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The brush pile I shaped to build a bonfire for the solstice is done. I sent an e-mail to a couple of people to ask them if they wanted to join me. Many people in the Bible Belt think celebrating the solstice is some sort of religious heresy, but then again, they don't know much about the roots of their religiosity, so I don't expect them to display any overt curiosity.
In a couple hours I'll go out into the edge of the woods maybe a hundred feet (30.48 M) from my rathole of a house and light my own damn fire. I feel old and decrepit today. Emotional. Holiday blues. My blues will automagically be resolve in a very short time. There is an astronomical reason for the peace and good will that arrives with the solstice, and then celebrated on the 25th. The body gnows.
The glass flute playing is going to take some time, and lot of practice to master. My arthritis is acting up on me and my hands are like clumsy paws. It may have something to do with the cold. I know the stories, but I don't quite believe them. I do know that if I wasn't taking the methotrexate I'd be in worse condition. The best
This morning I started to warm up to begin singing the vowels and instead began singing songs from memory right away. It was amazing to me how easily I fell into a groove that let me move quickly into any part of my range. It was a lotta fun. I started singing all the songs I ever actually learned the words to. Most of them from when I was a boy.
The songs I wrote in my late twenties and early thirties are not part of the repertoire from this early source. This is not a recent development. Even though I write songs and memorize other people's songs for the sake of performance, it's the songs of my childhood I reach for when I am is at the end of it's rope.
A couple of days ago I was singing the vowels and my voice opened up pretty good. I felt a tingling just below my solar plexus that felt to me like a very desirable state to sing from. It's showed up now and then for most of my adult life.
Regrettably, this "flow" is not there for me to reach for it and be able to depend on it being there for me as I will. In my opinion, the best I can do in regard to my voice is to keep my daily practice going and let my spirit choose the model for it as it wills. I don't really know how to do that with aplomb.
In the early hours this morning after I had to make a trip to the bathroom I lay in my bed and watched the hypnogogic images return to fascinate me as soon as I let go of the waking beta state. I guess I was pretty lucid for that situation and wanted to stay conscious long enough to enjoy feeling the warmth of my bed again.
As I lay there I wondered if I could treat my dreams in the same way I operate my computer. I started with an imaginary mouse and began clicking on the dream images to see what would happen. Not much at first. Then, I somehow remembered to double-click instead of just single clicking. Double-clicking did make a difference, but the results excited me so much I woke up.
Surfing the dreamtime as if it were the internet might really work. The most immediate problem might be to remember to do it while I'm dreaming. I am is theorizing that it might be easier for me personally to open the dreamtime portals with a simple mouse click rather that shouting "ABRACADABRA!" in my sleep.
I don't think I'll actually have to vocalize to initiate anything in the dream world. For all practical purposes the internet is like the dreamtime. I believe that if I could initiate a more active consciousness or lucidity by the intent I harbor with a pretend double mouse click it might engage my focus less alarmingly.
Candidly, I've never had much luck with the lucid dreaming bit. I mean, I've been lucid a lot in the dreamtime, but it comes and goes as it will. I've never been able to decide just for the hell of it that I am is gonna do some lucid dreaming tonight in order to solve a particular problem from the inside out.
The dream of being caught in an dungeon-like huge industrial complex was around again last night. I think my reaction to finding myself there once again was what caused me to reach for the computer mouse in that nightmare. The first thing I did, and the last thing I remember of that lucid state was me ordering up a sky blue hole in the ceiling and me flying through it. How's that for getting out of a mess?
I just got a phone call. I won't be alone on the solstice. Hurrah!
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I do not attempt to tell the God's own truth here because I don't know what the truth is or hardly ever. I try to capture the drifting thoughts that randomly appear in my imagination for reasons I may not understand. I don't know if the content I capture with these words is true or false. The Comments settings are turned off to prevent me from having to defend what amounts to little more than fanciful, sometime crude speculation. Great moments in our lives never return.
