More dreams than usual,
vivid ones.
Perhaps it’s time to write them down.
My dear one asked me about the future
and I realized that I have not looked beyond next summer
with any sort of deliberate care,
With the exception that when I’m seventy I would like to carry the ghost of Trina Schart Hyman in case there is more work she would like to do.
This is the work of this season:
What seeds lie under the snow?
Plant them with care this year,
Broadcasting will not do.
Plant with care.
I dreamed in the wee hours
of a troll
– long-limbed, preternaturally slender, covered in long hair, with two glowing spots –
under a bridge.
(the exit 10 bridge on Route 89)
And suddenly I was afraid and perceived him as several, and human, and terrifying in that way.
My voice of reason reminded me of two very important things:
First, how to defend myself: when one is inside and in control of a ton and a half of both armor and battering ram, there are ways; then get on the highway South because Exit 9 is well populated.
Second, that the danger I perceived was my own projection. If I stopped and really looked, it was not a scary gang. In truth, it was just a troll signaling for help, a cosmic neighbor crash-landed and panicking.
First aid for blue leaking fluids is simply first aid, and I called state police to help with towing and helping him get checked for a concussion.
Friends, I’m delighted to announce that the meditation manual is available which accompanies the days from Imbolc (tonight or tomorrow or next week, depending on your calendar; or in August, depending on your hemisphere) to Ostara (the spring equinox).
This time of the year is difficult for me, and I imagine it is for many. Will you join me on our meditations and walks and imaginings? Our Morning Meanders are available through Kindle.
The stars last night –
the clearest,
the most,
the sparkliest,
the brightest,
the most colorful I have ever seen.
Crazy what happens when I put my glasses on.
It finally happened.
The ladies’ room here has two paper towel dispensers which are activated by motion.
One of them is also haunted and activates when the light is turned on.
I entered, the motion-detecting lights turned on.
The light-detecting towel dispenser dispensed a towel.
The motion detecting towel dispenser detected the motion of the light-detecting towel dispenser and dispensed a towel.
The light detecting towel dispenser (which, you will recall, also detects motion) detected its companions motion in dispensing a towel and responded in kind.
I left them still chattering back and forth between themselves.
Almost ready for January, friends.
I’m caught in some kind of slipstream.
The days are acting like February,
Wordless,
And my heart is focused on interpreting this rightly.
My mind can go to “lonely” so easily in the emptiness.
Yet.
Yet.
Let it be stillness,
Silence.
Space does not call for filling, but for being.
Why did you affect me so?
It’s not because you needed to exert dominance over a middle-aged woman from Plainfield.
I already know that you consider my age a lesser status.
I already know that you consider my gender a lesser being.
I already know that you consider my culture degenerate.
Oh! and the way you startled when I mentioned my wife! That was precious. You explained that marriage was so banal… yet you kept bringing up heteronormativity.
I already know what you are.
I think, really, that I’m pissed because you apologized beforehand
– demonstrating that you knew your words were not welcome –
(did you even know that they were unsolicited? or do you walk through this world imagining that everything is open to your correction?)
and then did not hold back from doing that which was worthy of apology…
… after three months of explaining the superiority of your theology and philosophy.
I do not think less of you, I already know what you are.
But I’m rather disappointed in your god.
They sang to me,
a wriggling song about morning and waiting for sunrise
and about going out into the fresh snow.
Is it a good morning for singing? I ask them.
They stop short and stare at me.
Isn’t every morning?
What a strange and wondrous thing, Morning.
Waking to little feet, little nose –
Waking to scented candles –
Waking to small house sounds –
I do like being the first one up,
But second up is pretty nice, too.
Coffee’s ready.
Sgiob and I walked behind the house in the unblemished snow –
very crunchy, very good for snow dog angels –
and then out into the circle.
It’s very scrubby out there and less circular than
Potentially Circular
and that’s all right.
The day itself should be full of Potential
and hot coffee
and knitting.
Two kids,
Two dogs,
Our hearts,
and some sparkly angels.
The sky right now is deeply, evenly overcast, but there’s moonlight – so the light is evenly diffused and the whole sky glows gently.
I think I’m going to let the blog rest for a week or so during the darkest days in order for my spirit to do the same.
They did it!
It has been days and days (weeks) since I had the oomph to take a walk.
The dogs took matters into their own hands (paws) and began a campaign of convincing Mamaidh to take them walking.
they were right, it was beautiful!
Arcturus shone redly on one side, and a star I did not know by name on the other, but it shone near the hill of my horizon.
I am combing a beautiful star map and wondering could it have been Alhena?
Lovely to meet you, Alhena. These are Sgiob and Max. I’m Sparrow. Thank you for your beauty.