“What am I living for and what am I dying for are the same question.” ~ Margret Atwood
“To live only for some future goal is shallow. It’s the sides of the mountain that sustain life, not the top.” ~ Robert Pirsig
“Like most North Americans of his generation, Hal tends to know way less about why he feels certain ways about the objects and pursuits he’s devoted to than he does about the objects and pursuits themselves. It’s hard to say for sure whether this is even exceptionally bad, this tendency.” ~ David Foster Wallace
. . . and then what should arise from the early morning’s dark silence? The cry of the fox. That’s what. This excites me on several levels. What gets me most is that since I have lived here I’ve had only scant evidence that the fox lives here, too. Footprints in the snow was my first clue. Since then, not so much. This morning it just came out of nowhere, out of that timeless place where archetypes rule. About an hour earlier it was distant dogs, then distant coyotes. Those two species often play footsie in the dark. Wow, that was a weird sentence. Anyway, as I was saying. The fox was by the sounds of it about halfway up the slope that opens onto the mesa. Not far away at all. Her voice had a tone of annoyance, or pissed-off-ed-ness, to it. Or maybe it was just me, right? It is the dark of the Moon and the Vernal Equinox has just tripped us on into actual Springtime. I’ve no proof that it was a flesh and blood beast I was hearing. It could just as easily be a Spirit Animal, a magickal being. She let out perhaps two dozen more little barks as she walked away to who knows where. So, I just went and googled it. Symbolically this encounter suggests that cognitive clarity may just be beginning to re-emerge from wherever the heck it has been hiding. There’s a lot more to it, but the clarity is what stokes me right now. Now, this is a magickal time in the cycles of the seasons. The Veil that separates us from awareness of the Spirit World, the Dreamtime, the world of Faery . . . well, that Veil is a little thread-bare this time of year. A lot gets through. I’m just sayin’ that the fox may have come from there, then expressed herself through the cry of an actual flesh and blood fox. For me the Fox is Goddess energy, of the Divine Feminine, whatever. That blends right in with the inner currents of what I am on about in this earthly life, right about now. My therapist pointed out that what I wrote about yesterday, about chillin with mom while binge-watching reruns of Colombo, is the call of the Goddess, inviting me into more Feminine climes for a while, for some of the nurture and healing I’m gonna be needing before I grab hold of the tow-rope and go forth into the next phase of life. I’ll be gettin’ some of that nurture and healing later this morning, when I lay down on the massage table. The muscles and bones are worse off than usual. Pesky achy stuff. But the dark of the Moon, just beyond the threshold of the Equinox, is a good time to get a good, energy-freeing massage. I’ve been so friggin tired lately, and I reckon that it is somewhat because I have so much bound up energy. Reckon? Yeh, maybe. It’s kinda what ya get when ya bid for transformation. But that comes a tad later. Right now I’m focused on the battle of occipital ridge, which is a fancy way of saying my neck hurts! Poor me, right. Yeh, today is about me.
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.