Surrender into compassion

Multiple births;
Dreams of something else.
Anything else.

So I got back here, Skanda Vale, to a stupor of internal unrest, like a child whose ice cream just toppled over. Dreams of yesterday, or, the downs of a few days ago, became my total sense of being. There is nothing anymore but for those moments a few days ago on the down by Brading town. Like being lovestruck again, it becomes my sense of everything.

And yet, the universe sometimes orchestrates everything so wonderfully. Like one of those movies where everything unbelievably clicks into place. But this is the story of life outside of a movie – everything actually is a fairytale.
I get picked up from a busy roundabout on the Carmarthen bypass, a few minutes walk from the railway station. The girl lives in Llanpumsaint, the nearest village to here, and she’s a devotee of Krishna, but says that she has been separated from him and that some lifetimes ago she was dancing with Krishna. She tells me of a manifestation of Ganesh in a nearby park. She takes me to it, as it’s kind of en-route. And there he is. Ganesh, exquisitely calm and living, formed into the basal trunk of a tree that’s recently been lopped. I tell her that we celebrate a festival to Ganesh at Skanda Vale every year, and it begins in two days time. She’s amazed by it all. She’s sociophobic, and I imagine hasn’t shared such a long conversation in a long time.

I get to the Shakti puja because she picked me up, and because the connecting train waited for our train to arrive, and because I felt an inclination to hitch this time. And the puja is immense, but my belly spinning, whirling almost.
And this continues.

Even though I see maybe where I shall be in some time in the future, I also feel very strongly where I am right now, and it’s an incredible place to be (in the right now).


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