Point of view vs point of awareness
Everything goes by so fast. In these days of instantaneous immediacy there isn’t a solid footing to create any single point of view. So I have to come from a single point of awareness if I want to make sense of it all, or at least not close down the inputs. Besides, it’s all just a big distraction when my main question is “Where is Narnia and how do I get there?” I feel like I’ve been pushing the back of the wardrobe for some time now and nothing seems to budge. Do you think it was just a poetic metaphor?
Let’s go anyways
My parallel life, the one I write into existence, had been far from me the last few days. I was like the reed cut off from its place by the stream, but not yet turned into a flute. Still, I daydreamed mightily about all the tender and meaningful letters I would write to people who are important to me. But this sort of thing doesn’t mesh well with time and the requirements of daily living. I’ve left all those letters in Narnia, I suppose. They’ll likely be sent from there.
The winter shaman who leaps across the globe flying in the night sky may deliver them for me if you leave an offering of sweets. I can’t do it here on your screen - this is a different sort of sorcery.
Hitting the dark on the shortest day, then I turn upside down
I’m relieved to be turning with the earth and all the cosmic universe toward the return of the light. Yesterday I hit the dark pretty hard, feeling something in myself that winter solstice holds. Not a gleam of light to be found, I was trapped, scraping the bottom and sides of the old well. Did I fall, was I pushed, or did I jump in? That dark well couldn’t be my Narnia, could it? Somehow I returned - not rescued, just changed, back in time to light candles for the longest night.
I realized that I’d had a completely upside down point of view! I thought I was helplessly stuck in the well looking up for a glimpse of the stars shining down into it. But at the same time, I was a star like a searchlight, peering down into the well, looking for contact.
When the big hand shook the snowglobe and turned it over, I fell out of the well so easily. I flew with the dizzy snow swirls before gently landing flat on my back to watch the sparkles dancing above me.
Somewhere far outside my bubble globe, above the walls and the rooftop, there are big stars that continually emit their complex pulsating signals. All night long, we feel their radiant illumined formations, unseen and unregistered, beyond any known spectrum, telling us of the future.
Star of wonder. Star of night. Star of royal beauty bright.
Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas, Good Yule, Blessed Solstice, and all good wishes for the time of light!
Photo from Unsplash
Thanks for being here and reading my random thoughts. I’m thrilled to say this is weekly Issue # 19. If you like what you read here, please click the heart so the internet likes it, too.