Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Rain and Sun And the Old Sea

We are just back from the ocean. The Old Sea. Mmmm. We had us some good times there, baby dolls.

We drove to get away from the fires and smoke here. We got so far away that I completely forgot about the fires.

We drove through one of the "worst" cloud bursts I'd ever been in. More intense even than ones I had experienced in Arizona.

It was a threshold rain. Travelling from one world to another. You know what I mean. Something is changing.

We made it to our little vacation spot a block from the ocean. Mario had arranged it all for me. It was sweet, quaint, safe. And the ocean was right there. Right there. Right here. I could feel it in every cell of my body. How do I forget these things? (Laugh or weep. We swim in your tears. —Grand Mother Yemaya Mermaid.)

We walked for miles. For hours. I felt the tension flow out of me and soak into the sand. Ahhhh. I started wondering when I had changed. When had I gotten so rigid. So fearful. So...unlike me. I have wondered this before. What good does it do to stare at the past? What can I change now? I whispered to the Old Mermaids. I watched the waves. The sky. The birds. My sweetheart. I was so grateful to be walking next to Mario, to be holding his arm. I thought of my father, often. I thought of him walking with my mother, hand in hand. I thought of him telling me a year before my mother died that he would be just fine, "as long as Mumma is with me."

When Mario walked on the beach, just as dusk began to settle, it seemed as though his footsteps were illuminated. It was only his weight pressing the water away from the sand where he stepped. Still, I understood the illumination: He is my sweetheart.

When it was night, we walked all over Seaside. We went into one building with a carousel in the middle. It was closed, but we went inside and sat on the sleigh. I leaned up against Mario and looked around at the carousel. I wanted to come back in the day time and ride the turquoise colored mer-horse. I liked the deer, the black cat with a fish in its mouth, the ostrich. I love carousels. I'm sure when no one is around the entire carousel comes alive. I've felt this about every carousel I've ever seen.

After a while, the woman cleaning the mall made us leave. I had watched her earlier in the evening. She looked so unhappy. She never looked anyone in the eye. She never smiled. I wondered what made her so unhappy. It was none of my business, obviously. I wanted to argue with her when she told us to leave—to explain that we were doing no one any harm. Just sitting. Enjoying. She said, "Liability." I decided not to stress her out any more. We left.

We went to Cannon Beach one day to see some paintings by Nancy Norman. Someone had recently introduced me to her paintings via a card called "Sea Yarn." A mermaid sits by the window knitting the Old Sea into existence. She looks like an Old Mermaid to me, complete with the requisite crows. (I want to do a post about Nancy as soon as I get myself a computer!) So we went to the gallery in Cannon Beach that has some of her work, Dragonfire Studio. I sat with "Sea Yarn" for a long while. We love having original art in our house. When I sell another novel, I hope to get one of her paintings.

That night, in a hypnagogic state, the Old Mermaid in the "Sea Yarn" began talking to me. I could hear the clicking of her knitting needles as she created the world, and she told me all sorts of things. And at some point, I was her, and I was talking up a storm, so to speak. She was me and I was her. I'm not sure what either of us said now. Does it matter? I hope it comes back to me.

So Mario and I walked and talked for three days. We didn't write a word. We didn't take any computers. We didn't go to any library or any place to check our email. We watched a little TV and listened to C-Span when we were in the car.

I fell in love with the sea all over again. Which is what happens every time we drive to the coast.

We came home late afternoon yesterday. Today I spent the afternoon with a client. Before she came, I looked at the news. I saw that methane is bubbling up from the Arctic Ocean. This could mean that it's all over except the lady singin'. When I first heard this news, I felt myself freezing up. Panicking. And then I thought, "Just do the work. Just be full of yourself. Just love, love, love." So when my client and her friend came to my house, I opened the door and welcomed them. As I looked at them, I felt like I did when I looked out at the Old Sea. I was seeing Old Friends, I was encountering Mystery, I was participating in Healing. In love.

As always and forever, I am in love. I am in love with this world. And I walk in love in this world. I swim in love. I dive in love.
Imperfect. In loving imperfection.

It's raining now. And the ringing in my ears matches the hum of the refrigerator and the hepa fan. Upstairs, Mario reads. And that is where I go now.

May You Love in Beauty!

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