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Reich 4.0

A Weird Place

I am in a weird place. I’ve been here before. I think, several times: once, when I left my bf of seven years and once, last February when I lost my last job. It’s a place of holding. It’s a Wait and See place – a place where I cannot see into the future. A place of anticipation – a place where I know that I must remain calm at because if I don’t, the dragonflies/people will leave. And the people are necessary for this place to turn into a new home.

What will this home look like? I think there will be more dragonflies/people in it, but I won’t care about them the way I have in the past. In comparison, I’ll be indifferent. That is to say, they’ll have more freedom to be idiosyncratic, irrational and well, human. Maybe they will be louder in my life and maybe they will leave messes in my living room.

They won’t have to be Christian, they won’t have to follow the same political parties or causes, they won’t have to dress the same as me or work in the same field; hell, they won’t even have to speak the same language as me.

These people will flutter around filling my space with beauty and – I hate to use this word (so I won’t) - curiosity, cynosure, freak, marvel, miracle, nonpareil, oddity, phenomenon, portent, prodigy, rara avis, rarity, sensation, sight, spectacle, stunner, wonderment, and act of God.(1) It will be singularly and plurally, awful*!

These people: human, alive, flesh, bone and blood, different colours, different styles, long hair, short hair, fat, thin, smart, not so smart, fast, slow, big feet, small feet, happy, sad… Young, old. Rich, poor. City folk, country folk. Dreamers, practical folk. Sinners, saints… they will all crowd into my new house and fill it with colour, in every dimension and fill my mind with light that pours into my body like sun through a stained glass window in a country church.

These people will be friends; that is to say, I will not care if they don’t invite me to their parties and will enjoy it if they do. That is to say, that I won’t care if they don’t like me, and will enjoy it if and when they do. I will learn to love my neighbour, even if they are Americans and even if their software leaves nasty red lines under my spelling of the word “neighbour”. I’ll even love the British!

So these people will float in and out of my house and life like ghosts; dragonflies that will alight on my finger but rarely stay. (Suppose I could coat it with freshly killed "small flying insects"(2) but is it worth the trapping, hunting and dressing when there’s so many of them? And yes, so many, many, many of them of quality? No, better to just position myself by their nests.)

Corporeal ghosts. Cells floating through a great big something called Planet. Called Universe. Called God.

* “full of awe; reverential.” (


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