It’s a cloudless morning, but it seems to be getting dimmer. Luckily, I had just gotten an email notification from Suzi’s Buy Me a Coffee site about watching today’s eclipse.
Oh, that’s right. Some big deal ring of fire eclipse is happening today.
And the Epoch Times kindly sends news alerts about Things They Think I Should Know, so I’m not allowed to forget about the escalating situation in Israel.
Other than glancing at the headlines, though, I don’t dive in. Hard to credit it, but once upon a time, I thought I’d make a good journalist.
I am embodying the opposite of a journalist’s curiosity. A good journalist would spend untold hours combing sources for glittering strands of truth, and then weave a story for eager readers. After one college journalism class in the late 70s, that half-baked aspiration died on the vine. Instead, I took innumerable writing courses and voraciously read everything I could find on how to write and publish fiction.
Decades later, my novels are unpublished, but I’ve found a home writing for online publication. My articles have often taken elements of current affairs and intertwined them with My Life, but that’s less so, nowadays.
I’m not apathetic, but I am weary to the point of stupefaction, awaiting Big Events that have long been forecast by the truther community. I’ll put a positive spin on this disengagement, and call it a step toward the freedom of 5D.
I confess, these days I’m gravitating toward things that make me smile rather than hot topics that act as a genesis for aggrieved articles (people needlessly wearing masks, the threat of mandatory vaccines…).
My gaze passes over my Tarot cards corralled by their silver elastic, and I spontaneously smile. I realize I can start the “ancestor work” I’ve recently heard about through this tool I already have. No need to set up an elaborate altar and buy “ancestor cards.” I’ll just dive right in.
Instantly, the portentous eclipse and the frightening possibility of escalating war disappear from my inner viewscreen. I get to do something creative with my cards! There’s literally nothing I can do about what the eclipse may spawn, no way I can halt a war across the world. But I can satisfy my hunger for creative activity, that deceptively simple form of channeling that anyone, anywhere, can do.
A few clouds are drifting over the sun. If I were determined to observe this eclipse, I’d probably find that upsetting. As it is, I note the interesting shapes of puffy whiteness, and wonder if I could capture it on paper.
The phrase “fiddling while Rome burns” flits across my mind, and I dismiss it, along with any niggle of guilt for daring to be disengaged.