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More Synchronicity / Apophenia

Invigorating. Some inspiring. Some exasperating (almost to the point of expiring....)
All of it interesting....

The Dove of Peace
Most of the time, when doves appear outside my home, they are perched on the telephone wires that run alongside the street adjacent to the back of the property. Two weeks ago on a Saturday, after returning from a lovely neighborhood community event - the pancake breakfast at the Potrero Hill Neighborhood House - I was sitting at my dining table, filling out the application for a board position when my partner noticed that a dove had perched on the armrest of one of our deck chairs.

The dove remained there for an indeterminate amount of time; enough time for Mario and I to gaze upon it for several moments, enough time for me to suggest to Mario that he attempt to photograph it, enough time for Mario to surreptitiously withdraw from the room to head upstairs and retrieve our digital camera, enough time for Mario to take several shots from the far side of the room using the zoom, enough time for Mario to get bored with the activity of staring at the bird and leave the camera on the dining table while returning upstairs, enough time for me to decide to move closer to the glass door and attempt to take a better close-up photograph of the bird, enough time for me to actually get up and slowly position myself to take those photographs, enough time to take a half-dozen shots and then continue to gaze (stare?) at the bird.

The bird seemed to be regarding me as much as I regarded him/her (I can't distinguish gender characteristics of the gray doves that inhabit western North America). After a long, silent exchange of deliberate eye contact, woman to avian, avian to woman, the dove flew off, to a tree just beyond our back fence, where it stayed for quite some time longer.

Mario and I had both agreed that the dove's visit to the deck of our home was a "good sign."

The Nation
This morning, I went downstairs to turn the heat on in our house, after we had spent a cold, cold night. I had been dealing with my latest bout of insomnia using the best resource available at my fingertips, Zaadz. I was feeling peaceful and joyful and full of light, despite the intense cold and the appearance of an incredibly fogged-in San Francisco day.

After I adjusted the thermostat, from "Off" to 70 degrees Fahrenheit (for non-US residents, that's 21 degrees Centigrade), I paused at the dining table where Mario had placed the mail (or post as you Brits prefer). Our latest copy of "The Nation" had arrived.

The cover of the magazine was text-rich;  the seal of the United States of America was in relief, behind a paragraph with an orange first sentence and subsequent sentences in white. This is what I read:

World Opinion is against
the US escalation in
Iraq. The American people are
against it. Congress is against it.
The Iraqi people are against it.
The Iraqi government is against it.
Can a single man force a nation
to fight a war it does not want to
fight, expand a war it does not
want to expand? If he can, is that
nation any longer a democracy
in any meaningful sense? If not,
how can democratic rule and the
republican form of government be
restored?

I stood at the dining table and sighed heavily. The lightness slowly seeped from my body and a heaviness began to descend into my bones. I took a deep breath. Then I took another. And another. Then I moved away and looked out my windows (There are eight unadorned windows that face the backyard on the "living room" side of our shared dining/living room area).

There were four or five doves perched on the telephone wires.

I remembered my visitor from two weeks ago and decided my next move. As I began the ascent up the stairs to my home office computer, the heater kicked in. As I am writing this blog at this moment, the temperature in my house is becoming less frigid, but my fingers and toes are still painfully cold. (From time to time, I sit on my hands so the combined warmth from my buttocks and the cushion on which I sit help bring back some dexterity.)

I do what I feel I MUST do.

I hold onto HOPE. With my body, with my mind, with my essential self. I am holding.

And my Hope is my FAITH. My faith in the inherent goodness of Humanity.

This is all that I AM.
I AM. [breathing deeply: inhaling prana, exhaling HOPE] - I feel loss, loss of Hope.....

I AM. [breathing deeply: inhaling prana, exhaling SADNESS] - I weep silently so as not to wake my partner...

I AM. [breathing deeply: inhaling prana, exhaling HOPE] - I am desparate, no more hope means no more air means no more oxygen means no more life.....

I look around WILDLY, my last ounce of HOPE is spent in an attempt to grab onto something, someone.... Anything that might save me. Anything or Anyone who might help me restore my life.... I find someone...he was present in front of me the whole time, minimized on my Start menu...my prince.

I AM [breathing deeply: inhaling prana, exhaling LOVE And Gratitude]

Namaste.