“…When life is passing in the night, in the rushing night
A man, a woman in the night, in the lonely night
Must take a chance that in the light, in tomorrow’s light
They’ll be together, so much in love
Together, so much in love…”
You don’t have to read this, it is a little on the girly corny side… but I want to put some good vibes out there..
A Valentines day post..
The corporate woman has been defined as the ‘liberated woman’ and I see that as the exact opposite. I think she now is more enslaved, maybe even more than the housewife was; because she’s so out of her power, and imitating male power is not female power. ~ Kenny Loggins
I get this unconscious pressure from society to be something. Guilt demons tell me I need to get out and have a real job. I don’t have the friends I use to because most of them are faces on Facebook. I experienced burn out at twenty-nine. Then again after getting my BA and then again I fell flat on my face while trying to get my MA. All the while engaged as a domestic goddess; some call them housewife or domestic engineer! I find it the best place for me. Time and place in relationship to all the possibilities and here I am. I am happy. I don’t think my creativity or smarts need to be exploited in the work force for money. This is the key to my success. I ordained it this way. You can too. I cook, clean, do the taxes…never do oldest son’s physics problems… only if he asks me quantum physics questions: the possibilities of synchronicity and photons in the universe and how this relates to our DNA. Ya I put all my love in a paper cup with one cocky boy years ago. He is a good one too. A real man now. It has not always been smooth sailing either. We both have had our eyes wander… and we have sometimes tried too hard to make each other happy. Too many beers too! Confrontations of course. I still have goals of having a small publishing company, or going out into the world to read my poetry in front of real people. Maybe even showing my art in a small art gallery can still happen again? If the time and place is right and the wind is moving in the right direction…. that is the way I fly. I hope that my children can find the love I have!! I wish this for everyone. Except all the chess books…my man’s books… I don’t wish those books on anyone, well…maybe my siblings in the South of France !!
It is not by chance that I posted a picture of Mae West and a few days later a short essay about George Raft. I did not know the connection between them then, but after some research and reading his biography I came to realize the relationship they had with each other. This is how synchronicity works and for them it is also about a deep love.
May West is overwhelming sexy. She is a classic vexing iconic blonde bombshell. George Raft is the sharp gangster. He is a tough guy with a chaos deep voice, so unique and enduring he defines a generation of look and style. For us they go on doing this with endless images, films and books. The thought of them together as lovers and friends is the enhancement of romance. As a sensitive person I feel this is the story that I am procuring about them.
They both died within days from each other; ending up lying in the same morgue alongside each other. This was not planned by them. It could be just by chance that these two iconic film stars came to lie together like this. I can say from a physical perspective it may be true, but for me chance has no say in this; I know that there is no such thing. Their story and death has meaning to me and says something beautiful about the two of them.
I am reflecting upon a film that is about another great love story. It dreamily reveals my intuitive insight about Mae and George’s love story. It is the film The Ghost and Mrs. Muir. It is about a ghost and living woman who fall in love. It is a humorous and titillating story. The actors are not Mae West and George Raft but what happens at the end of the story is my focus. Mrs. Muir lives her life and at the very end of the film we find her siting in a rocking chair. This is where she dies. In this scene we see the young Captain, the ghost, walk up to her and reach for her hand. He pulls her up. She is now also a ghost. The two of them, youthful and beautiful, are together once more and so a new journey begins when they walk away together.
I envision this same scenario for Mae and George. As I look down I see the old age, sickness and death of Mae and George, but as I look up I see two lovers gazing down then up into each others eyes. They are youthful, beautiful and together again moving onward and beyond. This is what I see in the best desires of my imagination for them.
To look at old age and death as a sad and lonely time is to miss the point of life. Waiting is sometimes the price that true love pays. As we grow older the mind naturally goes inward. Reflections and images become stronger. Mae and George live on in our memories and I would not be surprised, but delighted, if more synchronistic mysteries come forth for me about these love birds. It really is a wonderful thing for me to see. This type of information is not so much linear; But comes in a roundabout imperfect way and it grows as leaves on a tree, or slowly collects as dew on a petal.
This is the lesson they’ve taught me…this is the meaning of this synchronicity about their love.