09 November 2008

left of the rising sun


Of the ten directions, North is the one that draws me. Maybe it is from living on the coast my whole life that there is such a marked preference. Or maybe it is more than that. Driving North always beckons me to keep going, and driving South always beckons me to stop. I do not stop, usually, though, because I want the wanting to stop to stop. It has always been this way.

I have very bad insomnia, but if the head of my bed faces North I get better sleep. When I’m in distress, when it is completely unacceptable to be in my skin, driving helps, because it makes me feel as though I am on my way out of it. In these times, I seek the relief, the attraction, the magnet of North. I do not drive in any other direction unless it is to get to be driving North.

I think it is biochemically determined. Watches stop on me. Flashlights burn out if I hold them too long. Delicate machinery breaks down when I am near. It all seems to mean my magnetic field is strong... which follows, because I definitely have more electricity running me.

I long for a nice manly form of personal feng shui to get that sorted out for me, but the message of the cosmos seems to be: Deal with it. Deal with it yourself.

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