For a few years now, I’ve been wanting to relocate. I’ve been wanting to move the hell out of here, and move onwards, outwards. Preferably westwards, coast wards. North a bit, and/or south. For some reason, east will not do. East of here, that is. The direction of east bothers me; literally and physically.
There are all kinds of practical and annoying reasons why this move hasn't taken place yet; financial, the “golden handcuffs,” the job market, my spouse, -- and yet every year the pull, the need to get the hell out of here grows stronger by the month, week, some days, by the damn minute.
Starry Night: A Natural Part
I’ve written of my friend ‘Lola’ and her family on the Oregon coast before here on Trickster’s Realm. (Technically about fifteen miles from the water, but that’s nothing!) They live on a beautiful and peaceful ten acres or so by a river. We went to visit them the other day. That night, I was already in bed, but still awake. My husband comes in to tell me how magnificent the sky was. Tired, but curious, I got up and we stood out on the deck, listening to the sounds of the river, while looking up at the night sky. My god! Away from city lights --far away -- we could see the amazing sky.
I haven’t been camping in years, and forgot how magnificent the sky can look, away from city lights. We stood out there for a long time, just looking up. The Milky Way was visible, we saw shooting stars, we saw a glittering, brilliant astounding sight of stars. Then something happened: no, not that, not a UFO. That’s the point. Starting out, as always, in hopes of seeing something in way of a flying saucer or two, I realized as we stood there that a sighting would only be the icing on the cake. (Although the “shooting stars” were so incredibly rapid in their movements -- and there were two of them side by side -- moving in a zig zag fashion and moving up but I’m not going there. It was all so damn fast; my husband didn’t notice it. I just said it was a shooting star, and be done with it.) The sky that night was so immensely amazing that it was literally exhilarating. Who needed UFOs when you had all that? UFOs just seemed a natural, obvious part of that stupendous sky. They belonged there, wherever they were, as much as anything else. As much as all of us.
The next day, Lola and I go into the “city.” I wanted to look at some real estate listings, she suggested she introduce me to her real estate agent. We go in, sit in his office. After introductions, he says to me “Regan Lee, I know you, I know that name...” I tell him what we’re looking for; a place with space for a studio, and room for our library. “I also write,” I said and he says, again, “I know you,” and Lola pipes up “She writes for UFO magazine.” He says, excited, “I knew I knew that name!” and turns his computer screen to us. It’s on UFO Digest, a site he checks every day, where he had just been reading one of my articles two minutes before we walked in!
Naturally, we all took that as a sign that we will moving to the coast, everything is as it should be and is moving along.
Whether or not we end up moving to that area, somewhere else, or not all (the latter cannot happen, I won’t let it!) that night, looking up at the rich gorgeous moving sky, was a reminder of our connection to “out there” as well as here on earth. Myths, lore, religions, art, love and song all talk of that connection. Frivolously or on a deeper level, the awareness that we’re a part of that is an amazing thing. And to be reminded of that the other night was something I'm grateful for.