The Orionids are numerous this year.
Riding to work before the dawn, I catch a bright remnant of Halley’s Comet as it streaks across the sky. Once more, the Fall is what we see.
The almost unearthly music of Falling You has subtly reformatted my brain; at work, with my iPod screwed relentlessly into my ears, I listen, and feel the gentle shift and roll of my General User Interface with the Cosmos – picking up cues I might have missed a year earlier. Soon, lost in the music and the elegant logic of the program I’m writing, I come close to being in a full-on Shamanic Trance. In Freefall.
Time releases me, and I step onto the balcony. A cloud has taken the form of a Jackrabbit in the sky. The part of Me which is beyond temporal constraints – that part which is a part of You, too – throws back its head and roars with laughter. The Jackrabbit in the air melts.
Sitting before my altar, I call the deities and energy starts to circulate between us. My head sinks forward, as the tunnel opens between second and sixth chakras. I am a post-menopausal woman: there’s lots of room for such a passage. It blossoms in Deep Green as it winds – now widdershins, now deosil – drawing in a deeper connection to the level of the plants.
Ancestress of all animals, hear me! Network my soul to your roots, shoots and glorious buds! Speak – I await only your voice.
And the Great Inspiration begins to peak – showering our hearts with growth.
Riding to work before the dawn, I catch a bright remnant of Halley’s Comet as it streaks across the sky. Once more, the Fall is what we see.
The almost unearthly music of Falling You has subtly reformatted my brain; at work, with my iPod screwed relentlessly into my ears, I listen, and feel the gentle shift and roll of my General User Interface with the Cosmos – picking up cues I might have missed a year earlier. Soon, lost in the music and the elegant logic of the program I’m writing, I come close to being in a full-on Shamanic Trance. In Freefall.
Time releases me, and I step onto the balcony. A cloud has taken the form of a Jackrabbit in the sky. The part of Me which is beyond temporal constraints – that part which is a part of You, too – throws back its head and roars with laughter. The Jackrabbit in the air melts.
Sitting before my altar, I call the deities and energy starts to circulate between us. My head sinks forward, as the tunnel opens between second and sixth chakras. I am a post-menopausal woman: there’s lots of room for such a passage. It blossoms in Deep Green as it winds – now widdershins, now deosil – drawing in a deeper connection to the level of the plants.
Ancestress of all animals, hear me! Network my soul to your roots, shoots and glorious buds! Speak – I await only your voice.
And the Great Inspiration begins to peak – showering our hearts with growth.
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