It’s Late & I’ve Finished My Book

     This has indeed been a strange summer. It’s been close to roasting some days & we don’t have any a/c or even a cooler tho the fella started to fix it & then drifted off. I will find someone in August if he does not return.

The energies are changing but not changed. Everyone I talk to by email is restless in some way or another. They desire change in the same way that made Vikings leave the north for other explorations…and then be overtaken by the excitement of conquest. That will no longer work; at least not for me. I don’t want to rule or be ruled anymore.

But when the change does not happen, then people try to make it happen by rearranging their lives. I could tell them that none of these changes are the real deal. We are looking to contact God/Goddess once again. We are restless for Home but don’t think we have to die to go there. We are searching for a fulfillment in Spirit to bring comfort in a world seeming to be in a tailspin. I think I sometimes cry for a parent to approve of me & tell me, “good job, kiddo.” The Changes are taking far too long to happen.

People close to death don’t want to die as they cannot tell anymore what’s on the Other Side. We are Muggles in a magical world – seeing it at the fringe of sight without being able to participate except in the most partial manner. I know I am seeking every day with my heart – like a cellphone for the signal tower – but the beeps go unconnected & my heart remains unspoken in the emotions which count for living.

So I chase down the small things. I wish no harm. I keep my own spirits up. I serve, I serve, I serve. In this way I achieve some measure of satisfaction & gather in fulfillment. I wait for the knock at the door & watch the street and the stars equally.

A frog has taken up residence in the rain barrel outside my window. Each night he sings a song too loud for his tiny body. The barrel & the water it contains enlarges the volume. So my heart amplifies my longing. The Messiah is in my mirror & we raise hands to each other to touch only our reflections. I am not sure at all times what is real & what I have imagined. I know of no other thing to do, except that which is mine to do.

I have, in many ways, moved beyond my own life without recognizing the new one; it all seems to have remained the same. One day it will synchronize – the grace & the gross, the dream & the dross, I will move into new space & new love & know it for my own.

Love,

Carol

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