A little gardening.

You know when you go into a garden shop and look at all the packs of seeds?

Well, there’s a problem with them, not for the pro, but for the novice gardener who plans to strew the seeds in their garden and hope for the best.

The packs only show what the adult plant looks like, but not the seedling.

So a few weeks after scattering the seeds, the novice decides it’s time to do some more weeding as there’s lots of strange bits of green coming up, they rip it all out and wonder why they never have flowers.

Wolfie Rankin.

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The God Head

There’s a story about an American Man who was beaten by some thugs one night, and woke after days in hospital to find that he saw the beauty in complex equations, which previously, he had no no understanding.

Then the other, who I only vaguely recall, who was in a car accident, then later discovered that he had an ability to turn wood into incredible works of art.

I feel that I have something which might be like that.

I’m not sure how to classify Wolfie, initially I thought he was a spirit and sought some indication from Native American religions, though I didn’t go too deeply into it.

But these days I think he is more of a higher level of consciousness.

Wise and ancient, and all the little clichès, the core of Wolfie sits in his temple like a Hindu God, at least that’s how I see him, at least the truest form of what he is. 

Reflective, thoughtful, careful, patient, cheeky.

While I am liable to rush into something, Wolfie suggests in his own gentle way that perhaps I ought to relax and put more thought into it first. He’s very often right, I have saved myself time and money in taking his councel.

I know Wolfie is me, but there’s a problem, I feel that there is a separation between us which prevents me from reaching my full potential, some sort of barrier in my mind which I can neither identify, nor cross.

Years ago a musician, after hearing my story, suggested mushrooms, the kind not sold at Coles. He thought that a trip might connect the dots. While intrigued, nothing came of it. There is a frightening element to it, I’ve never taken drugs and I’ve never been drunk.

And yet, I still think about it, what if it’s the light at the end of the tunnel?

Hypnosis is another consideration, would it help me connect without the use of drugs, can I even be hypnotised anyway?

Once in a while I’ve had dreams where I felt close to getting somewhere, only for the dream to change, or me to wake too soon.

Somewhere in my head I am chained up, and it manifests in my life, where I am stuck at home, in this life, unable to take the road out of here.

But how I’ll get from here to there, I don’t know.

Wolfie Rankin.