I must massage a bunch of photographs for the next posting, and that will take most of the time I would today spend researching and writing the next chapter of Java Chronicles. However, here’s a digression - I told you there would be digressions.
Drinking (alcohol that is) always depresses me, which is why I don’t drink often, and never drink very much. Forget the dehydration, it’s the loss of outlook that I consider a hangover. Its probably been this way as long as I’ve been an adult, but it really became apparent once I trained in Reiki. I found then that the slightest amount of alcohol grossly inhibited my sight, and, discovering also that the effect lasted a couple of days, I stopped drinking at all for a few months. Now, I just accept the consequences, and indulge rarely.
Anyway, I saw some excellent music last night, had a couple of beers, and felt happiness in the company of friends. That’s a special kind of happiness, the kind that nothing can ever take away, and it comes from the kind of distributed love that sustains the members of any community. But, the morning was different. I woke to a chill, grey day, and thought of “California Dreaming”.
A little cat jumped up on my bed, and snuggled up to my chest, purring and pushing his forefeet and closing his eyes - giving the kind of soft love that a cat gives so well. And I felt the emptiness that’s been residing in my heart for months now. Having let slide the denial and distractions I had applied like a compress over a pavement burn, I felt the emptiness prominently. I didn’t want to be feeling that way, but that’s not the kind of thing one really gets a choice in. Once you open yourself to another, when the options are closed off, grief is inevitable. Still, why can’t it be sunny?
Seeking optimism, I thought of collating photographs of Colorado, and the joy of re-living the experiences in order to share them with you all. And, then, I realized that I have the power to travel back to Cerrillos, or Taos, or the Rio Grande in my mind, and to dwell in the sun and adventure. And, it would be so very easy to spend the next couple of hours catatonic, but happy. But, that’s not the way forward, and the cat, Gabriel - the messenger, is insistent.
So, “California Dreaming” could not be suppressed, and I have my own version. I wondered why I had felt such a strong sense of homecoming in New Mexico, particularly in the area around Santa Fe. I recalled that although I was born in Manhattan, and I have long claimed my formative years to have been as a city kid, in truth I spent my infancy and toddlerhood (no, that’s not recognized by the spell checker) in the hills of Burbank. Yes, that’s right, my earliest experiences of the environment beyond my mother are of the sun and heat and canyons and hills of California, and those are not so very much different than the surroundings at Madrid, or Cerrillos! In that child mind that is at the core of us all, I had indeed come home to where I had been nurtured!
So my friends, I owe these thoughts to a little black and white cat, whose greatest adventures are batting a stuffed mouse around, or boxing with a Maine Coon twice his size, or some mysteries he keeps from me in his wanderings outside. I will correct the photographs today, but will wait for some sunny hours to re-visit Colorado with you.
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