Author: Eden Bloom

It’s been extremely challenging to find my way to this page today. I’m in the middle of a newspaper deadline and the last thing that I want to do is spend more time in front of the screen.

Eventually I plan to have a handful of drafts that I can clean up and share when I’m dragging like this. I’m still writing even though I’m not feeling it because I made a commitment to do so.

And sometimes when I least feel like it is when I have the best writing experiences and or new and powerful ideas are born.

23

It has been good to post here daily. I’ve found my way to some new words and have been able to expose upon them. As I continue to process M & M, which is becoming extremely rich with meaning, I break from commentary  to observe the most immediate impact of removing social media from my daily existence.

First, the majority of time on my phone was spent on social media. With the apps deleted, my muscle memory still has me picking up my phone and looking for them. It is more noticeable when I’m first waking and when I am tired. I pick up my phone to see what’s happening and there’s nothing there.

While this blatant addictive behavior is embarrassing, the fact that I’m tuning into it more by going cold turkey is also a nod toward liberation and evolution. There is a potential that realizing how hooked you are can turn you off. I’m attempting to ride that one here. It does feel liberating to have moments that typically would be broadcast out to many remain private and personal, special and sacred.

Yesterday brought The Midwife and the Mortician and I’m exploring some thoughts on its meaning and my intention with the flow.

The Midwife and the Mortician

I am the sun,
you are the moon.

Together we’ve made a world
touching only in brief moments
across vast amounts of time.

You shape form, you wain, you wax,
I invoke the Solstice and Equinox.

Together we set the stage,
the lights, inform the scenes
in which our progeny play.

I am the death of the old way,
you are the birth of the new.

The midwife and mortician, together alone
uprooted everything to plant seeds,
not crosses, with these bones.

©Eden Bloom, Eschaton Life

I’m uncertain how to determine if death has been more present for me than others. The patriarch of my childhood family, my grandfather,  worked in a funeral home I frequented. I’ve written at length about both of my grandparents roles as psychopomps. This is an extension of that expression.

I was born on the winter solstice. The reference and energy here points toward order, wheel of the year. The solstice and equinox  establish the parameters of the playing field and denote the boundaries of my mental and physical geography/time/space.

There is that old SWANS song Goddamn the Sun that resonates here. Leather-clad, whiskey-drenched and sun cursing, the blazing sun as oppressive owner/all-father. While I resist attributing male/female energy to nature, here the sun is phallic and weaponized as both the seed and the sword.

Back up the tree tmrw.

I am the sun,
you are the moon.

Together we’ve made a world
touching only in brief moments
across vast amounts of time.

You shape form, you wain, you wax,
I invoke the Solstice and Equinox.

Together we set the stage,
the lights, inform the scenes
in which our progeny play.

I am the death of the old way,
you are the birth of the new.

The midwife and mortician, together alone
uprooted everything to plant seeds,
not crosses, with these bones.

©Eden Bloom, Eschaton Life

Moving back into everyday life.
Normalization, if that is what this is.
Re-indoctrination is more like it.

On the 3rd day it became a challenge to find my way to the page here. I write in my handwritten journal everyday, but that is for a different purpose than the words here. That writing counts immensely, but it does not count for this project.

As part of this project I’ve been meditating on gratitude. Specifically over the last day, I’ve been thinking about how a stance of gratitude can be used to gloss over issues and carry forward selfishly without concern for others. Thank you can be weirded as a machete to cut through any resistance.

There is a deeper gratitude, one that also exudes care and concern. It is a place I want to be able to go with more people, but its so beyond transactional, it seems a major shift. At least that’s how it is for me.

This post really captures that live journal feel I was going for here. LOL.