We've got a wave in the air

I've been a little scarce here of late, it wasn't intentional. I've been very busy getting ready for Viable Paradise and doing lots of stuff around the house. Last night was the only day I really spent too much time on the Wii (oh Wii Boxing, how I love you, actually the tennis, boxing and golf are my favs so far, I might have to get an actual Golf game so I get a variety of play).

I've been writing, but not much has come out. I have about three pages of handwritten copy and notes (sometimes instead of writing down the words I just get down the thought process). There's a big fear out there lurking. I'm in the downhill run and you'd think it would be easier as I made it past the duldrums of the middle. Well, as someone once told me, there's two ways down the mountain; the easy way and the way that lets you live at the bottom.

Fall is here. The Equanox is upon us. I love Fall. The nights cool and the blood quickens. The scent of burning leaves fills the spaces between trees and gropes out into the yard to lure in the unsuspecting. It's a time where the veil draws thin and the trickster grows restless (such as for some reason my Macs' universal spellchecker doesn't want to work at the moment).

Fall is also a time of internal self-recrimination. I go over (and over and over again) past stupidities and slights against people, revisit roads not taken, and attempt to both improve and change. However, it mostly is a function of the big D. It's a way to beat myself down. So far, however, even knowing that I haven't been able to either stop myself or forgive myself for some of my stupidities and revisit the worst ones like a classic rock station plays "Turn the Page." And so, I strive not to be as stupid as I have been. I look for opportunities to attone for past grievences. And I hide my thoughts in shame. The gremlins gibber in their dark caves of memory and I die in front of the synaptic firing-squad only to pop back up like a cartoon coyote, ready for the next depredation.

But the leaves turn from their green camoflague to brilliant fire. The scent of humus pours like ground fog. Children wear masks to hide their true souls from those who've come to take them away. Some fail. Twighlight is the new noon, and the Moon draws her curtain of stars over the world. People light candles and stoke their heart's fire. It's a time of being alive. This time it becomes a conscious choice instead of the easy life of Spring and Summer. It's the time of raging against the night.