Birthday in San Miguel, 2010

I was born 47 years and 15 hours ago on September 15th, 1963 at 11:46 PM.  I’ve always thought that if you were born within 15 minutes of midnight on your birthday that you should be able to celebrate both days according to the bylaws laid down by the “birthday police”.  Of course this potency has been greatly diffused by those who believe in birthday weeks and birthday months, so on another level, what does it matter?! I cannot say what I knew and didn’t know, or thought and didn’t think about the possibilities of my life back then, but I’m sure that the storyline was quite different from the way things panned out. Yeah, I could never have seen this life comming~
Where is the line between wanting and wishing and intending and hoping so much to bring certain things, certain experiences, into your reality, and then having the expereince where so much of it effortlessly rushes in that it actually becomes overwhwelming? From poverty consciousness, to abundance, to entitlement, to gluttony, to realignment, to forgiveness, to ease? The path gets even more labrynthine when you notice that any variety of moods and emotional states can accompany each one of these stages, including being conscious or unconscious about it all as we are travelling it. There are simply no right answers…or are there?
I look at my Facebook page to discover that over 100 people have taken the time to wish me happy birthday, some of them expected, some irrelevant, some downright surprising, but all were welcomed. The bottome line here is that it is wonderful to be seen, supported, and acknowledged, and toward that end I say a huge Thank You to each and every one who took the time to post me. Still it comes back to this, What did the bag of bones and flesh known as “I” who was busy discovering linoleum and carpet and dirt 47 years ago imagine that he would create with this existence…and have I succeeded yet?
A little over an hour from now we have tickets to go witness a bullfight…yes, a real and actual dance that ends in the killing of a bull. I have very mixed emotions about this, and perhaps even a judgement or two, despite the fact that almost every movie I see, especially American made, and including the comedies, has someone at least getting shot if not terminated in some other more barbaric fashion. The list of ironies and contradictions continues when you consider what a meat eater I am. Mostly chicken and fish but still. Even though I am a staunch believer in the thought that I should be willing and able to grow, stalk, hunt, and/or kill anything that I eat, I have made no real steps toward making it happen. So, what does that make me, in the scheme of things? Not really intended to be a make-wrong of myself or anyone else, it’s just something that I think we all might want to contemplate deeply during the approaching times of change.
Next up…”The Bullfight”

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~ by shamantrablog on September 19, 2010.