9/6/07

Sometimes I feel like I’ve been strip searched by the Universal Power. I’m looking up, arms out to my side: Now what do you want from me? This time I blame unrequited love for my anguish. “You only have an idea of me. The reality is not so romantic,” he tells me. Not to mention he already has a girlfriend, but once he told me that he is not in love with her, so – whether it was conscious or unconscious, I kept trying to slip my foot in the door crack to hold it open. Romantic? I’m not particularly romantic. I like feet and sleeping naked. I don’t care about flowers, although I appreciate them. I like expensive dinners but only to share in the pleasure of the delicacies. I want reality: taste it touch it feel it... fist to palm, diving in the cold water swim to the platform in the middle of the lake. No use. He doesn’t love me and I understand that. He’ll probably fall in love with a woman who would not kiss his arm the place the sand mite bit it, a woman who will harrass him for forgetting some anniversary. But, just when I think things are totally hopeless two things happen that make me wonder about this tyrannical God.

The first occurred while I was brushing my teeth yesterday. Suddenly, I heard what sounded like a fire breathing dragon on my roof. I look at myself in the mirror with alarm. My bathroom is essentially sound proof when the door is closed, so that I was hearing what I was hearing loud and clear was of definite concern. I quickly ruled out dragons and realized it could only be a hot air balloon. Often, while feeding my goats, I watch the mammoths lift off from Boulder and drift through the sky. My particular favorite is the rainbow balloon, because rainbows have always riveted me; their colors are so intense – a perfect magic: intangible yet larger than life. I am convinced that if I could touch the light it would tingle on my hand. At any rate, I raced from my bathroom and out the front door and, indeed, a hot air balloon was skimming my honey locust and coming down quickly on my mailbox. Fortunately, it landed 10 feet past my mailbox in the street. I dashed back inside and located my camera. Needless to say, of the many possibilities, it was the rainbow balloon. I have heard it said that where we put our focus or intention is what we will manifest, and as far fetched as it seemed, I wonder if my passion and adoration for this balloon called it to me.

If the second event occurred out of context, it would not seem particularly unusual, but the timing of it is what caused me to question if we are not truly supported by angels and ancestors offering us signs of hope that mostly we miss. This morning I slept in a bit because my ex-husband drove the kids to school. Admittedly, the thorns of unrequited love kept me up into the wee hours. But my pony and goats were waiting, so I rolled from bed and pulled on sweats and a t-shirt. Normally I walk directly out the back door to feed the animals, but for some strange reason I decided to change the cat litter box in the sun room. It’s not even my job! My daughter changes it. My eyes are half closed as I stagger into the sun room and clean it out. When I stand up and stretch and finally open my eyes, my vision is blurry; however, through the blur I see the arc of a giant rainbow. At this point, I feel like a child actor on a Hollywood set, rubbing my eyes, blinking them purposefully, sticking my head out past my neck and then staring bug eyed. If the neighbors happened to look out at that moment they would have seen a stunned woman with wild hair looking like maybe today was the day they would arrive to her away to the institution. The rainbow was gone within minutes. Maybe all I am supposed to remember is that timing is everything... that the rainbows and balloons and men will appear at the perfect time, and if the governing principle is chaos, then I will trust that eventually I will collide with a kindred spirit on the same page as I am.