Question: why is it so easy to write the numerals “2015”? Much easier than other years, for some reason. Hmmmm . . . Despite the dire prognosis from all sides, I feel expectant: I do assume that yes, this will be the year when we turn things around.
Yesterday, as I was returning from a glorious and extended New-Years-and-50th-Wedding-Anniversary debauch with my dear old friends Mary and Ben and their extended family and friends (how many bottles of champagne did we drink? Somebody counted ten —among eleven people — just on one of the two evenings . . .) —
Shadow’s debauch was even more thorough. Just how much hugs, cuddles, and pats did he receive from the six wonderful grandkids?
So there I was, late yesterday afternoon, driving home south through bare farm fields with no cover crop, zilch, just bare soil that can blow or erode away, and of course poisoned by years of chemicals and pesticides; under unusually (even for these days) heavily hazed skies thanks to chemtrails. I did pass through about 20 miles of windmills stretching east/west as far as the eye could see into the murky haze; and I did notice that so very many of the cars we drive now are smaller, and hybrid; and I did listen to some kind of NPR special that featured audio stories, all of them about marginal people (in this culture), all of them demonstrating the real (if, of course, quirky; such stories often seem obsequious to me) life inside them; and I did get an extended time just driving, driving, with no radio on, just puppy Shadow, exhausted by all the attention, snuggled next to me, and my mind free to wander, spirit to soar.
But then I got home, and this extending experiment (in time and space) that I and others are conducting here in my Green Acres Neighborhood heaved back into view. And once again, the question of how or whether I should I refocus this blog, to not include so many posts referring to current “news” but to instead tell stories that feature synchronicities in my own life. Hmmm . . . Then, last night, an essay topic also heaved into view that I would like to pursue, and perhaps have ready to post after the weekend. It will take a bit of extended reflection on my part — I think! But you never know. It may just pour through the way the other 5000 plus stories over the past four years of this blog have flooded through, sometimes too much or too fast for anyone, even me, to either keep up with or care.
How much of what I’ve been doing is just plain addiction-to-the-news on my part? And how much is truly of service to others? And even if it is of service, is there any need to keep it up? After all, I’ve been showing “the world” how I, one person out of billions, processes “information” by structuring such through what I hope to be an ever-expanding perspective that takes nothing for granted and leaves room for endless possibility.
Of course I fail. How could I not? There are always “beliefs” that I don’t know I have, but that tend to clamp perceptions and ideas about them into certain closed system structures that, given my operating system that’s in a physical body with its own definite edges, are also closed — or they try to be.
Actually, that physical body, yes, it does have physical edges, but so what? How about the emotional body, the mental body, the spiritual body, all, apparently encasing the center of the “self” like Russian dolls, more and more rarified as we proceed out from the center, “edges” more and more permeable, dissolving — and in, towards the center, too? Is there a “worm hole” in the center of the “self”, catapulting us to endless inner dimensions?
Well of course there is! — I think. We are endless in all directions. Inside/outside, all one. And yet, also, paradoxically, yes, we are also specific “individuals,” each of us an utterly unique, precious, and irreplaceable expression of the one universe that unifies and diversifies continuously in all directions, coming and going into and out of form . . .
I’m speaking “off the top of my head” here. Just stream of consciousness, as I sit, at my desk, typing away, fire in the firebox, puppy on the patterned rug in front of it, grey sky, even a few birds this early January morning. Which reminds me: geez, what a glorious whitish hawk I saw sitting in a nearby sycamore a few days ago! Enormous. I wondered about its symbolic significance, that I should see it then — but then promptly forgot.
So much keeps tumbling by as we — I — go about our — my — days, trying like hell to stay “centered,” “equilibrated,” while admitting the noisy chaos of “the news” that staccatos in like bullets from afar — even though everything here in my neighborhood looks pretty placid, apparently elsewhere it is not. Or maybe it’s not here, either, I just can’t see inside all the houses I pass by both in the car and on our walks. Who knows the suffering? Or the joys? We are all encased in our own private worlds, despite that “smart” technology is continuously “taking readings” on our whereabouts, what we’re doing, who we’re seeing, talking to, emailing, perhaps even thinking about. The more paranoid among us (like myself) think that those “smart” technologies are even planting thoughts inside our heads, trying to turn us into predictable robots, in lock step with whatever is wanted by “the authorities,” whoever they are.
As I say, I’m digressing my way through in this post as we enter the second full day of January 2015.
But to pull me back to the original impulse for the post: I do wonder if what I might do with this blog is refocus it write both synchronicity stories and longer posts that require a bit of premeditation, like the one I’m dreaming up now, that has something to do with the frequency field of Neptune/Chiron in Pisces that hopefully, we will be able to utilize to hold the chaotic energies of the final Uranus/Pluto square (2012-2015) that is basically, ongoing from its sixth exact contact (mid-December, 2014) through its seventh and final contact (March 2015). So look for that essay soon, possibly Monday.
Meanwhile: here are a few posts that readers have sent me. Hopefully I’ll be able to at least skim and possibly, even digest, them while I continue to complete putting the edits into the manuscript of A Soul’s Journey.