I'm sitting out in the late evening Sun, here in lovely Temecula California.
I've come to call my home of the last 10 years, Summer's Winter home.
There's a clear sky and a strong breeze from the South. This is classical for Temecula. At the mouth of a valley that leads all the way to San Diego. You could set your clock by the afternoon breeze nearly.
We had a visit this evening from my stepson, his wife, and our two granddaughters. As with all things, life is at moment of change. There is only one constant in life, and that is change. Of this change, it's not my time to tell, but my hope is that it's a good one.
I'm sitting here smoking the second half of one of my favorite cigars. An Inch cigar, crafted by Master cigar blender Ernesto Carrillo. This is the legendary blender of La Gloria Cabana, set free to make cigars the way he wanted to. To me these cigars are a little bit of magic. They take my mind in a different direction than is usual.
I'm reading the first chapter of Don Quixote by Miguel Cervantes. The first translation I found was barely accessible, because of the archaic English. I had to resort to purchasing the penguin publishing version. Still as many times as I've heard of this story, I figured at some point in this life I should at least read it. Maybe it will teach me something.
I'm listening to the sounds of the neighborhood, and glad that my neighbors long irrigation has finally shut off, as it was misting through the fence while I'm trying to enjoy my cigar. A small aggravation. Maybe a little bit like pepper in soup. I suppose it spices it up a bit.
I'm reflecting on a Memorial Day weekend with half left to go. It should be a somber time, in many ways. And to some extent it is, given the true meaning of Memorial Day. However, it also lets me relax a little. A little.
I've tried to reach out to a few family members over the past couple of days, but even modern communications can't break through schedules and busyness. I suppose one must treasure the moments where connection is actually possible. They are few, at least in my estimation, but precious when they happen.
I've been working on writing a book, of course I have the temerity to write out my theory of life the universe and everything. I do not know if the answer will turn out to be 42. Somehow, I suspect it will figure in somewhere. I refuse to take it too seriously, but rather enjoy it, and the process of writing it. It will probably take me a few months, as I only get to write it on Saturdays. Often very late at night is the time I am allotted. Still those quiet hours are the best. Unlike the helicopter riding over my head right now.
Even as I write this, there are car doors banging, engines starting, wind chimes chiming, leaves rustling, birds flying overhead and calling, Ravens battling hawks, and all the chatter of the world has to offer when we listen.
I often have many thoughts on the nature of poetry. I think it is when our conscious mind and our unconscious mind are able to work together to bring forth the words of the subconscious mind that we all share. I think it is the interconnectedness of being who exist in a universe full of quantum entanglement. I also think it is the joyous painting of a single moment in time and space, and are observation of that moment painted in words. Somehow I find that mental mode to be one of the most gratifying. Very similar in my mind, to the way that sunset feels. It is beautiful, but it is also the ending of a moment in time.
There is a sentiment, or feeling, known as the poet's ache. I think it must be this, this blending of beautiful and ending, sadness and joy at the same time. Also somewhat like pepper in soup.
I write as one whose natal chart is ruled by Mercury. Somehow, poetry seems to me one of the best means of communication. Even as in my work life, I help build the communication systems of the world. It seems my life has been dedicated to communication in one form or another, regardless of whether I am very good at it in the day to day of living.
In the modern world, it is something that we all must live with; this feeling of trying to remain connected with friends and family that we must love at a distance. We can communicate instantly, yet how many moments can we communicate? How many moments can we share? Are we all really one being experiencing different realities in their trillions? Who can say?
I hope that when my book is written, people enjoy laughing at it as much as they enjoy enjoying it. Whether they hate it, love it, or think it is silly, I'd rather that than that they ignore it or are indifferent to what it says about life. Maybe that's hubris. Maybe that's just human. Maybe it's both. Kind of like walking and chewing gum at the same time.
I hope all of you are enjoying your weekend, spending time with those you love, doing something you love, or just getting the quiet down time that you finally finally found.
I wonder if I will be some kind of modern day Don Quixote, tilting at the dragons of time and space which are far too big for me. Now that, is very much like pepper and soup. LOL
My regards to you all from this one moment of soupy existence.
AquarianM
Dan Stafford
