Notes on Opening the Vault of Nine&Sixty

A few thoughts on the Casa Argentita, getting to the end of this bizarre decade, and miscellaneous tidings.  

§ First. . . perhaps an apology: I was sad to have to cancel the House-Cooling party announced for July 6-13.  That 'slowlebration' simply couldn't be realized in the current time(health-money)space continuum.  La Casita is presently about half-furnished, and certain key items (pillows?) are in short supply.  (Yes, you could fight me for the two I have, but I will win.)

Maybe next year.  

§§ Second. . . remember last year's rather animated search for the retreat guardian (/research assistant)?  Upon unpacking the first boxes in the Casita Arrrggg(entita), it became clear that this was not a minor consideration. From DayOne I collected a list of things that went sprawling into the abyss (souped-up by the April 8 solar eclipse, no doubt).  I won't vex my readers with the play-by-play, but it was a solid 13 weeks of explosions, burning plastics, tree-slaying, pop-up nightclubs, water/electricity/internet outages, etc. (Some, such as the riochuelo that runs through my kitchen whenever it rains, are kind of charming, I'll give you that.)

Anyway, until the actual onset of year-69 there seemed to be no getting ahead of it.  Hence the need for a retreat guardian.  As I explained to my candidates in 2023, "It's not that complicated, no love or admiration required. Just be someone who likes me, and trusts that I might figure out what I'm doing."  Being retreat guardian simply meant walking through the house once or twice during the closed retreat cycle (1-3 days).  Oh, and maybe mentioning to the Subtles that I am to be left alone.  

A few weeks ago I was reminded how useful that deflection can be. Yes, yes, I can rub my tummy and pat my head at the same time - that is, patrol a boundary AND do the practices. But my last night in Texas included a 350-mile drive, witnessing (and unsuccessfully preventing) a kidnapping,  a 2-hour snooze in the van, conveying all of the van-storage details to  my very patient friends in Elgin, then a dash to San Antonio with three bags that somehow had grown heavier overnight. 

Queue up the kid sister.  Over the years I have discovered that in Susanity's company a good bit of the Onslaught starts to whistle, examine its Florsheims and wander away. (She's tougher than she looks.)  While together at the airport, it felt as though we were surrounded by a phalanx of Kurukulle Buddhas (with Their rose-tipped arrows).  Nothing could get through. 

However once she left my side, down came the ramparts.  

Roughhousing (literally, eh?) continued through the New Moon in Cancer on July 5.  That lunar transit happened to fall exactly on my sidereal birthday, conjunct asteroid Hades (per J. Demboski). And, more happily, conjunct fixed star Sirius -- which heralds the annual inundation of the Nile.  

Thus, 'under&in' was followed by the surge of clarity that one should expect at Solar Return.  Huzzah. 

§§§ Third. . . so now that my personal New Year is underway,  some of the more arrant intrusions have disappeared or taken a break.  I cannot say that the search for home-base is concluded here, but there's enough coffee, cloudcover and cricket song for the next few . . . what? hours? months? who knows?

And 'time' is being leavened and stretched to salvage the absconded 13-weeks.  

Sidebar: the rhythm of attention we call 'time.'  Like most of us, my creative-life has coursed along beneath a working-life.  A while back I learned to crib a Jacobin month of 3 ten-day weeks into my Gregorian count. Of course the French and Roman calendars had to mesh, as convincing my employer or my kids' school that today was nonidi --the ninth day of the week-- was beyond my powers of persuasion. 

Now, sans children or regular employers, time loiters but is somehow still cramped in the 168 hour-cycle we call a 'week' (I suspect this has something to do with how we have all agreed to occupy it).  So as I shepherd this flock of days, I'm reverting to the Franco-tibetan (yes, the Ts have it too) calendar for a while.

Nota Bene: 

                                                                                                      Now see there?  Doesn't that feel better?

§§§§ Fourth . . . is from the street: Walking back to the Casita the other day, I am stopped by a neighbor - small round person, long black hair with a milky streak running through it.  She was wearing a brightly-colored skirt, very nice white sneakers and an apron.  I'd guess she was in her sixties, with smooth skin and a lively demeanor.  She was crossing the street from one side as I crossed from the other. 

We kind of met in the middle, did that thing that pre-friends do: 

"Oye! I love your skirt!"
"Aiii, thank you! And where did that green hair come from? I can tell you're not from around here! [chortles]" 
"You think?  Yes, no, I'm not.  But look! your hair is so beautiful, thick as a waterfall;  and with all that caramela que brilla [candyshine] running through it!  Mine is green with envy!" (much chortling ensues)
"Well, I would dye my hair, but my mother won't let me..." 

At that I went from chortle to guffah, while she just twinkled with the precision of her own joke.  

I love this town. And people's openness here is worthy of all the respect I can extend. 

†††††Fifth. . .

While the Slowlebration may be delayed until 2025, over the next few months I am inviting my pals from here and there to come spend a few days at the Casita.  Since the Lunarium is not to be missed, I am thinking of opening my home a couple of days before the Full Moon each month (starting in August). Nothing too crazy, this houselette comfortably holds 2-3 guests at a time. 

If you would like to receive an invitation, let me know soon and I'll respond with a lunar calendar attached.  During August & September there may be cloud-cover (rainy season).  And my guests may be invited to learn (or review) the Yoga of the Purified Senses while here - but that is entirely optional.  

Mostly I want to share this little jewel of a home while I have it.  Early next year I hope to sublease it for 2 months while I am in Europe, so this would give someone a chance to come give it a spin (as only my friends can do...)   

[If you receive an invitation and we have not met physically, it is because you have turned up in my dreamworld at some point.  As we spend a good half of each circadian in some form of Oneiros (we go in and out of REM all 'day'), and I have my ADL (Advanced Dreamer's License), that intro is as good as the sunny-side-out we call 'waking-life.'] 

Invitations (and short survey) will be in your mailbox by July 21 (1st day of Leo!).  

Hasta entonces, 
Until then, 

E
writing for 
M