Saturday, October 23, 2004

With Me Wherever I Go's an excerpt from an up-n-comin' Kamikaze blogg chronicling Uncle Mike's formidable lecture last Wed at the house of Worship in Wilmette. Life and work are lovingly gettin' in the way of bloggin (god love it!)



It was a perfect trenchcoat earl-grey day in Wilmette. Leafy autumnal overcast, a tad blustery. Perfect. The hard-candy colored leaves rattled off the birch spines of nearby limbs. The overcast clouds shuffled in thick cobbled strides overhead. Occasionally a thin strip of glossed light would percolate from the marble swirl above. Perfect.

Uncle Mike stopped for props along the way to the House of Worship. Much to my chagrin, Mike (who Khanum herself deemed 'The Troubleshooter' during his stint in Hafai) purchased Halloween candy and a helium balloon with the words Happy Birthday scribbled on the front.

"Whose Birthday is it?" I naively asked.

"Day-vid!" Uncle Mike barked, shaking a ruffled expression of grief from his face before guffawing at my innocence.

"Oh," I said realizing what holy day it was. "I guess I just never though of birth being an actual 'birthday' before."

Mike handed me the balloon which made me upset. The last thing I want to do was to enter the House of Worship in Wilmette, a confetti stringed balloon attached to my paw.

"Mike," I said. "We're not going to ShowBiz. This looks ridiculous."

"Just take it down to the basement where the speech is. Nobody is going to say anything."

After dropping off the props I left Mike downstairs and meditated for a long time in the Temple. The 'Prayer for Ahmad' found it's way to my lips. I said the long healing prayer, praying that God would rid me of me ego; of my coifed pride. Prayed that God would loosen my anchored arrogance allowing me somehow to become the man I'm supposed to be.

I said the prayer for the departed. I said part of the Fire tablet. I lost my vision in the satellite doily above; watching in awe as the temple's dome turned inside out, convex to concave; while my vision hallucinated in mired myopia.

I said prayers for my beloved bloggsters. For Ace overseas who's assisted me immeasurably in deciphering my muse-dotted dreams (The way she holds me I never want to wake up,) and for Daniela, who lovingly refused to meditate with me on the phone the night before, "Mistuh D, you are so funny. I can't take anything you say seriously. You are so funny Mistuh D," *smiles* and for Arya, whose token of eternal friendship remained choked in my fist as I lowered my chin and uttered the greatest name.

I then left the temple and sauntered around the gardens.

-Continuation of eveyrthing you've ever wanted-


daku said...

Mistuh D, to meditate your mischiefs would be to tire out all the laughing muscles too much. Thank you for the prayers. I think they are workin wonderfully. The write up is lovely btw. Would love to hear Uncle Mike speak one day. Perhaps Aashiq's dreams will come true and all of us we have a reunion one day in Chicago (-:

Ace said...

it sounds like a wonderful experience.
Thank you for the prayers I do believe they have helped Brother D.
As Daniela said, *smiles* perhaps we shall all meet on a lovely blue sky day in Chicago as in my dreams. *smiles*

It's always been my pleasure to help you decipher your dreams. You do help me grow my wings so I can fly into the dream-translating realm from the dreamhunting one Brother D:).

David Von Behren said...

Love both you crazy bloggers, even more than I love the Red Sox!

Bhupatkar said...

Hi. This is my first visit to your blog. It's a little difficult to get the context and the details. But it sounds quite interesting and intriguing. Does it have to do with Kabbala? Pardon my naivete.