Longing, we say, because desire is full
of endless distances.”

01 April 2010

"For now, books are still the best way of taking great art and its consolations along with us on the bus."
almost hot in the greywoods up the creekbed theres a presence there that the dog and i dont quite care for entirely unlike the left fork that leads up and through.  theres a watchfulness in the greywoods,  a cloak of invisibility thrown over the whole thing, a one way glass. something makes me hurry there where i would otherwise gawk and linger.  the dog and i fairly trotting, leaping over the burn back and over for better footing, she whimpering ahead i peeking behind.  but it was an exercise in trust and a quest to fetch my mitten, cutting through the same two yards again, forgive me.  ill stick to the left-hand path from now on.  i offer my thanks for retrieval and  safe passage.

Penny has inspired me to exhume my Tarot practice.  the seachange caused me to batten down a great deal of my self and now as i at least accustom to foreign shores, i begin to unbind a bit, and see myself anew.
and todays card, with consummate apropos, Two of Pentacles, there i am, arrived from the the shoals, the maternal form of lands past behind me, trusting in what is unseen within and without to protect and guide me.  my seat is as strong and secure as one can be that sets at the threshold.  the swords are enormous but because they are a natural extension of my Self, i handle them with little effort.  they fan out like antennae, collecting energy and information, an invisible cone that draws the Universal Song down into my quiet mind.  my foundation is power and magick, the yellow slippers beneath a simple linen shift.  simplicity within me, upon me, before me, hazard and difficulty behind.  and a waxing moon, watching over me.  i am complete.
"Order is restored from a chaotic situation... Breathe... and be still... ...and open your eyes..." 

the kind of day im having

"...emptiness:  the unconditioned, inexpressible, dreamlike nature of all experience."

"Several experiments using the particle accelerator could help test for smaller particles, dark matter, other dimensions, supersymmetry and other theories in particle physics, researchers said."

the sky was a clean slate. 
(remind me what im planting)
Gentle, Present, Peaceful, Joyful, Of Service.
ten for today:

1.  april
4.  flashing the postman a peacesign
5.  walks
6.  angel armies
7.  H.H. The Dalai Lama
8.  44% (prob. closer to 32% but the weather makes me optimistic)
9.  frogs
10.  walking past a a house and hearing someone inside practicing the piano

 God Bless America

(of decerebrators, nooklopias and external skeletons)

the song that saved my life today:

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Blessed Be.

"And if the question were asked: What is more real, the mundane or the sublime? most would hesitate before they gave an answer. On the one side, details: say, the aftermath of a breakfast, dirty chipped plates in the sink, their rims encrusted with egg yolk. Against this, the unnameable: small aching heart with boasts, what can you know? Outside the cage of everything we ever heard or saw, beyond, outside, above, there lies the real, hiding as long as we shall live, there stretch and trail the millions of names of God burning across the eons. When all through this our end will come before we even know the names of us.

For many the egg yolk prevails." -L.M.

"Love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is done well."

"The perfection of the Absolute where all Becoming stops and pure Being, immutable, timeless, unchanging, hangs forever like a ripe peach upon the bough." -E.A.

"...and the whole incident was incredibly frazzling and angst-rod and filled almost a whole mead notebook and is here recounted in only its barest psycho-skeletal outline." -D.F.W.

"At the top of the mountain, we are all snow leopards." -H.S.T.

"Only when we are no longer afraid do we begin to live." -D.T.
"Cometh a voice: My children, hear; From the crowded street and the close-packed mart I call you back with my message clear, back to my lap and my loving heart. Long have ye left me, journeying on by range and river and grassy plain, to the teeming towns where the rest have gone - come back, come back to my arms again. So shall ye lose the foolish needs that gnaw your souls; and my touch shall serve to heal the fretted nerve. Treading the turf that ye once loved well, instead of the stones of the city's street, ye shall hear nor din nor drunken yell, but the wind that croons in the ripening wheat. I that am old have seen long since ruin of palaces made with hands for the soldier-king and the priest and prince whose cities crumble in desert sands. But still the furrow in many a clime yields softly under the ploughman's feet; still there is seeding and harvest time, and the wind still croons in the ripening wheat. The works of man are but little worth; for a time they stand, for a space endure; but turn once more to your mother - Earth, my gifts are gracious, my works are sure. Instead of the strife and pain I give you peace, with its blessing sweet. Come back, come back to my arms again, for the wind still croons in the ripening wheat."
-John Sandes, The Earth-Mother (excerpt, 1918)