So many mysteries surround the hour that separates one day from another. It is death and new birth simultaneously. The end and the beginning. As it is with everything created. Actually one can see the beauty in it, the spiritual significance. The midnight hour has had songs written about it, and rituals for good and evil were performed at the stroke of it. Billy Preston said he would wait for the midnight hour for his love to come tumbling down :-)
I suppose that's why I associate it with the rare beauty of the mysterious orchid, under a titanium white moon. This Blog is like the Midnight Orchids, as you can be completely anonymous if you like. (Although I suspect many of you have guessed my alter ego's identity). I sure hope you will share be it the very deepest of thought, or shallow comments, humor, observations, and anything you'd like. This Blog is by invite only so please feel free to share with like minded spirits. The more the merrier. Let's enjoy.
Indea
2 comments:
Family Relationships
I guess I'm not good at those, especially with those younger than me. I really don't understand this generation at all. Perhaps it's just as well. They don't get me either.
Indea
Midnight is not my witching hour. Mine usually comes around three a.m. when all my good voices are sound asleep and the evil little second-guessers, doubters, and nay-sayers come out of their hidey holes to play in my brain. How do they remember that I accidentally suffocated my hampster in the fourth grade?
Their tiny little voices sound like thunder in my ears and their spinning little forms find a way to burrow into my tear ducts. I clap my hands over my ears like lightning and silently shout at them to stop!
How can my angels sleep through all this commotion? But sleeping they must be, perhaps exhausted from keeping those voices at bay during their wakeful watch.
Then I summon the brothers. Elizabeth Gilbert was in Bali, researching or writing Eat, Pray, Love. In the book, she tells of the Balinese belief that there are four spiritual brothers who stand at the corners of our beds while we sleep and watch over us. As an only child, the thought of four watchful brothers sounds divine.
When I told of this to a friend, the response was that I could not just take a piece of a religion and adopt it. I say, why not?
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