Things have been turning sour for me the last five or six days, and nobody gives a damn, and I'm not sure I care too much myself. All I needed was a short period of time when nobody showed up naked, nobody tried to sell me suspicious objects from underneath his coat; and nobody tried to kick in my door in a shrieking frenzy, screaming horrible things up from the lane out back.
There are times when a person has to say "no" to everyone and everything, sit in a comfortable chair and catch his breath. "Breathe," as a healer said to me recently. Breathe right
into the earth; take your shoes off and let your feet feel the earth. I did this back of the house, but then I saw two cars I recognized coming my way, so I had to duck back inside and play possum. I want to say that this breathing business works, and I'm going to try it again soon.
I have a thought: "Everybody hates me!" But what kind of twisted, pitiful thinking is this - not to say paranoid? Everybody might hate you from time to time, but it's highly unlikely that they all will turn the foul beacon of their hatred on you, at the same time.
It's highly unlikely that everyone's going to hate you/me at the same time for the simple reason that no one is important enough for everyone to think of at once, and therefore hate all at once. As my father said to me one time when I was sixteen, when he saw me staring at a pimple on my chin for a long time in the mirror: "you wouldn't worry so much about how you look, if you realized nobody is going to pay much attention to you anyway."
I had to think about that one.
When a wave of paranoia overtakes you when walking through a public place,
when you feel: "O God they're after me!" And you try desperately not to break out into a mad wild run, and flee through the mall... Maybe my father's advice will help: that people don't pay attention, and maybe it won't. But remember this saying of a famous psychologist: "Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean that someone isn't actually following you!"
The truth is, the editors back at the office of "The Talk of the Town Press", Bay City and
formerly of Ottawa told me I'd better lay off the Study of the Female Orgasm until they could look more deeply into the legal ramifications of the matter. "It's not so much the articles that we're worried about," Calvin tells me: "It's that the paper might actually be liable for 'the primitive methods' you employ in your field work'.
"Primitive methods are essential," I said.
Calvin held up his hand and said, "Let's talk another day. Today's been dark enough already."
And it was going to get darker.
My neighbour, Tim, dropped by and when I told him about the legal liability worries of the editors, he laughed!
"That's not the way I heard it!" he chuckled "I heard that two of the editors think you might be turning into a dangerous asshole! Writing about mysticism one week and sex the next." "The two subjects aren't really different at all. And every case was researched minutely. Everything really happened and was reported inconsiderable detail."
"It's the field work that worries them and your methods They feel the editors can be liable for putting you on such an assignment. Also, you're offending some of the wives."
Tim took off up the lane.
I sat on the steps to the lake, having dark thoughts.
All at once the full moon was emerging from behind a tall white pine tree. Suddenly a great howl called up right behind me, about 100 yards back.
"I hope that howls a dog and not the howl of the Wendigo calling me home," I thought.
The howl started up again. I could see the dog, right across the bay. "AAAAAAOOOOOOO!" I howled back. Then the dog replied. Then we howled together.
I could feel this primal scream therapy blowing out the cobwebs of my brain. I was feeling better already;I was feeling marvelous!
It's a primitive cure, but it works for me. The dogs across the lake started in, and I could see we were going to have a real party.There were fifteen or twenty dogs now. I could see the lights turn on one by one in the houses across the lake.
Primitive methods!
Sue me!
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