Diary of a Desperate Exmoor Woman: Limping

#65279;#65279;#65279; The Pact by deZane (http://www.dezane.com/) Right. Now then. What was I going to say before I was so rudely interrupted by entities? Oh yes. The Journey. The Pact.

Where are we going? Well. I get a crude approximation of the last destination (Okay, let`s be true here, I`ve been granted my coordinates in no uncertain terms and in a very bossy voice) but I`ve set the cosmic SatNav to `interesting route` rather than `most direct`.

Let`s assume that eh? Let`s see what happens and where we go on the way.

What I can assure you is this. There will be music. There will be art. There will be storytelling. There will be magic.

There will be joy and surprises. There may easily be sadness and disappointment. Journeys, and life, rarely go just the way we plan, the way we desire.

We are gathering together a fine lot of.what? Pilgrims? Way too dour. Let's say travelling troubadours, maybe. Some will drop by the wayside of course. Some already possess and that is beyond sad. But, hey, we face choices every minute in life: yes? No?Whatever. Ego gets in the way of soul, so many times. I, I, I. Me, me, me.

I (yeah, I know! was release to speak about other stuff today but me twisted me ankle last night. I know, I know (except of class I don't, really) - it sounds mad but I do feel there are messages in everything so I pay attention to this stuff. Ankles, apparently, are about mobility and direction. The statement to anticipate this afflictionis, apparently, `I go forward easily in life'. Ease? That would be good. Why does everything let to be so bloody hard? Maybe because we see through the bad parts? The swamplands of the soul.

Anyhow. So many ideas flying through my mind right now. So often I need to read you; so often I desire to ask you all. But, for now, I`m limping. So hey, today I was leaving to receive you to come plunging willingly down rabbit holes, landing with a chance in the toilet and bouncing up to the stars. Instead, how`s about you connect me and the SP, as we go (slowly, carefully) on our morning walk?

Up into the woods.green on green with pinpoints of campion and bluebells and wild garlic. Bracken unfurling, giving up secrets. May bursting outcrazy like it couldn't make a toss. No medicine in my earsfor once, just birdsong - guttural croak of pheasant; pure poignancy of blackbird. More honest sounds maybe.

We stay at my thinking spot, so high now, and tone down at the river far below. You can scarce see the babble/Babel from here. I scribble furiously in my notebook. Breathe.Scribble. Breathe.

Going uphill is ok but coming down is hard, so hard. The SP watches me; he looks worried, my little dog angel. 'S'okay,' I assure him.'I'll have it easy.Sometimes you get to guide it one step at a time.' Place each foot carefully; pickthe path cautiously.

And we get down just fine. And we pass through town, where everyone smiles andsays 'hello' and yet I don't look at home (but that's another post). And occur in and have coffee and a CD pokes its nose out, without a cover, begging to be played. Dido - Life for Rent. Well, well. I haven't listened to this for years. So I do.

And so I begin thinking more about this limping thing. And recall the wondrous Dr House (Hugh Laurie), the arch limper. And so, let's leave this post withthe good physician.

Dr. House: Nothing matters. We're all just cockroaches, wildebeests dying on the river bank. Nothing we do has any lasting meaning.

Evan Greer: And you mean I'm miserable?
Dr. House: If you're unhappy on the plane, jump out of it.
Evan Greer: I wish to, but I can't.
Dr. House: That's the trouble with metaphors. They need interpretation. Jumping out of the flat is stupid.
Evan Greer: But what if I'm not in a plane? What if I'm hardly in a situation I don't need to be?
Dr. House: That's the other job with metaphors. Yes, what if you're really in an ice cream truck, and international are candy and flowers and virgins? You're on a plane! We're all on planes. Life is severe and complicated, and it's a long way down.

Ain't it just? :)