“Nothing comes unannounced, but many can miss the announcement. So it’s very important to actually listen to your own intuition rather than driving through it.” ~ Terence McKenna
“Cease trying to work everything out with your mind. It will get you nowhere. Live by intuition and inspiration and let your whole life be a Revelation.” ~ Eileen Cady
A Blessed Samhain to you, one and all. I see it as the Celtic New Year, a time when the Veil between the worlds in thin, if not completely open, a time for communing with the Ancestors, listening to them, and learning still in their physical absence. It’s not so much to ask, right? A time of liminality, a time for reverence and peace. Never mind all those costumes and demons and nasty woman witches. That stuff is fun for many, but it is Halloween, not Samhain. Tomorrow will be the 22nd anniversary of my arrival in Taos. I don’t know what to think of it. I came here without planning, without even a smidgen of knowledge that I might do so. Hmmm, it’s a mixed bag. As it turns out I came to help my parents die, dad first, then mom. Cancer. And now what? I am at a low point, without a view of where life may go from here; a hermit of sorts, waiting, not knowing what it is I am waiting for. I stay home most of the time when I am not at work. Silly me. I’m sure it will change. But it feels right, regardless of the common wisdom, with a taboo toward solitude and slowness. Both are serving me well. And it is only days away from the 10th anniversary of my mother’s passing. I was right there at her side when she moseyed along, right on through the Veil. Her final words were unintelligible so I take liberty in believing that she said something like “farewell, and see you down the road a ways”. Let me tell you right now, straight on and solid, there is no end to the grieving. There is no need for an end to the grieving. Tis natural, you see. For all of the pain and sorrow it evokes it also injects a potential for immense joy into life. But ya gotta take initiative and use the joy, experience the joy. Ya let it sit in the closet on the shelf and yer shit out of luck, and it is of your own choosing as well. I get my joy from Nature these days. And also from the rush of connecting with a beautiful woman; that most recent dazzling and flirtatious smile being the dominant feeling right now, of the joy of being human, a blessed tool in fighting the treachery of PTSD, and I am here to tell you so. I hope she comes back soon. For regular readers I will simply say that she is the one with the hands, the one I wrote briefly about recently. No, I won’t divulge her identity. That would spoil the magick. I’m all about magick these days because the practical, materialistic side of me is as dormant as a dormouse. That mouse will wake up before too long, my friend. I know, I know, I am rambling here. It’s a stream of consciousness thing. It’s the best I’ve got today. Boy howdy is it ever! It is better than it sounds. A giant cottonwood releasing spent leave unto the wind, two hawks dancing with two ravens against the azure sky with its sharp Autumn brilliance, dreams that linger on out throughout the day, and the feeling of community expressed through the customers I serve at the hardware store, where practically all of us are doing some form of winterizing. And that smile. No, I am not obsessing, there is just much of that troubadour-y romantic adolescent left in me. Her smile was given freely. It is mine to use as I please in my current solitude. Am I making sense? Hmmm, I don’t really need to make sense, nor do I intend to. It is simply that kind of day.
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.