“Do you believe in life after delivery?”
‘Why, of course. There has to be something after delivery. Maybe we are here to prepare ourselves for what we will be later.’
“Nonsense. There is no life after delivery. What kind of life would that be?”
‘I don’t know, but there will be more light than here. Maybe we will walk with our legs and eat from our mouths. Maybe we will have other senses that we can’t understand now.’
“That is absurd. Walking is impossible. And eating with our mouths? Ridiculous! The umbilical cord supplies nutrition and everything we need. But the umbilical cord is so short. Life after delivery is to be logically excluded.”
‘Well I think there is something and maybe it’s different than it is here. Maybe we won’t need this physical cord anymore.’
“Nonsense. And moreover if there is life, then why has no one has ever come back from there? Delivery is the end of life, and in the after-delivery there is nothing but darkness and silence and oblivion. It takes us nowhere.”
‘Well, I don’t know, but certainly we will meet Mother and she will take care of us.’
“Mother? You actually believe in Mother? That’s laughable. If Mother exists then where is She now?”
‘She is all around us. We are surrounded by her. We are of Her. It is in Her that we live. Without Her this world would not and could not exist.’
“Well I don’t see Her, so it is only logical that She doesn’t exist.”
‘Sometimes, when you’re in silence and you focus and you really listen, you can perceive Her presence, and you can hear Her loving voice, calling down from above.’
– Útmutató a Léleknek
Tag: burning questions
When I was just a little girl…
Want to help me flesh out some specifics from a scene in my newest show? Please respond with what immediately comes to mind when presented with the phrase “Inner Child”. Mine was: Inconvenient asshole.
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“I know that love is unconditional. But I also know that it can be unpredictable, unexpected, uncontrollable, unbearable and strangely easy to mistake for loathing” – Neil Gaiman, Stardust
If London is a watercolor, New York is an oil painting.
“For in that city there is neurosis in the air which the inhabitants mistake for energy.” ― Evelyn Waugh The New York subway has its own distinctive scent, like a cocktail of black tar and metal shavings, that I immediately find familiar and comforting every time I retun. You’d think it would mostly smell like… Continue reading If London is a watercolor, New York is an oil painting.
Too close to see
Thanks to reviews and interviews from my mp3.com days, and the feedback you’ve given me over the years, I have a pretty good idea how to describe my original music to people who haven’t heard it. Most of the content of Embodied, though, not so much. How to describe my covers is a task that… Continue reading Too close to see
The Mask
My choreography for my (public, and for charity) performance on the 22nd is basically already written, and basically always was. Though I haven’t had the chance to perform my favorite act very often, I know it like the curve of my own hip. I also know whatever changes I do make, or whatever snafu’s happen… Continue reading The Mask
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Can be irritatingly, painfully hungry, and yet still too picky to choose what to eat. Does that seem right to you?
Namaste, suckers: My Qi Revolution experience
Friday, July 20, 2012: Packing for a 4-day, 36 hour Qigong seminar at the Tacoma Convention center. I am not bringing a laptop. Recently, along with about 425 other people, I trekked down to Tacoma to attend “Qi Revolution“, presented by Jeff Primack. The course is $99 and the CEU (continuing education credits, which are… Continue reading Namaste, suckers: My Qi Revolution experience
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You know, I often wonder what the ‘something’ that must be wrong with TJ’s brand food will end up being. Because really, it’s affordable, delicious and doesn’t have fake sweetener or HFCS or hydrogenated oils or ingredients I can’t pronounce. It appears to be simple, honest food at a fair price. Seriously, what am I… Continue reading Untitled