A day to forget,
to forget to remember,
pearl of nothingness.
A day to forget,
to forget to remember,
pearl of nothingness.
Coo coo, not cuckoo,
a love fest, not flying through,
a cote for the doves
5 of SWORDS. Defeat.
Conflict, disagreements, competition, defeat, winning at all costs.
An ominous card for today, and I’m not sure how it related to my day. I’m back home now. Although the disaster zone is still clumsy … closed, the periphery has been cleared for traffic. I could tell when I arrived home that my power had been out at least once. As today was my off day, I went out for supplies. My usual grocery store was in the zone, but still standing, so I had to find my food elsewhere. On the way home, I donated some canned goods to a local food pantry for the disaster victims.
Tommy’s liaison … um, lesson was today. Although he seemed untouched by the disaster, Thaddeus had come to live with them. While his home wasn’t completely demolished, a roof joist had pierced the wall of his living room and all the windows had exploded. Two holes in the roof had been tarped over, but had let in a significant amount of water during the storm. An insurance adjuster is supposed to have a look tomorrow to decide what the best course of action was.
My bedtime wander took me to prison … out onto the patio where Thaddeus sat waiting.
“Hey, beautiful!” he greeted.
“Hey, yourself,” I replied. His soul was definitely more beautiful than the flesh. “Have you had a look from above?” I asked.
“No. I don’t fly much,” he answered. “I prefer to keep myself on the ground, in a human shape. I take it that you have learned to fly?”
“Not so much as learning. I just did it by accident. I couldn’t see the tornado, so I was suddenly up in the air over the treetops where I could see it. It was strange, as if I had been yanked out of my body so I could witness it, and see the two departed souls as they passed to the next world.”
“That’s possible, I suppose.”
“Who would have done it?”
“I don’t know,” he replied. “There are beings even more ancient than us who step in to teach us things we urgently need to know, to prepare us for our future. My guess is that it is important for you to learn to fly quickly, and to learn what happens after death.”
“I’m not sure I understood what I saw. What did you mean by in a human shape?”
“When you do certain things, like fly, you don’t hold your shape as well. You become more like a plasma blob. You might recognize yourself, but others may not. I don’t like the feeling afterwards, as if I need to re-acquaint myself with my body.”
“My soul was soaking wet, and I felt like I was swimming inside my body later. And I felt very depressed about what I witnessed.”
“The swimming I understand. The depression was probably just your normal human reaction. Have you flown since?”
“Once. The depression was still there, but I have to admit to a certain amount of exhilaration, being up in the air and not being completely terrified. I’m normally scared of heights.”
“And when you returned to your body?”
“A little like being blended in a blender, but in a good way.”
“How could it be a good way?” he laughed.
“It was like my soul was so happy to find each individual familiar cell of my body. It was almost a post-coital feeling.”
“I didn’t need to hear that. Be careful not to fly too far away, for too long, or too often. I’m sure your demon is taking the opportunity to find your body’s weakness while you are out.”
“Does she have that much control? Why can’t I see her like I can see you?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t know if she can see you in this state, but she can sense when your soul is outside your body.”
“I don’t know,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m going for a swim, now, but you should get back.”
“I’m normally terrified of water, but my soul isn’t. Just like your fear of flying, I want to take advantage of it when I can.”
Although he ran off to the pool, I stayed in the playpen … err, on the patio. As I’ve said before, I don’t have much control over when I return to my body. I sat and waited for about a half hour, then I saw Tommy look out his bedroom window. Almost the next instant, I was back in my body, in bed tapping at the computer.
Yes, my body was tapping at the computer, recording my conversation with Thaddeus, as if it was important that I remembered it verbatim. Nothing was Earth-shattering, except that I didn’t stagger … stutter at all. Is that what I was supposed to remember? I’ve had to insert the context retroactively.
Why did Tommy look out the window?
Soothe my fragile heart
sing a sweet song to my soul
love’s passion ignite
I don’t believe in such things.
My moth-eaten soul.
In my beginning
tiny seeds of my demise
fester a lifetime
MAGUS. The true self and the true will. Skill, wisdom, adroitness, elasticity, craft, cunning, deceit, theft. Sometimes occult wisdom or power, sometimes a quick impulse, a brain-wave. It may imply messages, business transactions, the interference of learning or intelligence with the matter in hand.
The first card I drew today was Interference, which is the same as I drew yesterday. It is fitting that there is some interference in my second draw, the interference of learning or intelligence.
No, I didn’t sleep at all last night. I wandered outside of my body inside the house, afraid to go outside, until the phone rang around 8 am. They changed the repertoire for tonight’s concert, considering the disaster. We would begin with the Adagio for Strings in mourning for the two dead and the many left homeless. It meant I wasn’t needed for the morning.
Even Beatrice feared the tornado. She was hiding somewhere – nearby, but not interfering with my depression.
My long term realtors, um, disciples, …err, readers will know that I grew up in the UK and have never witnessed the full fury of a tornado. I was caught up in a micro-burst several years ago, but the damage was tiny in comparison, just a few trees down. I was a hankey … hunkered down in London during the Blitz … (yikes, I’m not that old!) … “Great Storm of 1987”, but that damage was more diffuse. (Technically, it was an extra-tropical cyclone according to Wikipedia, equal in strength to a CAT 1 hurricane.)
A tornado in middle-America takes no prisoners, flattening whatever it traverses. I have a friend whose family had a very near miss. He said looking out the front door was like a moonscape, with nothing left standing as far as he could see. As close as they were, his parents had to leave their house for 6 months while it was repaired.
The phone rang on and off all morning, mostly family checking in from England to make sure I was OK, as well as a few acquaintances who knew I lived close to the disaster zone.
When I left for rehearsal today, I discovered what happens in the aftermath. The periphery is closed while the gas supplier isolates the area, survivors are evacuated, many on foot, since the roads are mostly blocked by trees and debris. There are shards of glass and nails absolutely everywhere, mostly in the zone, but tracked out by fleeing vehicles, and you can smell the gas and sewage. They won’t start moving debris until later, after trapped survivors have been rescued. Residents won’t be let back in until it is safe, and only for a few hours at a time to survey their damage and collect valuable property, if it is still there.
There was a long traffic jam around the affected area, which gave me a short time to do an aerial survey. I was afraid to set down as I didn’t know whether my spirit feet would be cut by the glass. I had felt the hail, so I wanted to be careful. As far as flying was concerned, I discovered that the was the desire to be up in the air was enough to get me up there (while my body daydreamed in my stationary car). There were still some people wandering around in the zone, as well as a number of rescue vehicles freeing people from their basements. Many of the houses were completely off their foundations. The police were mostly guarding the perimeter from looters, and for safety.
After that, I really don’t remember much of my rehearsal, nor my concert. I decided to stay in the city overnight. Hence, I’m tapping away at my laptop in a giant king-sized bed overlooking St. Louis from an 8th floor suite. I hadn’t thought to bring an overnight bag, so my underwear is drying in the bathtub. Hopefully, there aren’t any drones peeking in my windows.
By the way, have I ever told you I’m mildly asymmetric, asymptomatic, … um, acrophobic? You won’t catch me close to those floor-to-ceiling windows, even fully dressed, however, my spirit-self seems remarkably immune.