September 29

This morning I wrote this letter to a friend. Then I thought, hey this applies to me. So I'm posting it as is:

Good Morning,

So, last night I was lying in bed watching the moon fly. It tore across the sky, blinding in its whiteness, then dove headlong into a patch of clouds, dipping and dodging, tattered fragments of atmosphere clinging to it momentarily like cobwebs, before it emerged again and raced clean and clear against the stars. And even when it battled the clouds, even when the clouds gathered round it and clung to it, obscuring it completely, its light gilded their edges, and used their own efforts against them to cast a new and bright light.

I know the moon doesn’t really race. I know the clouds were the ones moving in the wind. But that isn’t what it looked like. So it doesn’t matter. I saw what I saw, and it was beautiful.

This morning, well it is this morning, I’ve just finished casting a simple spread from my Rumi deck as the means of getting something going in the foggy recesses of my brain towards a morning meditation, and as always it was more revealing than I wanted. Rumi is like that. Uncomfortable and terrible and terrifying and magnificently gorgeous all in one. Well sometimes, depends on where you are sitting and what you’d like to hear I guess.
Going further, I am pondering this quote today: It comes ripping across seven centuries from the mind of Mahmud Shabistari. “The past has flown away. The coming month and year do not exist. Ours only is the present’s tiny point.”

I’m grateful for today, September 29…this is the day pesky Mercury begins to move in the other direction, and this awkward month of mis-steps and communications gone round the corner comes to an end. What a cause for celebration. I would dance in the rain if the rain came again today.

So its 6:20am and I’m up and about. My house is chilly what with the windows open, but the coffee is hot. In about an hour I’ll walk down to the school and clean the floors with my student crew. Then I’ll talk about personal inventories for half an hour. Then I’ll be done for a bit, and then this afternoon I’ll return to the task of harvesting food, and this evening I’ll teach a class on language. It looks so schizophrenic spelled out that way, but I love the patchwork of it because it all ties together.

So, my friend, today for you…I wish you the moon’s passage. Tear across the world, shining a bright bright light no matter what clings to you. I’m looking forward to seeing you soon.

Keep smiling,

Dan