foggy return blog…

got off the bolt bus from portland, into freezing fog and seakhawks fans dotting the curb.  scurried down the bus hole and hopped onto the first one.  crowded but a seat for me.  the walk up the hill in the thick cold fog felt enlivening, like the way i felt the wind enter me in paranormal portland.  that thirty five degree wind shaking all the trees at once, housed itself in my bones like a spirit.  now i am wind.  now seattle’s emollient fog swaddles me in dreams and lucidity.   comfort, deep thoughts, and the mystery pervades.  stop at my regular place to get dinner.  a beer and popcorn.  out pours the words i have been waiting for all weekend onto the page, while munching and sipping like a squirrel and a fish….knowing all the while, i will have to walk into the ice box that is my home, after four days left standing in the cold.  forcing myself up the hill to do so, but the foggy walk felt so good, like the way the sea feels good.  cleansing and clearing.  diffused street lights contrasting the black night, lulling my mind into a placid place.  upon entering i put on a thousand layers, crank up the electric base board (crappy) heater, and unpack while talking out loud to myself, processing everything from the past four days down south.  the softness which has encompassed this heart.  all shortcomings seen as innocent.  every wound tenderly licked.  love pouring out super thick.  yoda in the mind and wookie cravings.  light up first, agarwood incense.  next, sage the entire space.  boil a pot of roobios tea.  wash my face.  wonder if i am supposed to move to miami.  open and ready for what is next, whatever it may be.  the unknown abound.  could be anything from the mundane to the profound.  the adult self and the kid self, side by side.  knowledge, wisdom, the great divide.  getting drained in the new age store, and revitalized in a distillery.  the shadow tries to hide in it’s coyote tomfoolery.  purposeful cliches.  saying the names of each day.  doing what’s best to accept the decay…