Not In Kansas Anymore

Ugh.  I forgot how life negating it is to sit on an airplane for five hours.  I had all these grandiose plans to blog and vision and dream… and all those other activities that require effervescence of mind, body and spirit… and then after ten minutes of breathing that cold, stale, re-circulated air my brain turned to grey matter… oh wait, it already was grey matter… My grey matter turned to oatmeal that has been sitting out over night… and all I wanted to do was watch TV and doubt my choice to pick up and flee to tropical paradise.  Yes, I am exaggerating, but the essence of my communication is that the thought frequencies available to me while aboard the aircraft left a lot to be desired and I was afraid I’d be stuck in the mental mud forever.

I have a layover in Honolulu… and I have been lugging my beloved anvil of an old smith corona typewriter all over creation.  You see, I had all these inspired, bursting aspirations to put in a shift as the poetry muse while I waited between flights.  But… but… butt.  Yep, I somehow found my way to the Land of Copious Butts.  Whoops.  I got off the whopper of an aircraft feeling like a threatened little rolley polley all tight and safe in my insect armor.  Everything felt so foreign and the swarming droves of warm bodies with vacant eyes moving about in a trance of hollow ambition… seemed utterly terrifying and unapproachable.  Suffice to say, I am not having one of my high confidence days.  The only ground I have to stand on… is the ground I’m standing on… which should be a source of liberation… but… if it is liberation, it is a shy, introverted sort.

Honestly, as my aircraft approached the island of Oahu and my eyes glued themselves to the vibrant turquoise waters, it was not elation that I felt.  Not even close.  It was more of a, “Gulp!  What in the hell am I doing?  And where is everyone I know and love?”  My eyes welled up with tears but I figured it would be stupid and indulgent to cry, so I just reminded myself that this is all temporary, just like Hawaiian weather.

I remember the precise moment when my heart cracked open and light burst through again.  I was slogging my heavy backpack, yoga mat and typewriter along outdoor breezeways through the dense, warm, tropical air and I passed a lush, open space, a little courtyard sanctuary in the middle of the airport.  I gazed out into the sudden canopy of trees and HARK!  An anonymous bird thrust a dribbling of soft poetry in the direction of my ear!  Receiving this sonic gift from Heaven, my dormant soul stretched and yawned and thawed just enough to remind me who I Am.  And that’s all I needed.  Just one single drop of nectar and I know I am still exactly where I belong, in God’s arms!

I dreamt of cardinals last night as I tossed and turned in fitful anticipation of today’s journey.  I often dream of cardinals.  Not often in the biblical sense (Ha! Remember when I used to use “in the biblical sense” to frame every single idea I spouted out?  And now that is an era long gone… It has now officially become a retro phraseology.)  The cardinals are the ones who have beckoned me here.  They have served as red, winged messengers, luring me seductively along Destiny’s own enticing, winding, stony body of a path.  I’m not just making this up.  I believe in dreams and symbols and nonphysical guides.  Why shouldn’t I?  What’s the alternative anyway… strip malls, antidepressants and frapuccinos?  Grunt.  You take your pick.

I can’t wait to see my first cardinal here on the Kauai!  You can bet I’ll tell you all about it!  I can’t wait for one to sing me a song, too.  I do not remember their song… but I know I will recognize it when I hear it.  It gurgles like playful water dancing about on itself.

My friend Brad, who moved to Kauai two years ago (and has been softly beckoning me here for some time) is going to pick me up from the airport… and you know where he’s gonna take me???



PS~ As I was proofreading this entry, perched on a bench in the tropical courtyard, a young blond woman with sunglasses approached me and asked, “how much for a poem?”  Regretfully, I told her that I didn’t have time to pump one out before my connecting flight… but usually it is an offering from my heart to hers and she is free to offer accordingly.  She persuaded me to do a short one… and she told me that this was a spontaneous trip for her and she was feeling invigorated by adventure, as there was a lot going on in her life right now.  Surprise, surprise.  Her and the rest of her sentient, self-reflective mammalian friends.  I dug the challenge of less space gazing and more typing.  I did it!  She was delighted, thrust a well-worn papery treasure into my gracious, open palm and disappeared again into the folds of the Mystery.  God?  You are SO GOOD!   I can only bow in ticklish reverence.

7 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Sumitra
    Sep 09, 2010 @ 19:27:43

    We are all with you, and you with us.
    Lots of love. Mmmmwah!


  2. souldipper
    Sep 09, 2010 @ 21:09:57

    Oh my, my, my. Imagine that! Isn’t it something to be validated?

    BTW, do you think it is any easier being a mother in this era of blogospheres and technowhizzes? Or do you think it makes it tougher to feel the distance?

    Just wondering and thinking about Sumitra.

    You really are in God’s Arms. I ran across a comment that I am sharing with people who I know have passion:

    “Passion is infectious… the joy of doing what you love attracts others like a moth to a flame. Remember everyone loves someone for doing something they wish they had the guts to… do.”

    It just fits you to a tee. Many blessings you sweet Child of God.


    • Athena Grace
      Sep 10, 2010 @ 14:31:01

      My Mom is not a religious woman (though plenty spiritual)…
      except when it comes to reading my blogs!
      She laps them up and licks the bowl… Huh, Mom?


  3. Naomi Colb
    Sep 09, 2010 @ 22:28:14

    Your poetry plays with my soul like a hot house DJ plays the crowd:)


    • Athena Grace
      Sep 10, 2010 @ 14:28:31

      WOW! I’m gonna swim and frolic around in THAT compliment for a while! Yeah!
      Love You, Nomers!


  4. spirit2go
    Sep 10, 2010 @ 06:35:07

    Dear Athena,

    I started a book last night called the Heretic’s Daughter. She was explaining the call of the Cardinal (not in the biblical sense)! and I feel like I read that in order to send it along to you. He is a special friend of mine, too.

    Quit-it, Quit-it, Quit-it-now

    It’s been a while since I’ve heard one and I keep trying to imitate using these words like a bird would – sure does sound funny…..


    • Athena Grace
      Sep 10, 2010 @ 14:27:18

      You tease! What IS the call of the cardinal?
      … I can’t wait until I get around to reading the book…
      I just started “The Secrets of the Talking Jaguar” by Martin Prechtel,
      and it could be a while before I’m ready for my nextie.
      Thank you for reading on my behalf.
      I adore you!


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