While walking the dog to pick some violets, I also go through a few ritual steps. For instance, every time I get to a crossroad, I stop and watch. Usually there’s always something there that makes me think. But this is not the kind of thinking that I associate with being an intellectual – Lord only knows, I get enough of that already on the job that pays for my bills – but the kind of thinking that has my head completely in the service of my senses.

Being quite tired of the lying industry that the academia has become, with academics thinking and writing for big publishers whose voice of commonsense equals that of sales, I have to admit that I like to give myself the opportunity to eat my own head, as it were, and feel what it’s like to have it as part of my gut. In other words, the more of my senses that I can activate, the better. Usually this takes care of my frustration with seeing how little I enjoy writing anything on dictation and thus doing good business for the university. You know, the kind of academic business as usual, where the only question that we ever pose as thinkers is this one, also business as usual: ‘What’s in it for me?’ ‘How about living the moronic life,’ I always want to retort, but I keep such opinions to myself.

So, yes, the crossroads. Today a blue thing was lying in the grass, on top of the mound around which cars usually swing. I go to the top, while becoming invisible – I can spare myself the speculations from the drivers – and have a closer look. A glove. A blue glove. A rubber glove. I get even closer and read the writing on it. Blue Star, it says. Oh, how appropriate. Cosmic brightness – I have to admit that I love everything that counters the moronic life, especially the one that has us all talk the so-called rational talk, or the talk that then transforms into moronic books that other morons can endorse.

So here’s the connection I made. The Blue Star is that thing in the universe that the astronomers identify with the giant star. The Blue Giant Star often turns into a supernova. There’s a beautiful Blue Star right in the constellation of Orion, and flanking what the astronomers also call the Witch Head, which is a reflection nebula. What bliss to be able to turn your head and actually spot it. The Rigel Star area, formally known as the IC 2118, has enough light in it to illuminate the best of magic there is. A sorcerous encounter between a glove and a dog-walk at the crossroads. I have to admit that I love my life and some knowledge that’s in it.

Back home, I asked the cards about it – and for whatever reason, I thought I’d ask the cards I made myself in the image of the Lenormand Oracle. The cards I call A Helium Poet – must be all that cosmic gas and dust that’s in my eye. The eye in the belly, as my head was deliberately placed there for the purpose of the walk, for the purpose of the shamanic experience: To be out in nature and pay attention. Listen and watch.

Says the Helium Poet: ‘Ask the Moon about climbing to the Star to touch it.’

‘How difficult is the Mountain?’ I furthermore asked.

‘As difficult as your ability to surrender your Heart. Take a dive with the Fish,’ the Helium Poet intimates, ‘and you’ll find your Heart right there where it actually is. In the love of this: the earth and its sky.’

May you all shine brightly.


Note on the deck: A Helium Poet, Lenormand Cards, Camelia Elias (30 cards) and Witta Kiessling Jensen (6 cards), 2013.

§ Via Taroflexions 


Camelia said…

March 25, 2014 at 8:41 pm (Edit)
Oh, how you inspire me with your posts, Camelia! Ever since I started reading your blog, I’ve been paying more atention to my surroundings and finding magic that was lost to my eyes and my senses! You’re my role model! Wish every young woman like me could find your writings and reach deep inside themselves! Thank you…

Camelia Elias
March 25, 2014 at 9:03 pm (Edit)
You’re welcome, Carolina. And thank you for your kind words. Living life should be simple and beautiful, not complicated and ugly, which is what we tend to do when we don’t pay attention.

March 25, 2014 at 11:35 pm (Edit)
This is lovely.

Camelia Elias
March 26, 2014 at 12:16 am (Edit)
Thanks, Aidan. I’m glad you enjoyed it. Credit goes to Frigg. She makes me do the rounds.

March 26, 2014 at 12:18 am (Edit)
I understand…with four dogs, I do a lot of walking meditation/play!

Camelia Elias
March 26, 2014 at 1:04 am (Edit)
Speaking of play. I went back to the place to rescue the glove. It was turned, as if to receive the sky. So, I took it with me. I’ve appended a picture of it.

Cat Dubh
March 26, 2014 at 6:46 am (Edit)
Connection clicked into place,
once more,
as I read the above………….
with gratitude, Camelia Elias……………

Camelia Elias
March 26, 2014 at 10:56 am (Edit)
That’s not surprising, and thanks. People who live by paying attention to their surroundings often have that feeling, of being connected. An animist who doesn’t feel superior to dogs and nature is able to enjoy the subtle realities that are there, and which enable us to step out of the square and linear life. For me, applying this philosophy to life makes me understand that there’s more out there than the expectations from others to always do what’s appropriate, and according to rules that are not my own. The rules of culture are hardly ever the most honest, and I don’t have time for lying.

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