Halcyon Days

I heard about this on the radio yesterday and promptly made up all sorts of powerful things which support the statement made by all three husbands and numerous other folks which goes roughly as such:

"throw a box of tissues on the floor and Alecto will make up something powerful about it."

In the myth of Alcyone, Halcyon Days are the seven days in winter when storms never occur.

I counted from 12/14 on seven fingers, fourteen, fifteen...twenty and came up one day short of the winter Solstice and didn't that just work out fine for me and my agenda? And lets not get all literal here, folks, this is not the temporal world (unless we make it so), umkay? The best way not to drown is to relax and let the waters carry you to the shore which I swear to you is there. Seven days (from yesterday) to the Solstice.

At night when I don't have so much to keep the hamster brain running like a bat out of hell I fall back into my bed (I've finally figured out falling face forward into the pillow makes it a bit hard to breathe) and stare up at stars (YES I can stare through two layers of ceiling and you even have to ask? Such silliness) and I think, relax body, let it go. You know what? It's Halcyon Days and I don't feel much like drowning these days even though the waters pull rough a lot of the time what with all this death and dismemberment and Bernie Madoff's son has gone and hanged himself and I've got nothing to say about that but ouch! Please, boy, shame never did anybody a damn bit of good because it's a barrier to remorse which is what allows us to look inward which is what we really need to do if anything's ever to be different this life or next. And out of shame comes nothing but cowardice and my how that burns. I'm still licking some of those wounds.

Reflection? Maybe so, maybe not. If so I guess the universe will provide fodder and maybe it's a time for forgiveness. I think the hardest thing is to forgive ourselves. I'm sounding preachy this morning. I've had an awful lot of fodder in my face lately. I wonder what Mark Madoff really couldn't forgive?

Jeeze O'Pete, there's something dragging at my feet already this morning and it's COLD under there. Oh wait, it's just the dog, wretched ratter that he is. Time to let loose the hamster and get my silly self to work.

In the evenings instead of bashing my brains against the rocks of technical manuals and leftover tears I sit and knit in a zen like state and the most amazing things they come and go.

I sent a Solstice box to a family of them that love me and in the sending set a good part of myself free. Found it wasn't so hard to do after all because it was like a trust fall where I really did, for once in my stubborn disbelieving life (oh you know who you are and can you see the gift you are to me?), believe I would be caught, already was caught as I taped that box shut in a state of absolute glee and at the same time those things I gave away are faery wings for someone else. I can't wait to write about this one but can't yet because it's a surprise.

Alright already! I'm going!

Love, Alecto

(remember to breathe)

p.s. Thank you, Nomans (that part's private but needed to be said out here)