Each and Every Inch Along the Way


“I believe that maturity is not an outgrowing, but a growing up: that an adult is not a dead child, but a child who survived. I believe that all the best faculties of a mature human being exist in the child. . . . that one of the most deeply human, and humane, of these faculties is the power of imagination.” ~ Ursula K. Le Guin

“Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again.” ~ C. S. Lewis

“I have been in my bed for five weeks, oppressed with weakness and other infirmities from which my age, seventy four years, permits me not to hope release. Added to this (proh dolor! [O misery!]) the sight of my right eye — that eye whose labors (dare I say it) have had such glorious results — is for ever lost. That of the left, which was and is imperfect, is rendered null by continual weeping.” ~ Galileo Galilei

A miracle is underway. That sounds like a good thing, right about now. There are actually a lot of miracles, there always are. It is pretty much the definition of life, in my book. I always get that serene smile when I get into the miracle space. I’d say ‘headspace’ except it is more than that. Endocrine system, for one. When I get there the sight of a young child makes me take a deep breath and amp up the serenity a tad. The sight of a dog will makes me laugh. Stuff like that. From where I sit, literally, at my desk, I’ve got the curtain pulled back, and through the window pane I can see the miracle underway. I’m talking about the total eclipse. The moon is about halfway gone. Nice crescent, that. Deeper feeling, wordless feelings, are what is moving me. I mean, I can intentionally expand my consciousness and visualize the Earth, Moon, and Sun; the way the shadow is so precise as it heads toward the temporary theft of the Moon, the way it is all a Cosmic dance that extends much father and further than you may know. It is a dance to the Music of the Spheres. They say that the Music is silent, but I beg to differ, k? It is simply silent to the ears. I know people who can hear this deep, abiding hum, accompanied by shimmering highs, and I am one of them. It ain’t so hard. It’s like looking just right with the eyes, shifting your focus, softening it, just so, and you can then see the energy field of trees. I’m not kidding. We are more than we know, and the Universe, all of existence, is even more so. Like for instance, it is possible to bend time. I did it on the way to work yesterday, as I only had 9-10 minutes to get there right on time (successfully, I might add. At legal speeds the drive takes 15 minutes). As I entered that level of consciousness I actually felt it; expansive, vibrant with immediacy. This has never happened before. Usually it is simply a matter of faith, and that is enough. So I had a big WOW as I felt on out the Jicarilla Peak, yonder in the Pecos Wilderness area — gotta be an easy 15-20 miles, as the crow flies; if not more (BTW, crows make me laugh too). And each and every inch along the way. Listen, ya had to be there. I suspect that we all have these experiences once in a while, but most folks don’t feel them. Just as a side note, one such version of this phenomenon is falling in love. Talk about yer patience! A man can wait a long time, knowing full well that time has got flat out nothing to do with it. He may not even notice for a short, or even a lengthy period of time. Once the process begins there ain’t no stopping it. Note here: I use the word ‘man’ intentionally, so don’t go all feminist on me, k? I don’t know what it’s like for a woman, seein’ how I ain’t one. But I am a feminist. I got rigorous training from my ex-wife, then took and kept the useful parts, and tossed the rest.

And what a sight it is! The cool part is that I could sit in my usual spot and watch Her go dark. Breathtaking. When I softened my focus there were suddenly two moons, like two eyes looking back. They looked like cat’s eyes, wide and unflinching. Friggin cats. They gotta get into everything. So now it’s time to start getting to the day. I’ve got a doctor appointment at 8:45. We still say ‘doctor’. This is a Nurse Practitioner visit. A full physical checkup. And  the nurse is a brand new practitioner for me. No, I’m not nervous. I enjoy a good mystery.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.

I Must Go Listen


“All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.” ~ Edgar Allan Poe

“Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.”  ~ Edgar Allan Poe

“People think dreams aren’t real just because they aren’t made of matter, of particles. Dreams are real. But they are made of viewpoints, of images, of memories and puns and lost hopes.”  ~ Neil Gaiman

“Some people see things that are and ask, Why? Some people dream of things that never were and ask, Why not? Some people have to go to work and don’t have time for all that.” ~ George Carlin

It’s all about the Moon this morning. Nearly full, she was cradled within a pale orange ring, with a bank of dark clouds just below, last time I saw her out there on the western horizon. I sat outside, entranced by the spectacle, not even noticing the air temperature, which hovers at 22º. Granted, it’s a tad warm this morning. The morning temps have been more like 12-13º for quite some time now. As for the orange ring, I must note that the color orange has acquired a bad reputation since the installation of Drumpf. Don’t you believe it. You cannot hold a color accountable for a fool. Don’t even try it, k? BTW, I like that sentence a lot: “You cannot hold a color accountable for a fool”. But back to the Moon. The Veil is opening slowly; the Veil between the worlds. Newer readers may not know that I see myself as a pagan. More accurately, I’m a panpsychist, but that’s another story. Go read about Parmenides for a taste. Anyway, I am feeling the magic pour through from the Other Side. When the Moon is like this the goddess is upon us. The Moon is Her expression. Gotta love it. And then there is the Faery Kingdom, which becomes assessable when the Veil opens. I would think twice about going there on a lark. Think Rip Van Winkle – he went there. It took him a long time to get back. Now, moving on . . . I’m in a way dreamy state this morning, so I’m gonna cut this short. The voices of the Ancestors speak silently and with purpose. I must go listen.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.

Proactive and Nurturing Melancholy

Fire 1 055.jpg

“My somewhat melancholic musings of late have been quite accidentally proactive and nurturing, and a rainy day is conducive to melancholic reflection, and no I am not going all Sartre on y’all, so don’t even try it. Who ever knew that could happen; proactive and nurturing melancholy?”  ~  Ken Ebert

“Faith is, at one and the same time, absolutely necessary and altogether impossible.”  ~  Stanislaw Lem

“Man has gone out to explore other worlds and other civilizations without having explored his own labyrinth of dark passages and secret chambers, and without finding what lies behind doorways that he himself has sealed.”  ~  Stanislaw Lem

The first quote, above, I found in the draft of an old post I never published here at EyeYotee. I absolutely love the idea of “proactive and nurturing melancholy”. The difficulty here, which has holding me back from implementing the idea, is that the weather has been abrasively stable and sunny for way too long. Yeh, we had that lovely snow storm last week, but that was seemingly just the exception that proves the rule. I need a rainy day right now; I need an ineffable overnight snowfall; I need deliverance from this weather that seems to be cast from the postcard reality of Donald Trump. I need precipitation and moody piano music, like, maybe, George Winston on Valium. A candle and incense in the afternoon. Pale ale and daydreams. Is that too much to ask? Don’t answer that, it was rhetorical, k? I’ve taken too much flak in my life for answering rhetorical questions. When will I ever learn? I woke up at 2:22 AM today. The triple twos shown on the iPad, setting me right into the day with number magic. Save your pshaw for someone else, number magic can be more powerful than you may know. Say, did ya notice that I am a tad snarky this morning? I got eight hours of sleep, bountiful with questing dreams – I don’t know what got into me. I don’t know why I feel cranky. I like totally embrace questing dreams, dude, knowing full well that I never have romantic dreams. Of course the quest could be for romance . . . oh, never mind. Geez. I’m not going there this morning. It’s a workday. And I have a physical scheduled with my new general practitioner on Wednesday. That’s enough of a focus for me. It has been maybe eight years since I had a full physical. That one was performed by a young woman who was so beautiful she made me gulp on occasion. She deemed me to be healthy, and noted that I had by far the highest good cholesterol count of anyone she had ever examined. It was fun being examined by her. Listen, I’d better start preparing for my workday. Bueno bye.

Peace Out, y’all. Goof gloriously.


The Ghost and the Nitwit


“Clearly, all fear has an element of resistance and a leaning away from the moment. Its dynamic is not unlike that of strong desire except that fear leans backward into the last safe moment while desire leans forward toward the next possibility of satisfaction. Each lacks presence.  ~ Stephen Levine

“Where your fear is, there is your task.” ~ Carl Jung

“There seems to be a thin, resilient, and self-healing shell between one’s spiritual awareness and that dense web of confusion and often distress that is life in the world of humans. You might poke through now and then, only to find it closing up immediately behind you again. Leaving you wondering if you had really just seen that. Or had it only been your imagination?”  ~  Edward Fahey

The weather has been monotonous and my coffee cup has just run dry. The problem with the weather is drought. The problem with the coffee is that I have had enough caffeine but I desire more coffee. Do not even mention decaf, k? It sucks. It ain’t coffee. I’ll just have to do without. Poor me. Sigh. I’m in a somewhat cynical, snarky mood this morning. I could even go negative, but that is unlikely because I feel the lush current of magic running through the world. It is always there, here, whatever, but sometimes you just can’t consciously feel it. Magic is just that way. So, how did I come to feel it today? I can’t rightly say. Something about my intense life review in search of the hidden identity required to shift my life in an almost quantum way. Yeh, that, maybe. An intermittent yet pervasive feeling, not unlike that of being in love, but it is not the ‘in love’ thing because I am not. What the heck? Is there something that I don’t know? Let’s forego any analysis here. It feels good, and fulfilling, and it has home and hearth written all over it. That kind of value is hard to come by without magic. Speaking of magic, I had a powerful synchronicity earlier. I was reading an article about a woman that I know, who passed away several years ago. At one point there came a startling thump overhead as the house shifted from the intense cold outside. The thump was followed immediately by my Baby Ben alarm clock going off. There was barely a gap between the two sounds. I knew it was a sign from my deceased friend. Apparently she and I have something important to work on together. Yes, I know exactly what it is, but I ain’t tellin’. She will be fun to work with. And, as they say in some Appalachian dialects: it needs done. All said, today is laundry day. It has to be done because I set a new record for putting it off, and did so while still maintaining an agreeable and hygienic presence. The laundromat is not as sacred as it used to be, because the tiny, old Pueblo woman who worked there is gone. She quit a while back. But the task must be done. I will have to muster an air of questing if I am going to wrench myself out of the house to do it. It will take no less than that to get it done. I’m really into the search for hidden identity, which goes hand-in-hand with the major life change that is brewing in my inner cauldron. From romance, to laundry, to a visit from a spirit, tis a mysterious road I must walk today, and I so very much am looking forward to a nice afternoon nap. The virus I’d thought I’d beaten is having a little upswing today. I probably should have called in sick yesterday, but I felt okay at work. It was this morning that I discovered that the little beasties are still in me. No worries, right? Right. I should mention that the 34th anniversary of my head trauma/NDE falls next Saturday. That could explain the mysterious feeling that feels like being in love. Twas a goddess who helped me through that experience, and through the years of recovery and healing that was to follow. She remains, with me to this day. She also gives me hints and insights that have an air of clairvoyance to them. I always listen. It’s like, is there romance in my near future? How do I go about working with the spirit friend who visited this morning? I don’t no. I’d be willing to believe almost anything right now, an attitude that is likely connected to my faithful following of the political news. I mean, the president is capable of almost anything. But with him, I consciously choose to disengage my sense of shock and surprise. The fella thrives on that shit, and I ain’t feeding him, no way, no how. But in the personal matter I choose to enhance the sense of shock and surprise. It’s kinda sorta like that that thump this morning. It was just the house frame expanding or contracting, right? No. That’s not right. The thump gave the spirit, ghost, whatever, a vessel capable of reaching me, and the alarm clock was a way of telling me to “wake up, you silly nitwit”. I don’t mind being called a nitwit, being the Three Stooges fan that I am. Nyuk, nyuk, nyuk.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.


Courtesy, Love, and Hidden Joy


“Re-examine all you have been told. Dismiss what insults your soul.”  ~  Walt Whitman

“Folks, it’s time to evolve. That’s why we’re troubled. You know why our institutions are failing us, the church, the state, everything’s failing? It’s because, um – they’re no longer relevant. We’re supposed to keep evolving. Evolution did not end with us growing opposable thumbs. You do know that, right?”  ~  Bill Hicks

“The first peace, which is the most important, is that which comes within the souls of people when they realize their relationship, their oneness with the universe and all its powers, and when they realize at the center of the universe dwells the Great Spirit, and that its center is really everywhere, it is within each of us.”  ~ Black Elk

What is it with these people? That’s as far as I am . . . never mind. Sleep was good last night. I awoke with a dream hovering and lingering. No details. It’s the feelings that serve me. I’m all about the feelings. Facts are facts. It is the feelings that reveal what you will do with the facts. I came across a certain situation about a year ago, and somebody quoted to me that “attitude is more important than facts”. I called that statement “dark. Very dark”. It is the bully’s way. I’m right because I want to be right? You will submit, right? No . . . ummmm, I won’t. Anyway, last night’s dream was one of those that will be at my side throughout the day, and tidbits will become clear as the day progresses. Whew. We live in weird times. I could use a good dream in this era of nightmares. Now, going forward. I just had two days off. Usually, when I have two consecutive days off, which happens every week, I am without schedule or motivation. It’s my innate hermit drive bundled with unmanaged PTSD. I say unmanaged because when I get a case of the ‘fuck its’ I set management aside. This can bring on a world of shit, but it must be done. Ya jest gotta relax at times. It is good to keep in mind that I live in fear. There is always a chance that something will go ominously wrong and OMG what if I die. Well, I’m not afraid of death, so that leaves that out. I don’t know. I don’t wanna get all poor me and stuff here. Have a little faith, right? Yeh, believe it or not I do have faith. I just don’t go around saying it all the time, as if repetition proves you right. Was it Paul of Tarsus who said to pray in private? He’s got a point there. It’s the old ‘actions speak louder than words’ game, show, whatever. It’s not a point of righteousness. I don’t friggin care who knows or not that I have faith. Listen, I had a spiritual visionary experience(NDE) many years ago. It has never gone away. It never will. Many other peeps who had an NDE come out talking about the power of love. Ummm, okay, there is that. At this time, when needed changes be rumblin’ beneath my spiritual feet, the way I treat my beleaguered self requires love, mercy, and compassion. I have no lack of that. What I do lack is joy. There are several places where joy remains, however. Natural scenic stuff, dogs, cats, babies. Interactions with other people, not so much. There is no lack of love in any of those things, and that goes for the social difficulties as well. In fact, especially so. I think that is what Kurt Vonnegut had in mind when he suggested that courtesy succeeds where love often fails. NDEers also say to be a source of Light in the world. That too has its drawbacks, but it is where it’s at. I mean, right on, and all that other boomer stuff. Shit, I was getting into this post, but I have gone beyond the allotted writing time, so now my freshly washed hair will get frozen to my head, and I will end up with pneumonia, then my car won’t start in spite of the new battery I had to buy last week when my car wouldn’t start. Proof! Then I will get to work, then any number of things will go wrong, because I am out among people, and things happen when that happens. Things go wrong – and there are villains as well. But I do alright. I do my job well enough. I get along with most folks. I have a good time most of the time. Then I get back home, and before the first sigh of relief comes the silent “Not that again! Why do I do this to myself?”. Of course meeting ‘Miss Right’, or even ‘Miss Almost Right’ would bring joy to the surface. To the surface? WTF. See, there is joy deep inside. It is just painfully hesitant to poke its head out. It gets complicated, right? Right.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.



A T-shirt and Tipping Point


Rosie the cat.

“If your dream doesn’t scare you, it’s not big enough.” ~ Craig Lounsbrough

“The truth.” Dumbledore sighed. “It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution.” ~ J. K. Rowling

“Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.” ~ Oscar Wilde

“Truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities; Truth isn’t.” ~ Mark Twain

Things of staggering levels of weirdness and alarm – have we come this far? Yeh, well, duh. I am referring to the national political scene. There’s a tipping point a comin’. There ain’t no doubt about it. There is a fundamental Universal principle at work here. There are forces of electromagnetic proportion. An assortment of goddesses and gods and angels have banded together to issue a joint statement to address the rising shit storm. Their message: knock that shit off. Listen, peeps. Y’all lost your wits when all y’all openly drifted into conspiracy territory. I’ve watched y’all over the past two years. Listen, folks, you have not friggin got what it takes to harness conspiracy.

That was more than I’d planned to say. Actually, I do not recall much planning at all. This stuff is toxic. For the first night in a week my sleep was apparently fitful. I use my hair as a gauge so I was not yet aware of that when I first awoke. What I did almost immediately notice was the upper portion of my t-shirt, above my chest, was damp. Why? That’s one of those things that I like to leave as a question. Sometimes explanations become cumbersome. My own life is nearly at a tipping point as well. I have no idea where it goes from here, and I am facing it alone. For now, who knows, right? Right. The good news is that I pulled together enough clean clothes for my day at work tomorrow, so I can put off doing laundry until Sunday. Progress can show its face in mysterious ways. It’s amazing what a clean pair of boxers can do for self-esteem. Or, make that self-confidence, k? I’m really in the mood for some clever word play but I ain’t up to it today. The respiratory muck is peaking, has been since midday yesterday. I ain’t in no hurry because I want it done right.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.

An Existential Component


“Somewhere out in the darkness, a phoenix was singing in a way Harry had never heard before: a stricken lament of terrible beauty. And Harry felt, as he had felt about phoenix song before, that the music was inside him, not without: It was his own grief turned magically to song..”  ~ J. K. Rowling

“Poetry is a mirror which makes beautiful that which is distorted”  ~ Percy Bysshe Shelley

“I’ve enjoyed every age I’ve been, and each has had its own individual merit. Every laugh line, every scar, is a badge I wear to show I’ve been present, the inner rings of my personal tree trunk that I display proudly for all to see. Nowadays, I don’t want a “perfect” face and body; I want to wear the life I’ve lived.” ~ Pat Benatar

I just had to yank myself away from political news. If all goes well I can get back to it later. The thing is that I usually have Thursday off from work, but I forgot to look at the schedule yesterday and . . . I have to call in and ask if I am supposed to be there today. If so it would suck. Yeh, I’m on mundane things again today. It is understandable, like totally. I’ve got some serious respiratory viral much going on the past few days. There is always a strong existential component to viral illness. I like to drift in and out of sleep all day, when dealing with such a thing. The really cool part is that the task for the day is basic and unavoidable: to rest and let the body take on the fight. So I like to just let my mind roll on, spin, whatever, and I get to watch. Sometimes unusual or unexpected things show up. I am on a search for transcendence these days. So I will watch, then sleep, then watch, then sleep. Either way, dreams or waking observation, I’ve got a feeling that something good is coming my way. That would be nice, right? Right. And I ain’t talkin’ existential. Not at all. Things start in dreams.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.

Weird But True


“Because here’s something else that’s weird but true: in the day-to day trenches of adult life, there is actually no such thing as atheism. There is no such thing as not worshipping. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship. And the compelling reason for maybe choosing some sort of god or spiritual-type thing to worship—be it JC or Allah, be it YHWH or the Wiccan Mother Goddess, or the Four Noble Truths, or some inviolable set of ethical principles—is that pretty much anything else you worship will eat you alive. If you worship money and things, if they are where you tap real meaning in life, then you will never have enough, never feel you have enough. It’s the truth. Worship your body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly. And when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally grieve you. On one level, we all know this stuff already. It’s been codified as myths, proverbs, clichés, epigrams, parables; the skeleton of every great story. The whole trick is keeping the truth up front in daily consciousness.” ~ David Foster Wallace

The Novel and Mundane Things


“Finding the center of strength within ourselves is in the long run the best contribution we can make to our fellow men. … One person with indigenous inner strength exercises a great calming effect on panic among people around him. This is what our society needs, not new ideas and inventions; important as these are, and not geniuses and supermen, but persons who can “be”, that is, persons who have a center of strength within themselves.”  ~ Rollo May

“Words can be like X-rays if you use them properly — they’ll go through anything. You read and you’re pierced.” ~ Oscar Wilde

“When writing a novel, that’s pretty much entirely what life turns into: ‘House burned down. Car stolen. Cat exploded. Did 1500 easy words, so all in all it was a pretty good day.” ~ Neil Gaiman

Another morning of deep cold is at hand. Didn’t quite reach zero. Yesterday was a challenging and exhausting day, partly because I don’t feel well, but also because of car troubles. It seems that the car is all reconciled, but I still feel like crap. C’est la vie. Admittedly, my visualized preference is warm clothes, two pillows, chicken soup, a hot toddy, and a big green fatty. A coupla episodes of The Librarians, a couple of Star Trek: Next Gen. No wait! Star Trek Voyager is also an option. Or I could dig up, on Hulu, Bewitched, Dobie Gillis; oldies but goodies. But, alas, such options as that won’t happen unless my body pulls dog-training words and techniques on me: “Stay. Sit. Down boy. Doooown. Good boy. He’s a good boy”. There is that to consider. I’m not the only one at work to weather such a viral siege. It wouldn’t be so bad if my skin didn’t hurt. I mean, what’s up with that? Ack, I’m out of hot coffee. And it really is close to time to take a cleansing rinse in the shower. I won’t wash my hair today, at least until after work. Hey, why am I writing of such mundane things this morning? It’s about the novel. The characters, two of them anyway, are getting pissed to the point where they might grab me and yank me on in to the book. Write, dude! You leave a character in a single scene and they tend to get testy after a while. You may think I am kidding, but I am not. They develop actual personalities and needs. A write must listen to them or not much of quality is going to happen. That said. I’m a heading to the show. Did I tell you my skin hurts? Yeh, the hot water will help.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.

Profound Rest


“Really good fiction could have as dark a worldview as it wished, but it’d find a way both to depict this world and to illuminate the possibilities for being alive and human in it.” ~ David Foster Wallace

“It suddenly struck me that that tiny pea, pretty and blue, was the Earth. I put up my thumb and shut one eye, and my thumb blotted out the planet Earth. I didn’t feel like a giant. I felt very, very small.”  ~ Neil Armstrong

“With the moon walk, the religious myth that sustained these notions could no longer be held. With our view of earthrise, we could see that the earth and the heavens were no longer divided but that the earth is in the heavens.”  ~ Joseph Campbell

“The best things in life aren’t things.”  ~ Art Buchwald

Yesterday was an unusual day. The 3-4 inches of snow played a part in that. It’s the first real snow of the season. But I think the prime reason was my heating pad. I set my chair up so that in leaning back into the two pillows my head rested firmly against the back of the chair. The heating pad had my back, so to speak. I never left the house. That’s the unusual thing. I don’t remember the last time I did that. The morning weather was pretty much prohibitive as far as I was concerned, so I bowed to the circumstances and decided to just stay home. Later in the afternoon, after a nap of indeterminate duration, the Sun came out and it almost looked safe out there. I thought of taking a quick trip out to pick up a coupla pints of ale for the evening. But the sunny spot I was in was surrounded by dark clouds and wind, and I saw the sunny spot to be the fooler that it was. I am grateful for the day of profound rest. My body, as it was yesterday, is filled with tiny pains, and recalcitrant stiffness. Oh, there are bigger pains as well. Listen, I’ve voluntarily stepped into a new healing phase, something I had to do before I lost my chance. Healing requires a nonjudgmental tolerance of whatever your wounds have to offer. All told, I’d love to stay home again today. Ain’t happenin’. Workday. The world was changed by the storm. It should be fascinating to see exactly how it changed.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.