Pain is a Black Illusion of the Mind Mr. Crow

“Up and at ‘Em Judy” they call me. Firing up the lawnmower at 11 a.m. after the grass had dried, to do another 90 x 100 foot swatch.

I found my energy flagging, so started shouting out Louise Hay-ish affirmations about blood and lymph and oxygen and being strong and having stamina and strength and flexible tendons, muscles and ligaments. Crazy woman in an old straw hat tied on with a shoelace, shouting things about blood and muscles. What will the neighbours say? “There she goes again!” maybe?

Eventually I had to stop, but I got somewhere at least and moved some oxygen around the body. Ain’t so bad Rock.

WIND – 3 ISOLATION (3 of Swords)



Oooh he’s mad ‘cause I was making so much noise mowing the lawn that he couldn’t grab and eat baby grackles from the nest.

Too bad crow baby, I’m on the move in the big savanna of my backyard grass. You can be Black Monday and fly away, leaving me perfectly happy to be isolated in the beach in your place.

Pain is an illusion of the mind, as is isolation.




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