I feel as if I’m waking up after a very long sleep. It’s the first of May. I can’t see that much of it, but I can see the green mist of new leaves on the trees. I can feel the amazing breath of the spring night, and hear the roar of Cottonwood Creek, feel the secret jubilation of the trees moving a little in the rainy darkness.
These are all easy to describe. But something is moving in me, and I’m wary of enclosing it in language. I want to say to my thoughts “Beware. This man’s words are amber, sticky, beautiful, and dangerous, and if you don’t take care you’ll find yourself trapped in a golden eternity, looking out at the living world as it looks in at you.”
But we have to try, or what’s a blog for?
I had two or three ghostly visitors last week. I’ve never in my life had any ‘supernatural’ experiences. This might sound odd, coming from a guy who makes a living reading Tarot cards, but I have never, and do not now, see Tarot as in any way supernatural. It’s maybe about as supernatural as ultra-sound, a way to see what our five senses can’t.
I’ve been praying hard for something to be released, to come out of me. Wild and noisy events in my house, occurring in the night, when I’m certain I was awake, are, I hope, its departure. It was running around the house not knowing what to do with itself. I was praying for its release into whatever rest or dissolution it needed. Interestingly, I was never afraid. Goose bumps like crazy, and a very powerful startlement, but no fear at all.
I’m hoping I’m right, and that something has gone. I think so.
And at the same time I feel my own fire rekindled. I have drive and energy I can’t remember having for a very long time. And, most terrifying, hope.