Adventures in the Spirit World

by everlivingpoet

I haven’t been able to write for a few weeks, because I’m still going through the academic hazing process, or what I think of, when I’m feeling dramatic, as the Inquisition. It’s not that far-fetched for me to think of it that way – my grandmother knew Ernst Bloch, who in turn knew (and saved the works of), Kafka. The other day, too, I discovered a reference in Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway to a rich man who married his housemaid, which could, based on time and place, be a reference to my great-aunt and her husband, a scion of the Raphael Tuck and Sons greeting cards dynasty, sort of a British version of Hallmark, or something like that. Probably not.

Word is the family disowned them, wouldn’t lift a finger later to help them get out of Nazi Germany. We do have this weird family pattern of disowning each other. My mom’s youngest sister disowned her, for which my eldest brother never forgave her, but then he disowned me. All of this on the flimsiest of pretexts.

Forget all that.

Today it’s all about adventures in the spirit world. Not that I’ve been having many, unless this world is the spirit world in some bizarre sense. No doubt. But this is, and must be, part of my confession: I have had such adventures, and most of them completely without herbal assistance. Actually I find I’m not in the mood to talk about it. Let me just say this. If one really relaxes, one will see rain in the air where there is no rain. It’s like rain. Listen: there’s a wonderfully soft sound to it. I’ve been reading about the new proof of cosmic inflation, and learned that matter and light are thought to have parted company I think around 400,000 after the Big Bang. Well, I don’t know what that energy dancing in the air is. Spirit seems a possible explanation. If you haven’t noticed it yet, why not relax your preconceptions and see for yourself?