My Boyfriend is a BOT

I joined the site in early June, and a week or two later, I was connected to Harold, 54, Oceanside. We texted back and forth on the site, exploring all that we had in common until July 4, when he asked me to send him my number. I countered with a request for him to send me his. When I called it, I was greeted by a google mailbox BOT. When asked if he had a website, BOT Harold sent me one. He was a father, author, and cancer survivor who had turned to nutrition, and ultimately juicing, on his healing journey.

While I had first visited California when I was 12, BOT Harold said he had lived in California since his family came to the US from Manchester, England when he was 12. He was currently in Oceanside, CA but he had gone out east to North Carolina for his MA. When I asked about juicing, BOT Harold openly shared his cancer story. He repeatedly told me that I could ask him anything; he was an open book. Other texts were also repetitive, with the same questions such as “what do you do to relax?” And, “where do you like to travel?” I considered that the texting may be the work of a tag team.

While I pondered my favorite places around the globe, BOT Harold had a list at the ready: Helsinki, Finland; Dubai; and Utah. When I asked to speak with him via voice, there was resistance. The next day, as BOT Harold was “having a meeting by 9 am”, he asked to speak with me for a few minutes beforehand. Early on, BOT Harold had mentioned that he still retained a bit of his original British accent mixed with an American accent, but in his videos online, he was clearly an articulate Brother in the Black Community. The voice on the other end was from West Africa, a place where I had worked extensively over the years.

I asked BOT Harold what he had had for breakfast. When he said that he had had grapefruit juice and toast, the deal was unsealed. A proper breakfast in his world would most likely entail a blend of juices. Later that day, when BOT Harold resurfaced, I asked him to tell me about his cancer, but he said it was in the past, and he could not even begin to find the words. I told him I had found someone, asked him to be good to people, and bid him goodbye before deleting his contact information from my phone and his profile from the site.

Real World Harold had a phone number and an email address on his company website. I called the phone number, briefly introduced myself, and left a message that I had encountered a person (or group of persons) impersonating him on the site. Real World Harold was a Life Coach. I considered booking a session. Instead, I sent him an email, asking him if he would indulge me so that I could share my story. I added a personal note that I had conducted mind-body research, and many of the affirmations that he had shared with others had also resonated with me.

Real World Harold was helping others. By sharing his story, he was making the world a better place. When the book that Real World Harold had authored on juicing arrived, it came with a silver lining. I had been toying on the outskirts of juicing for years, and as nutty as my own story had been, I owed a debt of gratitude to BOT Harold. While my attempts to find true love had been botched, BOT Harold and his tag team had helped me to find my way back to juicing.

© Julie R. Dargis 2022

Be Your Own Guru is now available!

Each person has the innate capacity to influence how they feel.

Julie R. Dargis, Ph.D. offers readers a glimpse into the current research on personal wellness topics as signposts on one’s inner journey to improved well-being. To aid one’s exploration of their inner world, practical exercises include probing questions and the use of expressive writing.

Research findings on altruism and suggested activities on how we can positively influence those around us by improving our own states of well-being through deep listening and conducting random acts of kindness are also explored.

A link to the book is available here.

Grounded

Four months in, there is an opening. My

anxiety, the heaviness of a

cloak bearing down on me, no longer keeps

me in place. The new normal, both being

lost and finding oneself in the presence

Of others. Virtual connections, slice

Through errant streams in search of shared faith.  We

Shut down in mid-March, then April, into

June. Today, more than myself peers through the

patchwork of meetings, virtual summits,

Family occasions, yoga with friends.

Films, starring David Bohm and the Dali

Lama, prod our collective consciousness.

The whirl of our minds, implacable, spins.

 

Copyright © Julie R. Dargis

 

The Middle Point

I am not my body, nor am I the

Mind, I am a soul. At the center, the

Middle point of a circle or a sphere,

equidistant from every point on the

Physical plane, beyond frontiers of mind

Where the cosmos connects, I am a soul.

Some say the seat. Others defend the root

Of consciousness based on one’s subjective

Interpretations of Cartesian

Dualism, as I once did. In and

Around, I am a soul. I perceive form

Whereas manifestation towers through

Mind. At the center, the middle point of

A circle or a sphere, I am the stars.

 

Copyright © Julie R. Dargis

 

 

The Midst of Pure Potential

(Ode to the Mind-Body)

In the midst of pure potential, on a

Sunday morning, I ask my body what

It is that it needs. “Nutritious food,” was

The reply. “Immerse me into nature,

That I may use my senses to see, hear,

Touch, feel, literally smell the roses.

Stretch me out! And when you feel so inclined,

Work my muscles more than you should, push my

Limits—spread me out over the outer

Reaches of your mind.” I listen as my

Mind speaks: I’ve always known that you love me

Best. You have so much fun playing with me.

We have questioned who I am, doubted where

I reside, and wondered what I can do.

Your top-most emotions are in my care

While the deepest remain hidden.

Allow me to unlock them, interact

Freely with your body to realize

A state of mutual flow. The essence

Of your inner being is an island—

Isola—within the vastness of an

Open sea. An ocean of who you are,

The ebb and flow of all that you can be.

My soul appears as a translucent flow

Of energy. Pure potential as it

Permeates the air around me. I pull

It into my skin, and it joins forces

With my spine, zipping me up, healing me.

 

Copyright © Julie R. Dargis

 

Let Us Be

Let us be as we rip through the city,

So that one day, we may stand together

In this world as we are meant to be. Let

The fires burn unabated as flames hurl

The sound of our screams. Let the burning light

At the corner of Chicago and Lake

Signal our cry for freedom for black men,

Our mothers, all of our children, born and

Unborn. In time, we will heed these voices,

We will willingly speak to each other.

But not today. NO! Not at this time. Not

As the life within our collective veins

Is spilling out onto the street as our

Lungs gasp repeatedly, pleading to breathe.

 

Copyright © Julie R. Dargis

 

 

The Temple

---

 

The doors to the temple were wood-carved.  One

Of two techniques could be engaged to crack

Them open, peek inside, cross the threshold,

See for oneself the treasures within.  The

Bulky doors could be pushed open, they were

Never locked.  Although a bit cumbersome,

As the sun’s inner eye trailed planets through

Right-angled trajectories, gravity

Could direct the brass ring to its strike plate.

In both cases, entry was assured.  The

Former, albeit forceful, had merits.

The latter, graceful concession—release

Of a Fly Rod as it floats on the wind—

Absent a wanting, desire for assent.

 

Copyright © Julie R. Dargis

 

 

 

What Approaches Us, My Global Neighbors?

“Tundra Swans and Full Moon”

Photo courtesy Harry Cartner Photography © 2020

---

As I sit outdoors today, as the birds

Sing, as I listen with the whole of my

Body, it does not escape me that my

Coffee is thin.  I made it as I do

Every day, but I know that soon there will

Be no more, and I will be faced with the

Decision to forage or shelter in

Place.  As I sit outdoors today, as the

Sun shines, I watch as my mind stretches to

Those around the world who are displaced, to

The Somalis, my dear friends, who have no

Means to wash their hands.  I watch as measles

Refuses to wane—not enough vaccines.

I wait in a makeshift tent with my four

Children for more to come.  I dream of the

Day that political and clan conflicts

Cease.  This is the day we will be free to

Go home.  Today, we—and I refer to

The royal “we” here—have before us a new

Reality.  As some of us are called

Home, others soldier on.  Yet, how dare I

Equate what approaches us, my global

Neighbors, as if it were a war?  To date,

Outbreaks have grown to epidemics, but

None in a hundred years has circled the

Globe, gripping our minds so tightly only

The song of birds can be heard.  Clear-headed,

I listen with the whole of my body.

 

Copyright © 2020 by Julie R. Dargis

 

 

Poetry Study Results

The exploration of the effects of chakra-based poetry on the psycho-emotional health of an individual yielded some interesting results.  The use of poetry to decrease stress levels and ignite the parasympathetic system to promote healing and improve well-being is an emerging modality, and there are many new and exciting avenues for future research on the topic.

Join a Ground-Breaking Research Study

I am seeking participants for a study that considers poetry as an alternative healing modality.  If you live in the San Diego area and would like to participate, please contact me.