“And as life began in the sea, so each of us begins his identical life in a miniature ocean within his mother’s womb.”
Rachel Carson
Around a week ago, I was mauled by an anxiety attack. All of a sudden, I became quietly uncomfortable in my skin. I know I have written about this before, usually when the assault on my senses has abated just enough for me to give it a name. The signs of its onslaught are unmistakable. Trivia becomes the boogeyman. Every single thing that happens, or could happen, is cause for worry. It is unrelenting.
When the ability to concentrate becomes an internal battle, when whispers morph into screams, it feels like drowning. Instead of sleeping, I am an unwilling, jack in the box, taken over by dark distractions. Will power succumbs to feelings of impotence, kidnapped by title waves of terror. OK, I am being a bit melodramatic. In other words, it sucks!
i remember when I was originally “diagnosed” as a gemini. I was somewhere in my early thirties, working at my fourth advertising agency. The best way to make more money in that world was to change jobs, rather than patiently waiting to be recognized and valued where you were. Florence was older than the rest of us and definitely had a story, a closet, leftist intellectual, living in the Village. Her passion was astrology, not something I thought about much. I decided to have her do my chart, which is all about extrapolating your life tendencies, based on your birthday and a bit more information. If you already know about it, I realize my short explanation is very weak.
I talked with her for quite a while, answering her questions about my history. It was really the first time I learned I had some serious juice. It was later described by an Ayurvedic healer as having a healthy dose of Qi, life energy. All of us harbor thoughts about ourself and that kind of recognition was an affirmation of my suspicions, which I’d never talked about with anyone. I figure at this point in my life, it is OK to share this. Believe me, I know this is about my feelings and not facts. Florence shared some things with me that were very powerful. Much of what she shared had to do with my being a gemini. We are kind of split in half, carrying on a life long, noetic dialogue with our selves.
I took the above astronomical side street, because it has everything to do with my being a writer, amongst other things.I don’t know how any of you operate, but I have always kept myself company with a running monologue that only I can hear, the gemini echo.
Now, let me tell you why I immediately grabbed that quote from Rachel Carson. For a split second, I thought she wrote it for me. I hope you know I would only recount something that I have managed to swim through, rather than still be drowning in it. I have to be able to make fun of myself and then I know I’m fine. It is important to me that you know that. I got this.
I don’t know what got me thinking about feeling small when I am feeling over powered by the fear phantom. It’s like being cast out into the ocean, feeling like a life raft getting pummeled by an ocean of demeaning accusations. All of a sudden, I started getting angry, my life being taken for granted, attacked by an array of negativity. It was like having a Popeye moment. I am saying to myself, “ Do you know who I am? I am Larry Feinstein and you’re not going to take me down.” All of sudden, it felt like I was building a fortress against the assaults of anxiety.
It is not like I thought about that and dropped it after writing it. It is staying with me and for good reason. You know, a remedy is not a cure. However, I really like the idea. I have been incredibly fortunate throughout my life and it counts for something. In a way, if you can make a remedy really last, it is kind of a cure.
I also like the idea of small vs. big, which I know I have written about somewhere and who cares? It is so easy to feel small in this unbounded ocean of our lives. Maybe, living on Kauai has unknowingly helped me along with this. I just this moment thought about it. I love spending time around the Nawiliwili Harbor, where I pretend to know what the fuck I am doing, easily mistaken for Hemingway, in my mind.
I think it is a really big deal for all of us, especially in those moments when we are feeling really little. Sure, I started thinking about this when I was getting rocked and I shared that above. We keep building and rebuilding ourselves by our actions and thoughts. This idea hit me a couple of days after starting this, rescued from drowning in the sea of life.
I have written about the Buddha for years. Only recently, I have begun to think of Zen as a kind of mental discipline, as opposed to a spiritual practice. The Big Guy just makes sense. The whole idea of the impermanence of everything, way beyond only ourselves is both liberating and dangerously debilitating, if you fall victim to it. I love the truth of karma, at least to me, right now. I don’t care about it in the context of future lives, coming back as a frog if you fuck up in this life.
I believe what you think, say and feel today, builds a one way bridge to tomorrow. The beginning of this story was about being stuck, just trying to dread water and not drown. As it progressed, it began to feel like swimming away from that whirlpool of woe. Now, here I am at the end of this confession of the soul and I feel a steadying power in my stroke. Karma is a way of recreating yourself, a platform to step off into tomorrow.
I can see the shore, adjusting to a new world and still finding my way.
Much Love.
PS: In the past three years, nearly 22,000 Palestinian children have been killed and more than 71,000 orphaned by Israeli attacks on Gaza. Every 71 minutes, a child dies there. As much as I love happy endings in my stories, they are very small. Genocide is very BIG.
LISTEN TO IT HERE:
https://www.buzzsprout.com/admin/1292459/episodes/19938097-the-sea-of-life