Keeper of Golden Rings

At dawn, January's janitor sweeps the glittering holy places. Sunlight appears for a few hours and though there is no detectable breeze, glitter glides from upper branches unto its pillowy rest.

Withdrawal is a voice speaking for consolidation's sake. This sing-song chime has something to do with joining One Mind. I no longer have any choice but to put distance both emotionally and mentally between myself and that from which I should flee. It is not difficult to re-channel impulses when the sun finally cracks the leaden cap over long, dark days. Yet in grayness, it is tempting to bend or strain towards any potential pathway or likeness to luminescence. Prisms – falling snow in subzero temperatures – glitter gilding the fantasy of “what-if.”

True unification means only one action: remembering. In one instant, wedlock falls away and the betrothed simply becomes the keeper of golden rings.

Coffee doesn't fix how tired I am, nor does green smoothies or going to the gym. I want to sit on the couch, reading and watching wood smoke rise from the neighbor's chimney. I haven't seen a cardinal in weeks and it breaks my heart a little because it might have something to do with the missing trees.

In another dream this morning, I discovered orcas in Gun Lake, and I accordingly became terrified to go in the water. Somehow the boat didn't make it all the way to the dock and I had to swim in to get home. A farewell party was happening at the house and when I finally walked in soaking wet, I had to compose myself to say an intentional goodbye to a man who was going to end his own life the next day.

Cannabis gifts me dreams and also makes me cry. It causes me to wonder how I have been holding back my true feelings and by extension, my true self. Embrace vs. projection, indeed! Lessons abound.