Once or twice a year it feels like. And both times I'm all over it. I'm full out in it. I'm writing about it in my journal - not because I want people to read about the rain in LA. Because it feels like everything that happens at all is so powerfully related to these precipitative occurrences that all I have to do is mention the cactus pots on my balcony being flooded, succulents gasping for ultra violet dehydration, and you get what I mean. Magellan’s dream. That desert sun guaranteed discovery.
Quite occasionally there is the unoccassion of overcast skies in LA as well. Once in a blue moon, there's even a completely clear nite and as I late nite boogie down the city side walk back to my ride, I am not drunk, I am not troubled. I am high. I've been dancing and I am high.
I've been moody, too, like these unorthodox southern California skies. I've been spending time meditating on one detailed thing in a king sized bed. I've been riding my bicycle all over the damn place drinkin tea, drinking wine, drinking freshly juiced beets, apples, lemon and ginger in reused bottles. I've been singing to still my mind and deepen my breathing most of the time.
Because what's a little weather worth if you aren't documenting it? Yesterday my agent recommends I turn down an audition she got me in order to direct my career a specific, more integral way. Today my friend suggests I cancel and audition saying to trust in my skills in addition to my looks and to have faith that the money will come. Soon. I make love twice in twelve hours and look forward to an incredible hot bath later on.
This is the stuff storms are made of. This is a very special moment at a very special time cohabitating with very special humans on a tremendously unique planet.
5 Comments:
Rain, I feel, is a truly magical thing. It's the tears of the gods, water is the blood of life. The one thing all life has in common - even insect life, so far away from us biologically, still needs water. Food is often very much a personal and biologically restrained decision - there are substances we cannot consume that other species thrive on - but our commonality is that water that falls from the sky.
It is said that in many deserts the sand erupts into life when it rains, the life hibernates until that one moment for the desert storm. Then, once that life-giving water disappears, the life hides again.
Perhaps - the water from the sky represents your own awakening, that occasionally you connect with the watered desert of the real. It's not so much that the desert is something to focus upon, but the change it experiences while under that rain. Perhaps all our lives are just spent in those few moments of desert rain.
Let us hope that this shower upon all levels becomes a storm.
Thank you for calling me friend in your last post - it is not a flippant thing from you, I feel, and I do not take it as such. For those who have known my inner (and let's face it, strange) thoughts and still call me friend, are rare indeed. Most people do not understand or do not want to hear about things beyond. It is beyond their comprehension and they prefer their holes in the ground.
It is good, that two such enlightened people can recognize and appreciate each other. And when you compound that to the randomness of our meeting ... all the more sweet. :)
Cailean.
PS. Belated strong feet!
wtf m8
Strong feet abound. And yes, I take your poetic responses and eloquent encouragement quite sincerely. Same for my offering of the word 'friend'. I know you noticed.
I've seen the desert saturated with rain, not succulent enough to even absorb all that is being given. Perhaps the key is to stay succulent in times of draught so that your receptivity to the rains is peek per your possibility when per chance they do find the crown of our heads.
I think you are right - it is our ability to absorb what rain is there rather than how much rain falls. Because if we're limited in our "absorbancy" it doesn't matter how much rain falls. I think, to continue the metaphor, our retention of that water too. Some people seem to gain flashes of insight, of reality (beyond the samsara that we are all caught in by necessity) but then lose themselves back in the woven web of stasis. They have not retained the water that they briefly absorbed.
It's interesting to use this metaphor - often knowledge and understanding, even at a basic level, has been compared with the action of water.
As to strong feet - I think I need to borrow them, they have been hurting, haha. Or I need some sweet chaotic individual to massage them for me. But who knows? Chaos weaves as Chaos wills. All in good time.
Another aside - you are too sweet, dear Tonya. Thank you for being you.
Post a Comment
Links to this post:
Create a Link