2012年3月7日 Hammer in my sand

I was walking around in my mind, listening to Hammer in the Sand*. 

Standing in the sun I thought about the path I was taking emotionally and spiritually now that I'm a Jew. I walked a little bit further in my mind, although physically I was motioning to sit on a bench away from the buildings and people.

A sweet taste of tobacco hit my lips, and breathed the smoke into my mouth. Holding it, then releasing it slowly. The smoke was as listless as landscape. Blue silhouettes of mountains in front of the sun could be seen, like I saw with Hood this morning. Only by the peak could I tell it was a mountain, and not the rolling hills. 

I could hear my frustration and then I heard nothing. I watched the sand shift around slowly like the smoke. The sand disappeared and so did the music I heard in my mind.

More music came into view and I wanted to lay down on the bench and take the sun as Spectral Mornings* came into view. I pulled my MP3 player out and played it. I loved the sunlight but missed the clouds, and although I tried substituting the absence of clouds with a chain of smoke, nothing changed. Nor did I expect it to all at once.

I prayed for the rain to come and hoped that I could drink from it. It fascinates me that that the terrible weather helps with growth. All sunshine and no rain... Leads to a desert. I left my hammer in the sand before going back into the building. When I reflected on my soul I realized I had to make my own hammers, I couldn't borrow anymore. 

Before opening the door to the building I breathed out, and the smoke was gone. My head just slightly clearer than before, and so were the questions.


*By Steve Hackett