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Protection

A secret, she said, is this:

If you are about to ask a question, and you realize that all of the responses will be wretched, just do not ask it.

Get up and walk away. Even if you are in a small boat: find a way to go.

It will always have been better not to know. Vague dread will not wake you in the night like a pointy inevitability. Choke the Oracle and free yourself.

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Habitable?

It can be difficult sometimes to be convinced that these harsh New England temperatures are not a punishment for something.

I shout into the bitter winds,

“What have I done?

What have I dooooooooooone??”

Daunt

Always they show the bedraggled hero continue to fight, long past logic, though the odds of success are so small. She may sound her war whoop and run toward danger, or she may have a twinkle in her eye as her fingers fly, decoding the seemingly un-decodable. Her spirit is undaunted.

“No!” I will shout, looking about for something to thump. “That’s not how it is!”

They won’t show her turning away, overshadowed by fear and reeking of doubt. Falling to her knees then listing impossibly slowly until she is on her side, motionless. She lies pinned to the curb like another forgotten specimen stabbed through the thorax.

This is the show I never see. Maybe they can’t make that show. Maybe we cannot watch it.

 

“…And no one talks about when one might stop and need to rest
Or how long you sit alone before you stop looking back 
It’s like you’re waiting for Godot 
And then you pick your sorry ass up off the street and go . . .
And what the hell is this? Who made this bloody mess? 
And someone always answers like a martyr 
Is it something you should know, did you never do your best 
Would you be saved if you were brave and just tried harder?”

 

If I Were Brave, by Shawn Colvin

Firefly

I walk through the night with a firefly in a lantern. My firefly lights the way for me, yes; but it is sad. It wants to be free. If I free it, I will be lonely and in darkness once more.

Though I know I will soon be stumbling in the dark night, I lift the lid of the lantern. “You are free,” I whisper to my firefly. 

It begins to fly out of the lantern into the quiet night. On every beat of its wings, it grows larger. Larger, and larger still. It moves it glowing wings slowly and rhythmically. Soon, there is a soft glow all around me. I am able to see so many paths.

Tomatoes

I eat and eat and gorge on tomatoes of every size and color, stripes and solids, seedy and barely-seeded, heirloom and otherwise, as though this glorious summer orgy can forestall the winter chill  indefinitely.

The Priestess

A few nights ago, I had a very intense, vivid dream that I believe contains a message to be uncovered.

In the dream I was older, in my 60’s perhaps, and was teaching a series of cooking classes (a laugh, since I rarely cook). It was the evening of the final class and the students and I were cooking a meal together in my home.

A young woman was there and I walked by her, then stopped in my tracks.

“I see in you The Priestess,” I told her.

I felt it was very important that she know this. She laughed it off, sort of snorted.

Very earnestly, I took her arm and said,

“My seeing is not just of the past and the future. It is also the seeing of what is inside the heart.”

She pondered this and decided it must mean that her true nature aligns with what The Priestess symbolizes, and acknowledged that she felt it is true.

It was very striking and the dream conversation kept leaking into my mind during the following days. I’d like to do some research on the symbology of The Priestess (although, given that this all came up during a dream, it’s possible that the lesson or meaning of it can only come from my own experiences or looking within).

From what I’ve read online a bit so far, The Priestess (especially the High Priestess, of Tarot decks) is associated with wisdom, spiritual enlightenment, and intuition. She uses her knowledge of the Universe to teach rather than in trying to control others.

My daughter and best friend both believe that in the dream, an older version of me was trying to convey a message to a younger version of me (my daughter favors a time travel theory). If so, what does the message mean? Who/what is The Priestess in my life? Is it related to my new pursuit of learning and receiving Reiki (more on that in another post…)

Capture2

The High Priestess

Recently my brother reminded me of a humorous yet tricky situation that happened when my daughter was a preschooler. Like many preschoolers, she loved watching Elmo, especially the “Elmo’s World” segment. Indeed, Elmo’s world had a lot going for it: a pet goldfish; The Noodles – silly mimes who visited; lots of crayons; and, of course, curious, giggly Elmo himself.

Turned out my daughter wasn’t satisfied to just observe this world; she wanted a real-life piece of it and knew the proper protocol for such a request. She asked me to call Elmo’s mom to arrange a play date for her and Elmo.

Oh, boy. So. How can a parent navigate this one without bursting the bubble and revealing that Elmo is not real? Well, in the years since, I thought several good ways to approach it (for example, claim that Elmo lives across the country and can’t have play dates in the area). Yes, so many good approaches years later. At the time, being sleep deficient and therefore unable to turn on a dime, I was stumped. I went with the everlasting deferment. She asked multiple times if I had phoned Elmo’s mom yet, and I said I hadn’t.

I was a total chicken! She eventually gave up. I’m not sure if her attention had moved on to other things, or if she concluded that I was unreliable on this task. But it’s funny to think about parenting challenges at 4 vs. those at 12.

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