Friday, 6 November 2015

Places Where I've Lived: Robson Street 3

My life took on a certain frenzied rhythm.  I had to move quickly and nimbly from situation to situation to situation, knowing well that one single misstep could be deadly.  I soon misstepped.  Several times.  The stress and constant frenzy and spiritual and emotional intensity I was living under had become a vindictive flame and it would soon devour me.  While D. stayed with me and drank and caroused and generally made life difficult and unpleasant for both of us I was caring for an elderly man sinking into the final stages of cancer.  In June 1986 my life became swallowed up in death as I worked twelve to sixteen hour days, with minimal support, caring for this man.  We became close with the strong fierce intimacy with which death binds strangers to each other.  He died soon after and D. left in a few days, claiming ironically that I was hard to live with.

Expo opened in May and I saw it as an affront against all I held sacred.  I still bought a three day pass in order to see what the fuss was about.  The planted areas were lovely but none of the pavilions were appealing to me except for the Ramses exhibit and this to me seemed to have brought with it all the dark spiritual baggage of Ancient Egypt.  I think Expo traumatized us.  It was overwhelming, all these visitors trampling underfoot our virgin city, the many poor people displaced by hotel upgrades for tourists and the nightly fireworks.  I could hear them exploding nearby from my apartment, like a nightly air raid.

I began to write poetry: strange and intense poetic prose in a blank page diary I had.  I will copy something here that I wrote August 16, 1986.  This should give an unedited view of the crazy and strange intensity I was living:

"I am very tired.  Something has indeed broken loose.  D. came over last night and we went to Benjamin's.  He ate, I didn't.  I must fast while involved in spiritual warfare.  D. and S. seemed quite taken by each other.  So far so good.  D. confirmed much of what I discerned of him.  He doesn't belong, yet he is needed here-a healer perhaps? We went to Stanley Park.  First to Lees Trail, where two cairns were repaired and rededicated: the first in intercession for Benjamin's-notably S., T, and M; the second for St. James, for D., myself, D, J, L and others.  Afterward, we went to the place of the desecration  I had already had a presentiment of where it would be, and I knew the place immediately, for I had been led to pray over the place a few weeks ago.  The sense of spiritual darkness was very heavy and oppressive.  We came across evidence of occult activity-strange placings of stones, singly or in pairs, and semi-circles and partial circles in the ground with cedar branches and suchlike.  Probably a coven has been meeting there.  I poured consecrated salt over the area as a rite of cleansing, followed by consecrated water as a rite of baptism and consecration.  Finally I took consecrated oil, and poured it out onto the ground as a symbol of healing and the anointing of the Holy Spirit.  We returned to Benjamin's so I could eat.  S. was still there.  It was a very good visit.  I walked with D. up Granville and went into the C.  Later I ran into M. with whom I returned to Benjamin's.  She spoke in lurid detail about two of her more bizarre tricks.  I am very concerned for her, yet feel she will be okay.  I sense a deep and precious bond forming between us.  I afterward went to N., where I saw S.  It was very good talking to him.  I hope to see him soon.  D. was there as well.  The Spirit led me to B where I ran into R.  Next Wednesday for getting together with L and I is fine with him.  Probably it will be at my place.  I saw B (pink hair) there as well.  At N I also saw J again, and F-both of whom I feel a certain concern for, especially James.  He is nineteen and claims to be straight.  While I'm taking him at his word it concerns me that he is spending so much time in a gay establishment as he has been and there may be some things he has yet to come to terms with.  I also saw T.  More to come with him, much more.

"On my way home from B I ran into a very handsome young black man named B who tried to pick me up.  Perceiving that he was suffering I asked him if he'd just broken up with someone.  He had and was on the verge of tears.  We talked for a little while.  I never know till some time after whether or not I've been any help in such situations.  Thank God that he makes good of all our puny little efforts."

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