Thank you for this day,
My strand on the Web,
the Vibration it makes.
Keep me in tune,
with Your Purpose.
Let me serve.
The Temple of the Goddess, Los Angeles
I woke up this morning feeling very sorry for myself, as I often do, the "victim act" being my primary character flaw, a "weaving" of my mind that has depleted so much of my creative life force........then I remembered, again, that Spider Woman and the great Divine quite literally "dropped in" for a little wake up call not so very long ago in the form of a wonderful syncronicity. Flooded with that miraculous memory, I kicked myself in my metaphorical butt, dedicated some of my morning coffee as an offering to the rising sun and the great privilege of being alive another day, and here I sit to tell the tale.
It's a long, barren stretch from Hatch to Deming. Vast treeless desert, blue shapes of jagged treeless mountains in the distance, fifty miles without even a gas station. Driving west, the setting sun is blinding, so I wear a baseball cap pulled down low over my sunglasses when the glare is especially brutal, just before the sun tips below the horizon. With that glare before me my mind wandered to an astrological consultation I had, on a whim, recently.
The astrologer did something called astrocartography, and I was surprised with his accuracy. He pointed out that Indonesia was a well aspected place (Bali has indeed been a huge inspiration for me). And the places he mentioned on the east coast - are the very places I've been drawn to in heart, over and over again. It seems that Tucson and Phoenix are just about the most unauspicious places I could find to live. In the corner of the chart, he pencilled "born teacher". I was thinking idly of that, how aimless I feel about my goals these days, how out of touch with what I used to call "guidance". Specifically, I was thinking wistfully "they want me to teach", and wondering if I had anything worth teaching anyone. Suddenly a tiny spider dropped down on its web, right before my eyes in the glare of the setting sun, from the hood of the baseball cap. It startled me so that I swerved the car........then it dropped down onto my lap and disappeared!
Syncronicities are like waking dreams, an engagement with the greater conversant intelligence we are a part of. I ponder them as I would ponder a dream. Because I dream so little, they are far more significant to me. I don't think this is difficult to interpret - I was thinking of teaching, and a spider dropped down literally before my eyes, weaving it's strand. When you're as stubbornly dense as I am, I suspect Spider Woman, who has a great sense of humor, needs to manifest in not so subtle ways! I'd call that a "Webbed Vision" in dynamic progress!
(Well, I'll return to this a little later. The rock and roll noise level in this cafe is winning, and I am going to have to flee until I can find a place one can think in. I like Wi Fi, but forgot that there is nowhere left as far as I know in Tucson where one can drink coffee without being blasted with loud adolescent sex music. Did I say that?.......)
Well, I was just packing up the computer, and would you believe, they switched the music to Christmas music by Frank Sinatra? So with pleasure and relief, I sit a bit longer and sip my delectable coffee. I note one more syncronicity.
My motorhome is in a strange but very appreciated rv court in T or C - it is full of people over 50 who are basically amiable hermits, living frugal lives in their rv's or trailors. Most of them are sensitive souls, educated and full of stories about interesting lives. Joanne, next to me, was a professor somewhere in Maine, and her trailor is so full of books she can hardly move. When it's cold, she's like a hermit crab that never comes out of her shell. Down the way is Jeff, who organized the local poetry group, and has committed to writing a poem of the day.
There's a new trailor on the other side of me, occupied by an elderly but spry man named Carl. We've been introduced, but that's about it. Yesterday, as I was packing my car, he spontaneously started telling me about his near death experiences, and the several times he has had what is called an "out of body experience". He said that when that happens, we instantly know that we are far more than physical, and all the fear of death disappears. I thanked him, took off on my long trip to Tucson, and Glenn. It was a surprising comfort from a stranger.
“What might we see, how might we act, if we saw with a webbed vision? The world seen through a web of relationships…as delicate as spider’s silk, yet strong enough to hang a bridge on.”
Catherine Keller, Theologian
From a Broken Web
I want to thank those who left entries on this blog, again, for your wisdom.