Coming home from Vancouver, we took a different ferry port--Horseshoe Bay. It's really beautiful.
This looks like fog on the window, but it's cloud sliding down the side of the mountain.
Passing an island with clouds pressing down on it.
Now I have a story for you. As I'm sure you've figured out, I'm going through some personal stuff this year that I can't talk about. And it got a bit worse maybe two weeks ago, so I've been battling The Depressions.* (Kinda like The Bubons but your heart gets stuffy rather than your nose.)
This weekend when I went to my mum's, The Depressions followed along, like that purple monster in the Weight Watchers ad. The Depressions Monster came again on the ferry ride back.
Sitting on the ferry you usually have one window you can look out (window 1)...
...and another you can see out if you turn backwards (window 2). I kept turning to look out window 2 so I could see the scenery coming up.
At one point I was looking out window 1 and feeling The Depressions slapping me around. I saw a seagull flying over the water, and I guess because it was a bird and water and I was on a boat I thought about the Noah's Ark story. I don't believe in it as a literal story, but when you're going through The Dark Night of the Soul you understand where these myths emerge from.
So I saw this gull and thought about Noah...
I thought about the idea of sending a bird out to find out if the flood was retreating. And I thought about the rainbow, and the promise that God wouldn't ever again destroy the f*ck out of all creation. It's a story about hope. Humans reassuring themselves that even though it sometimes feels like the world is coming to an end, it isn't really. It won't. And I thought--that's what I really, really need right now. Some hope. Any kind of hope. False hope. Snake oil hope. If a used car salesman was selling lemon hope, I would have bought it.
Then I turned again to look out window number 2. It had rained all day, but the sun was peeping out of the clouds as it was setting. I was half looking at the sun on the water, and half thinking about my problem.
Then I turned back to window 1, and there was a rainbow.
I took a photo to prove it to you. You see it there? It was faint and lasted about ten minutes, til the sun went behind the clouds again.
Well this of course made me fricking weep. Not an Ugly Cry, cause I was in a public place--just some discreet swish-swish of the eyes. I appreciated the Universe talking to me so directly. Usually the Universe speaks in code and dense metaphors, but once in awhile it just talks. Like "There's land out there, just wait." Or "This feels like the end of the world. It isn't."
So I will try my best to maintain the Hope thing. Cause, having been given the rare gift of Clear Message, it would seem rude to ignore it.
This calls for a song! This is one of my top 10 songs of all time. This is a song like Stevie Nicks' "Landslide" where the lyrics are beautiful, but you can ignore them because the music is even more beautiful. The delicate guitar picking perfectly conjures up the feeling of being out on the water, and of seeing the sunlight sparkling on the waves. Anyway, it seemed like the right song for the moment. (I have, after all, run aground in a harbor town.)
* See how I'm not internalizing The Depressions? Keeping Skye's post in mind.