magic

AMOs Part 2 – Day 375

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Screenshot of my Sky Guide displaying Monoceros – Photo: L. Weikel

AMOs Part 2

You’ll recall from yesterday’s post that AMO stands for Alpha Monocerotid meteor shower, and the AMOs are scheduled to take place this evening.

Technically, the much vaunted burst of shooting stars in tonight’s sky is supposed to start just before midnight. But the wise ones are suggesting that we get ourselves outside, warmed up and our eyes adjusted to the light, by around 11:15 p.m. (eastern time).

The window in which the most meteors will be falling is predicted to be 15 to 20 minutes long, and take place sometime between approximately 11:15 and midnight. So it would seem best to get out there and simply wait. If we’re lucky, the clouds that were scudding across the sky about an hour ago will have dissipated.

Not Enough Heart

I feel as though my last few posts have been far too technical, emphasizing meteor showers and airport telephone charging kiosks, for instance, instead of the aspects of life that stir my soul.

Sometimes, though, the posts I end up writing are based on expediency. They may be keyed to the depth of my tiredness and ultimately simply reflect my commitment to fulfilling my 1111 Devotion and creating my daily Act of Power.

Lately I’ve been feeling as though my circadian rhythms still haven’t caught up to the fact that it’s getting dark really early. And all of a sudden, at just about 10:30, I hit an invisible force field that’s been causing me to fall asleep at my keyboard.

It’s been disconcerting.

Dragging Myself Outside

So here I am. It’s 11:12 p.m. and I am heading out to see if I can witness the AMOs. Karl is asleep on the couch. He’ll express regret that he didn’t come with me to see them (especially if I get outside and the night sky is clear and I manage to see them), but unlike me, he’ll be fine with having seen them vicariously.

While I won’t be able to take any photos, I will report on my experience before posting and going to sleep. I wonder how many of you will be out there at the same time, gazing upward and outward, trying to capture some wonder.

A Bust (Sigh)

Well, I drove myself to a place close by where we often go to experience an expansive vista for celestial events. This evening, perhaps in punishment for my rant against light pollution, there was just enough of a very high level cloud cover to capture an irritating abundance of reflected light, most obviously from the Doylestown area. Indeed, the light was so noticeable that I was actually able to capture it with my iPhone.

Reflected Light Pollution – Photo: L. Weikel

Indeed, everywhere I looked, circling 360 degrees as I stood in the middle of the remote country road, the orangey-yellow glow of artificial light on the ground illuminated the high clouds.

The biggest disappointment, though, was when I checked my Sky Guide App and saw that the Monoceros (from which direction the Alpha Monocerotids emanate) appears to be visible near the Milky Way (which was not discernible at all), and I also should have been able to see the constellation of Orion.

Alas, no dice. It was only when I fully comprehended that the vast, seemingly clear night sky was not even yielding the usual stars and constellations that I realized the high, thin cloud cover was, indeed, filtering out any chance of a ‘cluster’ experience.

One Little Piece of Magic

Even though the short road trip was to no avail meteor shower-wise, I did end up switching my radio from the news program Karl had tuned it to while I was away back to my iPod. I was surprised (but not) and had to smile when the iPod came on at the very beginning of Elton John’s Rocket Man.

What a perfect accompaniment. Turns out I wasn’t alone as I sought to catch a glimpse of this special celestial event. If nothing else, that sense of presence was enough to make the excursion well worth my while, and – if I’m honest? It feels a bit more significant than just a ‘little’ piece of magic.

Thanks, Karl.

(T-736)

Leonid Alert – Day 370

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Photo – travelandleisure.com

Leonid Alert

In case you didn’t realize it, the Leonid meteor showers will be taking place this weekend (Saturday and Sunday evening, November 16-17th, 2019). Had I realized it before this evening, I would’ve written this post last night. As it is, this won’t get automatically sent until 1:00 a.m., which I suppose could still work to provide a heads up for some of you.

When I first began this 1111 Devotion, I didn’t imagine my posts becoming a harbinger of meteor showers, but that’s apparently something that’s evolving out of this practice. I’ve written about the Delta Aquarids, Capricornids, and ‘advertised’ the Perseids. And now the Leonids.

I’m guessing it’s because looking up, increasing our awareness of the cosmos, promoting our realization that we inhabit an incredibly vast universe (and even that – my use of the singular ‘universe’ – feels limited) all feel deeply important to me. It feels important that we earnestly begin expanding our awareness of ‘reality’ (even more accurately, realities) sooner rather than later.

And That’s Just the Physical…

It’s amusing, I guess, that I consider watching the skies for ‘shooting stars’ to somehow be a gateway for us to consider other realities. Why would this be so, when they’re clearly part and parcel of this shared physical reality?

I guess I’m enamored with meteor showers because they have the ability to both confirm the physical fact that chunks of debris (from exploded planets and massive ice chunks and who knows what else) careen through space and burn to a cinder when slamming into our atmosphere – and also remind our spirits that we can experience astonished delight by simply witnessing a hoped-for but totally unpredictable point of light streak through the sky above our heads.

Why I Rant

I was out walking in the dark this evening, weaving my way along the stones and across the logs traversing the springs that bubble up along the path. The trees, having only recently lost their leaves, looked a bit naked in stark relief against the midnight blue of the star strewn sky.

But their nakedness allowed me to look up and actually see the bazillions of stars that are visible in places where light pollution barely exists. My heart cannot help but expand beyond all boundaries when realizing I’m staring into the Milky Way galaxy from my single little spot on Mother Earth.

When I look up and feel that vast sense of expansion, I yearn for everyone to stop what they’re doing and look up. I yearn for everyone to turn off the lights and look up. I yearn for everyone on Earth to stop for a moment and remember there’s so incredibly much more to life than what occupies most of our minds and consumes most of our thoughts.

Indulge the Magic

I’ve written about a couple different meteor events, but this is my first post about the Leonids. So tonight or tomorrow night, around or after midnight, turn off your lights. Go outside if weather permits and, if possible, spread out a blanket and allow yourself the luxury of both connecting your back (literally) to Mother Earth and your spirit to some magic.

(T-741)

Feathers – Day 358

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Feathers  

A couple days ago I needed to find a small backpack I knew I had in my closet. It’s actually more of a back sack, really, as it has no lining, no compartments, not even a zipper. It simply cinches shut with drawstring, and a flap flipped over the tied drawstring stays put with Velcro slipped through a metal ring.

Simple.

Extremely basic.

Not a backpack in which you might find treasures hidden in a secret pocket or compartment. Not a satchel that’s conducive to stowing sacred objects.

Imagine My Surprise

After rummaging through my closet, I finally located the pack under a variety of objects that had been randomly and haphazardly tossed on top of it. My purpose in searching for it was to consolidate my healing tools to accommodate a long trip. It was empty, as I’d expected, and I carefully added my rattles and notebook, my pendulum, and a few other items. My mesa too, of course, was going along for the ride.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I arrived at my destination and began unpacking these sacred items in preparation for a session with a client, only to find two these two feathers. I pulled out my mesa and underneath this cloth bundle filled with stones, crystals, and other sacred objects were these two beautiful, amazingly intact and unmolested feathers.

Confirmation of the Magic

To me, this was confirmation of the magic that infuses my life and, in particular, the ‘rightness’ of the work I was about to engage in. The details of how I’d come to have the appointment with the client I was traveling to see were a primer on synchronicity all on their own. I’d felt the importance of us meeting face to face, even though I could have easily arranged to work with them ‘long distance.’

But this time, for whatever reason, it felt important to establish a personal, tangible, eye-to-eye connection. Trust was essential. And the trip felt worthwhile.

Finding the feathers as I created sacred space were Spirit’s way of telling me, “Yes. This is important. Magic is afoot.”

And so it was.

Backsack – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-753)

Lest I Forget – Day 338

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My DMV Number – Photo: L. Weikel

Lest I Forget

Lest I forget why I’m sitting here at 11:29 p.m., scanning my experiences of the day to come up with something at least remotely interesting to write about, I need only glance at a photo I took this afternoon while sitting in the Dublin office of the PA Department of Motor Vehicles.

Karl, my son, has an unerring ability to hone right into my consciousness to plant a flag when I need it most.

1111 Devotion

The reason I’m sitting here on my overstuffed couch, doing my best to pull myself back from the brink of imminent sleep instead of tucking myself into a cuddle sandwich between Karl and Spartacus, is my son. I’m awake and trying to write something at least half coherent for you to read because I made a commitment. I accepted an internal challenge to engage in an Act of Power. I made the decision to engage in my 1111 Devotion.

And so it is that a photo on my iPhone once again saves the day. It brings me back, front and center, to precisely why I am sitting here listening to a screech owl wail its plaintive cry just outside our door instead of falling asleep.

It brings me back to the magic of life and the utter amazingness of what some might call coincidence and I might call communication.

Real ID

I recently received my reissued social security card in the mail. I’d had to go to the Social Security office some weeks ago to request a new one because producing your social security card is a non-negotiable requirement, among others, to securing a ‘Real ID.’ Apparently my regular Pennsylvania driver’s license will no longer be valid ID enabling me to, among other things, board a plane for a domestic flight as of 2020.

All afternoon, I kept thinking to myself that I needed to get over to the Licensing Center to take care of business. In my excitement to have received my new s.s. card, I forgot to bring my passport with me. So I had to drive all the way back home, retrieve that, and return yet again to the PennDoT.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I looked at my ticket upon signing in: ‘I111.’ I had to smile. Karl had been very present all weekend, with all of us convening here for the weekend. Each of us at various times brought him up and remarked how ‘close’ and almost tangible he felt this past weekend.

Here he was. Announcing his presence.

To Mention or Not to Mention

When my number was called, I approached the counter and was greeted by a young woman with a big smile and open, friendly manner. I’d tucked my ticket away in my wallet, and when I did so, briefly considered whether I would mention the significance of the randomly assigned number. “Nah,” I thought. “Too random and wooey for the DMV.”

So I took a double take when I heard my staff person laughingly say to her colleague in the next cubicle, “4:27! That’s my birthday!” (To be clear, she was referring to the fact that it was 4:27 p.m.)

At that moment, I realized not only that she was a kindred spirit in her own right, but that she also would totally appreciate the number of my ticket and its relevance to my life. So when I stood before her and she confirmed my ticket number, I was not surprised when she immediately exclaimed at how the capital ‘I’ looked like a one, thus creating an 1111.

Yes, she brought it up first. So I listened to the nudge.

Sharing the Magic

I rolled with her awareness of the ticket looking like it was 1111 and told her why that number has particular significance to me. Instead of having her look at me askance or judging me as being a woo-ey crystal wearing tree hugger (guilty as charged), we had an amazing discussion that touched upon loss, death, numerology, and a couple other fascinating topics.

Indeed, she relayed a story about a colleague of hers who retired only last year, who lost her 30-something son to a hit and run accident. Sudden. Horrific. Tragic. Just that day, she’d spoken to her friend and found herself worrying about how depressed her friend sounded.

When I mentioned that having the ‘1111’ show up today was my son’s way of connecting with me, she told me a lovely story about how her friend has eschewed the concept of going to a medium or psychic. It’s just not something she has any desire to do. Yet she had been feeling very unsettled over her son’s death – and felt like maybe he wasn’t at peace.

Well, apparently a friend of hers went to some kind of an event – or maybe it was even a private session, I’m not sure – and this woman’s son very clearly came through and gave the friend a message, which he asked her to relay back to his mother.

My DMV friend could barely contain her delight at the shift and comfort she’d witnessed her friend experience as a result of this communication.

They Find a Way

When my new friend commented on how surprised she was that her friend still had no desire to go to a medium herself, I couldn’t help but point out that perhaps there was no need. She’d been encouraged to see a medium to allay her worries and help her with her grief, but she’d refused. Her son, knowing that she needed to hear from him, very cleverly arranged to get his message through to her via her friend – who was open to going to a medium.

He knew she needed to hear from him and he found a way.

Love finds a way. And if Karl hadn’t reached out, sent me love, and rippled my awareness today, I would never have heard this story and had such a heartfelt conversation. At the DMV.

Lest I forget why I do what I do (wink).

(T-773)

New Moon Fire Magic – Day 294

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New Moon Fire – Photo: L.Weikel

New Moon Fire Magic         

For some reason I’m incapable of deciphering, this new moon felt particularly deserving of a fire. I would’ve written about our most exquisite fire last night except for the fact that I wanted to remind you to engage in the Perelandra Biodiversity protocol today.

I don’t often take photos of the fires that we have, but last night’s was a beauty from start to finish. It began with Karl laying a fire that ‘took’ immediately and vigorously.

Friendly New Moon Fire – Photo: L.Weikel

Despite its willingness to burn so wholeheartedly and without a lot of coaxing, it never exhibited any aggressive tendencies, which was fascinating to behold. It was as if it desired to ‘burn friendly’ right from the very beginning. It was, indeed, lovely.

An hour or so into the fire’s life – which again, was remarkably happy and practically jovial – it began emphasizing geometric shapes amid ethereal figures.

New Moon Fire Triangle – and friends – Photo: L. Weikel

It got to a point where the triangle essentially resembled an angular black hole. Both Karl and I were transfixed by the prominence of the triangle, which occasionally took on a pyramidal appearance, although that illusion (?) was hard to capture.

Karl eventually (and characteristically) needed to go to sleep. I, also characteristically, needed to sit with the fire in otherwise utter darkness until it was ‘complete.’ My devotion (using that term only just now, but feeling it wasn’t an accident that my fingers chose to write it) was rewarded.

At first, it was clear that there might be a fire spirit that wanted to see if it could frighten me into going to bed earlier than I’d anticipated.

Photo: L. Weikel

No dice. I wasn’t scared. I was, however, impressed by the ferocity with which the embers were choosing to express themselves. And in an effort to engage even further, I commented on what I was seeing and asked that the Spirit of the Fire speak to me, if it felt so moved. What would it like me to know or do? How could I be of service to the greater good?

And then…

I cannot even recall why I snapped the photo when I did. But when I looked at it later, the Being who’d appeared was undeniably apparent. And even though it remains crystal clear in this photo, let me assure you, the way it manifests in the ‘live’ photo I took with my iPhone makes the entire appearance all the more magical. I swear, it’s as if I could almost hear, “Help me, Obi-Wan. You’re my only hope.”

New Moon Magic, pure and simple.

New Moon Fire Spirit – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-817)

Listening Retreat Day One – Day 271

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The Vista at Amadell – LR Day One – Photo: L. Weikel

Listening Retreat Day One

I have exactly eight minutes to write a post this evening.

This is what happens when a Listening Retreat’s magic begins. Time folds in on itself.

We begin listening to the call of the voice that resides deep within. Deep, deep within. And we realize we may recognize that voice – and maybe its message is conveying a mystery – but it’s a mystery whose key lies solely within our own grasp.

The question is: are we willing? Are we willing to discover what our souls yearn for us to remember about our very own selves?

I think we are.

And I think this group is in for some seriously amazing experiences.

I’m feeling it.

(T-840)

I’m Gonna Pay – Day 268

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Amadell Carp – Photo: L. Weikel

I’m Gonna Pay

Oh man. I know I’m gonna pay for this one way or another. But the piper will almost certainly collect his due in the most obvious way: levying a hefty surcharge on my checked bag.

It’s harder than I thought it would be, preparing for a Listening Retreat that’s far away from my home. I think I’ve known, in the back of my head, that this day would come. But it’s rough.

My First True “Away” Game

My evening’s angst issues from the fact that all my other Listening Retreats have taken place within a 20 miles radius of my home. It’s been eminently convenient. Too much so, I fear.

I’ve always made sure to bring a plethora of divinatory decks and books for my ‘retreaters’ to play with and peruse. I’m a huge advocate of giving myself and others access to cool stuff that entices us to steal some time away from everything and everybody and just indulge in…fun.

So it’s been excruciating for me to have to winnow my resources. As it is, all of you who’ve been with me through these past 268 days can take three guesses (and the first two don’t count) on what is the primary source of weight in my single bag-to-be-checked. You guessed it!

Books and Decks

Yup, books and various card decks that I want to share with my retreaters. And while I know that my hosts at Amadell are avid collectors themselves (having shared many a retreat with me through the years, they know ‘the good stuff’), I’m feeling naked. I’m realizing how much anxiety I quell within by having the luxury of telling myself, “I can always run home and get that book if I need it.”

Not this time!

And so it is I am forced to exercise some discernment. Some discipline. Although…I’m thinking that tomorrow’s reckoning with the airline when I check my bag is going to expose my grievous lack of discipline. Or at least the sad truth that I could’ve exercised a whole lot more.

The bottom line is simply my excitement to experience a Listening Retreat in a whole new venue. Yes, I’ve been to Amadell before (and all of you know first hand how much I love it) – but never specifically for a Listening Retreat.

Spirits of the Land Come Forward

And it always seems to me that during a Listening Retreat, no matter where I’ve held them, the Spirits of the Land we’re on reveal themselves in fascinating ways.

Thus, as I packed more and more goodies into my suitcase all day today, I’ve actually known, deep down, that They – the Spirits of the Land – will be the stars of the show. They will be the ones who show up and ask for a willing ear.

My Security Blanket

The books won’t matter. Nor will the decks. What will matter is the willingness of the people who are attending this retreat. Their willingness to trust my suggestions enough to witness the magic.

Ah yes. Just admitting all of this has led me to the realization that the contents of my suitcase are simply my security blanket. (Even if it ends up being an expensive one, when they weigh it.)

The magic of every Listening Retreat is in the land itself. I just need to get them there. The rest will take care of itself.

(T-843)

Dahlia? No, Iris! – Day 210

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Irises – Photo: L. Weikel

Dahlia? No, Iris!

The title to this post is actually an inside joke with someone who may or may not even read it. But I suspect it’ll be read, so I’m going to leave it.

Karl and I came across these exquisite blooms today on our walk. I was surprised – we’d walked past these clumps of green and white striped leaves for a couple weeks now, and I never had the slightest inkling they were irises – until today. I’d actually thought/assumed (always dangerous, I know) that they were just some type of pretty ornamental grasses.

So when we came upon them today, I had to celebrate their beauty and take their photo. They were simply too pretty not to share.

But then, when I walked up to the blossoms and took their photo, I was amazed.

Take a look at this closeup:

“Dragon” Iris – Photo: L. Weikel

This stunning flower is the spitting image of a fire-breathing dragon. And as soon as I saw this Dragon staring me in the face, I exclaimed with delight and knew I would share it with you this evening.

I chose Raven ‘squared’ today (once again, meaning I had a ‘blank’ card on the bottom of the deck when I chose Raven – upright, as it happened – on my day). Raven, as I’ve elaborated upon in a variety of posts (here, here, and here, to name just a few), is all about magic.

I’ll admit that I made some decisions today that have a somewhat magical tinge to them, and I even had some magical conversations, too. But when I looked at that iris head on, face-to-face, as it were, through my iPhone’s lens, I was bowled over by the face of the dragon staring back at me. And while I see it breathing fire, I also sensed it’s a tad playful and may even be laughing at me.

And all of this reminded me of a certain Dahlia I know; a courageous, ferocious – and most definitely magical – beast… And I had to laugh at the floral ambiguity I could playfully create in this post.    

As we begin a new week, may you find the magic in your life – and don’t be surprised if it’s hiding in plain sight.

(T-901)

Best Easter Egg EVER – Day 160

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Karl’s egg 19 April 2014 – Photo: L. Weikel

Best Easter Egg EVER

I’ve always loved Easter.

The memories I have of Easters growing up are not whizz bang affairs. In fact, it’s funny – when I think back, as I sit here, trying to decide what memories I might share that could convey why my heart always seems to lift when I think about Easter, I realize how magical my thinking was…even back then. It wasn’t necessarily the literal stuff of Easter that I loved, it was what lived in my imagination.

I loved hunting for Easter eggs. Oh my goodness. Not the public hunts, put on by schools or churches. The hunts I cherish are the ones that took place in the living room of the farmhouse I grew up in.

My brother Henry is 16 years older than I. My mother would let him go out to see his girlfriend (and eventual wife), Diane, on the night before Easter only if he promised to come home and ‘help the Easter Bunny’ hide the hard boiled eggs I’d dyed that night.

The Hunt for the Eggs

I swear that was the best part about Easter. Finding the eggs that The Rabbit hid (as she came to be known in our household – Karl’s and mine – as our guys were growing up) was a challenge that had the potential to occupy me the whole day. Inevitably, there would be one or two eggs that were so well hidden that it would literally take me hours to find them. Sometimes my brother (if he could remember) would have to play that game of “warmer” to help me.

Truth be told, I think he probably had no recollection of where he’d hidden them and was only sending me on a wild goose chase anyway. At least a couple eggs over the years weren’t discovered until months (or perhaps years) later. They were completely desiccated by the time they were accidentally found, so who knows how long they’d excitedly waited to fulfill the dream of all true Easter eggs, of being reunited with their colorful siblings, only to wither away, forgotten and alone? Yeah. Sad.

The magical thinking that really made Easter special for me, though, is the image I’ve always carried in my head of the true Easter Rabbit. For the life of me, I don’t know why the thought of this creature didn’t scare me, especially since I cannot stand people in costumes or masks. I think it may be because I had such a sense that “she” was in fact a real Rabbit – just larger than normal – not a person dressed up as a bunny. But…wow.

The Reason for My Connection to ‘The Rabbit’

You’ll never believe it, but I just realized that on some level, my sense of and connection to the Easter Bunny was a precursor to the literal experiences with power animals that I would start having some 25 years later. (I’ve honestly never thought about it in this context before this moment. Wow.)

Another reason Easter is a favorite holiday is because I was born on Easter Sunday. So periodically, over the years, my birthday would again fall on Easter. But it always felt special, somehow, that I’d managed to arrive on that day (even if the day was nearly literally over by the time I arrived).

And I’ve always been partial to all the other babies (bunnies, chicks, lambs, pansies, robins, ducklings, piglets, daffodils) that abound in the springtime (hence, Easter-time), too. Indeed, even at church (raised Catholic), the concepts of death, rebirth and ascension appealed to me.

Anyway, it’s always felt like Easter was ‘my’ day – no matter when it fell on the calendar.

The Tradition – and Magic – Continued

Growing up, my kids knew my delight in Easter, and hopefully shared it, too. I’d even commandeered my eldest son, Karl, to help ‘The Rabbit’ hide the eggs for his younger brothers a couple of years, just like my mom had recruited my brother.

So imagine this: On April 19, 2014, my two adult sons (and Tiffany – who was meeting us for the first time!) were indulging me by coloring eggs on ‘Easter eve.’ I’d placed a pristine white egg in a cup of boiling water with red and blue food coloring and a dash of white vinegar (purple being my favorite color) and just let it sit. I wanted to see just how deep a hue of purple I could make this egg.

After it sat in the dye for quite a while, I dipped my tablespoon into the cup and raised it to the surface. The egg was covered with random bubbles, but it looked like it had ripened to a really deep and satisfying purple. I placed it carefully in the cardboard egg carton with all the rest.

We Could Feel His Presence

Mind you, this was two and a half years after Karl had died. He was, as he still is, thought about and talked about frequently. But we were especially reminiscing about prior Easters with him as we introduced Tiffany to our traditions. We could feel not only how much we missed Karl but how much Karl was missing us.

Imagine, then, our goosebumps and stunned expressions when I picked up my purple egg and looked at it carefully. Not only was his name clearly written on the egg, but it also looked like it was written on a background of stars. And even more amazing, the letters of his name actually look like his style of printing. Random bubbles?

As we’re fond of saying: YCMTSU.

Happy Easter, Happy Passover, Happy Springtime, Happy Rebirth and Renewal.

Believe.

(T-951)

P.S.: We love you, Karl. And again, a hearty well done on that manifestation!

Paths and Choices – Day 157

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Paths and Choices – Photo: S. Abbott

Paths and Choices

When we’re in our late teens and early twenties, even into our thirties, it’s easy to imagine that we need only set our sights on our intended destination and zzzzzip – if we’re dedicated and disciplined enough, we will head straight toward that goal.

A lot of us, I’m told, did just that. We ‘knew’ what we wanted and we went after it. Some of us barely stopped to breathe, even if we managed to find a person to love, and then decided to breed.

Breathe. Breed. We do it. We did it.

Some of us didn’t really and truly know what we wanted back then – but we knew we needed to do something.  So we picked a thing and did it. Set our sights ahead, put our heads down, and did the work to reach the goal.

It’s Cliché, Perhaps, But…

More times than we might like to admit, though, when we picked our heads up and saw where we’d actually plowed our way toward, we realized not only that the destination wasn’t anywhere near what the brochure had described but – wow – we’d missed a ton of scenery along the way.

I could get into some long dissertation on the paths we choose and the end of the road. How we feel about the choices we’ve made when we realize there are no longer an infinite number of choices available nor all that many decades left to explore those choices (if we’re lucky). But naaah. I’ll pass.

The Magic of Choice

The photo at the top of this post, from a tulip festival in Seattle earlier today, reflects to me the magic of choice that we’re faced with all the time. We can walk straight ahead, staying on the gravel path that’s been set there deliberately for us to follow, to make it easier, to make our choice abundantly clear – but which leads to what? A ‘concrete’ destination? Or where? A destination so predictable but impersonal that we need an ID card to swipe us through ‘security?’

Portal to the uncharted – Photo: S. Abbott

Or we can meander off, following the curving cobalt path that needs to be trod a bit more carefully (so as not to kill everything we step upon). And just where does the cobalt path lead? It’s a mystery. Perhaps there is no definitive destination, but the path simply intersects, over the horizon, with other colorful paths that lead to forests or mountains or sacred fires burning on lakeshores that connect us to forgotten sisterhoods.

 

Vista from beyond the portal – Photo: S. Abbott

That curvy cobalt path sure does look enticing to me.

(T-954)