ARROWHEAD

For Jeff Rundquist

‘You’re deserving of gifts’, someone said on infamous Facebook upon seeing me fiddle with an image of a Queen carved in bone and picked up on the Lofoten Islands a few years ago. ‘I’ll send you a real Native American arrowhead, if you like.’ I do like this idea. As my dog fell asleep on the couch, under my bejewelled hand, I thought of how I like things of power. The kind filled with appreciation, the appreciation that appreciates in turn. A-PRETIARE, to set a price, is the etymological root of appreciation. Things have a way of coming together when we learn their value.

Before all this, I had a walk with the she-dog Goddess, Frigg, and marvelled at the gift to my iPhone from the Moon, conjunct Jupiter and with Regulus aligned in sight. I came home, sat down, and appreciated the way the light fell between where I was standing and where the Queen of Bones was waiting. I was pleased with my new cover photo on Facebook of a spearing moon, in wait of an arrowhead. And what do you know? It came ever so fast already. Someone was riding the right waves.

Often the greatest wisdom is in knowing how to wait. If you wait consciously, you show devotion to a form of surrender that's hard to comprehend the logical way. I think the universe likes that.

It’s almost 3 AM, and I’m buried into reading astrological charts from a flat angle. Rigor, precision, method, rules, and the renaissance masters are my friends. What the unexpected arrowhead points to is the manifestation of holding together: The magic, the magi, the marvel.

About a month after I wrote this, the arrowhead made its arrival.
I ended up writing a post about it here.