September 5, 2017...
I cannot correct my sleep patterns.
No matter how I try, I am living my life six hours ahead of the central standard time clock. I have just returned from my first trip to Ireland ~ actually, my first trip anywhere abroad ~ and I can't seem to undo the time difference within my own metabolic clock. At 1:15 a.m., I am bright-eyed, ready to explore. At 4:00 p.m., the yawning starts. Last night, I forced myself to stay up until 9:00 p.m., which would have been 3:00 a.m. in Ireland. Thankfully, I slept late this morning. I made it all the way to 3:45 a.m.
So, at this early hour, I decided to get out of bed and write. My first thought was to document each day in Ireland before I forgot the small details. Then I thought about chronicling the journey of 5,000 miles and the lessons learned along the way. I even pondered citing all the reasons I haven't written anything in two years and somehow address that disregard by enumerating the events of the last two weeks.
And yet one word crept into the dense fog of my brain: Conjure. I looked up synonyms in the thesaurus for a better word. According to the thesaurus, conjure has two specific meanings: verb - to implore, to appeal, to beg, to beseech, to pray, to importune, to adjure, to crave and verb - to cast a spell, to invoke, to bewitch, to summon, to charm, to enchant, to perform magic.
Along with the modified sleeping behavior, my mind is also out of step. Almost like I'm dancing, but I can't direct the rhythmic movements from my mind to my feet. For the past two days, I have experienced irregular pulses, disjointed thought processes, and a disruption of the normal ebb and flow. Not only can I not sleep on cue, I literally can't think straight. I can only hope this post has some coherence once it is written.
My daughter and I began the trip of a lifetime to Ireland on Tuesday, August 22, 2017. I lugged my heavy laptop all over Ireland, as I planned to post a blog each day of the trip. I determined to upload pictures to Instagram and Facebook on a daily basis. I even had this ridiculous notion of keeping a travel journal. With one or two Facebook exceptions, I documented nothing. I could not relinquish the fleeting present long enough to waste precious time recording the experience. In other words, I was too busy savoring the moment to save the moment.
I wanted to relish the sights, scents, and sounds of Ireland, not just remember. However, I do recall one particular moment with perfect clarity. My daughter was driving along the scenic roads ~ sheep on both sides and in the middle. She looked at me on the second day of the trip and said, "I can't believe this is a normal Thursday afternoon, and I am driving around Ireland on the wrong side of the road with my mom. You did this, Mom. You conjured every bit of this, and it came to pass. No matter how it all came to be ~ who planned it, who paid for it, who played a part in it ~ you summoned this miracle trip from nothing. With your little Google Map Man, you visualized yourself traveling these roads, seeing these sights, being in this place, and here you are. It is just the most surreal thing I have ever experienced ~ how it all came into being."
That word conjure kept entering my mind throughout the trip ~ as I walked on the beach in Ardmore, or along Grafton Street in Dublin, or through the woods of Ashford Castle with a Harris Hawk on my gloved hand. Even if I tried to dismiss it, I knew it was true, and I knew it wasn't the first time.
The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines conjure in two ways: (transitive verb) to charge or entreat earnestly or solemnly, to summon by invocation or incantation as to contrive or imagine, to bring to mind, and (intransitive verb) to summon a devil or spirit by incantation or invocation, to practice magical arts, to use a conjurer's tricks, and to treat and regard as important ~ as to conjure with. The two definitions are important in this short English lesson. Transitive verbs always require an object. Transitive verbs transfer the action. For example, she emptied the cup. Intransitive verbs don't need an object. For example, she winked. The action stands alone.
This area of explanation is important. Most people associate the word conjure with voodoo or divination, or rituals, or even magic spells. I do not practice trickery, or exorcism, or sorcery of any kind. I am not a magician or a seer or a psychic or a witch, even though I have been called one by the man who mowed (past tense) my yard. Despite that unfortunate name-calling, I do not conjure (intransitive); however, I do conjure (transitive). "You conjured this trip, Mom."
I do believe in a transitive faith. Faith requires a transfer of action, such as to move a mountain. I charge or entreat earnestly. I summon by invocation. I contrive or imagine and bring to mind. I have even been known to importune and implore. And I always require an object to transfer the action. I think the phrase "the object of my affection" must be part of the process. For example...
Wisteria Hill. I am not sure if I first saw the small piece of property six or seven years ago; however, I do remember clearly what I felt ~ love, at first sight, instant and pure. I knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that I would own it one day. Almost immediately, I began to make inquiries within the small community where we reside. I discovered that the property belonged to an out-of-state owner who planned to one day build a small retirement cabin at the top of the high hill and would never (EVER) sell...as long as he lived. I obtained his name and telephone number, contacted him about the property, and asked him if he would ever consider selling. With a resounding NO, he confirmed every negative report I received. In what could possibly be recorded as that shortest telephone conversation in my lifetime, he dashed all my hopes and dreams in thirty seconds.
At this point, I will attempt to explain a manifestation that has marked my life more than once. I hope that I do not lose any of the fascination, immediacy, or assurance during the telling. When I finished that telephone conversation, I KNEW that he would never build a cabin on that property. I was sure ~ absolutely sure. A strong alteration or transposition had moved within me like a tectonic shift in the earth. Once this change in position occurred, it could not be redirected. My course was set. I do not completely comprehend the process. Did I conjure the events that followed? I am not sure. I almost believe that I follow the events before they happen. As always, patience plays a part.
For the next few years, I continued to hear rumors about the hilltop property. I heard that the property had been sold to the highway department for the tall mound of dirt. I heard that the neighbor's son had purchased the property and that the seller's son now owned the property. Every tidbit of gossip always led to another negative report.
On March 21, 2016, at 2:00 p.m., my husband and I bought that piece of property. The owner did not sell the five acres. He died in February 2016, and his wife sold the property the following month. His son placed a FOR SALE sign in front of the tract of land on a Sunday afternoon. I had to make an unplanned trip to the neighboring town. When I drove past the property en route to my destination, the sign wasn't there. On my way home ~ fifteen minutes later ~ the sign was posted.
I was absolutely giddy with excitement! My apologies to Stephen King, who detests the use of adverbs and adjectives in sentences; however, there are not sufficient words in the entirety of the English language to describe my physical reaction. I ran through the door flailing my arms and shouting incoherently. "David! There's a sign! It's for sale! Get up, get up! Hurry! We have to call the number! It was just posted! I'll tell you on the way! We have to be quick before anyone else sees the sign!"
David was leaned back so far in his recliner, I had a sudden urge to tip it over. He made no quick motion but continued an infernal questioning that was chewing up precious minutes. Finally, I screamed, "Just get up! We have to go pull up the sign! Come on! NOW!" That last NOW did the trick. My husband and I called immediately, made an offer, and purchased the property over the phone. As far as I know, no one else saw the sign which still remains in my possession.
What I remember most about the entire process, from the moment I saw the sign until the moment I walked out of the bank, was the suffusion of energy that enveloped me...even more than a small child on Christmas Eve. I felt such an alarming furor of anticipation and total abandonment of decorum ~ an excitable frivolity that is not easily duplicated. I felt the same intense elation from head to toe the night my daughter called me and said, "Mom, it's done! We are going to Ireland!" I did not understand why, until I considered the heady effect of conjuring.
January 5, 2018
To conjure creates some illogical, yet potent force. I recently returned from another trip which did not affect my sleep patterns but did require some altitude adjustments. I, along with my husband and son, traveled across the United States by way of Louisiana, Texas, and New Mexico to Fort Collins, Colorado for Christmas. Of course, traveling with Inspector Gadget, I was pretty much required to download an altitude app. Somewhere near the New Mexico-Colorado state line, I checked our altitude and the reading was 7853.80 feet. Looking out the back seat window, I viewed the snowcaps of the Rocky Mountains still hundreds of miles away! At that moment, I just blurted out ~ without forethought ~ God of the Universe, You cannot be too big for me! I challenge You to be as Great and Awesome as You want to be, and I will receive it all!
With a child-like lilt in his voice, my husband turned around and said, "Okay...?" He and Matt looked at each other and laughed out loud. As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt a neurological unsteadiness ~ vertigo born out of vitality! I felt a conjuring faith, a total abandonment of telluric control, an irrepressible desire to engage, an intoxicating wave of gratefulness, an earnest entreaty to participate fully with the unseen and abundant, and a deliberate charge to the Giver to choose me as the Recipient.
Those Great Rocky Mountains seemed to move all around us during that one-week trip...to the north, south, east, and west, to the right and left, both near and far. At some times, the mountains were close enough to touch, and at other times, the mountain range was too far away to view. I believe we all follow that same ambivalent course in life. For me, Ireland is now as close as the scent of lemongrass and bergamot; it is also 5,000 miles away. Ireland's mighty cliffs are still standing where they have always stood, as are the majestic Rocky Mountains. And yet, with a bit of persistent conjuring and unspoken certainty, I can still move those mountains.
August 2, 2018
Today, I am working at a small-town library ~ a quiet diversion from the large municipal library that consumes my days. Today, I am actually afforded time to think, to ponder, to conjure. On August 30, 2012, I pasted a black and white copy of a house in My Last Best Nest journal. The house plan is entitled Banning Court, and I no longer have to look at a small copied picture in a journal. I own the actual Southern Living house plans. The not-yet-constructed home has been the object of my affection for six years. Six years! So unbelievable! But not to me...
That matchless magic of which I am so familiar is crystallizing. A conjuring is at work inside me, assuming the distinct form of the house, developing into something tangible with walls and windows, having all the required and desired elements, falling into perfect place from somewhere unknown and unseen. A patient work in answer to an earnest entreat and to which understanding is known through perception rather than reasoning ~ a proof that is observed to exist or to happen, yet whose cause or explanation is in question. It is not an elusive phantom or incomparable phenomenon. It is the unseen evidence and the hoped-for substance placed in resolute reserve for those of us who conjure.
Dianne ;)
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