Into the great beyond.

September 7, 2012

haven”t blogged in a while, but I have certainly been writing.

I started on the book. 2 weeks ago I saw it. In my mind, the page layout, the chapters, the book exerpted from this blog,  it called me so I started. I had three days by myself and I was determined to get a significant start and I did.

What a process, go back in time and relive the events, moments, highs and lows. I am now on chapter 8, well if it’s going  that fast it is because everything is basically written an my job is to add what was missing, cut what is not needed and rewrite some bits.

It’s my work right now and I want to get it done.  I feel there is a timeline somewhere in the ether that demands that I work hard at it.  So I do.

Besides that?  The deal with Go Guitars fell through and that was a disappointment. I was really looking forward to represent the company, I really believe in the instrument and I had been preparing for this, learning music and polishing my classical chops to perform on the nylon string Go guitar. That was also a possibility of visa. A way in. Not anymore.

 

So life goes. I’m not upset. Things never are accidental so if this happens then it’s the way it must be.

I stay in the house where my soul sister lived. Sometimes it grabs me powerfully, we always had so much fun.  But it is also a balm to be in her space. She was such an artist and she speaks through all the books, the artwork, the things that she created, chose, all that is here.

 

One day I was looking at the books on the shelves and they called to me.

The first books I read were Nick Bantock’s Griffin & Sabine’s stories. They instantly grabbed me and I read them all in a few days. Those instantly inspired me.  I saw in my mind, the shaping of something that was just on the edge of awareness, something I want to write, a series of poems, images and music, 7 or 8 of them.   I got sketches, I’m working on the poems here and there.

 

Then, another day I looked on the shelves in the living room. This one called me very strongly:

“The Prophet” Khalil Gibran.

 

I had seen that name before. I started to read. Within a few pages I know this is something I must read. This is the words I need. Right now. The words to help me understand Love. Lost love. Pain. Joy. Life and the immense gifts it offers if one is willing to take all of it in, to accept the teachings.

 

 

These days I constantly I find myself astounded, looking around me, feeling the air, seeing the sun, among loving souls, sharing a meal or a something to drink, sharing good words, jokes or the deepest conversations.  I feel I’ve been given jewels.  They are beyond beautiful and sometimes beyond what anyone could imagine, such gifts.

 

 

It’s been otherworldly.

Last week end we had an important errand to run. It was the ascribed day to scatter Melanie’s ashes over the Pacific. It is something I had never done. I wanted to be there, would be honored to be there and yet I had no idea how one does that.

The plan was to get to the beach at sunset.

We drove the 10 towards the ocean. The sun was straight ahead of us. Cars zooming, we are on a mission.

 

 

 

 

 

We arrived at the destination. Found a parking spot, but had no change for the meter. No one would give us change unless we sat and ate a meal in their establishments. I had one quarter. 12 minutes. I was a bit concerned but then realized Ozzy was putting  a spell on the car.

“We’ll be fine.” He said.

“All right.” I replied.

We walk to the pier. There are dums beating, parties getting started, the whole place is full of life. Melanie would have approved.

 

I feel the wind. I wonder how you release ashes without covering yourself with them. In all the movies I ever saw, people end up wearing them.

 

The air is impossibly alive, fresh from the great beyond, out in the  Westward seas. The sound of the crashing waves.   The sky is orange, the ocean is a deep blue with diamond sparkles. Melanie would approve.

 

Quicker than I ever thought possible Ozzy has the ashes taking the push of gravity and heading into the great blue yonder. He figured a way to let them go from underneath the railing. No one is even aware of what is going on. Then the wreath of white flowers and branches was released. We watched.

 

The ashes are visible in the water, making shapes, flower petals float around and the wreath is there, life preserver for the great unknown waters of the afterlife. It was simple. Poetic. Powerful.

 

 

We drove back towards the east. On the left we can see an endless line of plane’s headlights aligning into a ribbon towards LAX as we course the 10. The moon is on our right. The night is gorgeous. The important errand has been accomplished.

All is well.  I could write more, I could say and tell all sorts of things.  But I don’t really know how to express the depth of what is going on right now.  A lot is going on.  To go from lost to found, from turmoil to peace, To  feel the calling of the Gods.  To be touched to the core by life.  To see the unfolding of a greater plan and knowing that much more is to come, that now is a time to prepare and a time for immense gratitude for all that comes my way, all that happened.  There were and there are no accidents.

I am immensely grateful.

 

I am on purpose.  On my path.  The Gods are with me.

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2 Responses to “Into the great beyond.”

  1. David Walker Says:

    I can add nothing more Danielle than, there are no ordinary moments. David

  2. Madeleine Filion Says:

    “Le Prophète” de Khalil Gibran est dans ma bibliothèque depuis près de 60 ans. C’est probablement là que tu as vu ce nom. Je t,aime, Mawie


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