed, I'll do my best to be concise.

Dream 1: The Marriage Sacrifice
I stood atop a desert canyon covered in succulents and rocks with a young couple; we all wore pure white cotton cloth. I held a mantra manuscript in my own handwriting, the couple held fertility symbols: a venomous snake and an apple tree. I chanted some mantras, held their hands in my own and declared them lawfully married. Nearby lay a machete, some bronze-ware pots and dark soil. I proceed to chant sacrificial mantras over the items, provoke the cobra, kill it with my machete, and transplant the tree with the upper third of the snake's body lightly buried into the pot. The blood of the victim rejuvenated the soil, his eye peered straight out, and his body stood erect with his hood fully expanded as if he were guarding the tree. I skinned the lower two-thirds of the snake and adorned the bride with the snakeskin. I filled a bronze pot with soil, sprinkled it with blood, buried the remains, and sent them on their way with their nuptials. The entire ceremony lasted less than an hour.

Dream 2: Spilled Milk
Krishna Chandra and I sat on our bed comfortably and talked about babies at length. He asked me if I wanted more children, and I told him that I only wanted a child if she was a perfect replica of him-- intelligent, affectionate, generous, warm and understanding. I reminisced about his infancy, held him close to my breasts and kissed his beautiful face. I told him how wondrous those days were, how happy he made me, and I shed tears of joy as I gazed into his tender eyes. Immediately, I felt my breasts tingle, swell, and feel wet. When I asked him to move his head from my chest, my swollen breast fell out of my blouse and sprayed milk. He was surprised and in awe, "Is it milk?" he asked. I asked him to taste it, and he exclaimed it was the sweetest milk he ever tasted. Unbearably swollen, Krishna Chandra milked and massaged my breasts while I gushed milk all over his face. He giggled and laughed like a baby, jumped up and down upon the bed, and I beamed with happiness. I told him that my overwhelming love and affection for him brought on this phenomenon.

Dream 3: The Orphan
I was on work-study program at a prestigious university campus where I studied music. The other students mostly left for the day; we had a performance the next morning and I was in charge of cleaning the hall and bathrooms for the concert. The director of the music department left me only a single key, he warned, "All the doors will lock behind you except the bathroom, you must lock them yourself." I understood my charge and got to work quickly by first spraying the hard surfaces in the restroom and left to vacuum the hall. When I returned, I gathered the trash bags, replaced them, and wiped the disinfectant from all the hard surfaces. As I neared the last stall, I noticed a staircase leading to the ceiling. It must have been part of the old structure because the attic was sealed shut and the stairs led nowhere. At the top of the narrow stairs was a bundle of laundry, and it appeared to move slightly. I went up the ladder and grabbed the linens. It was an abandoned newborn, umbilical cord still intact. I called campus police, informed the director, and tried to calm the now crying infant. They said I needed child services and no one on campus offered me any further help. I saw a couple students and prodded them for information. No one had information, but the students enthusiastically helped me care for the baby girl.

Dream 4: I was on tour at a medical university campus. I was indecisive about my plans but heard the school had a great program that interested me. I drove my little Honda to the campus with my family, dropped them off at the auditorium, and left to park the car. I circled around the parking lot like a vulture waiting for a carcass to pick, but at least they had covered garage parking. Finally, I parked near the hospital, and left excitedly toward our rendezvous point. Chandan and Krishna Chandra had fun in the student center playing games, snacking, and interacting with other families. When I reached, the boys said they made up their mind: they loved the campus and I was applying ASAP, end of story. The tour no longer interested them, they had ventured off with some student volunteers and gotten the low-down. "Let me finish this game and we can be home in time for dinner." said Chandan. "Sure... is that okay with you sona?" Krishna Chandra agreed, I could go pull the car around while they finished their chess game. A few of the other attendants laughed and said they wished their relatives were as supportive and eager about their decision. Happily, I set off; as I neared my space, I looked around in confusion. I spotted a young man I recognized, an old friend and asked him if he could help. "Strange, are you sure you're on the right level?" "Of course. I parked right here in front of the hospital driveway; I remember this space exactly." He helped me call the campus security, and I gave my car's description. I walked back to tell the boys what happened. They came out and helped comb the parking lots.

Dream 5: I was on vacation with my family on the beach where I met an older, handsome, charming man. He was very debonair, the type that you see in old classic films, perfectly coiffed and charismatically witty. He told me he was also on vacation with his family, but he was restless and bored. I caught his eye, he told me we could have an affair as perfect strangers and never see each other again. At first, I was offended by his offer, but he asked me to sleep on it and reconsider. He was staying at the same hotel, gave me his room number, and assured me he could keep a secret. No one ever has to know about our tryst. As the day passed, I soon forgot about the man, and filled the day socializing and enjoying my friend's and family's company. When I got back to my room, I found a cryptic post-it note with a number, no name, no detail, no further information. It was him! His brazen audacity shocked me; what if my husband had suspected something? It kept me up at night and I tossed and turned until I finally began to relent. "Maybe?" 

Anxiously Awaiting You

I saw you again today. I had almost forgotten all about you, and put you out of my mind when I saw you again. My mind was thoroughly exhausted today. I was blank, empty and alone but then I spotted your lovely face. I wanted to turn around and run to you, hug you, kiss you, embrace you, and tell you everything. I wanted to gush out all my thoughts, feelings and emotions. I wanted to cry in your arms and tell you how I missed seeing you around. I wanted to scream in happiness and jump for joy simultaneously. Alas, I don't think you felt the same, or at least, you were good at hiding it. I don't know whether you even recognize me anymore. Have you forgotten all about me? I know I haven't. I don't want to forget you ever again, darling. Please don't ever leave me again. You have no idea how intensely I've missed you and craved seeing you and hearing you. Why can't we just see each other on the side? We could sneak out at night and rendezvous in confidential meeting places. We could hold each other near and whisper all the deepest longings of our hearts. I'm left here panting and panicking over you, and you hardly notice me at all.

I'd Like To Say

I've spent my entire weekend reading, writing, and revising my psychology paper about correlational studies on anxiety disorders and suicidal ideation and suicide attempts. While i thought the information shows an overwhelming correlation between baseline anxiety disorder and suicide risk, I also felt that there needed to be more research on comorbidity within anxiety, mood, substance abuse, and personality disorder because comorbid disorders show the highest risk for suicidal behavior and strongest correlation in suicide attempts. Only about 10% of suicides are attributable to anxiety disorders, but this number is still significant. This is to say the research is invaluable, but moreover I think there should be further studies researching specific anxiety symptoms, cognitions, and behaviors, so clinicians would better serve their patients in managing and treating their disorders.
Another thing, PTSD has the strongest correlation to suicide risk, and this should be another longitudinal study in itself due to the high volume of veterans returning home from the war. There will be ample populations to study, and if comorbidity is present, researchers to focus on finding specific blah blah blah. My brain has shut off.
On another note, psychological autopsies should be improved, there needs to be a more effective method of quantifying the percentage of anxiety-related suicides, and investigating the mechanisms of anxiety symptoms and their effect on sufferers.

Marjanam

Today was the Gundica Marjan festival at our local temple. Appropriately, I'm in the process of cleaning house. Yesterday I organized & sorted saris with the help of a close friend. I'm giving away dozens of outfits (again); I feel compelled to change my physical appearance, identity, and style. Not only that, but I feel like the exterior is symptomatic of something I feel deep inside. I'm transforming and undergoing a metamorphosis. I've felt this way a lot this past decade but sometimes I feel like I'm going in circles. (I'm constantly enduring painful growth spurts) Why do I feel this way, even after ten years of conscious endeavor toward growth? I'm starting to feel like there is something I'm missing or skipping. I've been feeling more open and forthcoming lately but I also really raw & emotional. I don't like feeling raw & emotional because it's powerfully overwhelming to me. I find myself feeling insecure at times & when I try to analyze those feelings, I get frustrated or feel self-conscious. What's going on? I suppose the only thing to do is surrender to those emotions and let myself feel them thoroughly. In fact, it may be cathartic to let them pass through me instead of holding back. I'm afraid though, and I'm more afraid of exploring these emotions. I find myself in prayer sometimes, distracted from the external world and begging my Lord and Lady for help.

"My Dear Kalachandji, please help me. 

Nobody can help me but You. 

Save me please, Lord, turn me into one of Sri Radha's loyal maidservants; 

I plead you, place me under Her care. 

O Devi, please guide my heart toward Your lotus feet! 

Please let me surrender to You and no one else. 

I have no other friend, no other shelter and no other recourse,

 but Your service, name, worship, and shelter. 

I beg of You, Goddess, save me from my wretched materialistic desires. 

Prepare me for Your Ladyship's service. You are my only resort."

Sacred Moments

The other day I smiled. I sat and smiled for no reason at all. I sat and smiled for the first time in what seems like an era. I could not help but gaze over at you and notice that you were also glancing at me. We smiled together. I felt immense joy and my heart was alight. We both conserved our joy within, but I saw it. I saw it! You tried to hold it in but the faintest glimmer of an ecstatic holler painted your beautiful face. I thank you. I thank you repeatedly. You have sent me plummeting through the darkest depths of the ether. You have sent me bounding into the brightest light of the moon. I cannot look back. I shall not look back. Every moment is sacred.

Dream motifs

After carefully analyzing my dreams, and interpreting them by incorporating the intuitive feelings and sensations I felt during the dream, I have come to the conclusion that my last dream about my emergency Cesarean section, hysterectomy, and extending recovery means that I am undergoing a painful, intensive purge in my life. Significant are the two fathers, one appears to be of a Latino/Asian ethnicity, while the second is African or African American, both of which bear strong resemblances to romantic partners from my past. Both are invested into a future with me, and fight to verify paternity to my child. I wonder if my subconscious is trying to draw attention to my romantic or sexual life, especially with all the symbolism of losing my femininity, power, or sexuality (female reproductive organs, tissue, and c-section). Throughout the dream I seem more anxious about recovery, healing, and completing my procedure. I repeat this to everyone I encounter, my doctor, nurses, lovers, rapist, and strangers in the hospital. I am disgusted by the sanitary conditions within the hospital, but fail to notice it during the initial surgery (Cesarean section, and partial hysterectomy). After encountering the hospital the second time, when my medication wears off, I realise how dirty, dilapidated, and unhygienic the hospital rooms are. Baby is alive but I don't seem concerned about my offspring's well being. I am more concerned about myself. Is my unconscious trying to tell me I spend too much time worrying about others, and place no priority on my own health and well being? Am I overly worried and preoccupied with trivial issues, or the other way around? Some questions are still unclear.Some of the imagery during the dream reminds me of the graphic self-portraiture of Frida Kahlo, perhaps I should explore those feelings of helplessness, hopelessness, powerlessness, and loss more thoroughly.

Emergency Procedure

Threw out my personal journals, in total chronicling approximately the past thirteen years of my life. Experiences with drugs, sex, spirituality, dreams, and loss that were integral to my spiritual, emotional, and psychological growth are all gone.
A strange dream, not yet analyzed:
I'm heavily pregnant at a music event when I collapse, and an ambulance is called for me. As I arrive at the hospital my doctor approaches me with my information, and asks permission for surgery.
 The infant was delivered via emergency cesarean, as my life was in danger. My doctor assured me it was necessary, and I would be alright after the hysterectomy. I seemed un-phased by the loss of my sexual and reproductive organs. My womb was empty, no baby, no organs, and yet left the hospital to search for two possible fathers at the outdoor concert. I urged them both to hurry back to the hospital; additionally, I mentioned that my surgery was incomplete, and I needed to heal. As we arrive at the hospital, my drugs are wearing off, and I notice how unsanitary and contaminated the hospital beds are. The walls are dirty, floors covered in stained rags, there is exposed metal, wires, and crawl spaces throughout the hospital. Paternity and medical background checks for both men, they are more than agreeable.
Instruments were still inside me, and I could feel a hunk of metal inside my pelvis. I search the hospital for my surgeon in an attempt to complete the procedure and remove the re-tractors that are holding my remaining organs in place. A man approaches me in the hospital, and I could sense he was a sinister and wicked man. He attempted to sexually assault me, but instead of fighting him, I spoke to him calmly. I told him that he could try to rape me, but I had no female organs so I was not really a woman. I was just a shell of a woman, and I could potentially die from internal bleeding. It wouldn't be very appetizing, I suggested.
He seemed hesitant, as if he was disgusted by me. I took advantage of his indecision, and attacked him while he had his guard down. I gouged his left eye with my thumbs, then his right, then struck him repeatedly before ripping the left optic nerve from his eye socket, and squished it around in my hand. I felt delightful pleasure at the prospect of doing it again. "This will be fun. Again!" He writhed in pain from the shock and expired slowly. I stood there for a long time contemplating what else I could potentially do. I didn't have time, I had to find the surgeon, complete the surgery, and get back to the pressing issues in my life. I had two men in a heated battle over me and the newborn. Who would win? I did not care in the least, and I remained un-invested.

Spiritual Intonation

Lately I have been contemplating my life more carefully, and sometimes it feels like Krishna has different plans for me entirely. I have been very social lately; I have forged new friendships and cultivated those relationships. Unfortunately, I have noticed a pattern that remains constant throughout. Whenever I attempt to forge closer relationships, the Lord, ever the expert arranger, shatters my expectations and hope.

I know that Srila Rupa Goswamipad says in Sri Upadeshamrita that we should cultivate loving relationships, reciprocate affection, and confide in other Vaishnavas. However, I have experienced that typically, they are the ones that break my heart and hurt me the most. I can only liken it to fine-tuning an instrument, or adjusting a signal or radio frequency. Usually, you can hear a slight dissonance when your instrument is out of tune. You attempt to fine-tune your instrument, or focus the signal, and usually, after a few attempts, you can have a clear, focused, and strong sound or signal.

When I first met devotees, I thought they were amazing individuals; they were impressive personalities: charming, loving, and wise. Some of them even struck me as perfected souls, enlightened representatives of the Lord sent to show compassion and love.I saw flickering images of their personality and character. As I tried to focus or strengthen relationships with with them, however, I have only received heartache and pain. I notice that they are flawed, hurtful, and selfish individuals just like ordinary materialistic men.

Perhaps I simply picked up the wrong frequency, but I fear that I set my expectations too high. I misconstrued the flickers and glimpses. I saw glimpses of a life, persona, or character that were just a farce. Just as an actor in a drama plays a romanticized and idealized hero based on fantasy and loft, they were fictional roles. The closer I move in, I feel, the more distorted, depraved, and grotesque the image. The more I am frightened, repulsed, and appalled. The more I retreat, or feel pushed away. Am I simply picking up interference? Adjusting the wrong frequency?  

One realization is comforting, although it does not alleviate my emotional anguish. I know He is the only constant, loyal, and loving friend. Everything and everyone else crumbles beneath His lotus feet. Everything erodes, dissolves, and dissipates-- only Krishna remains.

The Jammin' Professor

Final exams are coming up; I am excited because I have prepared myself ahead of time. I still want to review some stuff for algebra. My jury is on the sixth, which means I have to practice, and focus more on violin. Unfortunately, I concentrate on academics more than music these days. I need to find the right balance.

A vacation is the most exciting prospect for me this winter. I cannot decide where I would like to go, but I know India probably is not feasible. I need to get some rest as soon as possible. I might take a week off with friends just to relax a bit and enjoy myself. I cannot wait until I have something to relay back to friends and family. I have plans to use a new sewing machine I recently inherited this winter, if nothing else. I have not really done any sewing with it, but I am anxious to get to it. Among my priority sewing projects are outfits for deities. I would like to sew a set each for smaller Gaura-Nitai and larger Jagannath Baladev Subhadra deities.

Today I got a compliment back from a peer who said I was always having adventures, and had something interesting to say. I like that. I like having adventures. Adventure suits me. I get into funny, awkward, or just strange situations sometimes. While normally these things might bother me, nowadays I just roll with the punches, go with the flow, and laugh at myself when necessary. Everything is funny when you take your head out of your ass and laugh.

I had a silly dream last night involving my English professor. I was in a frenzy to speak privately with her, but it just was not a good time for her. She told me several times, "Madri, this isn't a good time for me. Can you come during office hours? Make an appointment." and so on. I would not have it though. I demanded "me" time urgently. I followed her into her next class, she sat down, and the professor (not her) started up his boom box, with a personally mixed tape of Mariachi, Banda, and Norteno music. Apparently my professor was taking a course at the college for fun, with this quirky guy at the wheel. The professor was a very tall, handsome, older black man. He was wearing a funny blazer with elbow patches that he promptly removed. He pulled out his drum pad and drumsticks, and started to jam out with the Mexican music while singing along. It was so captivating that I forgot about my urgent ordeal, and listened dumbfounded to the hysterical professor.

Resolute

This week I visited an academic advisor to help me decipher the course numbers on the Music Therapy degree plan, and now I know which courses correspond to those at TWU. Now, I can plan my schedule, get as many academic and music courses completed at my community college, and make some progress toward my desired degree. On other news, I am doing really well in History, Math, and English, and I am proud of myself. I thought History would sink me for sure, but I stuck with it and worked hard. I have not really practiced for Aural Skills this past week at all. I was too busy working on my last History essay, and it drained me of every drop of energy. 

Damodar month is slowly ending, and each day I feel like I am making spiritual progress. I have made new friends this month, and re-established lost connections with old friends. Sometimes I wonder if I make my relationships complicated intentionally. I do not know why I do it, but I know that it is very hard for me to trust people. Sometimes, I go out of my way to hide, and even push people away. I feel like only Krishna knows me, the real me, and that I can only trust Him and no one else. I do not know if this is right or wrong, or if it is the symptom of spiritual maturity or simply a defense mechanism due to false ego. However, I know that the scriptures say that our ultimate goal is Krishna, we should find no other shelter except Him, and until we have realized that all is in vain in the material sphere, we cannot progress into a special, spiritual relationship with Him. I guess that although I understand that Krishna is the Supreme Lord, the ultimate shelter and eternal friend, I still wonder if there is a special purpose for me on this planet. There is a reason Krishna gave me these particular skills, talents, and abilities. There is a reason Krishna has put me in this environment, with certain people, exposed to particular circumstances. I know there is not just chaos, but that I can learn a lesson from this. I am trying my best to seek out new experiences actively, to learn from my experiences, and capitalize on what I have learned. In order to do that though, I have to hone every skill in my possession. I cannot hide from myself anymore, either. I have to expose what I have been hiding from myself resolutely.

I pray constantly that Lord Balaram give me strength to pursue the unfathomable path of devotion. I cannot weather the obstacles and trials alone; no, I need special guidance and loving care from a nurturing spiritual master.