Back to earth (and beneath)
I’ve been pot-holing this week. Exploring the cracks, crevices, fissures and trenches where glaciers, rivers and oceans pulse, slowly.
If I’ve been spinning with my head in infinity for the last while, this is the week where I came back to reality with both a bump and then, for one alarming dreamsleep moment, a slipslide beneath the tide encased in a sealed train carriage.
Dreams tell me things. How I am doing now. How I did in the past. What I need to watch for in the future.
Trouble is, I don’t often know what they were telling me, except in the thin shadow of a very long and highly blurry hindsight.