flashes of red and green

nope. not christmas, yet.

first, some background: i am a lucid dreamer and have been since i was a child. i'm sure there's plenty of psychoanalysis to be had there, but not today.  9 out of 10 times i know i am dreaming and make more-or-less aware choices that change the course of my dreams. almost never do i awake from a dream not knowing what is real.  i'm sure that would terrify me.

this weekend i dreamt of a tornado. i was living with vin diesel and paul walker in the third story of an uber modern condo dwelling all wood, concrete and glass on the edge of a small city, nestled in a cloud forest.  our days were filled with riding around in old cars on back mountain roads and laughter.

one stormy evening i had gone to the adjacent building, curled up in a window with drink in hand feeling pensive.  it was eerie outside and i felt anxious--the deep foreboding dread form of anxious, a constant low hum of warning.  i was transfixed on the horizon, the clouds moved strangely over the tree tops and there was a flash of red light.  the lucid part of my brain started mumbling about where this dream was going with its flashing red lights, perhaps aliens?

the tree tops swirled and i, waiting as though sitting on nails, drained the glass unable to shift my gaze. The sky flashed red again, then took on a greenish hue and within seconds the rain came--striking the window sideways. lucid-brain screamed out that it knew what this was and i yelled at people to take cover as i sprinted ruing the glass building with each slow-motion step.

No sooner had i crossed the bridge into our building and yelled the word tornado than the house imploded.  crystals of glass like snow reflecting the green hue swirled around me as the world darkened. i awoke in rubble to the silence that always follows a catastrophe, too late to have saved either of them and perhaps unwittingly, too late to save myself.

time flies.

it's been too long. i know. i wish there was some justifiable excuse for never posting the pictures from quito, or not telling you about all the wonderful visitors we had or depriving you of stories of neah's adventures.  if i weren't nearly so grump-tastic about the sun disappearing faster by the day, i might tell you about epic and ongoing conversations with our wonderful friends about the zombie-apocalypse, intimacy, the nature of prayer and meditation and which gun is best to not get eaten by a bear.

instead, as we near four years here, i'll tell you that some days i actually want it to snow...because there is something soft and calming about the way the snow falls, dampening sound.  i'll tell you that in the dead of winter, when it's bone dry out, i love the squeaking Styrofoam sound that fresh snow makes crushed beneath shoes. i'll tell you that i like to stand in the window at night and watch it fall--silent, unaffected. i'll tell you that i do actually like the warm orange glow the lights cast upon it in the dark.

i'll also tell you that i think i forgot to bring my soul back from this beach two weeks ago.  it has been whispering long distance poetry ever since, communing with muses who apparently don't like the cold since they'd been silent for so long.

my soul got stuck in haifa for a while once too..years in fact. i don't want you to think that i mind--it's like instant travel without the hassle--to feel so completely somewhere else.  so for now, when i close my eyes to seek serenity, this is where i end up.

and i'll tell you that it is the relentless pursuit of betterment rather than perfection that should drive us, fuel our minds and warm our hearts as the winter draws nearer.