Lost Sailor

The compass card is spinnin'.
The helm is swingin' to and fro.
Ooh, where's the Dog Star?
Ooh, where's the moon?
(Lost Sailor by John Perry Barlow and Bob Weir)

In a post last month, I asked if anyone knew the origin for the phrase Dog Days of Summer. Well, it turns out the origin deals with the Dog Star, Sirius, which appears just before the summer solstace. Mariners have for millenia used the star for navigating, as it is one of the brightest in the sky, except during parts of July when the sun obscures it. When it reappears, it's known as the dog days of summer, usually early August.

And I feel as though I am certainly in the dog daze, a Lost Sailor with my compass spinnin'. Here I'm going to be exactly in between 50 and 60 in a month, I'm married to someone with whom I am not that close and we lead serpate lives, I'm far too active in my community, and when these activities are combined with a substantial increase in the number of responsibilities at work I've been given this summer, things can get pretty hectic. So I am currently finding myself adept at being alone in the midst of a crowd.

I had an outlet. After several years of drifting on a phantom ship too long on phantom seas, I had made a real connection with someone who shared many of my same interests. I was able to relate and be open with this friend in ways I hadn't been able to in quite some time. My mornings were begun with an exchange of email, which frequently was continued through much of the day, packages were exchanged, online fun was engaged occassionally, and venting/advise was frequently in play. I had someone with whom I could relate, escape, engage, debate, trust, teach, learn, and most importantly connect with. But I lost this valuable friend about a week and a half ago and am once again a Lost Sailor, here in the Dog Days of Summer.

At about the same time, it appears my wife has gone a little more whacko on me (my sense it's all part of the menopausal factor), increasing pressures at home. I am attempting, the best I can, to assist her as she deals with her own issues, although I am not sure she is listening. Sometimes it appears that she is more attached to her suffering than to letting it go and moving on.

And about the same time, the job responsibilities were significantly added to. While welcomed, this wasn't timely positive for me with all the other crap going on. With no escapism at home, at work, or on the computer now, I must deal with reality first hand all the time.

Karma is everywhere you're going to be, I guess. Luckily, I have my spiritual practice on which to rely and it seems to be helping a lot.

I never intended to allow this space to be a whine cellar, or venting vehicle. I was going to use it to be punny and erudite, wise and whimsical. This moment's reality supports theory regarding the delusion of expectations.

But you know what? I'm in a relatively good mood today and am going to attempt to keep it without grasping at it. Let's see where that star leads....

Never could read no road map
And I don't know what the weather might do,
But hear that witch wind whinin'
See that Dog Star's shinin',
I've got a feelin' there's no time to lose,
No time to lose!
(Saint of Circumstance by John Perry Barlow and Bob Weir)