David Ian's Home

They settled a bit more, felt another wave of, what? more than sleepiness - more like a transition, traveling again on this Christmas Eve, traveling in place…

 

Together they regained just enough consciousness to recognize their new strange companions as they had moved as one to this enclosure - - and surety of their sharing…

 

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“Sorry I growled - not awake - and quite sore… I remember now - we found our way to this bench in all of the mayhem.”

 

“No worries - as I recall, I did bark a bit as we raced into this enclosure and to this spot.  Whew, it is dark - what time is it?

 

“Still not midnight, but hey, between the fog and the smoke…. oh, yeah - that’s what started all of the fuss - are we still marooned on this island?”

 

“I think so - marooned on Christmas Eve - but, you know, as we whispered just before we dozed off - I don’t really think anything that bad happened - and after all, this is not a bad place to spend such a great holiday.”

 

“Not bad if you don’t mind being cut off from all contact and travel with the outside world.  But, yes, no body got hurt, and least not in the explosion - but someone almost got killed in that mob.”

 

“Funny how in all of that, this little group of us didn’t participate in that - something inside us made us react differently…”

 

“Especially you and me - hey, Merry Christmas - and yes not a bad way to spend this special day, I mean evening - maybe the whole night.”

 

“Whew the whole night - unreal- actually kind of nice, you know?”

 

“Strangely, I do - I mean, it’s so bizarre - it’s really quite freeing - especially now - an imposed break in our routines.”

 

They sat quiet and still for a bit - the island had really settled down - still no word on when they could get off, but yes strangely, and wonderfully, they both thought, this is perfect for them, and this beautiful spot that they both love was extra serene right now.”

 

He looked at her - “you know - this lil group found its’ way to this enclosure, and it is marvelous with the burner and and all of the sparkles and twinkling lights all around, but you and I wound up here together - I think you appreciate that is this really wonderful in the midst of all everything.”

 

She leaned against him, sighed contentedly, “I know exactly - I was overwhelmed with fears and worries - and right now I feel, finally to share them…”

 

They look at each other, then together out into the Christmas Eve, taking in the surreal mixture of sensations.

 

He whispered “It doesn’t seem real, does it?”

 

“Not at all” she very softly answered “the opposite of empty and lonely, even though it is so very dark and quiet”

 

“I know - a very full feeling, like the air is full of spirits.”

 

“oooh… Bob Cratchet - full of Christmas Ghosts…”

 

“Faeries and sprights and other hidden things…”

 

“Oddly comforting, isn’t it?”

 

“Incredibly - like some kind of soothing tonic - look at us falling asleep with all of this strangeness going on - there is a lot of craziness going on”

 

“I feel so very safe right here - so full of feelings - facing some major league things right now - it’s what lead me to come here…”

 

“I know exactly what you mean - me, too - I think we were just ready to face these big things in our lives - and the trigger of the explosions and reactions drew us together…”

 

They settled a bit more, felt another wave of, what?  more than sleepiness - more like a transition, traveling again on this Christmas Eve, traveling in place…

 

“Especially you and me - hey, Merry Christmas - and yes not a bad way to spend this special day, I mean evening - maybe the whole night.”

 

“Sorry I growled - not awake - and quite sore… I remember now - we found our way to this bench in all of the mayhem.”

 

“No worries - as I recall, I did bark a bit as we raced into this enclosure and to this spot.  Whew, it is dark - what time is it?

 

“Still not midnight, but hey, between the fog and the smoke…. oh, yeah - that’s what started all of the fuss - are we still marooned on this island?”

 

“I think so - marooned on Christmas Eve - but, you know, as we whispered just before we dozed off - I don’t really think anything that bad happened - and after all, this is not a bad place to spend such a great holiday.”

 

“Not bad if you don’t mind being cut off from all contact and travel with the outside world.  But, yes, no body got hurt, and least not in the explosion - but someone almost got killed in that mob.”

 

“Funny how in all of that, this little group of us didn’t participate in that - something inside us made us react differently…”

 

“Especially you and me - hey, Merry Christmas - and yes not a bad way to spend this special day, I mean evening - maybe the whole night.”

 

“Whew the whole night - unreal- actually kind of nice, you know?”

 

“Strangely, I do - I mean, it’s so bizarre - it’s really quite freeing - especially now - an impose break in our routines.”

 

They sat quiet and still for a bit - the island had really settled down - still no word on when they could get off, but yes strangely, and wonderfully, they both thought, this is perfect for them, and this beautiful spot that they both love was extra serene right now.”

 

He looked at her - “you know - this lil group found its’ way to this enclosure, and it is marvelous with the burner and and all of the sparkles and twinkling lights all around, but you and I wound up here together - I think you appreciate that is this really wonderful in the midst of all everything.”

 

She leaned against him, sighed contentedly, I know exactly - I was overwhelmed with fears and worries - and right now I feel, finally to share them…”

“Especially you and me - hey, Merry Christmas - and yes not a bad way to spend this special day…”

 

“Sorry I growled - not awake - and quite sore… I remember now - we found our way to this bench in all of the mayhem.”

 

“No worries - as I recall, I did bark a bit as we raced into this enclosure and to this spot.  Whew, it is dark - what time is it?

 

“Still not noon, but hey, between the fog and the smoke…. oh, yeah - that’s what started all of the fuss - are we still marooned on this island?”

 

“I think so - marooned on Christmas Eve - but, you know, as we whispered just before we dozed off - I don’t really think anything that bad happened - and after all, this is not a bad place to spend such a great holiday.”

 

“Not bad if you don’t mind being cut off from all contact and travel with the outside world.  But, yes, no body got hurt, and least not in the explosion - but someone almost got killed in that mob.”

 

“Funny how in all of that, this little group of us didn’t participate in that - something inside us made us react differently…”

 

“Especially you and me - hey, Merry Christmas - and yes not a bad way to spend this special day…”

the almighty pi warriors called to duty upon the extreme of extreme of Solstice and Christmas at their very height - a grande emergence is upon us…

Heed my loves - a true mob they have become - all their fears stoked by the ever-present opportunists - see the trampling, feel their pain but see, in the very center, that odd lot standing very strong and still - from all walks they are, and on most days just fellow travelers passing thru this isle, set upon their separate paths - but at this very moment of extreme crisis, in ultimate counterpoint of counterpoint - braving fearful elevated strength, emanating the purest and deepest of inner el voices - quiet, serenity, grace - drawn and bound together despite their temporal uniquenesses - seizing not the extremes but the very nexus of the impending calamity - join as one almighty elevated spirit to stand their ground, at once rooted and aloft in the midst of it all - display for all around them that better part of each of them - the almighty pi warriors called to duty upon the extreme of extreme of Solstice and Christmas at their very height - a grande emergence is upon us…

 

<>

 

...these masters, they absorb all times of all Christmastides...

They, the most spiritual of the spirits , seemingly magical, these masters, they absorb all times of all Christmastides - they are infinite - even they take note of the shocks emanating on this Christmas eve morning - they take in and comfort their emissaries and other missives - and send them flurrying on their way to give life to the ether -  even to them these eruptions of light and concussive waves are out of the realm of this most holy of times.

 

Their vantage is ever unique, sensing all a once - they instinctively know the dangers of these new extremes are surely part of the buildup of such during these times - but they also understand the corresponding new depths of opportunity and hope that arise - and challenge them to elevate to make the most - so they do, harboring the threat, but also reach ever more to appreciate the magnificence of this day.

But today, in this most special morning on the eve on the most special morning of Christmas, the aspects swirling in of dimensions beyond comprehension ...

Look in awe upon this scene of pure beauty - unreal, it seems, as the flood of holy sensations and notes of kindly voices of forms beyond our easy recognition - all of the loving touches upon our inner most selves are, indeed from another realm of our world.  With the lights of this holy season sparkling, as we do, in this sacred interlude of pre-dawn - oh how precious is this landscape, already magical, but now with singing and horns and strings touching our hearts - each vessel that is now converging with a bounty of souls full of promise - oh loves, such a breakwater this Christmas surely is…

 

A most spiritual time is Christmastide, with the elsprights in a full ethereal chorus of notes on the Eve of the birth of our Savior.  Ever and again is the vital need for emergence of the elstate in all of it’s appearances, however fleeting - all the more magical and precious for the starkness of it’s instrinsic brevity in  counterbalancing contrast to the eternal continuity of the opposing of the base. 

 

As the watercraft skim and plough through the waves, adding spray and splash to the mist rising off the sea, the everyday routine is wholly transformed, launching apparitions into the ether just as as the travelers are launched upon the shores.

 

Already a mixing place of life across many aspects, as the purposes and bounds vary across the range of humanity embarking upon the great city, together compressed into the quaint isle stepping stone.

 

But today, in this most special morning on the eve on the most special morning of Christmas, the aspects swirling in of dimensions beyond comprehension - even the most duty bound and closest to the ground in their straight line dedication to their understanding norm, even they feel the feelings that can’t missed, of deepest remembrance, so vast and primeval and ancient as to through them off their intense devoted course.

 

Tis one of those moments in the sphere of happenings where all boundaries are crossed, where all paths weave together - each of us must surely feel it, each in our own separate way - this height of the Christmas pause is at hand - look at each of us, each disparate spirit in an infinite collage of forms - and awesome are the voices that are now sharing in chorus… 

 

On this particular Christmas Eve morn, all are touched by these notes of elevated spirits that are being woven - the ethereal spiders are up with the sunrise, darting and weaving, lovingly stinging in a purely holy invasion of all souls - but to be sure, the depth of their welcome varies with the entirety of range of readiness of the elspright in each and every living form.

 

A wondrous march of faeries arriving upon this doorstep to the vast metropolis - a wonder more how many sense the true expanse of Ghosts launching deepest notes of inner voices in a collective Carol as this Eve of Christmas commences… 

 

In the lovely vale that is the subject of our tale, one especially targeted by the masters for it’s critical nexus of threat and opportunity - and therefore impact upon the urgent need of this age at the brink - a marvelous assembly of equally lovely souls have already been joined - mated in the truest sense of extreme oneness of knowing - as one they are in awe that is unfolding before them. 

 

the true expanse of Ghosts launching deepest notes of inner voices in a collective Carol as this Eve of Christmas commences…

Look upon this scene of pure beauty - the lights of this holy season sparkling - like we do - at this sacred interlude of pre-dawn - oh how precious this landscape, already surreal with special voices, with horns and strings, with lovely twinkling of magical spirits - each vessel converging with a bounty of souls full of promise - oh loves, such a breakwater this Christmas surely is…

 

A most spiritual time is Christmastide, with the elsprights in a full ethereal chorus of notes on the Eve of the birth of our Savior.  Ever and again is the vital need for emergence of the elstate in all of it’s appearances, however fleeting - all the more magical and precious for the starkness of it’s instrinsic brevity in  counterbalancing contrast to the eternal continuity of the opposing of the base. 

 

Tis one of those moments in the sphere of happenings where all boundaries are crossed, where all paths weave together - each of us must surely feel it, each in our own separate way - this height of the Christmas pause is at hand - look at each of us, each disparate spirit in an infinite collage of forms - and awesome are the voices that are now sharing in chorus… 

 

On this particular Christmas Eve morn, all are touched by these notes of elevated spirits that are being woven - the ethereal spiders are up with the sunrise, darting and weaving, lovingly stinging in a purely holy invasion of all souls - but to be sure, the depth of their welcome varies with the entirety of range of readiness of the elspright in each and every living form.

 

A wondrous march of faeries arriving upon this doorstep to the vast metropolis - a wonder more how many sense the true expanse of Ghosts launching deepest notes of inner voices in a collective Carol as this Eve of Christmas commences… 

 

In the lovely vale that is the subject of our tale, one especially targeted by the masters for it’s critical nexus of threat and opportunity - and therefore impact upon the urgent need of this age at the brink - a marvelous assembly of equally lovely souls have already been joined - mated in the truest sense of extreme oneness of knowing - as one they are in awe that is unfolding before them. 

 

A most spiritual time is Christmastide, with the elsprights in a full ethereal chorus of notes on the Eve of the birth of our Savior...

A most spiritual time is Christmastide, with the elsprights in a full ethereal chorus of notes on the Eve of the birth of our Savior.   Ever and again is the vital need for emergence of the elstate in all of it’s appearances, however fleeting - all the more magical and precious for the starkness of it’s instrinsic brevity in  counterbalancing contrast to the eternal continuity of the opposing of the base.  

 

On this particular Christmas Eve morn, all are touched by these notes of elevated spirits that are being woven - the ethereal spiders are up with the sunrise, darting and weaving, lovingly stinging in a purely holy invasion of all souls - but to be sure, the depth of their welcome varies with the entirety of range of readiness of the elspright in each and every living form.

 

In the lovely vale that is the subject of our tale, one especially targeted by the masters for it’s critical nexus of threat and opportunity - and therefore impact upon the urgent need of this age at the brink - a marvelous assembly of equally lovely souls have already been joined - mated in the truest sense of extreme oneness of knowing - as one they are in awe that is unfolding before them. 

 

oh well, it’s Christmas, I’ll make the most of this gift…

He found himself buffeted and swept along, like surfing the waves and then rocked by a big one, lifted and tossed, he just naturally let go and road the current - a wealth of thoughts, voices, sensations filled him - he just let it happen - a magical quality on this Christmas Eve morning - already the height of spiritual this day and tomorrow and this whole holy time - like the hazy crazy beach where I love to find myself; like being thrown upon the sand by magnificent waves, beyond my power to control - magical indeed these emergences of mysteries that put us in our place.

 

Now finding himself in the void from which the mob scrambled in their reaction, he took it all in - yes indeed, something dire was happening with the Gatehouse, but from this perched vantage point it seem quite clear to him that it really wasn’t catastrophic - unless anyone planned on getting somewhere anytime soon - oh well, it’s Christmas, I’ll make the most of this gift…

he wouldn’t allow himself to get caught up in the unruliness of yet another Christmas disruption - of this he was completely confident.

He was in his standard position at the very from of this nasty mob, leaning against the gate, primed to  hustle to the office at an even more than normal to beat the distractions that are sure to come with Christmas Eve.  He prided himself on his work ethic and dedication to the tasks that really matter, and as usual was totally absorbed in his todo’s, successfully blocking out these lazy revelers, and so was extremely blind-sided by the blast and frenzy that seems to erupt just as he charged forward.

 

What now, what nonsense, I don’t have time for anything else - ran his thoughts as he redoubled his effort to not get side-tracked - and so was rewarded by almost going down as the rush of wind of whatever godforsaken force suddenly threw him to the side.  He barely caught himself from going down - all of my core exercises and my other diligences once again keep me above the rest - and on he stumbled just in time to avoid getting run over by the crazy panic.

 

Only problem, his vision was totally blocked - by what, smoke? fireworks? - whose idea was this?  And he was momentarily overcome with it a most uncharacteristic feeling of being disoriented - I’m never disoriented!  Using his well honed natural - superior - instincts, he chose a direction and barreled ahead - away from the rabble and rattle - he would beat the others to a place of sanctuary and be on his way - decisiveness is the key to survive and shrive! - he wouldn’t allow himself to get caught up in the unruliness of yet another Christmas disruption - of this he was completely confident.