After a day of you gotta’ be kiddin’ me and please listen to the following menu of options before making your selection, I sat on the couch with one knee up– one arm dangling off it like I could give a damn– and eyeballed the Flyers in a must win game. I eventually slid down the hill of one day I’m gonna’ teach this world a lesson and drifted off to sleep, only to find myself in a dream that was your basic underground roller derby of lion-maned enthusiasts with elbow pads the size of mattresses, staged in the basement of an apartment building being rigged for demolition by former members of the KGB.
The enthusiasts in their Greco-Roman skating outfits were flailing around the short-timer concrete columns and tossing me around like a rag doll. They formed up into some kind of slingshot move that launched me into a turn at speeds well above the posted limit when I awoke to discover Hafiz had pulled the sofa into the middle of the room, and was marching around it with my neighbor’s kindergarten class fanned out all around, all of ‘em blowing like mad into their kazoos and smiling like it was nineteen ninety nine.
[Cue the video for the full effect.]
It dawned on me that I was in the midst of an honest-to-goodness Walls of Jericho reenactment.
What’s happening, Hafiz!?
We’re going to tear down those walls, he replied. I had to read his lips to garner this information because my relocated speakers were on the verge of shaking apart. He pointed at his head and winked. I turned to take in the full room and was caught in the eyes of a young girl, very quick on the uptake, who pointed to her own head, and winked. I was being rescued by a troupe of joyous prodigies. Prodigies of joy.
I turned back to Hafiz. You would do that for me?
He rolled his eyes and gave some kind of pre-arranged signal, because suddenly they were all doing some kind of stomp-stomp clap-clap waddle-waddle in a procession around the room, hips and elbows flyin’. Most of their eyes barely cleared the coffee table.
Hafiz leaned in so he wouldn’t have to yell. It’s our mind trapped in there, too, you know.
Yeah! the children yelled. And we’re bustin’ it out!
Then he began to pass out the sauce pans and the wooden spoons.
Embracing Forever 
I don’t know what you’re smokin’ Michael, but can I have some too?
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Ha! Absolutely. There’s a recipe, Don, which I share gladly of course. Get a butterfly net and some welding goggles. Go out one night and dare the sky to prove it. (You know. It!) Then swing the net wildly so you catch a swoop full of baby stars in your net.
Put them into a glass jar with some spring water and a hint of habanero.
Swish it around.
Chug it.
Write down the first thing you see…
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Exactly, I feel like I’m on an acid trip and my brains are being ripped out to serve as an appetizer. XD
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I have no idea what you’re talking about, Brad.
Sorry.
🙂
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Neither do I! 🙂
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It was a fun trip. It reminded me of times when I sing silly songs to my dogs when no one else is around or the Tao Te Ching group I used to go to where we did the hokey pokey at the end of each group.
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Those sound like good times, JoAnna. Beautiful human divine playful perfect times. What the world needs every day…
Peace!
Michael
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You have probably seen that bumper sticker, JoAnne – “What if the hokey pokey really is what it’s all about?”
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Yes! I love how that bumper sticker tickles my mind out of being so serious.
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This brings me back, gleefully, to Timothy Leary days. 🙂 I was in that dream!
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It must have been a good dream then, Eric! Hey look! We’re in this dream together, too!
Prodigious Joy
Michael
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Well, I read and was obviously intrigued with the literal. Then I read between the lines of a very crafty writer. Here’s to living *the* dream. 🙂
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Amen, brother!
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Tearing the walls down on the way to oneness. Ha! Great metaphor. That part of surrender and losing control doesn’t sound too pleasant in most personal accounts.
I hope things get more quiet again once the walls are down,
Karin
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I assure you in this instance it was quite a joy, Karin. And don’t worry, things will quiet down soon. Hafiz and I are baking cookies… You can’t hold a metal pan and a wooden spoon and eat a cookie all at once… 🙂
Peace
Michael
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Oh yeah! Bust down those walls. All hail the Prodigies of Joy. Can you please send some my way to add to the general mayhem here?!
Alison
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Copy that, A. One shipment of Prodigious Joy en route, containing eighteen children who were born laughing at the world, twenty kazoos, a turn table, a disco ball, a thirty-pack of water guns with belts and holsters, and an ATV.
Enjoy!
Michael
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I’m quite lost for anything remotely intelligent to say, Michael. Put me down as one of the pleasantly stupefied ones, will you? Not that I object to being pleasantly stupefied, lost for thought, outside the hive mind – maybe that’s why I keep coming back here?
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I dare not conjecture as to why you keep coming back, Hariod. I don’t want to jinx it. And pleasantly stupefied hardly seems the worst of possible outcomes, does it? There have been days I would have given most anything to reach such a beachhead. 🙂
Your perspicacity and tolerance are greatly appreciated, my friend.
Michael
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Perfect. Blessings on the day, dear Michael.
In contented stupefaction,
Hariod.
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Yeah, it’s our minds trapped in there too! Call in the prodigies of joy!
Right, Michael, “your basic underground roller derby of lion-maned enthusiasts with elbow pads the size of mattresses, staged in the basement of an apartment building being rigged for demolition by former members of the KGB.” Yeah, I have had that same recurring dream all the time. Hahaha!
I loved this post. So playful, making a great point. You are so good at that. 🙂
Peace, pans and wooden spoons,
Mary
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You have that dream, too!
Thank you for playing along with me… 🙂 I was just a ball of creative good feelings when I sat down at the keyboard for this one… And I love when we catch ourselves in the act of looking at the moment through a limited view– a view not exactly in alignment with unity– and then the bubble is playfully burst… Because why should it be difficult or painful? That is perhaps a question for another day, but certainly it does not always need to be anything but what it is… Sometimes that just having fun!
With a soup pot for a helmet ,and a cookie sheet for a vest, I am a walking noise maker.
May the walls come tumbling down…
Peace
Michael
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Weaving magic with your words again, Michael. What wonderful company you find yourself in.
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Yes, the good company of all beings at once, colliding in a whisper in my ear… I find myself in good company here, too. Grateful for the amazing beings who drop by. Thank you for the kind words, Julia.
Blessings
Michael
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Really?? Stevie Winwood? Wow, must have been caught in the wonderous maelstrom that is your mind too, what a most fun way to start my morning reads…..I adore Stevie, and now I’ve morphed into a little Moody Blues, every good boy deserves favour days, or should I say daze? Anywhoooo…tear down those walls Mr. Michael…..as ole Ronnie said so long ago and break out the pans and spoons…..not the band “spoons” of course, but they’re pretty cool cats. I am bouncing as I speak, er, as I write…..all good happy things.
Peace and follow the leader,
Sending some good lovin’,
K
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Honestly, poor as this may sound, I can’t say I could have picked out Steve Winwood from a line-up. I only remembered this song from hearing it in the movies and it took me some really bizarre search fields to find it! Ha! I have a Spoon album, too. I like this one (though you said Spoons plural didn’t you… oh well… skipping along and around with you!):
Peace and Love my friend
Michael
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Steve is the singer…and I meant to say Spoon, my iPad is a pita….I love music and grew up on sixties and seventies music….oh my, am I showing my age again? Haha….hey, how’s book number two coming? Hope your polishing it like the magic lamp I know it will be, or like the shiny Oscar on the shelf, I know that’s how I treat your first one😊
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So glad you made this. I am giving it a raucous HEY and a firm EVERY DAY!
H.
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