I’m late for work when a dyke cop pulls me over, calls me Sir. 92 in a 70. “Sir, you’re driving with an expired license,” she says. Tells me how serious, how expensive that mistake is. I can’t find my vehicle’s registration, buried in a pile of Canadian Tire invoices.
She walks back to her patrol car. I’m frightened she’ll dig up the unpaid parking tickets. Money stress makes me panic. I’ve never had much of it, and have lost everything many times. Taped to my sun visor I have photographs of my Nana and my white rabbit. My two angels. I look to them and pray.
Dyke cop lets me off with a warning, but escorts me to Service Ontario with her fuckin' lights on. I’m just an airhead. It’s not a crime. The woman working the desk looks me in the eyes and says, “Oh, I’m sorry sweetheart. Don’t worry, I’ll get you all taken care of.” Angel. Tears sting my eyes. It’s been a scary month. I’ve felt like I did when I was a child. She takes an ugly new official photo of me where I look sleepy, greasy.
My nervous system is aggressively reacting as I pull into the Dairy Queen parking lot. I hate cops. They bring out the violence in me. And I’m gonna be so late. I’ve never been late. A girl dressed in all black smoking by the rusty trucks lets me bum a cigarette. “Thanks. Rough start to the day,” I explain. “You’re ok, babe.” She touches my shoulder. Angel. She’s got the word warrior tattooed above her eyebrow. We smoke.
I put the ice cream cake on the passenger seat and drive to the job. As the manager, I make note of everyone’s birthday, buy them cakes and cards. We all deserve cake for surviving. Arthur Russell’s “That’s Us / Wild Combination” comes on shuffle. Angel. I think of Spud, the young man I wanted to grow old and weird with. He’s far away now.
I drive past a school. A farm. Finally, I get to work. One of my coworkers is falling apart, crying because her boyfriend lied. We stand in the cold. I hold her, she’s scared and small like a fawn. June sends me a voice memo, tells me that if she was that young girl alone with a broken heart in a foreign country, my energy would make her feel safe. And I feel seen. And I feel like an angel.
The elder smashes a mug. She’s not lucid today, in fight mode. She doesn’t know she has dementia, is old and has no one. She’s yelling. And I’m thinking, how many fuckin’ times have I wished for just enough coin so I could just run away? But I stay with her. I’m with her often. She’s country, and more people would see what I see if she were a man. I put out her fires. I make us tea and fix her software issue as she settles back into her chair, starting to shine like she used to. Angel.
I drive home and lay on the floor with the bunnies, my sweet affectionate angels. Pretty Boy hops onto my lap and, for the first time ever, he lays down there instead of just sitting. I strip out of my work clothes. Our new shower head feels heavenly. Sean’s mom, visiting from Newfoundland for the weekend, is in the kitchen boiling vegetables and salt beef. Angel.
Last time I wrote to you from the pit. I can’t fight my way out of that place, I have to surrender, keep living by breathing in, out. I breathe deeper and find peace within. Healing isn’t about feeling fewer negative emotions. It’s about feeling all emotions with less fear.
Today, I’m in a flowstate, my ocean of reality, resting at the surface because I’ve welcomed it there. I’m back in the stream. You and I are two streams, yes! Flowing together toward one home. Angels guiding us. I’m focused on the angels.
Love, Ocean Michael Moon
Edited by my sis, June Moon
Tarot Pull: The Moon
“You can not explain “art” by examining the material used to create it. You will soon learn to laugh again – because the difference between your limited “ego” self and your “true” Self is so ridiculous. Once you have traveled the path and obtained wisdom and understanding – you will know precisely what to do with yourself and you will proceed to do it. If you are brave enough to hang on to your dream for yourself – it will manifest as your subconscious makes the necessary physical changes during your “sleep” state – while your waking mind is out of the way. Become neutral – flow with what pulls you – give your inner, secret goal some attention every single day and your mind will respond as you continue to repeat your desires for happiness and joy.” - Crystal Clear Reflections Tarot Divinations
Soundtrack: Sade - Flow
Out of the pit, back on the path, bitch. One foot in front of the other.