...
I was at my desk outdoors, and you were in my overstuffed chair outdoors. I was hoping you could see I'd been cleaning, that, yes, some of my clutter is still only stuffed into bags until I can sort it, but overall trending toward clean and no longer so encrusted with the sticky powders of demoralization.
Jordan Peterson was somewhere off in an earthly incarnation talking about honesty and truth, that only going for truth and being honest about it will bring truth for the world. We were saying it too, as I nervously stuck a bag of clutter between cleaned desk objects.
My heart was full. Finally the elation was not so overwhelming I could only see you vanish. But then you handed me something odd, like memorabilia encased and strung like sausages, but wound up like a measuring tape and told me to measure a house with it. I did it so carefully, and it almost went the entire girth of the house.
I didn't know if that was bad or good and there was some discussion of something else to finish the circuit around the house, but you'd turned into a beautiful woman, unfamiliar but deeply loved. I pointed off to some painted desert hoodoos and announced that was the Feather River, that stretched for thousands of miles. She nodded. I woke up.
pipe up any time....
