Report of the Mundane

Today, I'm simply going to report on the day.

It's been a gloomy day, weather-wise, in PT. I slept later than I like to, but I enjoyed it. I dreamt of two restaurants, a retarded man with a huge magnifying glass, and that I had curly hair. Very curly hair.

Once I was up, the sky seemed physically heavy.

I don't mind caves. Kumatriel often wonders at the fact that I haven't put the blinds in my office up -- but today I went around like a school-marm, opening the windows to every slice of light I could borrow from the day.

I'm adjusting to Fall, but fitfully. This Autumn seems to me to have descended quickly -- oh yes, there were hints and haunts during September, but October in Port Townsend, today, seems to auger the Winter months to come -- except that the winds have not yet arrived.

For those of you reading this, unfamiliar with Port Townsend winds, I quote one of my own songs, Wind-Hardened:

"Last night, the wind came screaming off the Sound.
The trees all went berserk, and the trash-cans roamed around.
The leaves gathered to gossip in piles to the East,
And Autumn’s final apples crashed down, so the deer would have a feast."

I'm glad the winds have not started yet. They stir me up and disturb my sleep, and I'm enjoying this sleepy Autumn transition. My dreams have been strange and vivid.

One night, I was George Washington, twirling my half-cape over my shoulders and saying to some impertinent woman: "And that is all I have to say. Good day, madam!" One night I was rescuing children from a tidal swell created by a bronzed creature that looked like a griffon, but not quite like a griffon -- Kumatriel assured me, in the dream "That's because it's a male griffon." -- Ah -- so that's what they look like, those male griffons.

And for the last two nights, I have had curly hair.

I used to be disturbed by strange dreams. Now, I look forward to them. I think this occured when I stopped comparing them to "waking reality", and began to consider them as real as this moment when I am typing this surreal electronic series of communications -- translating them to numbers, for your machine to translate back to letters, for your mind to interpret as some form of meaning.

These days, I generally refer to "dreaming" as "what I did in the other realms last night". It's helpful, especially in terms of learning to dream lucidly -- somehow, when I stopped discounting or segregating my dreams from my waking reality, I became more frequently aware of being in a "dream state/operating in another realm". I've had this experience many times over the years, but didn't make good use of it until Kumatriel told me what she always does when she realizes that she's dreaming -- "Oh," she reported, "I'm dreaming. I can FLY!" And then she does. I've been employing this technique frequently when I've become aware that I'm in that other realm, and I highly recommend it. (Movie recommendation: Waking Life.)

Oh, and today, I had a miracle -- no -- two miracles -- no, wait -- three miracles. First miracle: I was carded while buying a bottle of Pearl Sake and a six-pack of Pumpkin Ale at Aldrich's Grocery. I'll explain the second and third as I go along.

I think the carding was a tag-along experience (I'll explain more), but it was miraculous, nevertheless.

I walked into the grocery at around noon. I had spent the morning in our weekly Kindle meeting (I imagine I'll go into "Kindle" more in another post), determining how/when we would meet for meals this week, discussing next steps for our imminent purchase of land to live on, etc.. I had an hour until I started session-work, and decided I'd run my errands first, so that, at the end of the day, I would have a lovely bottle of Pumpkin Ale to pop open.

I was greeted by the mother (about my age, a little younger) of a teenager who had attended a special class we had run a couple of months ago -- a special "Psychic Hygiene" class -- attended by a self-selected group -- eight adolescent males between the ages of 14 and 17 who came, with their parents consent, to learn about things like power/responsibility, the metaphysical effects of "teen-experiment" things like sex and drugs, and general information about how energy is exchanged between humans in relationship.

Thinking about what she told me today, I must confess that I was surprised. When the "guys" (who piled their 8 pairs of size 10+ shoes inside our door before class) attended the class, they did what I expected them to do (having raised teens myself) -- they sat, arms folded, and said little. I wasn't sure what, if anything, had gotten through, but I did my bit.

So today, walking into the grocery on a gloomy-day booze run, this mother gave me a huge hug and told me how thankful she was that we had run that class. She described how her son had come home, excited, saying "Mom, did you know that . . . ", how he was applying the concepts he had learned to his current political science class, etc.. I was stunned, and, of course, pleased. You just never know how you might affect people. (Miracle #2 as cited above.)

I wandered on into Aldrich's, picked out the bottle of Pearl Sake requested by my seldom-drinking beloved (who had said "Hmmm. Yes, today I might like to experience alcohol. I'd like to taste that Pearl Sake."), and a six-pack of Squashy-Brew (no, it doesn't taste like Pumpkin pie, but it is extraordinarily Autumnal, in my opinion), for myself.

I headed back to the check-out, only to be greeted by another of my friend's teenage sons -- Leo, 16.

Some back-story. When I first met Leo, he was a chunky fifth-grader -- wicked smart and be-glassed.

Leo is now very tall, very lean, very handsome, no glasses, and 16 going on 17. The last thing I would expect from him was what I got. "Carol! Hi!" and a big old bear hug in the middle of the store, in front of his very hip high-school friends.

I got in line behind him, and asked him about the drink he was buying -- some sort of a juice thing, but in a very flashy orange shape of a lion (have to google that). He and his friends were on lunch-hour from High School. I asked what he had been up to, and he said "school" in a tone that I immediately felt myself commiserate with -- "Yeah," I responded, "School."

And then he surprised me, saying "What have you been up to?" This is a question that I don't get asked much, even by my adult friends -- I don't know -- maybe they assume they know already -- maybe it's the dynamic of so often falling into the "counselor" role, that I have things sewn up and handled, so why ask?

I was momentarily taken aback (Miracle #3 is both his hug and his question) as I scrambled for an answer that I thought would "fit" in his world. I found myself answering, at first, in words as all-encompassing, and as flat, as his: "I've been working a lot."

"Yeah," he responded, "Work."

Then I added: "And we're looking for land to buy, for our community. That's really cool."

"Cool!" he said, meaning it, I think.

Then he and his buddies were off to their world.

I stepped up to the counter. The forty-something clerk, pulling my sake and beer onto the scanner, said: "Can I see your ID?"

Third miraculous stun of the day. I said "I'm almost 50."

She looked me straight in the face. "You are not," she said.

I beamed, and pulled out my drivers license. I told her she had just made this a very happy day for me.

Now, admittedly, I'm short. She's just seen me commiserating with a bunch of teens who probably frequent her counter often this time of day. (I usually shop at Aldrich's 3 pm or later.) It could be a matter of association on her part. Or maybe I picked up some teenage glow from Leo's open welcome of me. I don't really care. I enjoyed it immensely.

Not because I have a fear or worry about being or looking older. But because I love that transcendent quality that takes us away from any categorization of age, gender, sexual orientation, color, etc..

It's night now. I'm enjoying that Pumpkin Ale. I'm thinking about how I underestimated Leo, thinking he wouldn't be interested in what I was up to, just because I was an "adult" (if he only knew!). I'm thinking about how stunted it seemed when he said "school", as if that summed up his life, when I knew there must be much, much, more, and how stunted it must have seemed to him when I responded with "work", as if that summed up my life.

I think I'm going to be concocting some real answers to these questions "So, what have you been up to?", "What's New?", "How have you been?".

I think they are important questions, no matter how casually we ask them, and they deserve thorough and authentic responses. I'm becoming aware that I am not always conscious of the answers for myself.

So, what is new with me today? What have I been up to? How have I been?

Ask me sometime, and let me know how I'm doing with this project of genuine response.