So my mind answered in a voice of my own, "I don't know, it'll come to me."
Hermione had said this, somewhere in Harry Potter* which we'd been watching all week. For the record I've seen Dracula more times than could possibly be counted unless I was counting which I wasn't, and nor did I notice the pun until on the second writing of "Count" - but it's been a long time since I last saw that film. Made in 1992 before many things were even born, Gary Oldman is now hailed as "one of the greatest actors who ever lived" with very good cause. His blockbuster status has, I hope, not changed the man revealed in some depth by the making of that movie. When we're young, we just run, until in time something of our strength allows us to stand still for long enough to take stock.
* Looking for a Harry Potter link, I stumbled across the one you're led to, just two days old,
citing Durham Cathedral (significant to me!) and a Government review - muggles take heart! Magic is upon us....
The line "I don't know, It'll come to me," was also softly spoken by the lovely Linda Kozlowski, departing the clutches of sleazy Richard to chase the man she would marry in real life down the subway stairs in bare feet.
I'll resist further Hollywood forays, for fear of venturing too far from the plot.
For when I came here this morning, my mind wasn't on films, it was sailing close to the winds it often surfs these days as my efforts to keep it in check simultaneously succeed and fail, for even though I may sound like an old hand when using the alphabet, the twists and turns of life hold surprises that pull you back sharply into another learning curve from time to time. Not one to blow trumpets too loudly, I've been at this for a while now, this strange skimming of quantum soup from which bubbles, now and then, a revelationary moment of magical persuasion. Last night there came an understanding, of sorts, achieved by means beyond mortal control, as these things often are... an understanding of the power of thought and what it can do, and here this morning writing this, the words of Voldemort come to mind:
"There is only power, and those too weak to seek it."
Now, I find that line a little puzzling, for he said "seek it," rather than "use it," but never mind, the authors had their own ideas. (Comments welcome....!) To seek power is a dangerous thing, to my way of thinking, for we can swiftly form an illusion of ownership when power dips a hand in the thought process. Backstage I take no credit for writing Quantumology - it wrote itself, with the help of others who've demonstrated their powers very satisfactorily to me, and whom I won't be forsaking when the time comes for admissions. Somewhere in the haze of futuristic probability, there may be a calling to confess.
For now, though, the last day of 2017 falls upon us, and our thoughts are with you, ones who are loved, ones who live and ones who have lived, ones we fear to love and ones we love to fear, all singularities in whom we have faith and in whom we see shortfalls of our own making, for it is plain to see that we have only our own perspective from which to judge the world of perspectives, our pixel in the kaleidoscopic plan being what it is - a subatomically small piece of a gigantic jigsaw.
No accident can there be in living Now, as we are in this moment, our age determining only the amount of information we have collected on the way, the sands of our time shifted by forces greater than our own while our chosen perspectives made the music subtly soothing, stark and challenging, light and playful, tumultuous only to tumble into something gently evocative, for Ron was right, and yes I thought hard about the placement, but life is a kind of music. While we breathe, the conductor never sleeps.
Thought is power in itself, so be not under the illusion that your thoughts are inconsequential, or private, or meaningless. We cling to these preconceptions - I certainly have spent time excusing myself for those I'd rather not have along these very lines, assuming it doesn't matter, that somehow I can recall them, that they have no impact anyway. But when you find yourself cross-referencing the thoughts of another, and then find in the matrix the messages intended for you (er... when the time is right, mind, and not before), you may be moved to take care of them, those thoughts, and consider your friends - those friends inside you, the ones who never left. And the friends who seemed to leave, but never did. Blame is just Lame with a big B at the front to bolster it, and Guilt is just Guile gilt-edged with a T to make it look sharp. Our gremlins may play games with our minds, but even in the games there is an understated kinship, a call to find the codes in the languages we speak, to unravel the mysteries of our own making in doing the things we do. Back then, where the last link was written, perhaps the field was less positive than perhaps it may be now. Back then, I didn't know what I was about to find - another story on unwritten lines. My beautiful daughters born to musical gifts are about to embark on their greatest adventures, and last night they paved the way for a new year of powerful resolutions.
Should you find yourself in a weaker moment wondering what it's all for, strength comes hot on the heels of new emotion. Logic comes from transformation. 2018 is calling for change. Let's go and make it so,