August 8, 2021

Monteverdi on Pandora. 

Tea-totaling does in fact, if nothing else, improve one’s dream life. My dreams are epic, fantastic, seemingly never-ending, not always (but mostly) happy. I’ve always been impressed by the fully realized nature of dreams, not roughed-in or abstract, but complete in every detail.  In one last night I decided to inspect a desk that some item sat upon. It was richly carved clear to the fantastic clawed feet: something I never saw nor ever think about in any detail in daily life. The last waking, just at first cobalt light, must have been something to do with the university, for my first conscious thoughts were about my never having received a rocking chair or a bowl or even a certificate at my retirement–as I suppose others to have done. It was during the pit of the Pandemic –yes– but someone might have taken the trouble. Also have received no solicitation for contributions from the institution-- one oversight meant, perhaps, to cancel the other. 

During the Ordination yesterday a voice came into my head. It said, “Do you realize you almost never think of anything but yourself?” This came at the exact second when the bishop was admonishing us to “hold Will in our thoughts and prayers” and I wasn’t doing so, but rather–yes– thinking about myself. Calm came instantly to my heart, so somewhere inside I must have been agitated about being so self-involved. Will seek to be mindful of this. 

The bear invasion has odd effects. I start at every unfamiliar sound, running to check if an animal is breaking in somewhere. I listen to the silence around the house when I lie down to sleep, wondering what will break the silence. I think with dread of the years when I left the sliding door open all summer. Some grace led Ginsbear to make her attempt when I was home and could stop it.