I have been standing on the edge staring into the darkness.
I have been up against the wall, thinking: Wait for it… Wait for it…
What does a train wreck sound like? Do you hear it all at once? or is it a symphonic that unfolds in your deepest dreams, little by little, over a lifetime? The sound of everything breaking.
There is something I can’t look at. It’s right there. I can’t see it.
What is this thing with money? What IS money? Where does it come from? What does it do? Why can’t I look at it? My attention slides off like twin-poled magnets. Can’t. Touch. That.
I asked for help with this. I asked for help seeing. And for repairing whatever it is that appears to be broken.
The wolf came right away, dark and shaggy, loping across the meadow on stealth-paws. She carries all her magnetism in her jaws so that it’s hard to pull focus to her eyes. She can watch you and watch you and all you can do is think of her teeth and tongue and the saliva warmth of her breath. This is not quite as scary as it sounds.
She wanted me to follow her, and so I did. We ran back through the meadow. I was happy because I was going to get help. There was so much authority in the way she moved through the grass, I was so grateful that she had come to help me, I almost laughed.
And then I stepped in a noose. The trap triggered, snagged me by the ankle and hoisted me up like the tarot’s hanged man. Everything fell out of my pockets. My skirt opened like an umbrella blossom. Petals rained down to the ground. I spun slowly. Ridiculous.
The wolf stopped, turned and returned to sit facing me, eye to eye, her breath playing through the fall of my hair. “I’m sorry,” I said. I thought she would be put out by my silliness. I thought she would brook no delay. But there was none of that in her face.
“It’s ok,” she said, “I can wait.”
And all at once I understood that she was smiling at me.