Mask

That old fisherman just headed down to the lake again, pole and bucket in hand.  It’s so quiet here.  I can hear the hollow sound from his bucket when he first sets it down on the ground.  I like that.  There’s a comfort in the ordinary. I grew up far from this tiny lake, surrounded by water.  Fish and clams and minnows and fisherman were my everyday.  This familiar scene runs very deep and soothes me somehow.

Little else does right now.  I feel as if I am at a masquerade ball.  We are dressing up in costume for business as usual, while beneath these masks it is anything but.  We are unrecognizable.  Nothing is at it seems.

A hawk circling high overhead, just swooped down low,  a few feet in front of my eyes – as if on command.  An omen.  We are entering powerful times. Every cell of my body feels it.  I couldn’t sleep last night.  My “Mom” mask may be buying school supplies, but my light worker self can barely contain her excitement.  It’s pretty wild to be contemplating the price of notebooks while simultaneously saving the world.

We are super heroes in disguise – We look like regular people, yet beneath these calm exteriors lie powerful forces.  Don’t you feel like that?

It’s like every fantasy rolled into one.  There’s good guys fighting corruption, space ships, natural disasters, help from the heavens and everlasting love.  It’s all here and yet, while it goes on, we pay our bills, mow our lawns and talk about the weather.

We have families to raise, money to earn and a planet to save.  Not just anyone could do this you know.  It takes one powerful being to pull off such a stunt.  Our masks are so well constructed the vast majority of the population will never even know they exist.  We are that good.