The Devil. Lust and addiction.
Ace of Wands. Lust and inspiration.
And the Moon. Today is the new moon; the fresh turning of a page.
The next full moon will be in Scorpio! Secrets will surface, and submerged passions will bare themselves in the light of that moon. Hopefully, right? That’s what makes this lockdown so fun!
But that’s 2 weeks away! I can’t wait that long. I’ll have to immerse myself in the darkness of the new moon, to practice surrendering to the empty page.
It’s cooling off as autumn progresses, and it seems that most of the Israeli kids don’t go out for a daily walk, especially not alone. I wish they all would spend some time alone with nature, because i enjoy it so much, and i want them to experience God like that, too.
Today, I shared one of my secret spots with a bunch of the Israeli kids. It was nearby and easily accessible to Moshe, who is only now trying to walk after being on bed rest. It’s been maybe 2 weeks since he hurt his back. He’s been in considerable pain, but he’s managing to self-medicate fairly well.
I visited him once or twice while he was immobile, since Room 5 is just across the hall from Jessica and I. He was weak and vulnerable and alone – a predator’s dream! I hoped at least to set some foundations for a friendship that might have benefits. Maternal sympathy for his poor back always won out over lust, of course, and I couldn’t figure out what to do with him, so I slunk away and let it go.
It turned out that the crowd that would be following me to my secret spot was rather large. We’d been told to stay in groups smaller than 4 when we left the compound so that our bubble of 22 would be less intrusive to the locals.
The locals had been horrified when a large group of the Israeli kids – about 10 of them – had made an exhilarating game of jumping off the Albert Town bridge into the cool aquamarine river 10 meters below. This happened only a few days into lockdown, when it was still warm and fear was still poisoning peoples’ hearts. Numbers were called, videos were taken, fingers flew, bubbles shuddered, and Peter had to give the kids a stern talking-to on behalf of the police sergeant.
So, we left for my hidden cove without warning. It was a wink and a word from Ariel, and i grabbed the bong and whisked the kids away with confidence.
I wanted to take them into the little bower that the Mormon had found. There would be plenty of space in the dappled shade of the willow for us all to spread out along the river and watch its current flow.
They didn’t want to go all the way into the bush where we’d be truly hidden under the tree, in our own world. I didn’t press them too far, because they are so young, and must be forgiven for being timid. Cautious. Wise to an old predator’s tricks.
How do i separate one from the group?
It was enough that they were in the sun and off the compound, so we huddled in a somewhat secluded area on the grassy riverbank. Secluded enough to break out the bong and a baggie and a case of beer, anyway.
Finally! We were out in nature, laughing together, softening together. Now, if only i could engineer inner joy and outer silence for these cute kids, they’d be well on their way to bliss. But that’s not my journey, not my business.
Silence is a challenge for most people. When silence blessed our mellow group, it rested for less than a minute before sweet, bright Joseph murmured:
“How many different birds can you hear right now?”
They eagerly rose to the challenge: 3, 6, maybe 5; the numbers popped up to replace the avian symphony with the human ego. They joked lightly, and I heard Shira’s razor-sharp wit for the first time.
Shira looks suspiciously like Venus posing on the half-shell; her rich golden-brown hair waving long and loose almost to the waist. She’s Joseph’s girlfriend. Shira’s smile is wide and sexy, so it was easy to think that she got along with the guys so well because she was the most relaxed of all the Israeli girls. She drank and smoked and jumped off the Albert Town bridge in a bikini like a gangster.
My inability to understand Hebrew kept me from hearing her clever tongue. Today, they all spoke in English for me (God, i love these kids) and I finally got to hear a perfectly-timed retort from her sword-sharp mind. This is why she’s so beautiful!
She came up with a fun little game: we’d just go around and disclose our favorite animal and the color of our underwear. They all had such sweet animal totems: Shira was giraffe, Ariel was a sea turtle, Moshe was a whale, Joseph was a penguin. I chose a wolf. We laughed at the color of our undergarments, and then we had to go around and make the noise of the animal we’d chosen. What does a sea turtle or penguin even say? Giggles and guesses sufficed. I was the last to go, and I’m proud that i only hesitated for a moment.
I’ve practiced my howl, in the dark emptiness after my dogs’ deaths. I know the timbre of that foreign tongue, even if i’m not fluent in the language. It’s wildness and pride and grief and surrender. It’s the heart of the Earth singing both sides of the story: both love and sorrow.
I kept it light and short, but i didn’t deny myself the truth of the wolf’s voice. I threw my head back so that my throat was in line with heaven and earth and the despair of everlasting love poured into the clear sky like a column of smoke.
We laughed at ourselves and gently stumbled home before it got too dark.
On the way, Itai told me that the door to Room E in the vacant lodge across the street was open. Just unlocked – anyone could walk right in and have their own private space.
In return, i told him that i’d found the key to Room 8 in our lodge. Room 8 has been locked since the beginning, since we fill the other 7 rooms evenly, if not comfortably. That room was kept unoccupied, presumably for use as a quarantine chamber. I snuck in and found a nice double bed and a bunk in Room 8. Seems like a good shag pad to me, but i didn’t tell Itai that.
Our bubble is expanding.
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