untitled actually, 12.2006The wind’s picking up. Storm warning. It’d be odd if the last day of classes were called off for snow. We would all then disperse like motes, without goodbye. And as it will be not just the last day but my last day, it would be hard not to read significance into that. They will never have heard Howl. I could not be evaluated. It would not be my choice, none of it. I suspect that is often the case.
For Virgo this week: I can't believe I'm saying this, but doing lots of housework in the coming days could give you a big lift. At least for now, organizing the clutter and cleaning up a hundred little messes in your home could directly or indirectly lead to improved health, interesting developments in your sex life, and upgrades in your relationship to future work possibilities. It might even free up psychic energy that has been stuck, help you rediscover an important thing you thought you'd lost, and remind you to take better care of a crucial connection you've been taking for granted.
Welp, I already painted the bedroom, so that’s not it. (Turned out lovely btw, melty ice cream as the sun hits it. My older son says, falling asleep, “Dad is better actively because he can make cardboard machine guns, but you’re better making things soft. And you smell better.) Every day I pass an orange tapestry embroidered with little mirrors. It hides the wall gash. It bugs me every time because it is false. It would not bother me to see the gash, obviously I know it’s there, so for whom do I keep and hide it? I’ll take it down and hang a pointless picture, like of a knee or some random thing.
Buddhist proverb: Meeting is only the beginning of separation. I know that too. But I learned it when my first child left my body, and so I could not take it as a corrective suggestion not to say hello with all my heart. The proverb then is merely a statement of fact. (i.e. Tough cookies!)
Bob Dylan – All I Really Want
Furthermore [she says lecture-ly, missing already the student(s) gone], the problem with the wisdom of detachment: by the time it is time for a write off, the exhaustion of having reached that point makes the further work of ‘letting go’ seem like a monumental effort of the Will. How can you look across at what needs parting and not wonder how you could spend that effort on something not worth the keeping? The only honest solution I can think of is to leave the gash. Open. In The Antelope Wife, the mother thinks of her lover while her twins lounge on her, and she thinks of her stretch marks as cartography as they trace them with their fingers. I have no marks at all. Body in Cognito. And I gave the book away, a gift not a loan.
