Tuesday, August 4, 2015


Last night as I was falling asleep I started wondering about parallel universes and if there are indeed these mysterious folds upon folds in time and space. If there are, is it possible that when we go back to certain places from our past that, unseen to us, the events of the past are happening over and over again, perhaps like ripples on a pond (or a pool or a river) and that the vibrational resonance is stronger in these places of occurance?

Now you know me. I'm about as pragmatic and non woo-woo as they come. 
And yet. There is something here. 
I feel it. Is it just the deep, deep call of memory?

The funny thing is, is that I feel little of it by my own old house. Maybe the things that happened in that house were just too painful and that it was all of this outside that sustained and nourished me and which calls me back over and over. 
I remember laying on the dock and the smell of the sun warmed wood and the sound of the river as it murmured and sang under me. The sudden smack of a jumping mullet. I remember the swish and gossip of the branches of the Austalian Pines as I sat under them. The way the air felt, the sound of these particular crickets. I remember walking in the winter darkness with my mother and brother with a flashlight that never seemed to work very well to go check out books from the tiny selection in the Roseland Garden Community clubhouse. 
And always I remember the first time we came through those rusted iron gates and saw the immense empty pool, guarded on each corner by the stone lions, the jungle overtaking it all. 
I don't know. I just know that my blood sings and hums with it here. 
It pulls me back and back and back again. The river. Oh. The river. 
All of it. 

I pocketed two Surinam cherries today that I picked from a bush growing in my old best friend's yard. I am going to take home the pits. Plant them in dirt to hopefully grow alongside the mango I've grown from the seed of a fruit that grew on a tree that fed us as feral jungle children here so long ago. 

Well. Who knows about these things? Not me. I only know what I feel. 
I feel lucky. I feel blessed. I feel at peace. 
I feel as if I am living in many worlds all at once. 
It is an odd feeling. It is as mysterious as anything I know. 
It is time travel and being-here-now, all in one eternal moment and I dream of this place so often. The deep rich muck of it like the muck of the river itself holding tens of thousands of years' worth of secrets in its depths from mastodon bones to arrowheads to pirate treasure to the giant dead trunks of trees and the rotted and decayed bodies of fish and panther of manatee and dugout canoes. 
That's enough. I'm typing this out on my phone so forgive me for form if not for content. 
Which is all mine and cannot be blamed on anything but the visceral hum of my own heart blood. 


  1. I was just talking to my husband yesterday about this. I wonder if we lived as different people, sort of like reincarnation but living different lives at the same time. Maybe our spirits our souls can be in many places at once. I know I have a very deep connection to my great, great, great, great grandmother. When I have read stories about her I felt like I already knew about them. Quite honestly, I can't explain it in words. It isn't something I talk about to anyone other than my husband (and my massage therapist who started talking to me about similar stories one day) because it sounds so weird and flaky.

  2. I'm totally with you and Birdie Mary. Yes to parallel universes and the various portals through which we can travel to find them.

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  4. I'm not surprised that the place that gave you respite and peace and escape keeps calling you back even though it exists in the same place that gave you so much pain.

  5. I understand this so completely. Your words strike me as holy, filled with something beyond our conscious understanding. You come back here for the child you were, and if time does indeed fold and loop back on itself, then perhaps you whispered to that little girl lying on the sun warmed dock that it was all going to be okay, more than okay, a wonderful future awaited her, with beautiful children and grandchildren and a man whose arms you could trust in the deepest most holy way. If this is so, then is was you who saved that child, and allowed her to be with the rest of us here now, wise, loving, once again whole.

  6. I feel this way about Savannah, which is where I'm posting from. Have you ever been drawn to a place that you've never been before (that you know of)? There is something about this place, the brick streets and the houses and mansions, not all of them, but the ones built of a certain type of brick (I know that sounds strange; it's hard to explain). It all seems so familiar to me and evokes feeling of such sorrow and memories of misery, yet I can't keep myself from going to these locations in the city. I spent 4 hours at Bonaventure Cemetery yesterday. Coulda spent another 4. Time folding over on itself.

  7. Blessed! The first word that came to mind. YOU ARE BLESSED. To have such painful childhood memories, yet the pull of the ancient trees, and the river, and the sun soaked wood bringing you such peace and contentment. That, my friend, is one big fat blessing. I'm so happy you're in your peaceful place, and hope you can draw on these memories whenever you need to.

  8. when i went back to teaching, i went to work across the road basically from my childhood neighborhood. i choose to go there, and that was validating.

    i think sometimes being able to see it with our knowing now eyes is cathartic. it returns the parts that were good back to us, and reminds us that we lived to tell, and no one can silence our truths anymore.


  9. Intriguing thoughts and ideas and personal experiences here. Not to mention the poetry of your writing, as with so much of what you post, Ms Moon. It is so nice to hear you are enjoying your stay so deeply.

  10. As Vesuvius said, "Yes, Good Lord, yes."

  11. Your writing is so deeply poetical and spiritual and tugs at the heartstrings! Nourishes the soul.

  12. There's nothing like coming home, even if home isn't really home anymore. It never quite leaves our blood, our senses. I can identify with all of this.

    I hope that Suriname Cherry grows! What a fabulous idea. I'd do more of that too, if it weren't for customs regulations. :/

    Why were '60s flashlights so terrible? Ours only barely worked too.

  13. Birdie- Well, there's something here and we know it. We just don't know how to define or focus it. But it's real.

    Rebecca- Yes. You are right. This is my portal.

    Ellen Abbott- Yin and Yang. Without one, there is not the other. This is the way of it.

    Angella- When I read this, I cried. Because I think there is something so true here. Thank you. YOU are holy in my life.

    Ms. Vesuvius- Like what you wrote. Rivers are sacred, no matter what.

    Nancy- Yes. I so exactly know what you mean and I have experienced that before. Cozumel, Mexico is like that for me. I never went there until I was an adult and within just a few days, I knew I was home in some way. And over the past thirty years, I have become to believe that over and over again.

    Catrina- It's always in my heart, this place. Always.

    Mrs. A- Right before you posted this, someone tried to silence my memories. It was so odd. It happened and then I read your comment. And I thought, "No. No. You cannot shut me up."
    Thank you, woman.
    You know.
    And you are brave.

    jenny_o- Thank you, my dear sweet woman. So much.

    Elizabeth- Oh, sweetie. The weather is lovely. Wish you were here.

    Desiree- I am so grateful to be able to write here what is in my heart. It is MY joy. Thank you.

    Steve Reed- I am going to bring home so many seeds and cuttings from Roseland. The best and most living of souvenirs.


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.