Montag, 21. September 2009

Going on

Again I think of - patting on my back - one of the more important thoughts of the last hours. The hygiene of the spirit, and of that place, and the care for that place, where I think to feel that the adjuster comes in.

I do think that the Urantia-Fellowship largely seems to consist of people "also" less aware of the inner equivalents of terms such as Indweller or Mystery Monitor. Honestly observing myselv, however, I have to admit that my understanding is vague, while my intuition of my correctness seems to be very high. I still wonder about this difference between "knowing of the adjuster" and "knowing of the adjuster". I'd like to talk with people being sure about him (possibly "Adjuster-Fusion-Candidates"), and at the same time I have a funny kind of fear that this might destroy something of the (non-)illusive world with the help of which I could create my picture of a being that knows "how to see beyond rebellion as a loner".

A young, but somehow experienced mother came to ask who's so agressively using the vacuum cleaner at 10 p.m. The only thing making noise at my floor is the computer. I imagine the natural noise level of the computer to be that of a hoover (well, to appear completely, I'd have to add that some people think that sometimes there might not be a difference). However, the lady does not deserve even only one of these noises. When a baby gets awake at that precious moment where the mother could need some rest, my jokes are fully out of place. I wish I had even more understanding of how to support young mothers, but I am trying to achieve it. I suggested her to knock at the neighbours wall (after I was not the right neighbour) to fight for her rights. Maybe I am too soft, when every young mother makes me want to hug her. Maybe I should imagine more of those myths of snarling and baring-their-teeth-husbands. Ah, friends, in modern european language, excuse me, boyfriends. Well, no, sorry again. Her husband is really sweet. I think that they are a really fine couple. I like them, actually, and I feel some sort of relief in the feeling that I do not only like her *phew* ...! :-)

There it was again, the other miracle I was thinking about.
A relationship!

S. stopped by at my place, while I was sitting outside in the early evening, we had a little talk until her son came. Sometimes I need to take care to really listen to her, when I look into her face. Also funny, how the person I really am would take much more time to be with her eyes, while the person I "appear to be like" nods and says some almost-intelligent thing. Hehe.. here I try to laugh about myself, a little more even trying not to hurt me with laughing :-)

*Sigh*

A diary is sooo healthy. And its ears are so sensitive. Sometimes I could imagine how it would be, if I tried to be so sensitive to a friend like a diary is to me. Is there something like over-adapting? I mean, do I not risk much of that I adapt so much like noone is turning adapting back to me? Or is this a matter of beginning?

I want to wander off the topic another time...

(After telling that, because of being too lazy (joyful), I had the feeling of having dry skin, hands, helping myself with some tea :-) ..)

... well, I just wanted to write some words of that this warm feeling in my tummy is something asking me to "follow its antennas" ... where are its sensors?

The positive of the Job today was that I could really begin and end in time, almost. I had some "true free resources" (wow: TFR's) by just beginning in time. Hehe, however, there's a new EU-stress factor (EU referring to stress-streams in the context of globalization, har har): All these meticulous just-on-time patients are also already sitting there, when I come out. So, no time won? I love translating idioms seemingly not-so-very-correctly: The devil is sitting (very comfortably) in the detail ... ;-)

Something negative was that I just forgot to send an email to the boss when I returned home, while I promised to do so.

When I disposed the waste late in the evening, there was still light at S. and A.'s flat. I even thought I could recognize a female voice telling a story. Yesterday I discovered that on the east side, at night, one can hear the crickets...

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