Moments of Being and Non-Being

Can you feel the Kenergy?

Sep 21, 2023

I’ve been reading “Moments of Being” by Virginia Woolf for the last 3 weeks. The book is a collection of her personal writing: letters, essays, papers. “Moments of Being” spans roughly 40 years of her life from 1907 to 1941 (four months before her death). Each passage has meaning for me.

I may have been reading this book for the last 3 weeks, but I’ve had this book for the last 20 years. With VW, I take my time. I read slowly, with purpose.

With respect to “moments of being and non-being,” she writes,

“When I have been writing one of my so-called novels, I have been baffled by this one problem; that is, how to describe what I call in my private shorthand – ‘non-being’. Every day includes much more non-being than being. Yesterday for example, Tuesday the 18^th of April was [as] it happened a good day; above average in ‘being’… I went out, saw the tide, saw the country, started a book that interested me… These separate moments of being however were embedded in many more moments of non-being… This is always so. A great deal of the day is not lived consciously.”

This entry is dedicated to the moments of being and non-being that I’ve had over the last two weeks. All of my other writing is in progress. In lieu of completed works, here are some moments.

Tarot cards that read: The Hanged Man, The Emperor, The Hierophant

The Hanged Man, The Emperor, and The Hierophant. What a spread. I never usually get cards in the Major Arcana.

It was… unexpected.

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Today is my mother’s birthday. We saw a movie, ate lunch together, and got ice cream. I’m grateful that I get to witness her for another year.

I am my mother’s only child. There is beauty and pain in that.

Though I am no longer a child, the impact of being the only child of a single parent remains with me. I someday hope to find – or create – resources for people who exist at that particular intersection.

Loneliness only begins to scratch that surface.

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Am I not hot when I’m in my feelings?

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Covers of "Moments of Being" by Virginia Woolf and "PET" by Akwaeke Emezi

The books that have kept me going.

I devoured “PET” in two days, much of my reading being done on the 5 train or the Metro North.

The book is a reminder to never forget. The monsters rely on you forgetting.

Even if the monsters are in the house of Redemption.

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When I write, I often feel like an indoor voyager. Let’s go on a voyage across oceans.

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What’s understood doesn’t need to be explained. Simple.

My Big Fat Greek Wedding will always be a favorite.

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A black kitten with scratches in the middle of their forehead. From afar, it looks like the cat has a Third Eye.

A cat whose Third Eye was open ran up to me.

I wondered if we’d met before.

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I learned a new word this week:

sui generis (adjective · sü-ˌī-ˈje-nə-rəs)

: constituting a class alone : unique, peculiar

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I read Andrea Gibson’s newsletter today and cried.

“Warming up to the idea

of a promised tomorrow

is the surest way

to give Today

the cold shoulder.”

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During last week’s storm, I stared out the window for 30 minutes and watched the rain fall. Droplets bent around trees, across phone lines, down drains.

The day was as ordinary as it could be.

It was a reminder that I was still alive.

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Lately I’ve been getting DeJa’Vu.

I look up and suddenly everything is familiar. I’m swimming in familiar seas.

Perhaps the cat and I have met before. Perhaps we’re meeting again and meeting for the first time all at once.

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