Last night I dreamed I returned to the United Kingdom. I always meant to go back there, to live there for a time once more as I did when I was at University.
The last time I visited, I took my fourteen year old daughter. That was thirteen years ago. We enjoyed such an adventure. There was no plan. We traipsed around England, mostly staying in London, exploring freely.
London had changed a bit since my school days, but not so much as to lose that ambience of long endurance and that incredible air of fable. Time still seemed in long supply, and I believed I would return again. I did not factor in the world going quite so utterly mad.
My dream revealed a withered and dying United Kingdom, a divided and broken land, its culture and people utterly vanquished. South Kensington, the place I had lived as a student, was lined with crucified bodies, heads on spikes. Masked men wearing black robes patrolled the streets, heavily armed. In my dream, they turned to carrion birds to feed on the ashes of the land they conquered. It was horrifying. Perhaps, a symptom of playing too many video games and reading too much dystopian fantasy.
I woke up weeping for its demise more than I would for my country of birth. I rolled out of bed in the night’s darkest hours before dawn and immediately took to my computer to seek plane reservations that I might return there before my visions could come to fruition.
I believed I was awake in a bright morning to find my reservations well in place. I packed and gathered my passport and arrived in London. No, I had not awaken from my nightmare. The UK was still there, but it felt dead, like a movie set more than the real place. I told myself it was the hour of the day, and entered the tube station at Piccadilly Circus.
People packed into the platform and that gave me comfort. Here they all were, citizens of London, waiting for their train. The train came and true to nature, the people queued up to enter as a mechanized and polite voice reminded them.
“Mind the gap.”
No one did. By the time I boarded the train, all of those people disappeared into the gap which for me was a simple step and for them, an unscalable chasm. Then I awoke to my life once more, and I wrote this blog post. Let this only be a nightmare. Please, world, mind the gap.
The last card for the drawing of 2019 is the Knight of Wands. This heralds creative success. But my, if that is so, November’s Strength put a high price on it.
October is my favorite month of the year. I love Autumn and in the South, the fall tends to come late, usually around mid-October. I love the crisp autumn air. Nothing makes me feel more alive than the dying year.
In September, I had thought briefly she might want to keep working here in the South. The cost of living is cheaper. She can make quite a good living here, but she misses New York already. So I am going to appreciate the bit of extra time we get together. I know Frankie has appreciated having two humans to boss around. I can’t believe there are only two months remaining in this year. I thought I would be further along with things. I really did.
Game of Thrones came to an end in May 2019. Lots of fans were disappointed. The final season felt rushed to a conclusion that satisfied few. However, for myself, I think that it came to an end was what tore me up. Game of Thrones is undoubtable the greatest television show so far. It drew in millions of viewers, invested them in the complex and difficult characters that spoke so loudly to our humanity. While I will miss the show, miss trying to figure out what happens next, I so look forward the George RR Martin finishing his books. Let’s see which one of us gets there first. Shall we?
It is already May. And here is the 5th card of my 2018 New Year’s Eve drawing.
I am marching through 2019 on the draw of 12 cards. In February, it was the Chariot. That pushed me further into my journey. My book, my body, my mentality, all of it pushed forward. Although, parts of the journey have proved to be painful. Still, I persevered. Now it is March.
I want to move back to the UK more than I can even express if only to be able to go to Anfield and watch my favorite footballers. Frankie is torn. She reminds me that my roots are still here.
I did a tarot drawing for 2019 on New Year’s Eve in 2018 as a way to concentrate on the upcoming year. In review, January we saw the Magician – a sign of new beginnings.
