Sunday, October 29, 2017

Another Sunday Brought To You By The Holy Ghost Whose Name Is Melancholia

Some days I just feel loathe to share anything about my day. These are the days where I have felt too weird and strange to even try to describe and what's the point anyway?

Today is one of those days. It's definitely chilly and getting chillier and maybe it's just the weather, that foreboding of another winter which will lead to another spring, another year, another segment of time that will be in my past and oh, how time goes by so quickly now and I can hardly stand it. And maybe on November 1 the walls between the living and the dead do get thin and wavery and I feel this approaching and all of my beloveds who live on the other side of those walls weigh on me with a heaviness that feels too much like foreboding itself.

Should I make an altar with marigolds and chocolate and tequila and cut paper banners, candles and avocados, images of the Virgin and sugar skulls to appease the dead and the gods? 

I don't have the energy.

The cold creeps into my bones, I feel my joints stiffen and see my skin and muscles loosen. I feel my mind having to reach for things which used to live right on the tip of it, I go to get my pastry blender out of the drawer and can't find it, glance to the bowl with my flour and shortening in it to see that the tool is already in it and I had begun to cut the shortening in already before I stepped away to do something else.
Still, somehow I manage to make very decent biscuits.

I guess I can hold on to that fact if nothing else.

Mr. Moon found the possum that's been tormenting my hens and who probably killed little Rose, dead in the yard this morning by the mulberry tree. He said he had no idea what killed the creature. It had some blood on its fur but whatever killed it, did not take it home and eat it.
A chicken's revenge?
I rather doubt that.

After all of my years on earth I am still beset with mysteries most every day of my life and that is one thing about the prospect of dying that I truly rue- no more chances to solve the mysteries.
Because you know what? I don't really think that the dead know all the answers any more than we do and in fact, I do not think they know anything at all although wouldn't it be wonderful to have one tiny moment of complete enlightenment as our souls take leave, even if that moment was about as long as it takes a spark from a firework to sizzle out on a lake?
Would be rather ironic, though, wouldn't it?

Well.

That is enough of THAT! And so forth and so on. May I be more cheerful tomorrow.

Love...Ms. Moon








17 comments:

  1. Maybe Maurice Avenged Rose...

    I don't know about sparks of ultimate awareness, but have you watched that Ted Talk by the neurologist who had a stroke? That was certainly interesting.

    I think that weird strange eurg feeling is why I don't blog any more. I'm so glad you still do, though.

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    1. I haven't seen that video. I probably should.

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  2. I had an off-kilter day here on the gulf coast, too. Lots of wind, and I had sweats on all day. I've felt a little 'foggy' all day. This afternoon I asked my hubby if I needed a cucumber to install the toilet seat I'd just bought. He asked me three different times what I needed, and three times I said cucumber. He handed me a screwdriver, I thanked him, and proceeded to put it on. Yeah, this sounds a little more than fogginess to me, too.

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    1. I hate getting old. Every day a new and worrisome thing.

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  3. It was rainy all day here, something so familiar here abouts and yet this year it's been such a warm and sunny autumn that the rain is strange. Scrubbed the bathtub and walls while showering tonight, there- a chore done to appease the chore-hounds...

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    1. The chore-hounds have given up on me, I'm afraid.

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    1. And it is tomorrow and I think I'll give the chickens the leftover biscuits.

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  5. I'm glad that you do bother to write about your day. We all listen and feel less alone. And then there is the dialogue and the sharing and listening in the comments. All of it connects us.

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  6. it's been cold here and I do not like the cold. I don't like to move when I am cold. and time is speeding up. and I think when out souls leave we do have a moment of complete clarity and then we are reabsorbed into the source of it all until we are ready to make the plunge again.

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    1. I tell you what, Ellen- I think so too.

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  7. It is a strange time of year, and definitely one that encourages these sorts of ruminations. You DO have several altars in your house already, don't you? So the energy is there, even if you're not feeling it at the moment. :)

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    1. Oh, and I meant to say that is very strange about the possum. What could have been in your yard that would have killed a possum?? A dog, maybe? I do like the idea of the chickens taking their revenge, but I agree -- unlikely.

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  8. Feeling anxious today, too. So much worry swirling. I want to say something helpful but all that comes is that i hope things are better by the time you read this. and i love you.

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  9. The Veil is thin this time of year and I think those with sensitive spirits do feel more anxieties and unexplained range of emotions. I absolutely Love this time of year but I still have to fight off similar feelings and moodiness, it is indeed a Mystery.

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  10. There's a very interesting book called Journey of Souls, by Michael Newton, Ph.D. It really shines a light on what happens to souls between lives. It made me much less afraid of the aging process and death itself. Worth a read, if you're interested! That is a mystery about the dead possum, and I am sad for poor little Rose. I can't have chickens (because I live near a family of eagles), so I enjoy reading about yours!

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Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.