We used to go on long drives as a kid. I mean long.
Two adults, two children and once a giant stuffed
panda bear in a VW beetle, heading across the dusty
Hay plains in search of the glistening waters
of Surfer's Paradise.
When I wasn't barfing or feeling like barfing,
or my brother wasn't barfing, I'd look out the window.
It was the sixties - the only hand held device
was a paper sick bag.
Out on the flat plains between States, Australia is
dry and dusty and flat. It's hot, and monotonous
but hypnotizing. With the rocking rhythm of the
car, and telegraph poles punctuating the view it
seemed to my dozy mind a dance.
I saw the entire world as one sentient being,
each element knowing it's part. Now the hills would
roll and glide, perhaps a pas de deux of cars
taking turns to lead. The clouds would gather in a
chorus line at the horizon, and maybe a crow
appears to circle solo.
There seemed such grace to everything, and perfect
timing. I wondered at the majesty of creation,
and the magic of it.
Every living thing seemed conscious of their part
in the dance, each with impeccable timing.
They danced for themselves
they dance for each other and they dance
because that is what they were born to do.
that Volkswagen, this was my impression of the world.
I grew up, and discovered my life wasn't shatterproof,
but still held to a deeply rooted belief that even that,
was a dance.
Which is why I believe in signs.
Post-it notes from the universe, God on twitter, signs
are part of the dance. The only pre requisite is that
you need to be up there dancing and not goofing off
in the cheap seats.
Last week I had a tiny epiphany of the most personal kind.
I'd been chewing away at something, like you do, trying
to get to the answer.
The answer arrived while making tea, as epiphanies do.
They happen in the shower or washing dishes, when
the normal mind and body are engaged in everyday
and the dream self can go wandering for treasure.
I got the why. I had the "aha!"
That night there was storm. It split a beloved tree in half,
creating an instant atrium through the bathroom
window. Not only that, but a Mumma bat had been
killed, leaving a baby wriggling beneath her.
Unconnected events - except they related strongly to
my own tiny world and the previous puzzle that had been
gnawing at me. The split tree related to an aspect of it,
like confirmation, and rescuing the baby fruit bat so
it could have another chance also related.
There's a difference between observing the dance
and our part in it, and grasping at "signs". Rescuing
baby fruit bat was a pas de deux between me and the dance.
Either that or it was just a baby fruit bat. I choose the former.
What was your last post-it-note from the