You can pick your nose.
You can pick your friends.
But you can’t pick your friend’s nose.
Put that in your blog and smoke it!
Jesus Evil Kachina tested me. Do you want world peace? I do. Are you at peace with yourself? Getting there. The last eight days, yes. Thank you.
While driving, I talked with Shemaya about gut feelings and the trick of learning to distinguish between the “gut” that’s reactive defensiveness and the “gut” that’s intuitive guidance. She explained “the enteric brain” to me (note especially the section on The Third Neurotransmitter: serotonin), which I hadn’t heard about before. We agreed it’s probably connected (somehow) to the biochemical pathways in the mind that channel consciousness.
I actually arrived a bit earlier than announced yesterday evening, so drove past the road to S.E.’s and on toward Wellington. Turned around when I made eye contact with a young Great Horned Owl perched on a road sign. She made eye contact with me again when I returned and slowed down to pull onto the shoulder, then launched herself lazily in front of me, flapping ponderously over to a less exposed branch in a nearby tree. Her gaze pierced me as I continued to watch. After a bit, she moved another ten feet and decidedly looked the other way.
I was reminded of the older owl I watched in the Reserve in Montana the last time I was there . . . the consensus was that poor girl hadn’t caught anything for awhile otherwise why would she be out in the middle of the day? I sat by myself and watched her for a good half-hour that long and lovely midday hike.
Last night, the sighting was just at dusk after a rosy sunset.
Almost finished listening to Prodigal Summer. Deanna offers up this childhood prayer in a moment of astonished gratitude:
Thank you for this day
For all the birds safe in their nests
For whatever this is