The Fallen~Sparrow~Hawk

Puer Eaternis                      Edinburgh       February 18, 2002

The only thing I would want to return to London for is Mark. I asked myself this morning I believed he loved me and given the amount of tears shed and the pain of separation I think he is suffering. There, of course, is still no promise that he won’t get back with Debbie. Should she be there then it will be extremely difficult to communicate with him, as it is now with his parents around. Maybe he will be worn out, or play the game. I do get vexed about his lack of ability to make choices. He is crippled by his niceness: passive aggressive.

Yesterday I awoke in Lillian’s room after a night of fitful sleep. Lillian belongs to the Theosophical Society in Edinburgh and she is trying, against internal opposition, to influence the ‘black’ energy that is, apparently, this city. Lillian became quite animated after watching a Discovery Channel James Burke on the Greenhouse effect and the future. She is in her late 40s and trained as an actress. She is recognisable as a Puer Eternis, eternal child, as is Martin, who has, over the years been unable to resist the urge to salvage every computer monitor thrown out by households or offices,- which has the effect of turning what would be a large Leith flat into a shrine for dead monitors, printers and modems. We moved boxes and furniture to accommodate furniture arriving from his deceased mothers’ house in London. The furniture is arriving today!!!!

It is refreshing to discuss spirituality and matters of the land. Lillian talked of the heavy energy around since September 11^th when two passenger planes were flown into the World Trade Centre killing thousands of people. I remember hearing that writers are at a loss as to what to write about in the wake of the atrocity; Reality has upstaged fiction.

I wondered, when I left if I was running away, hiding from responsibilities. As I stay here I begin to realise this is a much needed rest. A gentling of my being.

Although there is a lot of dreaming and lightness of being among the folk here; a gentle procrastination and sometimes an excuse for procrastination, they are children. Everything from house arranging to an encounter is viewed with cosmic significance, rightly or wrongly. There are a lot of people who would pooh-pooh what is perceived as airy-fairy, yet it is healthy play. Yet, like with children, there is a perceived authority against which one must rebel for it is the reason why, ’the world is going the way it is’. Capitalism, Multi-nationals; the English; imperialism; Conspiracies, Freemasons, Burocracy, all short-sighted compared to the vision of the inspired creative who is denied a look-in; fairy folk.

I trust that with each encounter I will be fed. Fed not with food but with fodder for the imagination. With the tales of journey men and women and with tales edged with bitterness at the non-concretisation of dreams, of the bitterness of children growing old visibly and wearied of the faith in the world. World-weary. Yet there will be those whose cynical rant or tantrum will demonstrate what is wrong and will illuminate in true play how to play.