Monday, February 9, 2009

Taking the Plunge


Oh my.

I have been wondering forever how to start this up again. I've missed writing this blog so much I ache! But, again, where to start, what to say, after so long and so much in between? Ah well. Rambling a bit may work.

Where the day takes us, yes?

On New Year's Eve, I woke up in the middle of the night, back in Santa Barbara. I awoke out of a dream of a mermaid and a compass. Sometimes I wake up with a phrase, very clearly spelled out for me. Then I research, and reflect, and wait for the layers to reveal. (I write all this from a sofa at Starbucks -- with a happy, caffeinated mermaid on the logo... uh-huh.)

One legend I read depicts mermaids as sort of protective guides for sailors. Think of that for a moment-- in the midst of a charted course that makes all the sense in the world, you may look out and see what feels truer than a map. An apparition? A trick of mind that plays on you in the night, in the vast waters? A voice that you cannot help but follow? Perhaps you believe it real, perhaps not, but the mermaid playfully points out your true course: an alternative route, leading who-knows-where. Do you follow your heart, your faith, and a call? Or do you go back to the rigid, the linear, the set-out course plotted by those who came before?

Here's the thing. I have been on this journey a while, flung between ports, and find myself back in the middle - surrounded by dry, flat land everywhere I look. The only sea around me now is in my imagination and my soul.

I listen to my dreams, and I believe I am called to throw away the clunky compass I've been handed. To follow my imagination, go with the wind wherever it takes me, and see that true north can be found differently.


"Waiting For Icarus"

He said he would be back and we'd drink wine together
He said that everything would be better than before
He said we were on the edge of a new relation
He said he would never again cringe before his father
He said that he was going to invent full-time
He said he loved me that going into me
He said was going into the world and the sky
He said all the buckles were very firm
He said the wax was the best wax
He said Wait for me here on the beach
He said Just don't cry

I remember the gulls and the waves
I remember the islands going dark on the sea
I remember the girls laughing
I remember they said he only wanted to get away from me
I remember mother saying: Inventors are like poets, a trashy lot
I remember she told me those who try out inventions are worse
I remember she added: Women who love such are the worst of all
I have been waiting all day, or perhaps longer.
I would have liked to try those wings myself.
It would have been better than this.
--Muriel Rukeyser


I am tired of waiting, looking off to that horizon.
My heart is my compass. My words carry me home.

All at sea,
Steph