Chapter 147
You’d think when immobilized at home, one would have all kinds of time to ruminate on the various meanings of life, resulting in startling insights and witty observations. This is not necessarily the case as simple tasks that generally take seconds or few minutes now take many. These minutes pile up on top of each other like a sedimentary amalgamation of Persian rugs and falling leaves.
On falling leaves, through the lens of a glass door the brilliant golden hues of Fall are picked out by the rich early morning sunshine. I’m watching the season slip from one dress to another, what to wear? What to wear? She spends fanciful moments before a mirror… swirling shades of green and yellow in the reflected depths of a glass-covered lake. The choice of garb takes some time this year, I’m glad of that as these moments in the dressing-room of the Seasons are the most entertaining and vivacious times. The Equinoxes, times of fluttering balance when light and night dance hand-in-hand for a brief hiatus before world, and sun and moon, spin on again in their merry swirl of lights, plunging headlong into darker days.
So it continues, we are in the midst of another season, change is in the air as always. Let’s taste the wind together. Rocky Mountain Air, so rare, so fine, we should bottle this stuff.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch… within my knee a strange warmth glows and my hands fall softly around the joint from time to time. I refocus, talking to my cells, breathing new vigour into this rebuilding. I place a singing bowl beside my leg or on my belly and breathe in the sensation of the vibrations. This bowl rings and rings and rings and rings…
Strange sensations, I’m pulled in all directions. Strains of music that drift through my head, some I’ve played, some I’ve said. I play music that I haven’t heard in years, a recording pops up of an old phone message to launch me tumbling chaotically into the midst of an old happening. Vivid streaks of prior emotions leap in the edges of my vision. This quick reminisce stirs my blood and I’m all at odds before sinking down into a well of acceptance. I’m here, now.
Later, a recording of bowls and chants and peace falls over the room. Peace stood over the room prior to that, but she lost her balance, not paying attention – as usual. Around me I’m surrounded by twisting vines, green growth, new shoots, some leaves, but most stay rampant. There’s unstoppable life persisting in persisting all around me. South windows host a variety of thickly overgrown Spider plants that have never looked so healthy, they vie with Jade and Geranium and an impossible Aloe (hello?) that is growing from a pot masquerading as an egg-cup beneath its plumply engorged spines. All is gold, green, serene. The sun continues to shine. There are some gloriously shining people in this world. Many of them are reading this right now.
Happy November to you.
With gratitude and love,
Kat Dancer
bodymudra@gmail.com
403-931-3866 (h)
+1 415 525 2630 (c)
