Seeing the Pride in the Park people set up their stuff, unexpectedly, because I hadn’t realized it was already the end of May.
Where has the time gone?
Anyway, I am finding that stalking the assemblage point position of the people there is something I can achieve with little effort. It’s very different from the deep empathy that I have habitually been experiencing with other conscious beings; wherein I totally merge with the other and percieve as if from their being. Stalking is different. It’s much more detached.
I observed a woman with a strange tension about her. She appeared to me to be all head. Like every movement of her body was first initiated by her head. He appeared stiff, tense, and unhappy. Her voice was loud and harsh, without resonance. Her barks were short, loud, and aggressive. It appeared to me as if something was deeply suppressed in her body and the head on top of it all attempted to control not only the outward appearance of energetic happiness, but to demand and command the body to feel it. Or else.
I observed another woman walking stiffly after a man who was walking more loosely with a young boy. The man and boy chatted together and the woman behind, bent forward at the hips, seemed to exude anger and frustration and shouted at them as she stiffly followed.
After that two obese middle aged women walked over the bridge. Their legs appeared to stick out from their bodies like those balloon animal legs do. Puffy, stiffly protruding at odd angles and without any limber flexibility whatever. They appeared to waddle, or shuffle, by swinging their legs from the hip, nine of the joints flexing or bending to take the significant weight of their bodies. They also appeared stiff-backed, like their shoulders were drawn back and down, and leading with chests and bellies. They appeared reactive, as if needing to scan with a dour expression to ward off any negativity or disapproval of any kind. An expectation of conflict hovered.
They all have at least some of these traits; a looking outside of oneself for the cause of what is “wrong”. Exclusively, or, nearly so. They had the development of an under seven; incapable of self awareness and of any responsibility for fault. Under sevens don’t have responsibility, of course. Everything is projected. Nothing they do, feel, or believe is in error. It simply isn’t possible for an under seven to have any other type of awareness. It hasn’t been developed yet.
Everything is projected to the external; everything internal is perfect, right, and flawless. I saw, over time, how a beautiful body can become decrepit and descend into chaos, dis-ease, and physical degeneration when no internal resistance is offered. It atrophies into rotting, sloughing, decomposing. The internal world becomes undifferentiated material, just like the refuse in a compost heap becomes undifferentated fertility. Itself it is not a life; it is only the container. The life force instead had been funneled up into the head, where it served whatever ideology (egregore)at the expense of the body’s legitimate needs.
I can’t help but observe that this is a more aggressive microcosm of the very social order that it allegedly is in conflict with.
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