Houses In Motion #5 #6

My continuing story currently "under construction" for Facebook; with apologies for the problems I am having formatting this for this blog: hence the weird spacing.

Alexander Chow-Stuart: Monday August 25 2008

Houses In Motion #5

Monroe spent as much time as he could in the eternal world.

Often this, too, was at night, when he had time for silence, for stillness.

It took only a certain positioning of his body,

a release of its physical tension,

a clearing of the shifting and often opposing diametric flow of his thoughts,

to reach that ground that Eliot so perfectly described as:

“The still point of the turning world.”

 

Then Monroe was entirely within himself

or within the flow of time and organic material

that we think of as the world around us

and beyond that the universe.

 

But Monroe felt neither “within” nor alone.

He felt instead a vast space that he both inhabited

and that inhabited him.

And his living family, sleeping nearby,

and those who were no longer living

were all within reach, were presences as vivid to him now

as when he spoke to them or touched them during the day

or as when he had spoken to or touched them

when they were in his life and he in theirs.

Houses In Motion #6

And he found this immensely comforting:

that time and space were fluid,

that he could be here now

and elsewhere

(except that “here” and “elsewhere” were interchangeable)

and that love was like an electrical force

that bound together past present and future:

love was something he visualized as a great

web or cocoon of light or perhaps the tender touching

fingers of that electrical charge

(the specific image was immaterial)

reaching across all boundaries

through all time and space,

the one thing that truly bound us.

 

Two different houses:

The literal house and the shadow house;

The walls that enclose the space

And the space that encloses the walls.

"Two different houses surround you, 'round you."