Ask the Priestess

Years ago, I was visiting with my sister. I was living far from her, since I was attending university at the time. We were chatting, and I have no recollection what I said but she sort of froze, looked at me and said, 'You've made a joke!' I looked at her pleasantly shocked face and replied, 'I often do.' Sometimes, we don't fully understand other people, even those closest to us. It had taken over twenty years for my jokes to translate beyond myself, for my sister to "get it". I write this because I want to remind us all that lack of communication is never one-sided. When there is a loss of meaning, it is more than a result of bad hearing, a limited vocabulary or an uncertain context. Words are often considered an unreliable medium, due to their plasticity. Why then do we become so frustrated when the idea does not get across? We forget the world is more outside our heads than within them. That our words, once they leave us, do no more reflect wha...

Last month I saw a seal. A real one, a wild one, not in a zoo, not doing tricks for fish and the enjoyment of tourists. I was crossing a bridge, and I looked down into the water of the docks. I like seeing the birds swimming around among all the buildings, despite the moored barges and the darkness of the quiet water that seeps in from the river. There are seagulls, ducks, a sort of black birds with greenish-yellowish legs and even swans. So when I first saw the black shape floating, I thought it was a dark bird preening (as there was no head). But nope, a second later I realised there were these shiny orbs looking straight at me, nostrils opening and closing and that what was bobbing slightly in the dark water was the slicked-back head of a seal! I was shocked, excited, and worried all at once. Shocked because there I was, in a dock in urban London looking at a wild seal in the water. Excited, because there I was, looking at this beautiful surprise and it was looking back at me. And...

We are social creatures: we belong to a family, a clan, a tribe, a town, a city, a nation, a race, a species. It is this belonging that provides us with identity, through similarity and difference. We become protective for and affectionate to those like us, while detached from and aggressive towards those unlike us. It seems a given, but I wonder. I was at a park the other day. I was early evening, sunny, with a gentle breeze blowing. The park is on the riverbank. Every so often, a tourist boat would go by, crowded, expectant. Whenever one such boat went by, a group of children (no more than 5 or 6 years old) would rush to the railings to call out, to wave, hoping for a response in kind. When the people on the ships returned the wave and the call, the kids were frantic in their joy, running along the path, waving and laughing. Sadly, this only happened in a couple of occasions. Mostly, the children's efforts were ignored, or not "indulged in". Why? I remember doing so...

After a long time without the chance to write here, I am back.  Like the rain... I hope both are equally welcome. Indeed, too much of a good thing can become problematic. These last few months we have been having "gorgeous weather", i.e. sunshine, high temperatures, gentle breezes. So the crops died, the chicks hatched ahead of time, and everyone supposedly loved it. Supposedly, because interestingly enough it is today, when the wind and the rain have made a very felt appearance, that I have seen the most smiles from strangers, huddled by the doors to buildings for a smoke, hurrying under their flimsy umbrellas, hailing cabs while avoiding the splashes of passing traffic. People, even in the city, react to the changes in Nature, to her Needs, to her Pulse. We hide in glass bubbles and do our best to control the environment (mostly by destroying it, but that'll be in another entry) - yet our cells soak up the moisture and rejoice. The air is fresh, so is our spirit. Wh...

They say "time is money", "time is a variable", "time is just an element to measure other things, like speed"... So, what IS time? Let's see... I have to go by the area of Canary Wharf daily (for those who don't know, it is the London UK equivalent to Wall Street), and every time I do so, I feel more and more confused. I feel like Momo watching the Gray Men in Michael Ende's fable. If you happen to be by during "working" time, the streets are semi-deserted, while the underground shopping centre glitters with marbley floors, bank offices and shops. Then, at lunch time, a rush of hurried minions floods the area, all in dark suits, all on their mobiles, not a smile in sight, but many watches checked. They are hungry and impatient - they only have 15 or 30 minutes to get lunch, and "time is money"! So they queue at the counters of the fast-food places (half the mall) or tap their toes while waiting to purchase a ready-made mea...

One day it rains, one day it shines. So we learn to look for the beauty in these changes. For example, on the way from the gym there is a gorgeous tree that has been offering its furry, green encased yellow blossoms since the days of snow. Its "owners" (I refuse to believe anyone can actually own anything living) chopped off some of its branches, added a box to encourage small wildlife to nest amongst its boughs. Every day I go by, it is a bit greener, a tad furrier. I kiss one of the almond-like promises of life, it seems to sigh and giggle. Then, a few days ago, I noticed that many other trees and bushes are beginning to coat their clipped ends with little spots of green feathers, of pink skin, of reddish scales. They all seem to sigh and giggle, too, as I go by without a scarf, or fighting a reluctant umbrella, always beckoning me to stop for a quick caress. They know they make my smile wider, that I carry that smile on to be spread across the city. If you want to sque...

Winter was a time feared, a time of darkness, a time of little sunlight and much cold. What fools we were!! What fools we are, when we still complain about it, knowing it is not right! We are nearer the end than the beginning of winter, quickly forgetting that back when it started, the days ended a full hour earlier. We also forget that the "dead of winter" was, in fact, last year, since the season started in December, and that it was already following the cold and snow that brought us to a halt. What do we have now? We have cool days, and rain and longer hours of sunlight. We have the promise of Life, spring, summer, ahead of us. We thought that autumn was ominous, that winter would be dark and dank, yet here we are: the monster that we had feared passed before we even heard it come! Instead of a gnarling beast with cavernous jaws we find a meowing kitten at our doorstep, shivering, craving Love. Winter as a death-bringer is an illusion: most people can tell you when i...