I'm not really over the vestiges of this cold, now made infernal (now there's an oxymoron for you) by the Griffith Park fires raging up behind my home. Though we're in no danger of evacuation, et. al. here in the canyon, the smoke has given me a headache and general body weariness that is hardly amenable to the work schedule I'm meant to be honoring. It's nothing like the illness I experienced three years ago during those major fires north and south of LA that covered this city for about four days. I left work at noon each one of them - winded from walking up a single flight of stairs, complete muscle fatigue, respiratory problems, the list goes on. Even my normally eager to hike dog was flattened out and listless on the floor for that entire period. I wonder how the animals over at the zoo are faring?
I couldn't help thinking this morning, as I was asked to sign an online petition for the restoration of habeas corpus, that the damage done there last October wasn't so unlike the 600 acre swath burned down last night. Something hungry and vengeful can tear through another thing old and established quite readily if there is no protective vigil.
Does it sound like I am in a funk? I am not. Despite aches and pains, I am quite a happy girl these days. Things are progressing in a way that can be described as flowing, synchronistic, serendipitous, integrated, and flowing. Everything seems very in alignment there, and I'm more grateful than I can say. I really hope the work I'm doing for them ultimately pans out. I am hopeful. Just yesterday, through the gracious offer of a friend, I booked them an interview on a branch of the second most trafficked website on the internet. I won't tell you where yet, so as not to jinx it, but stay tuned... I wish I could take some credit for all the things that are going on, and while I realize that I am doing a good job of connecting the dots, and that much of these oppourtunities come from the connections I've made and affinities I've built over the last five years, it really feels just as though it's falling from the heavens and into my lap. This is a lovely feeling, and I wouldn't trade it for any other.
So maybe the lesson, if there is one to be gleaned from the disparate parts of this disjuncted psuedo-essay, is that that one doesn't have to violate in order to build or to take for oneself. Better to do your work, attempt to create, and have the patience to know that when the day comes, something bigger propels you forward, like a gentle but powerful wind at your back. Or maybe it's the warm current in a river. Whatever metaphor you fancy, and I'm sure there are plenty more to make, the world will carry you if you don't try to force things.
Much love to you all.