Long hikes, longer drives, and quiet nights in the 4Runner provide ample space for the mind to reflect.

A portion from the spotlight on Rocky Mountain National Park from my recent project.

A portion from the spotlight on Rocky Mountain National Park from my recent project.

I'm thinking lately of the Hermit, number nine in the major arcana of the Tarot. He's a man walking backward into the future, holding a lamp in front of his face, yet behind his trajectory, to better see where he has been; using the past to inform his next steps.

I think about how I got here. Why I am here, doing this thing that I'm doing. Some of my reasons have shown themselves to be projections that I or someone else made upon me a long time ago. Some hold strong. Some just mean different things now than they did.

There is a crystal hanging from my rear view mirror that scatters spectra around my body while I hurtle down the road.

When I was staying in Mill Valley I took breaks to lay in the hammock next to my work desk, and often I stared at the complex orientation of the reflections in the window to my right, trying to break them down to understand exactly what's being reflected by what. I made a diagram in my journal. I was trying to imagine how I could possibly paint such a thing, or how on earth it passes as making sense to my brain until I stop to think about it.

This is par for the course of my mental life, staring at convoluted reflections, mirror images, projections, and trying to break them down into understandable parts so that I might be able to paint a clearer picture of what's happening for myself or perhaps someone else.

Some connections are mirrors. We can only love the other as much as we love ourselves. In this way, I have loved completely. I have also looked away in anger, or run scared. If the other becomes an object of fear it is important to ask what I am avoiding.  If I'm the object of fear it's not because I'm frightening, but my eyes are the mirrors that they can't bear to look into.

Compassion and a wide open heart can stop the ricochet, as if it's that easy.

If mirrors are completely aligned and facing each other, nothing exists outside that reflected world. A paneled or convex mirror takes in the entirety of the scene. It has periphery, it sees with perspective. How can I bend. How can I break into panels so that I can put my own existence into context with the rest of the world.