Wednesday, November 18, 2009

A Writer, Revealed

This ought not surprise you, and indeed one of the many disappointing things about living this long is how few things are actually surprising anymore. Greg’s legal problems were not a surprise to me, and that is sad. The revelations about Eddie were surprising but less so once I sat down and thought about it. Your ex and her issues were not a surprise but they are deeply disturbing. Like the assassination of JFK we would like to think there was some reason, some force behind what has happened but the truth might be as simple as there is just one very addled human being and that is all. It seems like there ought to be more to cause such drama but sometimes the most simple explanation is also the more likely explanation.

Sanity is a relevant term, as you have discovered on a very personal level. What the overwhelming majority of people would consider normal or sane, or well adjusted may simply be a state of inertia. Creativity comes with a price, but the price paid may very well be worth the sacrifice. Time will tell. I say to you your path chosen is neither easy nor straight, and none can foretell the future, however wise they may claim. But I also say your choice is honorable, and it is brave, and though the Universe has not always shown favor to either, I would have my heart judged true before I had my path judged certain. The Universe has no obligation to reward honor, or courage, but we humans do. I cannot imagine I will be of much use to you in this journey, but I offer what service I may be, to you, and to your family.

If you haven’t heard I was married for nine hundred and eighty-nine days, but I refer to it as seventeen dog years. Before I got married I had a sense of loneliness about my life, yet after the divorce, I very rarely have felt the need for constant human company. I have taken up the title of Hermit, and made it a lifestyle I have enjoyed quite well. I share my life with Giant Oaks, three mutts, and on rare occasion, humans. This should not surprise anyone, either. You, of all people, should remember there has never been a time when I fit well within any group of people, and more often than not was outcast from them. Perhaps you will understand it better now, but I would not have that understanding come to you at such cost.

My deepest suspicious about human beings is there are those who are born differently than others. In some, creativity in some form or fashion forbids the alliances and bonds humans form with one another, and in that stead is formed an understanding of a much different world. In various degrees does this creativity manifest itself. In various crafts will it be revealed. There may yet be arts in which we humans have not devised a method of revelation. This thought, be it correct even in the smallest degree, I bid you to keep counsel with, and true. Allow what to others seems madness and chaos, and from that discern what voice you may hear only with love. Your path, if I have heard you correctly, will not allow for anything less than this.

Writing has become who I am more than anything else ever was, or ever will be. It is my drug of choice, it is my couch, it is my light in the darkness, my one voice of stillness in the rage, and the only voice I have among the humans that can reach them. This should not surprise you, and if you think of it, it makes sense, considering who I have always been. Perhaps the Universe is all accident and happenchance, and perhaps things happen for some reason. But in the last two weeks three people from my deepest past have emerged and I cannot help but think the reason why will be revealed soon, if it has not already.

Take Care,
Mike

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