Night Moves Toward Action

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“For a warrior, to be inaccessible means that he touches the world around him sparingly. And above all, he deliberately avoids exhausting himself and others. He doesn’t use and squeeze people until they have shriveled to nothing, especially the people he loves.” ~ Carlos Castenada

“Never mistake motion for action.” ~ Ernest Hemingway

Restless, I follow the cat out the door. She has her own door, cut out at the bottom of my door. In the 3 AM darkness I hunker down just outside of the door, just as I almost always do. It has nearly a ritual feel to it, this action. And 3 AM is my time to vibe in to the world. This morning I can hear a few dogs barking, and from the tone in their voices I sense that coyotes are afoot in the neighborhood. I saw one yesterday, a coyote. I was nearly home after a drive down to WalMart. As I was turning onto the road that leads to my house I saw an animal run across US 64, from left to right, and it ran up the fairly steep embankment, stopping near the top, looking in my direction. It could have been looking at anything but I felt it was looking directly at me. Such is magic; it often looks like some mundane activity or thing, yet it carries the weight of the light that begins to shine when it kicks in. In my pagan view light has weight, it has substance, and you can feel it, like a swatch of fine velvet drawn slowly across the brain. These moments feel brilliant, and they are.

Another part of this morning is that I heard what sounded to be the Taos Hum. It has been years since I’ve heard it. For me the only thing eerie about it is that it seems to have no discernible source. But as I was hunkering outside I heard that low sound like a diesel engine idling in the distance.

Just as I was finishing writing that last sentence I heard the soft call of a coyote. That seals it for me. Magic is here and I welcome its arrival. In all of the self-pity I’ve been scattering away lately, magic keeps its distance. I can’t blame it really. Depression, bipolar or not, nearly demands that other things, other forces, and other people leave the suffering mind alone. Mine is bipolar. Poor me. I have bipolar type 2 so I don’t get the intermittent euphoria that type 1 folks get. The benefit of even having a diagnosis of the disorder is the knowing that when things look darkest the proverbial dawn will come. It’s not so much a ‘dark night of the soul’,  its a twilight roller coaster of the mind. And I am of the opinion that people with this disorder somehow have an in with the magic, one that most people don’t have. Lucky me.

“I Am Walking Through The Silver Morning
And I Feel The Music Inside Me, Yeah
What Did I Find
Was It Peace Of Mind
Gonna Bring It Home To You” ~ Kenny Rankin

Speaking of luck, as luck would have it, I am again feeling around for her, the woman who at this point in my life is hypothetical. This is a hard concept to describe, but I do it anyway. She came to me several times, in the flesh, and the magic that I felt in all of those moments was profound. But I don’t know if it was her, or if I was simply feeling a more amorphous thing. Am I obsessing? Maybe. Obsession makes its way unimpeded until it runs smack into the wall of manifestation. That’s what I’m saying, k? That’s what I am ready for. The consequences could be sweet, baffling, or bland. I’m going for sweet. If you subscribe to the concept of quantum entanglement, which I do, there is a connection to future events that looks a lot like premonition. You can see the future because the future is there. If I truly see her there it means that the magic I felt in those few times that we shared bright smiles . . . well, it means it was real. Obsession goes by the wayside. If you dear readers would silently cheer me on I would be most grateful. I may be depressed but the clinical nature of these deep blues need not prevent me from finding love once more, in a life that is self-described as approaching the perfunctory level of unfeathered fear. I’d rather not be that way. It would be a disservice to her.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.




2 thoughts on “Night Moves Toward Action

  1. Cheering you on as you create her – through you. (‘Cause of course, she’s a reflection of your self.) 🙂 And yes, I see how you ARE “all that” – that she is and inspires.

  2. Thank you for understanding what I’m on about. It isn’t so strange unless I try to talk or write about it. But I must. There is power in doing this through writing, because I am sharing a process that maybe someone will find to be a tad workable after all. The hard part is that, like the Faerie folk, the more you talk about it the more they slip away. Tis a delicate dance of dreams and a balancing act that would make the great Chriss Angel look like Elmer Fudd. 😉 Chriss could pull it off, no doubt. But Why? Who knows who got da key?!

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