"I was flying down a desolate road on my motorcycle when a big black dog appeared in front of me. No time to brake, I stayed the course, hoping he would move. But he stood on the center line and stared at me. My father was a minister and exorcist for many years (before converting to sufism). Thanks to exposure to his exorcisms when I was a child - I actually watched many - I still often imagine that i can see the glimmer of spirits inside some people and animals. i saw more than a glimmer in that dog’s eyes as i smashed into him.

I flipped over the handlebars and went tumbling thirty meters down the road. I was wearing a t-shirt, which tore up my arms a bit, but luckily i skidded for the most part on my backpack, which contained a large anthology of Allen Ginsberg’s poetry. Thankfully, the book took the scraping instead of my skin.

Looking back, I imagine Ginsberg's words and phrases flying out of the backpack like sparks, as my old man echoes them from his lecturn "Holy forgiveness! mercy! charity! faith! Holy! Ours! bodies! suffering! magnanimity! Holy the supernatural extra brilliant intelligent kindness of the soul!"

Hanging over me is a strong sense that the collision on this remote road holds the key to unlocking my potential - that if i could scrape those words off the pavement and piece them together in the proper order, or place my ear close to the dying dog and hear his last words, I could divine my direction and my voice would become clear.

It’s as if the dog were a portal to a new dimension that I didn’t quite break through. Or maybe I did, but I’m wandering that new dimension without taking advantage of its gifts. I meditate daily, hoping to grasp the lesson meant for me. I have a burning belief that I will, and in so doing I’ll accomplish what I’m meant to.”

#storiesonskin #expandedeye #allenginsberg