Lion and Magic Boy

I love thunderstorms. I remember the first time I ever really experienced them, when at the age of 19 I moved from the Bay Area of northern California where I grew up (and where thunderstorms are about as common as snow) to the mountains of Arizona (who knew! mountains! and snow! in Arizona!). That first summer, the thunderstorms rolled in day after day, coming up over the mountain into the valley where I lived, then rolling through and out the other side. They’d come on fast and furious, and I’d dash out to the porch where our homemade wind chimes hung, made from a bunch of old keys, now jangly in the sudden wind, and I’d stand out there and soak up the LIFE that came along with the storms. I never felt so alive as when I stood out there in a storm, the rain pouring down in buckets and the lightning crashing everywhere, I mean, does it get more REAL than that?

We’re having a thunderstorm now, here in Pennsylvania where I live. In the summer they visit regularly, usually in the evening. Today was ripe all day for a break to the oppressive humidity, the air expectant and ready to burst, so I’m not surprised about the storm.

I just wish it hadn’t come just as I was headed out on my bike.

However! That’s better than if I had already been out when the storm started, so I can look at it that way. Riding like a drowned cat isn’t all that fun, although I find it interesting that biking up in Whistler not too long ago was enjoyable even in the rain. In fact, the rain got in my eyes and was thrown into my face by my front wheel and still I found the whole experience wonderful, now why is that??

I’m still savoring moments from my trip to Vancouver, large ones and small ones. Like how wonderful it was to have someone cook for me. Not out of service or obligation, but out of love and creation, the way I look at preparing food. And every day, too! I made my Strollerderby people crazy with all the talk of the succulent salmon and prawns and, well, everything.

But mostly the trip was about connecting with Matthew. Oh. I haven’t exactly mentioned Matthew yet, have I? My bad. But…can you fault me for keeping all this wonderfulness inside where I can savor it slowly?

I’ve actually known Matthew for years, but only online until recently. I’ve felt his energy before in doing some channeling for him a few times as part of the online communities we’re both a part of, and I knew Matthew to be a kind and warm person, but when we met in April there was an immediate connection, an immediate sense of belonging and acceptance and openness, a sense of what I always thought was possible but somehow had always been unattainable in a relationship. So clearly it had to be checked out further, and I’m happy to report that the reality exceeded even my high expectations.

So, that’s not very specific, is it? Oh well, you’ll have to keep reading then. I most assuredly will mention him again. And Matthew is a big part of something I’ve been hoping to do months even before we met, this collaborative book project, and it’s all come together so perfectly that I have to imagine it was planned somehow, on some level.

And right now I am all self-congratulatory for bringing all this wonderfulness into my life.