“Time doesn’t take away from friendship, nor does separation.” ~ Tennessee Williams
“Come on Chumley. We’re going to see Mr. Whoopee!” ~ Tennessee Tuxedo
This will be a magical day. They all are, all told. It’s just that some days, most days really, I forget. I do the same with absurd days. It’s a cosmic humor sort of thing. The rooster started at 4:30 AM and I was like dude get some new material. Luckily he has been silent after issuing only two crows. The cat is at my side on her bed. There are no insects singing. The stars have been coming and going but at their peak the deep galaxy-ridden clarity speaks well of our Northern New Mexico high altitude rarity. Yes, yes, yes, I noticed that ‘rarity’ and ‘clarity’ rhyme, just don’t get me started, k? I have a little poet in me and the little fella hasn’t learned to do nuanced rhymes quite yet. Me? I prefer free verse. But I also like to remember that Victor Borge reminded us that “It could be verse”. Moving forward. I had a nice conversation with a friend yesterday and she reminded me that at nearly 61 years old it might be worth considering finding my capital ‘D’ Dream and going for it. I most certainly have my freedom right now. Said freedom looks like baloney, canned soup, and cheap beer, but it goes far beyond that. It’s been coming for a long time, yet it was them folks at the animal shelter that provided me with the actuality of it all. Do not doubt that I am grateful. I am. But about the dream thing – why would I forget such a possibility? And how did it come to be that I have no identifiable dream of that nature? How did it happen that I forgot the one big difference between a dream and fantasy is that dreams can come true? Fantasy, not so much. Now, what if that Dream is present disguised as a fantasy? We are entering Trickster territory here. One of the Trickster’s functions is to break down reality to make room for new growth. I’ll admit he did a good job this time. Do not doubt that I am grateful. I am. The Trickster thing fits in with the theme of the book I am beginning to write, wherein so many of us have forgotten the importance of totemic energy, Dreams, archetypes, and magick in general. I see all of these things as manifestations of an intelligence that is akin to humanity but not of it. Does that make sense? Sure it does. My focus is on the Imaginal Realm. So why have I not been listening? I have, but I let my culture-driven expectations override and hide the fact that those expectations may be masking what change really looks like at this time in my life. And to my detriment. Listen, I had a vivid synchronicity happen yesterday, and synchronicities are messages from the Imaginal Realm. Lucky me. It feels Earth-shaking at this time, and maybe it is. It certainly, most certainly, shattered a wall or two in my inner sanctum. That is one of the drawbacks of being an introvert, a rich inner life can get rigid, and that is only good in short bursts. As James Bond knows, stirring is but a pleasantry. Shaking is the best. Taylor Swift knows this as well. Shake it off, right? Ummm, Taylor? That lunch invitation still holds. Let me know, k? I’m so silly. If she ever takes me up on the offer she might be really pissed when she finds out that she’s gonna hafta buy. Then what?
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.