27 December, 2003


A book I finished recently had me yearning for my I-Ching paraphenalia, that for awhile I carried with me everywhere. I have yet to finish personalizing these tools.

I polish up the brass coins Barbara at Somewear Beyond minted for me a couple of years ago, and go through my pamphlets. Though I am midway through the rewriting process, replacing each oracle with a new one more geared for the Western ear, and I realize that I am half-and-half new and old, I did not know that I had no version at all, old or new, of Mountain.

No Mountain. No Mountain?

Metaphorically, that would explain a lot. Like the time I had to shop for Mimi supplies because I was out of Joy. Out of Joy. I have made it a point since then to always have at least a partially full bottle of Joy somewhere in my domain. I lacked in Mountain, stillness, contemplation. My Mountain went missing.

I rewrite the Mountain pamphlet, stunned that I should have lost track of it, since it contains some of my very favorite oracular readings. It takes most of the day.

Coins polished, I throw two related questions. How surprised am I that one comes up Brief Encounter and the other is Soul Mates? Not at all. The DaVincian principle of Sfumato at work once again. Neither being, incidentally, from the freshly crafted Mountain paper.

And nearly equal in silliness factor, for my horoscope at Free Will Astrology, Rob Breszny gives me this quote from Abraham Maslow: "The great lesson from the true mystics is that the sacred is in the ordinary, that it is to be found in one's daily life, in one's neighbors, friends, and family, in one's back yard." True. A year late to be strictly informative, but true.

Life. You have to laugh. No one gets out alive; meanwhile, go for maximum amusement.

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