"I've got a bad case of the 3:00 a.m. guilts – you know, when you lie in bed wide awake and replay all those things you didn't do right? Because, as we all know, nothing solves insomnia like a nice warm glass of regret, depression and self-loathing." –D.D. Barant
It’s an eerie, thick, inky, under a blanket darkness. My bedroom was completely engulfed in that silent, sensory depriving blackness. A hands out in front of you, feel your way to the door, surreal early morning. The only indication that I made it to the kitchen is a tiny amber light from some appliance that was left plugged into the wall. I got my bearings and slid over to the patio door and looked out into the yard not expecting to see much with no moon and heavy, atmospheric thick cloud cover. I guess I was hoping the outside world would tell me if I was awake or is this a dream?
Through the leafless forest of trees, far off on a distant hill, I did see those reassuring tiny red flashing lights from a cell phone tower. I hated that tower when they erected it. That thing disrupted my pristine view of 1000s of acres of woodland forest. In the early years of cell phones we were the last to get those monstrosities uglying up the landscape. Cripes, I still remember 4 party lines out here. Oh, but there is convenience to be had and money to be made. I have to admit, having my own cell phone did save my ass once. I make the decision to stay up for awhile, and pull the bedroom door closed so as not to wake my sleeping hubster who shares my bed as I feel my way through the kitchen.
I pushed the button on a cabinet light over the coffee maker, but instead of coffee I put on the kettle for a cup of tea at this hour. There is enough ambient light from the kitchen that I wonder into the living room. Bright orange, hot coals stare out through through the glass in the door of the woodstove. Looks like a couple chunks of wood is in order to keep it going until morning.
The tea water is hot. I pour my cup of tea, shut off the light over the coffee pot and carefully make my way into the living room where the dancing flames in the woodstove beckon with warmth. I sit in a comfy easy chair with my tea and think about all the folks down south living though probably the worse snowstorm they have ever lived through. My mind asks how many of those people do you think were prepared? I hope you are safe.
The warm glow and orange flickering become hypnotic. As I stared into the flames, it seemed to take control of my awareness. I willingly submitted to letting my mind take my imagination by the hand and lead it where it wanted it to go.
Left unsupervised now, my imagination directs my attention to weather reports making the rounds in videos and on TV of the natural change in the jet stream creating this havoc down in the midsection of the country, with help from those climate/weather manipulators from outside of nature, my mind interjects. Cold, cold temperatures all the way into Florida creating misery for the citrus growers. More news of culling of meat and egg chickens, due to bird flu supposedly. My brain file flashes talking heads on a TV announcing recalls of many different food items, some because of a simple label misprint. There was no wording on the label that the butter had milk in it, was a ridiculous excuse the talking head reiterated. Someone who had a sensitivity to milk could eat it and have a reaction without the correct warning. She read that line as seriously as a heart attack. How did she do that without laughing, my hypnotic state of imagination wanted to know?
California, the bread basket of the country is about to be engulfed in yet another round of raging fire. Not to take it lightly, there is undoubtedly tons of suffering with the fire, but the Pacific Palisades destruction ensures all evidence of trafficking will most certainly be lost to the fire monster. All this is so very suspicious to my 3 a.m. brain. Does Jennifer Aniston, Beyonce, Oprah,and others have homes there? Just asking. My hypnotic logical self says they are hiding evidence and killing off our food supply as our wealthy overlords move underground to safety which will leave the rest of us to fight over scraps?
Taking a sip of tea my imagination wasn’t ready to let me go just yet, we had to explore the political side of all things. I hate politics so it must want me to take notice of something to make me fall into this open brain file. Flashing headlines for the last couple of days news cycles has been about Trump wanting to acquire Greenland, Panama, and talk of making Canada the fifty first state. Looking out over the edge of that file my brain had left open for my imagination, I looked at it from another perspective, Trump is a 5D chess player after all. But then. . .
Oh gawd! I thought, could Trump be the Antichrist religious scholars write about? Is he Americas knight in shinning armor only to go nuts with power and further enslave the world? The Democrats acquiesced this election far to easily. What do they know and what is their plan? No! My paranoid self argued, not Trump! Or they know and planned Trumps return won’t matter. They have a contingency plan in place. Their plan can’t be stopped now. He is free to do what he will, destruction of America and it’s values is already far too advanced to be stopped even with the whole Trump team on board. This dark cloudy imagination creation is now got me tied up in knots with a nasty helpless feeling. Is the world doomed at the hands of a few evil doers? Can the Trump team really not stop this? Do they even want too?
I was reading a book before I went to sleep last night called The Cyclops Initiative, where a three letter agency within the United States planned something similar to the Designated Survivor series with Kevin Bacon. In the book the three letter agency created unthinkable chaos in the U.S. which would dissolve the current administration. The leaders of the three letter agency would bring in a new government, their government, their way. The use of technology the rest of us are not privy to was used for nefarious deeds in the book. These people lost their soul to this technology for power and profit. In real life I suspect, if true today, the reasons would be a bit more gruesome than that of the book. It was a library book, after all.
That must be it, the book I was reading. I shake off the effects of the warmth and glow of the woodstove, swallow the last of my tea, get up and head to the kitchen. I put my quietly cup in the sink and lay back next to hubby. The outdoors barely lit through the windows with still heavy but now gray ambiance. The promise of day light was on its way. The helpless feeling remained within my Psyche. Would daylight rescue me? I will need some balance of positive aspects of life on this planet. I did see a young Bobcat sitting in the yard yesterday. I got the impression it was stalking a rabbit. We have a ton of rabbits everywhere here leaving bunny prints in the snow. Cats have a tale to tell in Indian folklore. Maybe I’ll go take a look and see what it has to say. It has got to be better than the dreary darkness that was implanted in my head this early morning.
When I got out of bed the second time, the dark shadows of helplessness I had been feeling had been banished back into its portal of gloom at the sun making a brilliant entrance of streaming ribbons of gold and red peaking through the bare trees. The lesson I gathered from the early morning foray was this time in our American experiment we need to be ready for whatever comes our way. It will be different this time,the unknown vs. the known. It will be nothing even close to what Grandma and Grandpa went through you can be sure of that. Helplessness be damned! Here’s to adventure. Are you ready?
Thoughts? Comment below. Thanks.