7 PM Meeting with Destiny


Story nugget:

She was so sweet, that deer. She stepped right into the crosshairs of Bob’s rifle and poked her head up as if to say, “Look at who you’re killing.” Clenching my stomach, I turned away.

In that moment, two things happened simultaneously. All noise disappeared and all movement froze. It was like I had stepped into a Grant Wood painting. I was surrounded by shapes and patterns, by color and form. Quite simply, the world as I knew it had stopped. A monk shimmered before my eyes. He radiated calm and, in that surreal moment, he seemed familiar, almost like a friend. My heart thumped and yet, strangely, my mind was a calm sea. In what seemed like an eternal moment, we stared into each other’s eyes and connected. I instantly understood that the deer wasn’t going to die after all. It was me… I was going to die, die that very night, die at 7 pm in fact. And, shockingly, then continue in another body.

I forced myself to belly breathe. Did this happen to other people? Was death … flexible? Were there alternatives to the hereafter that we could not begin to imagine? A holographic movie started playing in my mind. I saw the waiting body, the long dark hair, so different from my own short curls. I saw the hospital equipment surrounding a lone, female figure, wilting flowers on a formica table, a tortured older man sitting by her bedside. She didn’t want to be here. She resented being born in the first place. And she couldn’t wait for me. For 7 pm. For release.

The monk took my hand and gently squeezed. “Prepare.” His words were a whisper and a warning. The golden field around me became luminous, the monk’s robe shone with firelight and I could smell the earth, rich and bountiful. It was a freefall into nothingness and then everything snapped back into motion. Bob turned his head to me and smiled. “We’re going have venison tonight, babe!”

I shook my head. I’d had a breakdown. My failing marriage had finally gotten to me and this was clearly an overdue hallucination. There was no way I was dying tonight. Impossible.

“Hey, what are those?” Bob asked, pointing to a path nearby.

Glowing footprints rounded a tree and seemed to vanish even as we watched. My eyes widened. “I think it means I might not make it to dinner tonight.”

Photo by Alice Popkorn

The Daily Post: Connected

Sunday Scribblings: Seven

The Shining Blade

“There are those who have made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven.  He who is able to accept this, let him accept it.”

–Matthew 19:12

Ever since I read this yesterday I’ve been contemplating its meaning- whether in the shower or watching Galaxy Quest with my son or even staring into the fridge wondering what I’m having for lunch.

Like the metaphorical eunuch, can I cut off my false dreams, painful thoughts, and delusional fantasies? Is this cutting off even possible?  I’m intrigued.  I’m scared.  I’ve crushed some thoughts to my chest like an old rag doll – doesn’t matter if it’s coming apart at the seams.  Doesn’t matter if it offers nothing in return for my devotion… I don’t want to let go.

Looking back, I see how loss was part of the journey and even sowed the seeds for future joy. Intellectually I get that. Emotionally, letting go can feel as if I am giving up on purpose (intent, control, resolution). And yet there is something in me that dares to know the truth. Maybe the modern day eunuch questions his thinking and the thoughts release him. Maybe questioning is the fire that heats the blade. Maybe the eunuchs know.

Maybe I can know.

Photo by Xtream_i

The Daily Prompt: Purpose

(and, yes, abbreviated quote from Matthew 19:12 )

Oh Kali

Kali is destroying old boundaries

Healing comes from letting there be room for all of “this” to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy.   – Pema Chodron

I am not walking away from myself today

Instead I sit and choose to burn

Anger rains down on me, ruby red coals

My heart expands in the bittersweet embrace of Kali

Memories collide and tangle, the pain expands

But I am finding myself in these flames

I am holding my heart as it bleeds

I am finding the mother the father the community the best friend I’ve never had


Photo Alice Popkorn

The Daily Prompt: Angry

Twin Flames

me and my shadow

“Why do you watch me?”

I pulled my hood lower across my forehead. “Your aura.”

Black eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe in that stuff.”

“Which is why I’ve kept my distance.”

“And yet I know you’re there all the same. When will you lose interest?”

The fog drifted as I pondered this haunting question yet again. “When I must. When I go to you and instead find my feet walking in another direction.”

He grabbed my shoulders. “I’ve never lead you to believe…”

Now my eyes narrowed. “This isn’t about that. We’re bound. Twin Flames… We work better together than apart.” I pushed his hands off me. “Romantic love doesn’t have to be part of it.”

He laughed. “Do you know what my heart feels when I see you?”

Surprise flashed like lightning. “I didn’t think you felt anything. Or perhaps, pity.”

He walked to a tree, stunted and bent. I could see his form soften in the mist as long steps carried him to the shadows. Devil’s eyes found mine and pinned me. “The need to possess.”

It was a challenge, a fork flung into the middle of a road. And I, sure of his refusal, was completely unprepared.

Photo by Alice Popkorn

The Daily Post: Fork

The Rooster Files and the Meaning of Life


“So you’re telling me this is just a phase?”

“Oh, it’s a phase. It’s totally a phase.”

“But it feels so permanent… this whole being human thing. I mean, until we die. It feels hella real. And I haven’t accomplished a damn thing, you know that, right? It’s embarrassing, really. Heartbreaking.”

“Oh, god, you really believe that matters! Hold on, I have to wipe my eyes.

“So not to be insensitive, but how long do you really think you have on earth? At the outside, say 90 years or thereabouts? Would you even want to be around longer? Never mind, not relevant. Bottom line, you are literally the twitch of a blink of a cosmic eye. There’s only one reason you’re here and everything else is filler. You can judge that filler as good or bad. Accomplished or tragic. But Life isn’t judging you and there is no prize for Best Human. Shit. As if.”

“You make sense, but you’re a rooster so really, I’m probably just talking to myself.”

“If that makes you feel better. I am a rooster, true. But wise as the stars, my friend. Wise as the… But hey, you believe concepts that make no damn sense anyway. Am I just a rooster? Appearances can be deceiving.”

“I’m so lost… Wait. What’s the one thing I’m here for then? Was that rooster speak or do you really know?”

“Being lost is fantastic. Great place to be. When you question everything you enter into freedom. And the one thing? Remember City Slickers?”

“The movie? Where Curly holds up a finger? That’s the one thing?!”

“Ok, corny, but yeah, that’s where I was going except… and here’s a hint… the one thing has nothing to do with accomplishment. He, he… NOTHING to do with it.”

“So find my one thing…”

“Except that it’s not a thing, right? It’s more a state, a north star. Makes sense?  Just don’t compare your one thing to someone else’s.”

“Because I rock, I talk to roosters, and to hell with living up to expectations. That about it?”

“Now you’re getting it! Fly high my dear and don’t be afraid to crow with the sun. It feels good to make a little noise.”

Daily prompt Phase

Photo by Alice Popkorn