Tea With Me: 4th December, 2020 Friday
So Dreamkite drifted low in the earlies of last night’s moon soaked snowscape glowing through my dirty windows. Dreamkite had it that my elder dachshund was in distress as I navigated the mess of an upperstory home which housed the entire history of my family. I called for “Mommy!!!”. And did not recieve an answer. Again I called for “Mommy!!!”. As I trod swiftly among the detritus of this family’s accumulated life, I kept calling for my mother with a word I had not used for 35 years, “Mommy!!!” more and more emphatically with every step headed for the door which barriered the stairs to the bottom floor where I knew she was. I got the door to open and glided down a staircase not more substantial than a splintered ladder, calling, “Mommy, I need you!!!”. Still no answer. The kitchen door opened and there she was, her younger self, the mother of my childhood, saying she was excited about what she was doing which I couldn’t understand and said, “Mommy, I need you NOW, Baci is sick and I need your help!!!” She responded with a surprised and reluctant, “Oh.”
And then I had to pee.
She was so real in that dream that it was not until I had made it to the pot I had the thought she wasn’t here anymore.
Four years ago in eight days at 89, she passed her last breath in her house on my sister’s ranch in CA.
The land around my home is inside it. The walls are thick but the windows are all around and moonlight on the snow last night lit a glow inside my room as I didn’t trip over dogs and crates to find my sheets and think of her.
I am so glad she wasn’t here for these last four years. I miss her, sure, but oh my god, her rage at what the world fell off to after she departed, its like she knew it was time to leave the Party cuz the fun was truly gone.
She loved a party.
Woodward and Bernstein chat about how bad it is and how much more fucked we could be in 50 days.
As the curtain closed on what we knew last January, I came to Santa Fe to find a home for us. I felt a pressure to get this done. I meditate in spurts and that month I held the habit twice a day and found in that still place inside the clang of Virus. I kept thinking I attached, as I can do, to some item which when blown upon becomes the monster underneath my bed and that item was this Virus thing coming out of China. And how I couldn’t pull the covers overhead but keep pushing through the move.
The ether dropped some crumbs which opened up the trail and shutdown March brought April’s Escrow which opened up the path to scramble over here.
And that Clang of Virus in my Quiet was indeed a sounding.
We are here in snow. Day’s Sun is warming and the transit of white to water tells a tale all its own of dressing house details with fleeting forms of ice and dripping snow.
The Light here has something more. Deep Light, its layered, yes it is. And in its films are loves I thought long gone.
Letting go of pain surrounded by so much? How can that be. Seems I cannot help its loss.
Biden Harris talked last night to all of us about the mines they are to try disarming. They both looked a little older than three weeks ago.
This is an MC Escher Age.
God Bless Us Every One.
Tea was Green.
Ta.
Tea With Me 