Scott Hillsman

Good morning. This is your friendly reminder that we may exist as streams of data within a universe-wide simulation. Sorry, whatever grief you experienced was real though. Carried like gravy over chicken and dumplings: a grey and heavy burden, so it’s a lot to ponder, and we may forget at times that certain colors are illusions, like the rainforest frog’s blueness, even though its poison unravels certain bytes of information, we carry on, as I know you seek your own transformation; in a blue pill, red pill, gold ash powder or whatever, even when the goddamn pill dispenser is broken again, we break down the vending machines and start over again, so then, I hope you enjoy the coffee and have a nice day.

Torches in the mist,

-Guide us-

to the small stores

On highways lost.

Click clack.

Credit card transactions,

From one account, numbers roll

Into the mists of this other world.

Where

These fish swim in the water.

And

These fish swim in the sea.

Sun always rising.

We walked these paths before.

Tracks in mud and stone.

I keep hearing people say “tribalism will destroy us, everyone needs to unify.” Unify for what? To benefit the agendas of those in power, those people who could care less about you and I?

The truth is, tribalism will save us. How about we bring together our close friends and allies, our families, and inspirations, and form a tribe with them? Strength in numbers – then we create beautiful things together.

Yes, I prioritize my ‘tribe.’ I prioritize my people more than any other group, and that’s fine. The world includes people who aren’t worth trusting – who won’t stand by anyone, who screw people over, and who bring toxic value structures into the world. We don’t need to unify with everyone.

Although you’re not that person. If you’re reading this, chances are you’re someone I have a great degree of respect and care for. All my friends and relations, even if we may not talk much, I hope you know how much I value your presence in my life. Friends are truly the family of choice.

So let’s strengthen the good connections we have. Let’s build the tribe.

I walked a road of ashes today. “Seven months ago,” memories of fires flashed back from the sticks and sand. A mountain cast red – The cathedral of destruction towered above us, blazing into the night, we feared losing our homes, at the base of those burning hills. The trees went up by the thousands. Surprised, caught aflame, the trees left a wake of ashes, that washed down the mountains in the rain, where in the riverbeds they dried, sun baked into grievous scales upon the Earth.

Grey. Like the broken wheels in a grandfather clock. Heavy. Like water in a well. Behold the River Styx where quiet trolleys run. What passes along such roads now? Dreams of an America that never existed. Ashes. The lies and illusions of modern sitcom laughtracks. Ashes. The madness of those people [you know who] driving their mad trucks, raising a mad-middle finger on the oil-slick roads of their mad, mad world. Burn their own world to ashes.

What a great time to take things seriously, to look into the destruction, and say no more to such needless suffering. Rise, phoenix from the dust storm. We have keys and know the doors – how will we escape the box? A bird of many colors turns in her shell.

And I walk through this riverbed covered in debris of those trees lost to the fire. A memorial parade for desert beings I once knew. I sense the spirit of the river there: like those of its kind, it carries on through dryness and flood-times alike. Rhythms of the land keep flowing. Tomorrow I may dine with friends under a full moon. Today, I walk a road of ashes.

Marbles rolling in a pan.

Click, clack, and land.

Marbles rolling in my hand.

And the people walk around,

Up and down these silent streets they roam,

Some dead on the paint-spattered road.

Awakened ones, separating,

Percolating,

Their Fever Dreams:

Light a match,

And watch…

Us collect lanterns for fun:

Marbles rolling on the run,

Tumble away and from,

The marble-burning sun.

Marbles rolling in the jail,

Escape for the

Marble holy grail.

Oh, Finders-keepers,

Bloody Arsonist seekers.

Click, clack dream (her)

Own way, walking her

New day, new sun,

Click clack [real birds,]

Marbles rolling:

roll the drums.

“Now is the time.”

Like many people, I began 2020 with words like that. I felt like my life finally aligned on a good track. I looked forward to developing my career, spending more time with people I care about, creative projects etc.

Then everything happened.

Covid, wildfire evacuations, family members getting injured or sick.

I’ve had friends die, patients die and seen the effect of suicides on people I am close with.

I don’t need to argue that 2020 was a garbage year. The multitude of memes have already said it all. However, as I sit here reflecting on what has happened, I look with some anxiety towards where we go from here.

I’m not going to sugarcoat this: In the last twelve months I descended from a place of optimism and confidence about my personal future to a state of hyper-vigilance and depression. Every phone call from family, I immediately ask myself “is this another disaster?”

On my days off, I don’t want to get out of bed. By evening, my mind races looking for answers. Our world struggles with disasters and problems bigger than what any of us, individually or collectively, have yet been able to handle.

This year has taught me important and hard lessons.

And 2020 has also left me with insights that I feel are important whether or not the mainstream media talks about them. That is: We can’t keep doing this forever. We can’t keep failing to take care of our own people, prioritizing corporate profit over human beings, living in loneliness, and allowing so many people to go without the resources they need to live decent lives.

We have to build a better world than this. That’s been true for a long-time and yet there’s nothing like the collapse of ordinary life to highlight these issues in bold colors. It is my hope that 2020 will become a catalyst. That in the coming years, people will take back a great deal of their power, and begin to engineer a completely different world. We must not let the power structures that abandoned us in our times of need to define what the future “normal” looks like. People must rise and claim that power instead.

Another thing that goes with this: social distancing is one of the worst things that could happen to us. Please don’t misunderstand me: I’m not saying “avoid social distancing.” I’ve been mostly isolating myself from March to protect others. I believe this will be worth it if (and really only if) there are other solutions on the horizon. I believe those solutions will arise – maybe soon with the vaccines.

However, human beings are not really capable of “social distancing.” For one thing, this creates a horrible internal state within us. As a social species, we are not able to separate ourselves from others. Humanity only thrives through connection with others. This is as true for the economy as it is for mental and emotional wellbeing. We’ve seen careers and whole industries demolished at this point and (more importantly) people who have become depressed, disconnected and even suicidal.

For this reason we should only consider “social distancing” as a temporary adjustment. We wear masks and keep six feet apart out of service to our fellow mankind. I will continue doing my part to protect others and myself. However, this must come with another plan of action towards something different.

I keep seeing articles that say “we may be distancing from Covid for years or decades to come.” That’s untenable. We cannot ask people (especially the young, although older people as well) to give up their entire lives and futures, for indefinite decades of distancing and fear.

Let’s not pretend that the activities of life: friendships, careers, parties, groups, classes and all other forms of connection are optional. Rather they are what we live for. So we choose distancing and protections now, at this critical time, so that we might end this pandemic with minimal lives lost. Let’s not lose sight of that in 2021. There will come a time when we must consider when the need to return to social life outweighs the risk of disease (even if Covid becomes permanently endemic.)

I offer the following divination going into 2021. The rune I pull to characterize this time is Hagalaz (The Storm) and the word I want to highlight is Vision:

In times of suffering, it’s easy to seek a route to numbness. There is no blame in finding little things that make it easier for one to get through a difficult time. However, to make it out of the storm, we must also take proactive actions. For months, we’ve been riding through Hagalaz (The Storm.)

Severe torrential wind and lightning tore apart the once-familiar landscape. At every moment of calm (when the hurricane abates for an instant) we have a chance to re-connect with our vision of the land. We look to see where we are going. What do we seek to build in the wake of storm’s destruction? These questions are critical, not optional. If one does not ask such questions, they get lost in the storm. They will stumble around unaware, guided only by unconscious factors or (worse) by the powers-that-be who do not have the their best interests at heart.

This time calls for compasses and telescopes. While we want to keep the little moments of escape, perpetuating every little thing we still enjoy, we must also seize this moment to climb into a high tower, survey the landscape and ask “where do I want to go?” “What do I need and how do I find it?” I predict the key to abundance in 2021 lies in looking into that storm with great vision. This will not be easy. However, it will be worth it.

Finally, I’m reminded of a conversation I had with a friend about Miyamoto Musashi. We talked about the importance of remaining calm even in the midst of a great storm of danger. For Musashi, this meant swords and battlefields. We could certainly find the same calm within us during this time of disease.

Our great challenge lies in maintaining our own center and peace, when there is nothing about the conditions of our environment that would naturally lend itself towards such peace. For some people, this may even mean finding their inner center for the first time. What work could be more important?

2020 has taught me that still, now and always, “The time is now.” There is no other time – all we have is now. While we may need to social distance and live a difficult lifestyle for a while, we do ourselves injury by simply waiting for all of this to end. Patience becomes pathological.

Now is the time to find happiness within ourselves. There is no other. Now is the time to embrace our own destiny and take the next step down our path. No one will walk the road for us. And if we wait, we wait forever. Now is the time for vision, grand plans and actions when appropriate. Now is the time to do what is hard when necessary. And when it’s not necessary, let us enjoy as much of our lives as possible, even if it means simply watching the sun set and realizing that we have survived.

The world may “shut down” again, and yet we will continue moving forward. We flow with the life of this planet. “The time is now” will be true for 2021 and it will be true for every other year. We continue onward to weave our wyrd on this Middle Earth, into the next year and beyond.

The Jackal of Chaos found my Dad a gold watch for Christmas,

wrapped it in tin-foil and brought it to his house,

where she found him alone on the couch

in nothing more than his shorts,

the glare of TV on his face.

“Where are the others?” she asked him

(my Dad with the messy hair)

who sat on the couch

with nothing more than old popcorn

occupying that seat next to him.

“Where are the cousins?” she asked

“Where are Ray and Charlie and that

Syrah girl who wants to build a rocket ship

and leave this place? Did you not invite the carpenter?

The plumber? The bleary-eyed gambler from that dark alley

beside the Taco Bell? I see a party for one with no decent snacks

– and that’s boring as all hell. Turn up the heat a little.

Invite the woman with the purple nails.

Call her three sexy friends. And, oh call that guy Adam too

(I used to howl and sing with him back in the day.)

While we’re at it, summon four generations

of a swordsmithing family, and have them sharpen our knives.

We’re going to need a doctor before this night is over.

Maybe a city planner too.

Bring a farmer with a big hat and ask them necessary questions:

Where are the crows?

The snakes?

Our sons and daughters?

Your son, I know him.

He climbs mountains in the wintertime,

and in this long and cold season,

who does he pitch his tents with in the snow?

Of course, some people carry strange tattoos

and others walk with clear eyes

– and some have both –

as far as you’re concerned,

where have they all gone?”

My Dad laughs,

flipping the channel from cheap Chinese cartoons,

to re-run sitcoms re-running for the zillionth (∞) time.

“Home,” he said, “they went home to a place far away

with a name that I cannot pronounce.

Meanwhile, here I grow: old like fine potatoes.

A dreamer who lives even as the dream fades away.

Would you care for a cup of death or taxes?

We may sit here a while and

watch the last few minutes of this great show…”

See now the road of kings.

Grown with vines and foxes’ dreams.

Winding its way over death fields forgotten,

Into ashen caves of kings brought in,

Caskets draped in white shawl

Sword and stone laid over all.

Behold: The body of another king,

In graves upon graves,

resting. Not one rising.

No tears crying,

For only she will fly:

That bird of many colors,

Above the red sunrise,

Who sings her calling.

And down below, broken clocks keep falling,

Where bells ring upon empty towns.

And gamblers flip coins down.

And they have not seen the halls,

That beyond the King’s Road lay:

A thousand rooms of cold-stone grey

Draped with the bloodspray of Brutus’ knife,

Pooled like oil from a lamplight.

All such spaces lie barren,

Filled with smoke, pride and arrogance.

Washed away into air and sky,

Another son of sons

On his last road rides.

Have you ever had an encounter so unsettling that it leaves you shaken? Perhaps something so uncanny that you forget what you’re doing? I know a story like that. A man who will remain nameless, we’ll call him “the executive,” sits in the top of a glass tower, overlooking a field of airplanes. He sits at a polished desk with four little drawers, each containing blank paper, office supplies and such things.

Kendra appears and places a page on the executive’s desk. So, he stamps it with a red seal. And in an hour, three associates appear in their black suites and black ties, and these somber men stack the executive’s desk full of papers for him to stamp and sign. So he [stamps and signs] and [stamps and signs] and soon there is a red seal on every piece of paper on the executive’s desk.

And then Kendra appears with a box of daily questions from lower management, the risk analysis report from Frederick and a copy of the new insurance plans for him to review in detail, and the executive begins to wonder when he will get a chance to go home, if he will get a chance to go home, when Kendra phones in and says “your son is here to see you.”

What? The executive thinks. His son is supposed to be in Miami, far away from the family, relaxing, sinking into a chair, on the beach. Confused, the executive makes a call and asks that his son be sent up in the elevator. “I’m not sure you want to do that,” the secretary says, but the executive demands that his son be sent up in the elevator straight away, without delay, to his office.

Only when the double doors open, a different man walks through. This man is not the executive’s son. Rather he is the dirtiest man the executive has ever seen. The fellow wears a long brown trench coat and a wide-brimmed hat, and underneath, he has black soot and oil smeared over his face and hands. The man has the look of death about him – danger lurks in his wild eyes.

The executive wants to phone security, and yet the telephone is too far out of reach. The dirty man strolls into the room and sits down in the chair across from the executive. It appears likely that the intruder, this filthy man, may be carrying a gun under that long brown coat. So the executive does not reach for the phone. Instead, he sits and addresses this individual. “Who are you?” he asks.

The man smiles and does not say a word. His eyes glance around the room.

“What do you want?” The executive asks.

The dirty man does not speak again. With a look of menace, he reaches into his trench coat with his right hand, and the executive begins to panic. “Name one thing. Whatever you want, name it and I’ll make it happen,” the executive says.

“Aw shucks,” the dirty man says, looking out the window. “Look at all those airplanes down below. Beautiful creatures. When was the last time you went flying? Men of the Earth dream of flying with the birds, and yet here you are in your glass tower. My friend, it’s time to go on an adventure. Nothing else matters now.” The dirty man rambled on.

The executive studied him, coming to believe this man insane. “What do you want from me?” He asks.

The dirty man pulled his hand from his jacket: inside his palm was a container of grape chewing gum. The man placed two purple gum tablets on his tongue. “Mmmmmmm” he says, “That’s some damn fine chewing gum. Want a piece?” The man offered with a smile.

“No thanks,” the executive said, edging closer to his security phone.

“I was hoping you would give me some discounted tickets for a flight,” the dirty man said. “I know a beautiful woman in Bali, and she can help us decode the mystery of an ancient tablet. You’ll get instant answers to all your questions. It’s easy, you’ll see. How about we leave tomorrow?”

The executive replied, “You need to leave now. I’ll make sure Margaret sets you up with some discount tickets for your next flight.”

The other man rose, still chewing his bubble gum. He said “Thanks pops. Make sure to tell the airplanes I said hi. Also, when you’re walking home tonight, go into the first convenience store you find. Tell the drunks the secret of creating fire. Look them straight in the eye and say ‘follow your dreams, no matter what. The path lies in your heart.'”

“I will” the executive said, eager to get the dirty man out of his office. Finally he convinced the guy to get into the elevator and sent him back down. The executive sank into his chair, his heart racing. The stacks of paperwork on his desk seemed unimportant now. He picked up his phone and called his son to say hi. Then he remembered where he wanted to go: he phoned the new pizza restaurant, and arranged a dinner reservation for two. The executive left everything behind in his office, as he made his way to his car and drove off through the beautiful sunset-lit fields…