altars

Sitting outside on the deck at my mom’s place is like my own private sanctuary. For the most part, it’s quiet, save for the passing cars on Sir Francis Drake Boulevard. Otherwise, it’s all about the trees, the creek and the birds that live in the trees. At any given moment in the day, I come out here and enjoy some solace. It’s a retreat from the multitudinous rhythms of life in general, the meaningless chatter of the television or radio and especially my cluttered and dark bedroom where I check my emails. I can relax in the sunshine, smell the clean air and, if I’m lucky, observe some wildlife (or even a neighbor’s cat) cruising my backyard. I can even come out here in the middle of the night, when I really can’t see the trees or watch the water in the creek go by. But I can look straight up and see the universe of stars and planets shining crystal clear in the pitch black sky.

Once I met a man in front of Albertson’s who was trying to get people to sign various petitions. I stopped to chat with him for a few minutes. I don’t know how he knew that I needed to hear a little bit of his dime-store philosophy, but I’ll never forget what he told me that day. He said that I needed to talk to the universe—that I should go out on my porch at night and look up into the sky and tell the universe what I want, and the universe would listen and respond. Have I started to do this? Not yet. But when I have such a natural altar as my mom’s deck under my feet, I would be doing a disservice to myself and to the universe if I didn’t take advantage of it by beginning a regular dialogue out here.

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When I awoke this morning from my dream, the first word out of my mouth was “F***!” Exclamation point! I’m really trying to shake F., but I am obviously not over him yet. However, the dream tells me that subconsciously I’m ready to move on. In my dream, I was at his house. I had apparently been staying at his place for a few days, but I was leaving for a trip somewhere, and was in the middle of packing my bags. I was in a hurry, and asked him to call me a cab. I was frantically getting my things in order. He came back and said the cab was on its way. He came close and then touched my waist and kissed me. I can’t deny that I enjoyed it but, even in my dream, I knew it wasn’t right. I told him so, and told him to stop. And he did. Then the cab arrived, I said goodbye and thank you and I left.

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The crickets are chirping.