Sunday, September 27, 2009
Yesterday, I told my friend T about Jim Dee’s and my similar gemstone posts. T was returning some boxes to make my move easier, as last week; I had helped her family move to a nicer place. As I started mentioning Jim Dee’s spiritual awakening with stones and animal totems, it reminded her of an experience her husband, R, recently had:
At the old place, where R and T recently moved out of, a single mother had come to live with them, which worked out great in some respects, but also felt a little cramped, which tends to get worse during harsh Idaho winters. Both families had gone down to look at the prospective larger house a few times. All four kids loved it, as did T and her single-mother friend. R wasn’t so sure though; after all, they had already moved earlier this year. His hesitation was understandable, as the new house costs more and he is the main breadwinner.
With the pressure on to decide soon, one evening R vociferously announced that he was “going fishing.” He walked down to the river to spend some time alone and reflect. As the evening twilight progressed, an enormous owl swooped down over the water and dropped something shiny in. R walked in the water to where the owl dropped the item and discovered an empty money clip. Examining it closer he saw that the silver was emblazoned with his own initials!
Since he had specifically come down to the water to reflect on what the best thing to do would be, R took the owl’s message as a sign, which helped him, decide that his family would be better off in the end if they made the move (which I just helped them with). Coincidently, a few months ago, at their old house I had dropped off some animal totem books, including the one by Trish. On a whim, I inserted in one of the owl chapters, as a bookmark, my own story; The midday owl who withdrew from the bank. http://www.mtexpress.com/story_printer.php?ID=2005109225
What’s interesting about this story, is that it’s the same story that forty moons ago, I sent to Trish, when I saw a sentence towards the end of her and Millie’s totem book, which asked readers to contact them, if they had any interesting animal encounter stories of their own. In other words, the same story I stuck in their book is the same story that led to Rob MacGregor's and my internet friendship and enduring exchange of ideas!
When I first saw the owl in my story, I wrote a rough draft about it, but was uncertain about submitting something so out there. During a telephone session with Enhique the shaman from Brazil, the wise man stated that the owl “was a gift.” This encouraged me to rewrite the story a few times, which the Express published in April 2006.
The way, I’m looking at it now is that it’s a gift that keeps on giving.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Scott Phillips’s, one-dimensional letter, regarding the defeat our much needed Galena Cell tower makes it sound like all 300 members of the Nordic and Backcountry Skiers Alliance have unanimously backed this misguided decision.
If this is actually true, then blood is on all 600 of your hands, every time from now on; when somebody crashes in the SNRA and experiences communication delays during life or death situations.
If this winter, one or two of your own cherished family members or friends perishes in a treacherous crash for want of a quicker emergency medical team response; I propose that you all start practicing ginormous energetic healing group hugs in advance.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Chad Mitchell Trio:Barry's Boy
We're the bright young men
Who wanna go back to nineteen-ten
We're Barry's boys
We're the kids with a cause
Yes a government like grandmama's
We're Barry's boys
We're the new kind of youth at your Alma Mater
Back to silver standards and solid Goldwater
Back to when the poor were poor and rich were rich
And you felt so damn secure just knowing which were which
We're the kids who agree
To be social without security
We're Barry's boys
'Cause his hat's in the ring
Where Westbrook Pegler once was king
Now he's too left wing
So if you don't recognize any old Red China
Or Canada, or Britain, or South Carolina
You too can join the crew
Tippecanoe and Nixon too
Back to Barry
Back to cash and carry
Back with Barry's boys
Why did the chicken cross the road?
To get from the left to the right
Roses are red, violets are blue
Walter Lippmann's a pinko, too
A-na-ka-nee, ka-nah, ka-nay
Let's investigate the PTA
Barry, Barry, make your bid
I love John Birch, but oh you kid
Mother, mother, wear a grin
And don't complain, or we'll turn you in
Hold the presses, stop the mail
The Pentagon's having a one-cent sale
What's the latest news statistic?
Hootenannies are socialistic
Shut the door and lock and latch it
Here comes Lizzie with a brand new hatchet
Back with Barry's boys
We're the kids full of nerve
As long as it's conservative, we're Barry's boys
And we can't comprehend
Why our parents aren't friendlier to Barry's boys
Why Dad once crusaded for Sacco/Vanzetti
Now all we're doing is doing the same for John Paul Getty
Our parents emulated Roosevelt and Farley
But we just want to grow up to be like Ev and Charley
No college days with Socrates and Plato
When you're Barry's boys
You just organize parades for the abolishment of NATO
And the rest
The entire West
So let's go back to the days when men were men
And start the First World War all over again
That's right you tell'em son
Isolationism can be fun
Back to Barry
Back to cash and carry
Back with Barry's
And remember, "An American first, and a politician second"
Spoken like a true American politician
Back with Barry
Not with Lyndon, Ike or Harry
Back with Barry's boys
Friday, September 18, 2009
Yusuf Islam (the musician formerly known as Cat Stevens) reminds us of the balance shift coming around again in form of the autumnal equinox: From his Wednesday blog, Yusuf observes,
“Technically, an equinox is an astronomical point and, due to the fact that the earth wobbles on its axis slightly (rather like a top that’s slowing down), the date may vary by a few days depending on the year. The autumnal equinox occurs when the sun crosses the equator on its apparent journey southward, and we experience a day and a night that are of equal duration. Up until Harvest Home, the hours of daylight have been greater than the hours from dusk to dawn. But from now on, the reverse holds true. Astrologers know this as the date on which the sun enters the sign of Libra, the Balance (an appropriate symbol of a balanced day and night).”
But let’s not stop here. Look at what other oracles there are…
“It is the time of the year when night conquers day. And as I have recently shown in my seasonal reconstruction of the Welsh myth of Blodeuwedd, the Autumnal Equinox is the only day of the whole year when Llew (light) is vulnerable and it is possible to defeat him. Llew now stands on the balance (Libra/autumnal equinox), with one foot on the cauldron (Cancer/summer solstice) and his other foot on the goat (Capricorn/winter solstice). Thus he is betrayed by Blodeuwedd, the Virgin (Virgo) and transformed into an Eagle (Scorpio).”
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Second thoughts on doppelgangers
After reading this About.com story about doppelgangers it reminded me of some uncanny incidents of my own. One April daybreak, a dozen years ago, while delivering newspapers in Gimlet, Idaho I saw a mountain lion wisp by the Big Wood River Bridge. This got me thinking about the small children, who would soon be waiting at bus stops and how they could be easy prey, for the fat cat. So I rang the Sheriff’s department. The dispatcher replied, “Oh, we get calls about Mountain Lions all the time." So I asked, “Then what about the kids, who will soon be playing at the bus stops? This momentarily stopped the dispatcher in her tracks, but it didn’t sound as if they would to send an officer to investigate the threat.
This made my blood boil, because I sensed that the danger was real. While wrapping up the news route, I thought of an acquaintance that lived in one of Gimlet's few ramshackle houses –she was a lot like me. Her kids would soon be scrambling around, waiting for the bus. For several minutes, I strongly considered tapping her door, as a precaution, even though it was only 5 am. Although I didn’t knock on her door, I focused deep within, questioning if I had made the right decision and hoped hard that her precious kids would arrive to school unharmed.
Two days later, I crossed my friend’s path, while I was lurking around a furniture shop. She approached me, remarking in a thankful tone, “Somebody tapped on my door the other morning to warn me about a Cougar. Was it you?” The startled look on my face must have made her think that I was I was lying, when I claimed, ‘It was not I.” -Although then I started wishing that I had been the one to awaken my friend, the sleeping beauty.
I’ve reflected about this incident now and again. In the seven years that I served morning papers in the Gimlet area, I seldom I saw anybody jogging about. Unless they worked out in such a stealthy manner that I did not notice them. The question remains, twelve years later: Who or what tapped on her door that early April morn?
This extract from “Jay’s”About.com post is a prime example of a good Doppelganger mystery:
“Then after a while I was talking with my friends and I said, "Remember how you kept saying you had seen me in Ellsworth but I wasn't there, several times over the past year or so?" And my friend said, "What are you talking about?" I said, "You know, you kept saying you saw a guy who looked just like me in Ellsworth, in stores and stuff, and he always looked exactly like me down to the last detail." She said, "No, I don't remember seeing anyone who looked like you." I said, "What are you saying, don't you remember how you kept seeing me in Ellsworth and waving at me, and I always ignored you or acted like I didn't notice you at all?" And my friend said, "No, I never said that. I didn't see anyone who looked like you in Ellsworth."”
Shortly after I moved to Idaho, I experienced several cases of mistaken identity. Sometimes people would call me by somebody else’s name or say that there was another person in town who bore a striking resemblance to me. Sometimes I was mistaken for a utility worker, a ski patrolman, or another delivery person. This happened enough times that it began to feel eerie. The rational explanation, I thought, was that in Rocky Mountain ski resorts, there are probably numerous tall looking white males of European ancestry, bundled up in heavy clothing, who look much the same.
Nonetheless, the mistaken identities continued at a rate high enough, to tweak my curiosity. Never had I actually met one of the people that supposedly looked like me, although once somebody pointed “him” out at a medium distance as we drove by a lumber store. In my brief glimpse, I could see he was wearing construction overalls and yes he had a remarkably similar build to mine, but at the time, we were in too much of a hurry to investigate this double in depth.
Finally, as these circumstances continued, I vowed that whenever someone mentioned similar resemblances, I would instantly jot down all the peculiars to get to the bottom of this mystery. I would talk to whoever this person is, and compare our backgrounds and tendencies, etc. Indeed, three more times this was brought up, and though I fastidiously jotted down the known details, it was never enough information to go on. I began to wonder how my doppelganger could be so perpetually elusive.
Then one day, I was sitting in Hailey’s old hospital emergency room, to get some X-rays for a minor injury. A middle-aged woman waiting in the reception area recognized me with such warm aplomb, that I thought I should know her from around town. Not instantly recognizing her, I didn’t want to be rude, but figured that once we started conversing, I would be able to piece together from where I knew her. During the course of our long wait, she mentioned several people whose names sounded familiar and a couple of incidents around the valley that I might have known about. It was probably five minutes into our conversation that I realized that she must have been mistaking me for someone else. At this point she asked, “Remember that boat trip we all went on, down to C.J Strike Reservoir? You and Ted and Mary and me, and you said all those funny things?” Well, it sure sounded like me, but I had to deny remembering anything about this. She took a very close up inspection of me while saying, “You don’t remember that?” I simply repeated, “No, I cannot remember that.” Then, I will never forget the piercing look she gave me -as just then I was being called into the hospital examination room, which is well known for being a portal to the unknown. Her look held the thought that I was certainly the same person who traveled with her family on their boat and I must have been either drunk or insane not to remember…
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
Gyroscope of Balance
I have a friend who enjoys adventuring into the great outdoors in pursuit of collecting rocks and gems. Some of her finds, she turns into jewelry, which fits well on her, when she dons it at her waitress job. We’ve talked about how sunlight after hard rains creates optimum field conditions for finding obsidian and crystals, as they sometimes stand out like tiny stars.
One morning, after sharing a raindrop of synchronicity with her, I asked her about own meaningful coincidences. She responded; that recently, after showing off a handmade jasper necklace to some inquisitive customers; she told them on a whim, that if she ever has a son, she would love to name him “Jasper.” Within the hour a young lad of about seven, entered the diner with his family, and introduced himself as Jasper!
Soon after, she mentioned another significant twist of fate. In this case, while moving some items into her new home, she came upon an old notebook, which had leafed open to a page featuring the word “gyroscope” scribbled in her own ancient handwriting. As she pondered why she had written this singular word on the yellowed sheet, a song came over the radio, with the male singer’s voice synchronously crooning, “gyroscope.”
Next, my friend told me that she had been staying up, until 3 in morning for several days, in intense preparation to get her move finished, before school restarted. According to her schedule, it looks like when school starts, she’ll need to be, either studying or working, almost every waking moment, leaving no time for her rock hunting pursuit.
This sounded stressful and I spent some time contemplating my friend’s dilemma. An hour or two later, I re-entered the cafeteria with an interpretation of her gyroscope synchronicity. I mentioned that gyroscopes are used for keeping balance and that if two gyroscopes were mysteriously spinning for her at the same time, than maybe the universe was warning her to stay balanced and get a little more sleep, so she doesn’t crash. I explained how gyroscopes are used in Segways to keep them upright, which reminded her that she had seen a Segway after the local Wagon Days parade, only days before; unaware that it contained a hidden gyroscope. As Segways are seldom seen in our valley, it made the three-part synchronicity feel as precious as her jasper necklace and that Synchronicity rocks as much as a field of shining gem-stars.