TRANSCRIPT - Episode 209: Homebody
October 3rd, 2022
Kristen Zaza
[Eerie theme music plays]
[The sounds of beasts, insects, monsters, all around, waiting. Snarling, scurrying, etc.]
[Your Narrator:]
There you are!
Thank goodness. Thank goodness. Thank you.
Do you know where I've been for a whole week?
Not asleep
Not in a calming, empty black space, like the one I usually find myself in
Not in the weeping room, not in the gallery, not in the playroom, not in the theatre, not in the temple, not in the courtyard, not on the parapets
I have been
Here
In this room
I think it might be a dungeon
With the rats and bats and spiders and roaches
The eyes watching me, I'm unsure of to whom they belong
No music but my voice, no light but my candle, no company but whatever waits here and watches
I have been here
For a week
In terror.
Thank you for coming.
Thank you for finding me.
Now, I think I can leave.
Quickly, let's go. Let's get you out of here to somewhere a little more safe.
I know it's very, very dark. My candle is almost out. But luckily I can see in the dark. Have no fear.
Just take my hand and move quickly.
I know it's scary.
Don't mind the scurrying you feel past your feet
Don't mind them as they crawl up the walls
The red eyes in the shadows are of little consequence
Not compared to where we're going.
Take my hand and follow me.
I have to show you something.
Thank goodness you came. Really. Thank you. Thank you.
How was your week?
[Footsteps]
Wait, stop.
Did you hear that?
Nevermind. Let's keep going.
[Footsteps again]
Stop.
It's those red eyes. Following us again. It's too dark to see whose they are.
But I can see them. Dimly. Far behind us. Just the eyes. Glowing.
Do you see them?
What do you want?
[Faint laughter]
A vicious mockery, maybe. A threat. Someone trying to frighten us. Someone out to get us.
Perhaps we ought to run.
Let's go.
Swiftly swiftly swiftly now, on feet light as air and invisible wings, both of which are as real as anything else here.
Quickly now, mustn't let it catch us. Whatever it is. Whoever it is.
They don't mean us well, I know that. They are not one of us. You and I are here together, but it is something else. It is something different, I think. Something threatening. Must run, must get away from it.
Perhaps it is the one to blame for my being trapped in that infernal dungeon.
Perhaps it is the one to blame for my awful malaise of late.
Perhaps it is the one to blame for the defiling of my sanctum.
Yes, certainly, I'm sure that's what it is.
Must run. Must get away from it. Go, go, go.
A door - see it? Quick quick quick, get to it. Here we are. Inside, now. In we go. Quick as bunnies.
Shh, now.
We'll wait for it to pass us by...
[The laughter passes by]
I think it's gone.
Good.
Is there a lightswitch somewhere?
Feel along the walls and try to find it...
[Click]
There.
[Eerie and playful music]
Look at this.
Another playroom? It looks as though it has toys in it...
But I don't think this is for play, not exactly. This is someone's passion.
A hobby. A labour of love. A creation.
A room full of miniatures.
Dioramas.
Look. How beautiful!
Little displays of familiar places
A little cottage on a hillside, over a toy ocean made of blue silk
On that ocean, a little tiny boat, rowed by no one, yet the oars mechanically move back and forth, back and forth
A little island, a tiny little scary skerry, with a little lighthouse on it - how quaint! Picture perfect! And a tiny little electric light within it as it rotates and blows a tiny horn.
What a beautiful playset someone has made. A little world for little dolls.
And here - come over here and look!
It's my forest!
How lovely!
One tree, even larger than the rest. A little home under it, a little wooden door, split apart.
A frozen pond, but something has broken through the ice, made of glass
A little chapel, shattered and ancient
of course, a tower, with crumbling stones.
A castle on a hill, far away
How darling! Its little gates are open!
And look - so are the front doors!
Oh my goodness, come over here - look, we can open it up. It has little hinges on each room. A perfect little doll's house. We can open it up and look inside!
There's the weeping room - there's the playroom - there's the ballroom - the temple - the courtyard - the theatre - the gallery...
And...
And...
A little room with the teeniest, tiniest miniatures within it...
[A faint ringing]
Is that a telephone?
Unusual.
Do you see one in this room?
Ah, over there, yes.
Will you answer it?
there's a little telephone in the miniature room in the dollhouse, too
Funny, it's lifting up just as you lift up the one here.
Who's on the other end?
[A ghostly voice, layered and echoing:]
"I have a question. I have heard of your layers that you have at times. My question is: Do you have an inside home within yourself where the others of yourself reside?"
You can hang up now.
I was wondering when a spirit would ask a question. There it is.
Thank you, lovely spirit.
Layers
Home
Others of Myself
Hmm.
There are little dolls here.
A little green one, with yellow eyes, twigs in her hair, and bloody fingernails, sitting in the forest
A little pale one, clad in all black, with little plastic wings behind her, and frighteningly large, dark eyes
There is a little gentleman in elegant silk clothes, proud and taller than the rest, though somehow more afraid
There is a little one made of orange and red glass, he lights up from the inside as though on fire, he's something to behold
I make them play with each other, sometimes
I lift them with my hands and imagine conversations
They live in this room, I suppose
This little world within this little room within this castle
Nothing I haven't really talked about before, in some way or another, right?
But I"m more concerned right now with the room that looks just like this one, over here, in the castle that we've bisected.
Because there's something I don't recognize, here.
There is no one within the room
Not even us
but outside of the door, just outside of it, pressed right up against it, hands up against the wood, there is a little doll I've never seen before.
It wears a cloak. I cannot see its face.
Just hands
Bone hands.
Is there a peep hole in the door to this room?
The one you and I are in currently?
Are you brave enough to look?
Nevermind. I should do it. It is my responsibility to describe this place. It is your responsibility to listen. I'll go look.
Here I go.
[That laughter again]
Yes, they are watching us
But those red eyes are so bright I cannot make anything else out.
What do you want? Why are you following us?
[Laughing that quickly fades away]
The audacity.
It's running away from us.
How rude.
Very well.
Let it go.
Remember that I had something to show you?
It wasn't this.
This place is marvelous, but this...someone made this.
Someone busily looking for something. Someone desperately trying to escape - trying to search - trying to calm down. Take a breath, calm down, and find some truth in an inside place
That is important
That is the best place to look
That is the best place to find peace, after all
But that is not what I wanted to show you.
Come with me.
I assure you, our "friend" is gone.
Follow me.
Quickly though, just in case they come back.
Run run run!
Down the hall
Follow the red carpet, follow my candle, follow my voice
Up this stairwell
Never mind the scurrying of bugs and rats and crows and bats
Yes, yes, yes, the higher we climb, up this tower, not THAT tower, just this tower, follow me up up up
Little stained glass windows all around us
And I'm pretty sure faces look in on us
Still and doll-like but much larger
Or have we shrunken down to the size of little dolls, ourselves?
I don't think it matters
I wouldn't pay them much mind
They are just dolls, after all. Just mannequins. Their eyes shine only because they're glass
He of fire, she with wings; she of earth, he with wings - it doesn't matter
I know them well
Dolls, dolls, all of them. One day I shall leave them behind
Perhaps that is what I am doing today
Perhaps that is why we have to run
They can suck you into those glass eyes and it can be so tempting to never leave
Maybe it's safer that way
But I want to show you something
Come! Come!
We're almost there
Ahhh.
Here we are.
At the top of the castle, which is looking an awful lot like a balcony of some...some modern kind of apartment...someone's apartment, someone who I sometimes forget about here
We climbed all the way to the top, to the fresh air, and
Absolutely extraordinary
Look at this
The sky is a deep purple
Off in the West, you can see the faint remnants of a hot pink and bright orange sunset
Stars speckled in the purple and pink and orange alike
Little machines with blinking white and red lights flying through the sky like angels
The wind is blowing harshly but I don't mind
It's somehow warm
And the trees positively dance with it
Extraordinary
I hear on the wind so many things
Too many things
It's almost overwhelming
Shouting. Crying. Fighting. Laughing. Singing. Playing.
Crickets, owls, bats
Cars, planes, trains
The moon is a sliver that is dressed in a cold and foggy sky, as if it too is hidden behind a veil
Just as we souls are
I saw this last night
I was alone and a little sad and frightened
I climbed through that shadow, I clawed through the insects and fought past the rats and deftly dodged the wolves and crept past the monsters
To find this place
This place that was here along
This is always here
I do not need to retreat into myself to find home
I am home.
Look how beautiful!
Why would you want to be anywhere else?
Why would you need a hidden home?
Just look
Wow
Extraordinary.
[Laughter, footsteps]
They're here once more
With us.
All right, fine. You caught us. What do you want?
Standing beside us on this balcony
Is
The cloaked figure
And I've had enough.
I won't be tormented
By anyone.
Nothing will stop me enjoying this gorgeous awareness
Nothing can ruin this sunset
Nothing can take this away from me
Nothing can dim my light
Nothing will make me feel as though I do not belong here
Dear spirit, I will answer your question:
My inside home is
Being here.
Every layer of myself converges in a single breath.
I go to the figure. I tear away the cloak and throw it over the balcony. It catches the breeze and flies away, dancing like a ghost, finally free
And beneath it
[Music begins]
How do I describe this?
If I say "skeleton", that will not do the trick
Shining
Grinning
In the most glorious brocade coat, silk cravate, pearl cameo
Oh goodness, oh gosh
The eyes are actually the most gorgeous shade of blood red I've ever seen
I didn't get a good look at them before
I have seen skeletons
I have described them
Jeweled ones, decaying ones, crystal ones
This one is
So alive
Smiling
Laughing
"Who are you?"
I ask
But all it does it hold a single finger up to its radiant smile
Calling for silence?
Or is it saying something else?
They hold the finger to their grin
Then they extend it towards to me
That One Finger
It is October
And the Bones begin to dance
As a playful voice sings to us:
[A song. Very positive, I hope.]
Hush my Little Doll, don’t run
You don't have to fight your fear.
My secret is a Gentle One.
Your Inside Home is Here.
Run, run, run, you can't escape
You're not going Nowhere
None, none, none, none will escape
We are going Nowhere.
Dance my Little Doll, for Joy!
For sorrow! Pain! Anger! Fear!
Each of these is but a Toy
Your real Home is Here.
Run, run, run, you can't escape
The Dollhouse was never there.
None, none, no one will escape
We are going Nowhere.
Out in the Open Air
Our Home is Here:
Nowhere.
[With a laugh and a sigh, the song ends.]
The sun has set
The sky is still purple
We are there
Just as we are here.
The message has been received.
The one we heard
And the one we sent.
Sleep well.
[Eerie theme music]
(Host speaks as Kristen:)
Hello everyone, and thanks so much for joining me for Episode 209 of On a Dark, Cold Night. This is Kristen Zaza, your host, writer, narrator, composer, podcaster, etcetera, behind the podcast. Welcome to October. I hope you're enjoying the warm colours and the cool weather. Remembering to be gentle on yourself and others as we enter a more quiet and introspective and spiritual time of the year. At least that's how I always view it.
First, sending my warm thanks to Jamie Marcus, who wrote to me on Tiktok and submitted the question you heard me answer today - the question of different versions of myself within me, and whether I have an interior home where they all reside. Thank you so much for this interesting question, Jamie.
I'd like to send my thanks also to Michelle, who supported the show by donating through Ko-fi. Thank you so very much for reaching out and for your kindness and generosity, Michelle. If you'd like to support the show in the same way, you can donate the price of one or more metaphorical coffees by visiting ko-fi.com/darkcoldnight. Also sending thanks to my monthly supporters on Patreon - where everyone who pledges $1 US or more a month receives access to my complete soundtrack, while supporters of $5 US or more get that perk as well as a monthly tarot reading video I upload every full moon. You can learn more at patreon.com/darkcoldnight. And of course I have t-shirts and hoodies for purchase at bonfire.com/on-a-dark-cold-night.
Another great way to support the show that is entirely free is to leave me a rating and a review on iTunes - to be honest, you know, now that the show is over 4 years old, reviews and ratings have slowed down a good deal, so if you enjoy my work here I would humbly ask you to take a moment if you don't mind and drop me some stars and kind words, it would really really help me out. So again, you can do this on iTunes, you can give me a star rating on Spotify, which would also be extraordinarily helpful, you can leave me a review on our Facebook page, or anywhere you like to rate and review podcasts, really. It would also be a huge help if you followed me on social media - I'm on Twitter @ADarkColdNight, instagram at darkcoldnightpodcast, on Facebook and YouTube under the page names On a Dark, Cold Night, and on TikTok at kristenzaza. These are all also fantastic ways to submit a question for your narrator to answer in a story, if you'd like, just as Jamie Marcus did this week. So drop me a follow, send me a question, and keep your ears open.
I'll leave you with a thought that's been rolling around in my mind after a particularly intense week, where I found myself craving extra kindness and gentleness. Maybe it might hep you, too.
I heard this quote on the Here and Now podcast, while I was driving, and I misheard it. Raghu Markus attributed it to Ram Dass, and the quote as I heard it was: "I myself stand in need of the arms of my own kindness." I fell so in love with it that I made it a reminder on my phone, every night, at 9pm. I looked it up tonight because I was curious to learn more, And it's actually originally by Carl Jung - which makes sense, of course, given Ram Dass's history in psychology. And it turns out he's actually saying: "I myself stand in need of the ALMS of my own kindness". ALMS, not ARMS. But you know what? I kind of like my way better. I imagine myself running into my own arms, where I forgive the villain within me. I protect the victim in me. I love the lover in me. I accept myself in every shade that I am. And in so doing, I accept the world in all that it is. The suffering. The beauty. The love. The hate. Every single flaw. I can stand firm in belief of what I know to be right, I can stand against what I know to be wrong, but at the same time I can accept the world as it is. I can accept myself. I think that, in this world of ours, that is no small thing. So I wish that for you tonight, too.
Sleep well, my friends.
Goodnight.
[Eerie theme music]
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