| Author: | Roger Golden Brown | ISBN: | 9781370628933 |
| Publisher: | Roger Golden Brown | Publication: | November 5, 2017 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords Edition | Language: | English |
| Author: | Roger Golden Brown |
| ISBN: | 9781370628933 |
| Publisher: | Roger Golden Brown |
| Publication: | November 5, 2017 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords Edition |
| Language: | English |
For over 20 years I wrote in journals, expressing feelings, waxing philosophic, and following threads of thoughts and emotions that lead me sometimes to understanding and sometimes to deeper quandaries.
Of course, the search for love and the desire to be close to women led to many writings in my journals. This book is the retelling of my encounters with a number of women in real time, being made up of journal entries in chronological order. Each encounter in this book is generally a period of time chronicled in my journals; some spanning a very short period of time, others longer. Most begin with entries setting the stage, as to where I am at, before the encounter and continue after as I seek resolution.
They do not include the “girlfriends” of my life; the relationships of some duration. Nor do they include all the women I have touched or who have touched me. They are, although “limited” in their duration and depth, none the less, relationships in which personal emotional patterns did play a role and which offered me opportunities to act and react with an improved self and to refine my behavior.
Prologue of Encounters, The Love and Sex Dance
These are encounters of the heart. Of this man’s heart.
Some of these encounters are also encounters of the body. Of this man’s body with a woman’s body.
Although it seems certain that in every encounter our hearts touched, that which I carried away was my heart alone. My heart alone to feel and allow.
These encounters always have context. This is life. With every encounter with another being, there is a personal encounter with myself; with my life. Likewise each encounter sprang from my life.
It is my nature and has always been my way to have a probing mind. I value curiosity and fascination. I hope always to find value and, ultimately, resolution (albeit naturally temporary) in experience. If not resolution, harmony at least.
I have tended to allow my body and my emotions and my feelings to turn on to what is attractive (in the purest sense of the word) to me. This has often led me to unmapped territory where I must use my wits and wisdom, my ideals and values, my words and those of others, and sometimes some tears to guide me safely through.
To allow the heart to lead is fraught with danger. With beautiful danger. Everything is broken up and dances. There are risks.
A ship is safe as long as it stays in port.
But that’s not what ships are built for.
Excerpt from Encounters, The Love and Sex Dance
Yesterday I, watching people in the city, was overwhelmed, with what a shame it is that cities aren’t great meeting places of souls; of people sharing and trying to unravel the mysteries and being vulnerable and admitting our neediness, instead of rats racing to work and errands and investing in the future.
I read Jim Morrison’s eyes last night. Yes we can look, but we cannot touch. Is it because we don’t believe we can handle it? Is touch plain and simply the focal point, the most magnificent trial on this plane?
I’m pissed and discouraged. And though my self value is low right now, still I know I should never compromise my desires. Never. The only fault in our (in my) desires is guilt. Because we don’t think we’re good enough to give it back, we don’t want to chance receiving it. - Oh, are you needy? Hey, not me. You got a problem. What?!! (shock) You admit you’re needy?! My responsibility then is too great. You’re like all the others. Take a hike, pal.
Christianity thrives on the same principal. Simple. Since I’m so incapable of loving; since I am “only human” and pitiful, I know I can do no miracles. All forms of magic and genius must be invalidated, so our idol remains intact and so there is and has been only One person ever who is capable of these things.
Boldness, psychological risk taking, belief that we are capable of changing our own lives, and ultimately belief that our hearts have the answer is bred out of us; trained away.
Strange Days, indeed.
For over 20 years I wrote in journals, expressing feelings, waxing philosophic, and following threads of thoughts and emotions that lead me sometimes to understanding and sometimes to deeper quandaries.
Of course, the search for love and the desire to be close to women led to many writings in my journals. This book is the retelling of my encounters with a number of women in real time, being made up of journal entries in chronological order. Each encounter in this book is generally a period of time chronicled in my journals; some spanning a very short period of time, others longer. Most begin with entries setting the stage, as to where I am at, before the encounter and continue after as I seek resolution.
They do not include the “girlfriends” of my life; the relationships of some duration. Nor do they include all the women I have touched or who have touched me. They are, although “limited” in their duration and depth, none the less, relationships in which personal emotional patterns did play a role and which offered me opportunities to act and react with an improved self and to refine my behavior.
Prologue of Encounters, The Love and Sex Dance
These are encounters of the heart. Of this man’s heart.
Some of these encounters are also encounters of the body. Of this man’s body with a woman’s body.
Although it seems certain that in every encounter our hearts touched, that which I carried away was my heart alone. My heart alone to feel and allow.
These encounters always have context. This is life. With every encounter with another being, there is a personal encounter with myself; with my life. Likewise each encounter sprang from my life.
It is my nature and has always been my way to have a probing mind. I value curiosity and fascination. I hope always to find value and, ultimately, resolution (albeit naturally temporary) in experience. If not resolution, harmony at least.
I have tended to allow my body and my emotions and my feelings to turn on to what is attractive (in the purest sense of the word) to me. This has often led me to unmapped territory where I must use my wits and wisdom, my ideals and values, my words and those of others, and sometimes some tears to guide me safely through.
To allow the heart to lead is fraught with danger. With beautiful danger. Everything is broken up and dances. There are risks.
A ship is safe as long as it stays in port.
But that’s not what ships are built for.
Excerpt from Encounters, The Love and Sex Dance
Yesterday I, watching people in the city, was overwhelmed, with what a shame it is that cities aren’t great meeting places of souls; of people sharing and trying to unravel the mysteries and being vulnerable and admitting our neediness, instead of rats racing to work and errands and investing in the future.
I read Jim Morrison’s eyes last night. Yes we can look, but we cannot touch. Is it because we don’t believe we can handle it? Is touch plain and simply the focal point, the most magnificent trial on this plane?
I’m pissed and discouraged. And though my self value is low right now, still I know I should never compromise my desires. Never. The only fault in our (in my) desires is guilt. Because we don’t think we’re good enough to give it back, we don’t want to chance receiving it. - Oh, are you needy? Hey, not me. You got a problem. What?!! (shock) You admit you’re needy?! My responsibility then is too great. You’re like all the others. Take a hike, pal.
Christianity thrives on the same principal. Simple. Since I’m so incapable of loving; since I am “only human” and pitiful, I know I can do no miracles. All forms of magic and genius must be invalidated, so our idol remains intact and so there is and has been only One person ever who is capable of these things.
Boldness, psychological risk taking, belief that we are capable of changing our own lives, and ultimately belief that our hearts have the answer is bred out of us; trained away.
Strange Days, indeed.
