love is blue

Morning Pages, Monday 12/29, influenced directly reading snippets of John Tarrant’s “Bring Me the Rhinocerous:”

“Apparently there are so many things to read I can find nothing to read. Like the sand-raked patterns of the Japanese Garden in Portland. Unexplainable and perfect.

Like the blue jay flying across the Bob Jones Trail and lighting on a branch in a close-by tree. Nothing but blue. The whole universe, blue. No sorrow, no mischevious thinking, no music from the picnic place. No renewing the driver’s license, and feeling so alone. No Starbucks, no crazy people, no picture of my boys in my wallet. No polar cold fronts and no boogie boarding. No oil change. No late or on time for the meditation group. Just blue.

Even the screech of the jay sounds blue. My ears may have turned blue. And that’s just 10 steps on the path. I can’t possibly imagine what the next half hour has planned.

Now, in this place, I hear the 6:11 Surfliner whistle in the distance. While my mind hums “Baby, It’s Cold Outside.” And a permission comes to wonder this – Do blue jays get cold?”