Sweet busy winter days, long full winter nights.  Let’s drink deeply this draught of Life.  There’s something going on, all the time.

Yes. The shed is almost done. Done enough, almost, to begin rearranging our living space. That’s a joy.

The seed order is approaching finalization. We’re thinking about the garden plan, gazing at the canvas of the land and dreaming of what the Spring will hold.

The rains come, and go. The snow is small but beautiful. The sun, wonderful.

And every night, I am busy, too.

One night as I slept, I went with friends from all the various times and places of my life, carrying torches, into the depths of a subterranean cavern. There had never been light shed on that place. It was a place that demanded sacrifices, and there were bones everywhere. We were bringing light to that place.

An another night, I was traveling from my mother’s home to my step-mother’s and I got lost. I met an elderly couple who helped me find my way. Sweet old country people, so kind and gentle and funny. When they left me, within sight of home, they told me that they were the ghosts of my childhood farm. When they died, there was nowhere else they wanted to be, so they just stayed.

A few nights ago, I was being chased by a Tyrannosaurus Rex. I was trying to hide from him, but he kept finding me with his yellow eye, and he was fast because he was so large. I was almost to my car when I woke up.

The night after that, I was in a surging crowd. Revolution was in the air. Violence, too.

Last night, I was lost again, this time in the streets of Lhasa, Tibet. I was walking and walking, with absolutely no idea where I was going or even where I wanted to go. The neighborhood was going from bad to worse. Then, an old family friend leaned out of a door across the street and beckoned me. Inside the building it was quiet and beautiful. She was taking part in a retreat, and she brought me right into it, so welcoming and warm. Lost in a city of wisdom, I had been found.

I am grateful to wake each morning, to the presence of my family and the works of waking life. And now, when I go to sleep, there is a sense of anticipation too. I do not know what this surge of sub-conscious activity means, but I am watching to see.  I’ll let you know what I learn.