Oh my goodness. We have a big week ahead. Instead of a coherent theme for tonight’s post, I just want to mention a couple things.
New Month
In case you haven’t noticed, the usually interminable month of January is coming to a conclusion tomorrow (today by the time you read this). Yes, we’re firmly ensconced in the year of 2022. And as that new month comes zooming up to greet us this week, we encounter a couple of other firsts.
New Moon
Another ‘new’ this week is that we have a new moon taking place, for all intents and purposes, tomorrow night. Technically, the new moon doesn’t occur until 46 minutes past midnight tomorrow (Monday) night, meaning it actually takes place on Tuesday. I want to give you a heads up now, though, so you can take a day to reflect on the intentions you want to set for the coming month.
The best thing about this new moon, however, is that it’s technically the first new moon after the first full moon to occur in 2022. Why is that special?
New Year
Because it means this new moon is also the beginning of the Chinese New Year. Which brings with it yet another opportunity to claim a fresh start and a clean slate. I think I enjoy Chinese New Year because it gives me another opportunity to integrate or jettison all the stuff I’ve realized in January I perhaps should have left behind in 2021.
This year we’re entering the Year of the Water Tiger.
I’m going to have to poke around and find some interesting tidbits about what a Water Tiger year has in store for us. (At least some highights!?)
We managed to get out for a walk today! Photo: L. Weikel
New Friend
Finally, I’m going to have to introduce you to a new friend who came prancing into my life just today.
But in the meantime, on the 1st of February (this Tuesday), I hope you’ll join me by taking part in the EoP Biodiversity Process.
I’ve written about this a number of times, and although I try not to harangue you about it, you can read about it here. Taking part probably ‘costs’ you a total of 5 minutes out of your life. And yet, on some level, if you pay attention, you can literally feel the Spirits of (Your) Land perk up and feel appreciated when you follow the very simple steps to engage the process.
It really is remarkable to consider how little effort it takes to bring life, attention, and balance to your little patch of home (regardless of whether you own or rent or have lawn or land or not). All you need is responsibility for where you lay your head.
Oooh baby, I need a walk. I got caught up in an appointment that required me to be inside all afternoon. When I emerged from my sojourn into other realms, the sun had set.
I stood at the kitchen door, staring at the western sky, the storm door caked with frost and ice crystals from repeated openings to accommodate our four-leggeds. I yearned to walk, but there was zero enthusiasm for it from Karl or the pups. I could sense the temperature had plunged, and I didn’t want to become chilled to the bone.
But the colors left in the sun’s wake were tantalizing. If anything can get me out of the house it’s a sunset with an exploding palette. For once, though, I yielded to the plaintive glances of Pacha and Brutus. (I tend to make them ‘walk off’ their reticence – and had to do so almost the entire past week.)
Too freaking cold to walk – Photo: L. Weikel
Tonight
There’s always the chance that I might decide to take a walk – even if a short one – on my own. This is especially true if the sky is tantalizingly clear or there are meteor showers or other phenomena occurring through the night. But Karl just said, “I won’t stand in your way; do what you need to do. But I promise you – it is cold.”
In the end, hunger won out.
Something tells me I made a wise choice. Perhaps this screenshot of The Weather Channel I took only minutes ago? Yeah, that’s persuasive. If it feels like -5 degrees, I have no interest in proving how I can power through it.
It’s funny, now that I think about it. Was it more of an Act of Power to say no to that part of myself that demands I walk every day? Or should I have made myself do it? Yet again, my spontaneous ‘sighting’ of the Rune Isa earlier in the week and integration of its message of Standstill echoes in my thoughts.
I can revel in the snow and take that yearned-for walk tomorrow. Tonight I needed to be quiet, power down, and allow my batteries to recharge. (And – p.s. – judging from this screenshot, below, I should’ve gone to bed a bit earlier. This is what can happen when you fall asleep at your keyboard! YIKES!)
Oops. Shouldn’t fall asleep with your hands on the keyboard. Photo: L. Weikel
I’m sure I’ve written about it before, but I love the anticipation of a major snowstorm. There’s a slightly different feel to the prospect of getting ‘snowed in’ since the pandemic began, but the magic persists in my heart. Standing outside in the darkness of the night with only the faint hissing sound of snowflakes as they race each other to the earth, I feel connected to everything.
Can you tell? I just came inside from taking the pups out before bed. Pacha wanted to scamper about and play in the falling snow while Brutus couldn’t do his business fast enough before heading back inside.
I’m sure he’ll play with Pacha tomorrow. (She makes it irresistible.) Just like cavorting on frozen puddles. It took me a couple of times showing them how I slide on the puddles, but eventually Pacha realized just how much fun that could be. And yet again, Brutus ‘likes’ it, but mostly seems to only join in because Pacha eggs him on.
Moments before Brutie’s legs slipped out from under him – Photo: L. Weikel
Blizzard Up the Coast
Here I am, waxing rhapsodic over the prospect of a ‘major snowstorm,’ (“Kenan”) when along the coast (literally) they’re facing the arrival of a full-on blizzard. Yes, it’s true: I would relish that experience. I know I should probably be more ‘adult’ and pragmatically consider the ramifications of such a weather event. But I think I have an idealized notion of experiencing a blizzard from reading the Little House on the Prairie* books.
The idea of snuggling up all warm and toasty in front of a fire, reading books, making stew, and reveling in the muffled silence of the outside world is compelling. It also neatly dovetails with the rest of the messages I’ve been receiving this week, especially the one brought by the Rune Isa (Standstill). Truth be told, I’m still working on integrating that message.
Not Even That Much
Sadly, though, it seems we’re not even going to get that much snow in the grand scheme of things. Maybe 6” or so? Ugh, I just checked the Weather Channel again and it’s down to a predicted 3” – 5”. How disappointing. Hardly the 24” – 30” they’re calling for Boston to receive.
Maybe I’ll post this and go back outside all by myself. We’ve kept the Christmas lights up for just such an occasion. Well, brightening the dark nights no matter what – but also making the snow look like stained glass during storms like this.
I’m realizing how many little things about this time of year bring me joy.
I definitely feel a need to listen to the snow. No human voices. Just Nature.
Mission Accomplished! I won’t lie. It was a struggle of epic proportions. But we met The Precious Challenge head-on and won. It took a concerted and strategic effort executed by two adult humans to wrangle that feline into our makeshift means of transportation to the vet.
As you know, the plotting began last night. Karl and I vowed to be on top of the situation so we could avoid canceling yet another appointment due to Precious ‘going missing.’ Since Karl gets up earlier than I do, I urged him to be extra vigilant about remaining aware of her location. Ideally, he would nonchalantly encourage her to remain in the living room until it was time to leave for the appointment. Surreptitiously closing off doorways of escape was part of that strategy.
All was going well until I came downstairs. Karl had just gone outside to monitor the pups when I checked on Presh in the living room. I saw her dart behind the loveseat in the dining room. Check. At least I knew where she was. Before closing the door between the kitchen and the dining room, I made sure the door leading up the pie-shaped stairway to our second floor was shut tight. Granted, there was no latch, but it wedged snugly tight. I was as satisfied as I could be under the circumstances.
The Chase
This wouldn’t be a post if it didn’t end up being an absolute debacle. Forty five minutes before our appointment, I had an uneasy feeling. “Is Precious still in the dining room?”
Karl checked. “Nope. Can’t find her. Oh – and the door to upstairs was pried open.”
“Aaarrggh.” The lack of latches on various doors in our house is a recurring problem. Truth be told, it’s rarely an issue – except (mostly) when trying to keep puppies or runaway cats from messing around unsupervised in the bedrooms upstairs.
We immediately launched into a full-scale search. Initial tactics, however, were deliberately gentle and persuasive. We locked the pups into their crate and opened up a can of her favorite food. Shutting all the doors, including the one between the living/dining room and kitchen, and the door leading from our bedroom (which is located at the top of the other set of pie-shaped stairs leading from the kitchen to our bedroom) was paramount. We knew we were going to need to trap her.
She’s been known to hide in our room and furtively creep down the stairs to eat from her bowl in the kitchen. She seemed insulted we’d think she’d fall for that. Lame.
I knew her trail was cold when we heard ZERO blood-curdling mrrrows. The house was strangely silent. Had that brat somehow managed to sneak outside when Karl came inside with the pups? I was crestfallen. I know how stressed out she is and how tremendously much better she felt after her first shot last September. All I wanted to do was help her feel better.
Found Our Quarry
I heard the guttural howls a millisecond before Karl yelled, “Found her!” Ah. She was in our bedroom.
Karl, on his knees and already armed with a pillow case and flashlight, was peering under the bed when I crested the stairs. A broom lay at the ready. No human arms would be willingly flayed if it could be avoided.
“I can’t see her,” he said grimly as I continued calling to her in a sing-song voice. A moan that sounded like it was coming from the gates of hell tipped us off that she wasn’t buying it.
I got on my knees on the other side of the bed. Nope. No sign of her. Except – the material covering the box spring seemed to be hanging a bit low in one place.
“She’s in the box spring. She ripped that sucker open and is inside the framework.” We laughed at her psychotic efforts to evade being given a medicine that would make her feel dramatically better.
Our box spring is split (precisely because of those pie shaped stairs), and Karl lifted the one harboring our fugitive. Oh! The yowls of agony. Nevertheless, she soon realized the futility (or thought she could escape again) and jumped out of the box spring, scrambling down the steps toward the kitchen.
THWARTED. The door was closed. She was trapped between the closed door at the bottom of the steps and the two of us at the top. The stairwell only amplified her horrific gurglings of terror.
Bagged Her
Once she realized the jig was up, she continued to struggle, but did allow me to envelope her in a hooded sweatshirt nearby, which we then used to ‘double-bag’ her by placing the sweatshirt into the aforementioned pillowcase.
She didn’t struggle. She surrendered – if far from quietly. Oh no, she wanted the entire household to know that she was being led to her execution.
The funny thing is, once bagged, Precious and I went straight out to the car, strapped ourselves into the driver’s seat and drove up to the vet. She didn’t move a muscle. (But she did continue to moan pathetically.)
The Appointment
Doris, my partner in crime at the vet’s office, teased me. There was Precious, laying on the examining table, purring contentedly. I assure you, it was not a nervous terror purr. No. She was happy as a clam and making my harrowing story of shredded box springs seem quite unbelievable. “Sure Lisa,” she said with a grin.
She didn’t even flinch when she received her shot.
And since we came home? She once again is giving off vibes that say, “Oh Mommy. I feel sooo much better already. Why didn’t we do this a couple weeks ago?”
Why didn’t we indeed.
Peaceful Precious (this evening) – Photo: L. Weikel
Precious After Landing on the Back of the Couch – Photo: L. Weikel
The Precious Challenge
I’m not looking forward to tomorrow, which I can only characterize in my mind as the “Precious Challenge.” Not aprecious challenge. The Precious Challenge.
As I sat here this evening getting ready to write, I nearly jumped out of my skin when Precious inelegantly jumped onto the back of the couch. She does this periodically, making quite the scratchy racket as her back claws work to gain purchase on the throw draped over the back. It scares/surprises me every time she does it. The effort to heave her not insignificant body onto the back of the couch really does create a sharp, sudden clatter. The drama of it all just seems so unnecessary. Yet, inevitably, I never see it coming until she’s literally in my face. She is, after all, jumping up from behind the couch.
Tomorrow, though (and I have to write this quietly because if she gets wind of it, she’ll disappear for a few days), we’re going to run up to the vet’s office. She needs another shot of steroids for her auto-immune disorder. And trust me – when I say it’s going to be a challenge, I’m not kidding.
Don’t Be a Trickster, Precious! – Photo: L. Weikel
Hot Mess
Precious, as I’ve written previously, is our kitty who’s riddled with anxiety issues. Making matters worse, back in September she was also diagnosed with an auto-immune disorder that causes some mighty uncomfortable skin issues. I’m pretty sure these two conditions are connected, too, because as soon as she received her first steroid shot, both Karl and I could feel a sense of huge relief and calm emanate from her energetically. The corollary to that, of course, is that, as the effects of the steroids have lessened, especially recently, her misery and paranoia have escalated once again.
Sadly, she makes it really difficult to give her consistent treatment because she has an uncanny internal warning system that alerts her whenever I’m getting ready to take her to the vet. She’s also been extremely uncooperative in taking her hyper-thyroid medication.
The steroid shot’s effectiveness lasts about three months. This tracks, since she was diagnosed in September, received her shot then, and only started relapsing with her worst symptoms over the past month. She seems to be degenerating rather quickly, though – yet she is her own worst enemy.
Had To Cancel
Two weeks ago I’d set up an appointment for her steroid shot and had to cancel because she got wind of it and hid in the cellar for a day.
I’m hoping we don’t have a repeat of that scenario again tomorrow. Which is why I’ve labeled our appointment tomorrow The Precious Challenge. I hate seeing her suffer and hope she can sense my desire to ease her discomfort and allow that to overcome her terror over anything out of her routine.
I love when I start a post having no idea where it’s going (indeed, if it’s going anywhere), only to have something quite unexpected spontaneously appear. That’s what happened last night, when I had the image and name of a rune – Isa – ‘Standstill’ – practically show up and do a tap dance on my laptop.
I yearned to write something interesting last night, or at least descriptive of the weird feelings I was having, yet none of my ‘go-to’ divinatory tools appealed to me. I tried a couple of different types of decks and as I sat holding them in my hands, I kept getting a clear, “No.”
And so I sort of wrote around my feelings (which haven’t abated much, yet, I’m sad to report) until – boom! – a very specific rune demanded my mind’s attention.
Runes
I haven’t gone back into my journals today to get specifics, but it is quite possible that Karl and I picked Runes on our walks even before we began choosing Medicine Cards*. I remember buying our first set of Runes (included with The Book of Runes* by Ralph Blum) back at Sagittarius Books. We probably ended up owning half the inventory of that gem of inner transformation tucked away in an alley in New Hope. I can honestly say that bookstore was the lifeline that fed my soul and opened me up to the life I knew I wanted and needed to live. I miss it.
Actually, I’m sure our consistent use of Runes pre-dated our work with the Medicine Cards* because I now recall picking a Rune – Hagalaz – on the day I took a huge tumble, face-first, into a local creek. I wrote about that experience and what unfolded in our lives afterward, in my book, Owl Medicine*.
I guess I’m mentioning all of this because I am fascinated by how I plucked the name of the Rune that appeared in my mind’s eye last night out of thin air – or at least the wisps of memory. It’s been years since I worked with them.
Last Night’s Runic Appearance
While I felt quite certain that just the acknowledgment of the keyword associated with this Rune, Standstill, hit the nail on the head of what I felt I’m experiencing (rather ungracefully), I almost gasped when I once again read the explanation of Isa in The Book of Runes by Ralph Blum. And I have to share it with you:
Isa – Standstill/That Which Impedes/Ice
“The winter of the spiritual life is upon you. You may find yourself entangled in a situation to whose implications you are, in effect, blind. You may be powerless to do anything except submit, surrender, even sacrifice some long-cherished desire. Be patient, for this is the period of gestation that precedes a birth.
Positive accomplishment is unlikely now. There is a freeze on useful activity, all your plans are on hold. You may be experiencing an unaccustomed drain on your energy and wonder why: A chill wind is reaching you over the ice floes of old outmoded habits.
Trying to hold on can result in shallowness of feeling, a sense of being out of touch with life. Seek to discover what it is you are holding onto that keeps this condition in effect, and let go. Shed, release, cleanse away the old. That will bring on the thaw.
Usually Isa requires a sacrifice of the personal, the ‘I.’ And yet there is no reason for anxiety. Submit and be still, for what you are experiencing is not necessarily the result of your actions or habits, but of the conditions of the time against which you can do nothing. What has been full must empty; what has increased must decrease. This is the way of Heaven and Earth. To surrender is to display courage and wisdom.
At such a time, do not hope to rely on help or friendly support. In your isolation, exercise caution and do not stubbornly persist in attempting to work your will. Remain mindful that the seed of the new is present in the shell of the old, the seed of unrealized potential, the seed of the good. Trust your own process, and watch for signs of spring.”
I’m having the hardest time coming up with anything worthwhile to write about tonight. Nothing feels ‘right.’ I’m trying to pinpoint my feelings and I must reluctantly admit they’re more elusive than usual. Disconnected. Maybe that’s what I’m feeling? Perhaps. It’s not the usual type of ‘disconnected,’ though – you know, when you wish you could reach out and talk to someone but no one fits the bill? Or when all your trusted closest people are unavailable to talk or text…or hug.
The disconnection I’m feeling right now is more of an existential one, I guess. Like, what really matters? While it feels really selfish to do so, sometimes it feels right to just pull in my ‘feelers’ and focus on Karl, the cats, and the pups. Even my kids – they’re not kids anymore. They have their own lives, their own daily rhythms and responsibilities. They know I’m here if they need me.
Wait and See
I can confidently state that I don’t feel like commenting on anything going on in the outside world, such as the saber-rattling at Ukraine’s border. It feels like we all just need to wait and see.
That seems to be a strategy most of us would be wise to employ at the moment. When you think about all the crises we’re facing in the world, ultimately, we just need to wait and see. I’m not advocating complacence. But I am suggesting that, right now, at least in this moment, action may not be the best option. I’m reminded of the rune for Standstill: a single vertical line.
It makes me laugh to think how annoyed I used to get whenever I would pull the Standstill rune. Maybe that’s a tip-off that I really am embracing being a crone: I’m not only embracing Standstill – I’m advocating it.
Isa – The Rune of Standstill
I contemplated choosing a card for us as a collective and not a single deck or oracle felt ‘right’ to me. And yet look at that – a message came through anyway. I haven’t picked a rune in a very long time (it’s literally been years). And yet one jumped out of my fingertips as I sat here ruminating and demanded to be heard.
Isa – Standstill. Yes. That feels like the message I’m receiving and, perhaps, am being encouraged to convey. Perhaps my sense of disconnection is to be embraced (for now).
One glance at a compilation of the photos headlining my blog posts (or just a scroll through the photos on my iPhone) will reveal my love affair with clouds. And of course you guys know all about it, having experienced my cloud obsession first-hand. I doubt it’s possible for me to go more than two or three days without emitting a cloud shout-out of some form or another.
So you can imagine how excited I was this morning when I read this article in the Washington Post. The headline itself caught my attention and seemed to be calling my name. My goodness! Including both a reference to NASA and a request that I ‘look into the clouds’ in a single headline? My attention was snagged.
And what a cool program I stumbled upon! I knew I would write about this tonight because as soon as I started reading the links, sharing this coolness with all of you was the first thing that came to mind. That’s because I know there are several cloud watchers among you who are at least equally as smitten with our water vapor overlords as I am.
And besides…SCIENCE!
Similar to the Cicadas
I’m reminded of the tracking app I wrote about when the 17 year cicadas were just starting to emerge from their slumber this past spring (Cicada Safari). I submitted a number of photographs to that data collection effort when I spotted my first several emerging, but I didn’t follow up with many more submissions once the cicadas really started humming along around here.
But I digress.
Photo: L. Weikel
NASA GLOBE Cloud Challenge
The initial ‘citizen scientist’ submissions, should you choose to participate, will be part of the NASA GLOBE Cloud Challenge, which is running from January 15 – February 15, 2022. All it takes for you to become a ‘citizen scientist’ is having access to an iPhone or computer.
Cloud cover above the Earth obviously has a huge impact upon weather and transient warming or cooling of the planet. As climates are changing at a more and more rapid pace, scientists are looking to clouds for insight into how they’re impacting (or being impacted by) these changes.
Of particular interest is for us ‘regular people’ to provide data from below the clouds at the same time scientists are receiving input from satellites flying above those clouds. Once you become a part of the research effort by downloading the GLOBE Observer app, you can choose to be reminded 15 minutes ahead of when specific satellites will be flying above your location. You can choose to be reminded of flyovers on certain days of the week, only once/week, or never. And you you can also opt-in to take a photo of the sky at what’s known as ‘solar noon’ (and receive a reminder of exactly when that occurs in your time zone).
NASA GLOBE Cloud Gaze Project
You don’t even need to have access to the sky itself (oddly enough). That’s because you can instead apply your love of clouds in what’s called the NASA GLOBE Cloud Gaze. In order to move science forward in that project, you look at photos of clouds already in the database and help identify and categorize them.
Beware of Rabbit Holes
I have to give fair warning. There are lots of interesting vignettes on the sites I’ve linked above, as well as on the app itself, that explain the science behind why NASA is gathering this data. It’s easy to go from link to link and lose track of time. This article, for instance.
Personally, I love being a part (even if small) of a global effort to understand climate better. It makes sense that gathering data from as many people and areas around the world as possible will exponentially increase the speed with which scientists can increase their knowledge and draw conclusions that may help us adapt to the changes that are already occurring.
I figure I’m looking up and admiring them anyway, so I might as well contribute in some way, too. And just in case, I thought I’d alert my kindred spirits, too.
Today’s walk was especially fun and refreshing. For one thing, we got on the road at least an hour earlier than we’ve been managing most days. There are trade-offs, of course – no stars splashed across the midheaven. But it also got up to 30 degrees today, which made the entire excursion much more pleasant for all four of us.
Indeed, Brutus and Pacha stayed home yesterday – we just didn’t have the heart to drag them out in those frigid temperatures. Brutus missed a walk earlier in the week after he dug his feet in and refused to budge an inch as we started across the lawn. Nope! I wasn’t having that, so I turned right around and took him back into the house. He spent our ‘walkie’ time cooling his heels (keeping them warm, actually) in his crate. I think he was stunned that he had to spend an hour all by himself, while Pacha gamely walked like a big girl. He does not like to be left behind!
It may seem like I was over-reacting or not trying hard enough to talk him into walking with us. But in fact I nipped that behavior in the bud because about a week ago (when it started getting really cold out) he just stopped in the middle of the road and insisted upon being carried. We were only about halfway through our walk. (I know, I know. Don’t judge! I’m stubborn too and I really thought I could out-wait him. But his balking was causing the rest of us to freeze – so I relented and carried him home. Let me assure you: schlepping an extra 16 lbs. over a mile or two is exhausting.) The crate was the only option if he was planning on being a jerk again.
Spirit Bird and Hummingbird – Photo: L. Weikel
No Stars, But…
Bright sunshine. Slightly more pleasant temperatures. And the opportunity to introduce the pups to the unexpected delights of frozen puddles! I wish I could easily post the video I took of them discovering the fun of slipping and sliding on the intermittent puddles frozen in fields beside the road. Oh my, they were so cute.
We also encountered a stunning cloud seemingly diving toward Earth from the heavens above. It almost looked like it could be diving toward a baby bird straining to meet its mommy, or perhaps a hummingbird. I’m including a couple different shots of our experience of those amazing clouds because each provides a different perspective. I almost want to call the biggest one cloud the ‘Holy Spirit’ cloud, since it reminds me of how I envisioned the Holy Spirit descending upon the apostles when I heard that story in church as a child.
Oh! And because we were walking while it was still light out, we also were graced with the presence of two very plump Eastern Bluebirds and three Red Shouldered Hawks.
Yes, there are trade-offs to consider with almost all decisions we make. And even though we didn’t hear any owls calling their love songs (it was a little early for such canoodling), I’ve no doubt we made out in a very big way today.
Have you ever had that experience where you write down (or type) a word that you use often, perhaps even daily, and it suddenly trips you up? You can’t stop looking at it. You’ve spelled it the way you always do (or at least you think you have), but no matter how hard you try to just move on, in this moment, it looks misspelled. It looks wrong somehow. So you try to spell it another way but that doesn’t look right either.
I wonder about that. What little blip or glitch took place in side my brain that has me looking at a word I’ve seen and spelled and used a million times, only to have it feel entirely unfamiliar?
Perhaps it’s got nothing whatsoever to do with the insides of my brain. Maybe it’s simply a function of perspective.
Not Always Words
Actually, my most recent experience of this phenomenon didn’t have anything to do with words. It had to so with a photo, an image I collected.
The photo is of the reflection of some birch trees in a puddle that’s on the verge of freezing solid.
I know exactly where I took the photo and how the milieu appeared to me at the time I took it. Indeed, it stopped me dead in my tracks. There was a quality to the moment that demanded I capture it.
The thing is, every single time I try to ‘save’ the photo in my laptop’s library, it refuses to behave. It apparently prefers a sideways stance. But that’s when that funny feeling suddenly starts up.
It looks right to me sideways. In fact, when the photo is on its side, I’m reminded of something that feels like a visceral memory. I’m reminded of a view from the inside of a cave looking outward, and it feels like I’ve been here before.
I feel like I’m looking up and outward. Photo: L. Weikel
Change in Perspective
All of which, again, reminds me of the power of changing (or at the very least shifting) our perspective. But it’s tricky, isn’t it? Is there a way to trigger a shift in perspective? I can’t say I’ve ever been able to consciously attempt to do it with words (as in, make myself think a word suddenly looks misspelled or out of place).
And maybe that’s the thing. Maybe it isn’t supposed to happen with the words. Or maybe it just… doesn’t. Maybe it’s all about our ability to transport ourselves elsewhere through our mind’s eye.
