“It is very strange that the years teach us patience – that the shorter our time, the greater our capacity for waiting.” ~ Elizabeth Taylor
“In our twenties, when there is still so much time ahead of us, time that seems ample for a hundred indecisions, for a hundred visions and revisions—we draw a card, and we must decide right then and there whether to keep that card and discard the next, or discard the first card and keep the second. And before we know it, the deck has been played out and the decisions we have just made will shape our lives for decades to come.” ~ Amor Towles
“Truth is the offspring of silence and meditation. I keep the subject constantly before me and wait ’til the first dawnings open slowly, by little and little, into a full and clear light.” ~ Sir Isaac Newton
“Rationality is simply mysticism misunderstood.” ~ Peter Kingsley
This Full Moon eclipse Mars conjunction retrograde thing has got me opened up a little beyond my comfort level. I think this is by design. A spirit is walking with me lately, maybe a week or so, give or take. Of course the Veil is thin these days, maybe even more so with all of the big astrological stuff goin’ on. I have not researched that side of things in a while; a little too technical for my current state of mind, perspective, whatever. I’d rather watch the birds fly. Especially ravens. Crows are cool too. Anyway . . . this spirit seems to be, in part, here to help moderate the energy I feel in waiting. Even as calm as I am this morning I almost feel that I could take a few running step, hands clenched in fists, throw my arms out wide, while unfurling the fingers, and take to the sky, flapping my silly head off. Laughing it off as well. Just sayin’. Joyful laughter is the best kind, especially when the joy is running silent, running deep. That’s the kind of joy that unfolds from unconditional romance, from romantic vibes that have no actual focus to them; ambient stuff that is sometimes like a whole web of kitten purrs in process of being spun again, re-spun into a story that owes time no favors. Love is not a Time-bound thing to begin with. In the kind of story I just mentioned, Time holds about as much sway as a cobweb. Of course the idea of these amorphous vibes evolving into the real thing, to any degree, plain terrifies me. I mean . . . what would I even do then? This I say to y’all: I would effectively laugh out loud . . . put a silly grin on my face . . . and just wing it. Do I see such a development in my future? Well, not rightly so, but I can build myself a fine facsimile to look inward and look at what looks like the real thing. Geez, why am I even talking about this this morning? I mean, what the Puck, right? I’ve always seen Puck as sort of right hand man for the great god Pan. Yet with the MidSummers Night Dream come and gone I am starting to feel enveloped in the fresh green field of the Green Man. The forest, the dale, the high mountain canyon that is held aloft by a golden aspen grove, hovering high above the valley floor, transcending the mountain through enchantment, because enchantment is a healthy step above daily mundane existence. A woman, a friend told me about that aspen grove. I’m gonna go there pretty soon. From a lingering bout of sedentary duff-sitting I’m not in too good shape. I was planning on heading out to the west rim trail by the Gorge first, to get my leg muscles feeling plucky before I go way up into the Alpine realm. But it occurred to me that it would be poor management of the perpetual anxiety I bear. Don’t wanna always coddle it. Sometimes to dive in and just do it is the best way. Does that go for romance should it comes? Likely so. I don’t know. That’s not today’s concern. It’s not a concern at all. The Veil is wide-open from the Moon and stuff. More than one somebody have come through for me. I must walk with these spirits through this time-ridden phase in my life. My long-lived troubadour phase is fizzling.
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.