On my recent roadtrip to the Oz that is Berkeley, through the marvelous country that is the north and east bay, I had one of those surreal moments when, sitting on my cushy seat, suspended in the metal cage on wheels that is my automobile, riding on the air in my tires on the macadam and over the bridge suspended over the water, I thought what an interesting existence this is. All those other beings around me, all enveloped in their cars as I was, do they thing about stuff like I do? Or are they just taking it all for granted, like this is all there is, their Escalade or Mercedes, their Civic or VW? Recently, PBS has been doing a program on the nature of our Universe, and, again, looking at it as a holographic projection. I read The Holographic Universe many moons ago, and the idea is not new by any means. One wonders - a projection of what? I like to think it is Universal Mind, the Great Spirit, or just plain old God, who has the Plan. Whatever, as I sat in my Focus, hurling myself forward, ever forward, I felt ever so at home here. This is a new thought process for the cowwoman, who often has felt alien in her own world. And, watching all the other beings swirling about on the freeways, I got ever so grateful to get home with my self and my vehicle all in one piece. Lately, I have run into all kinds of misery out there, in the big bad world. A hairy accident occasioned a feeding frenzy of emergency vehicles as I wended my way to the wilds of west county on Wednesday. PG&E had my route blocked off because of felled trees bisecting their power lines. An ambulance blasted by me later. Yesterday, police cars were all aglow beside the road to Costco. Lots of awful stuff happening out there. So, not complaining about how cold it is in the little yellow house today. And wondering, still.
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