Dead Tired in York

Something happened this morning, and I’m tired.

I’m going to sit down in York for the weekend. It’s a lovely city by the way: Small, walkable, energentic, creative, attractive. Everything I’d look for, though it may be a bit too affluent/yuppie for my specific taste (but I could be pursuaded).

Edinburgh’s Festival is brilliant. The city teams with art, but book way in advance for a bed (unless you plan to sleep during the day on a bus or train).

Dude. I’m Wiped. Out

I’ m in the York Youth Hotel, inside the city walls. One of the reasons I decided to stay another night: great mattress. I’m in the mood to appreciate a good mattress right now. If I don’t get some energy back the next ten days are going to be a trial. Like walking over that mountain in the south of Lewis (Outer Hebredes).

I have encountered this phenomenon over and over and over again. I’m not into it much myself, so I didn’t recognize it for a deeper movement. What’s on Your iGod? (“Your answer to the religious homogeny now clogging the nation like cosmic oatmeal? DIY divinity”) in the San Francisco Chronicle Online (Aug 26 2005), is an interesting and inspiring declaration.

There is this palpable sea change. There is this deep simmering electrical pulse. There is the return of the divine feminine, the flip of the cosmic coin, what the mystics and the seers call the Great Awakening, happening within the next decade or so (for those who are ready). Or maybe it’s just a giant and wise recoil away from bogus notions of a warmongering homophobic paternalistic God. Whatever.