Thursday, 8 January 2015

Bordering on the ridiculous

should i......?


Talking of Hexagons of the Heavens – as we seem to have been doing for a day or two now – have I ever told you the story of the blue van, the Spanish Border and the Hexagon of The Abyss?

I don’t believe you have, hang on I’ll check. Check, check, check, check – no apparently nothing .

Well it was in the eighties some time, a while ago anyhow and I think I was experiencing Saturn’s return.

Oooh, that can be heavy.

Can be, for me my dad died, my mum dad and a bit after that I found myself approaching the Spanish border in a blue van.

What were you doing there?

I was leaving stuff behind, setting out for a new stuff and intending, if not to become Spanish, then to live there.

Did you speak Spanish?

Un poco. There was a girl too.

Two?

Well, I didn’t say that – I said TOO; but come to think of it there WAS one behind, one before.

And?

Everything was fine until I got near Perpignan.

Perpignan! I know it well; I fell out of bed there once – possibly the last time I fell out of bed.

That’s a coincidence – me too.

Hotel bed?

Hotel bed!

That’s why I like you; we have so much in common. Anyway, what happened?

I started feeling uncertain.

Uncertain?

Really uncertain.

What did you do?

Crossed the border, drove a bit, panicked, turned round, drove back, crossed the border the other way, panicked, turned round, drove back across the border, panicked anew, turned around anew, crossed the border anew…

Hang on….. cross, ….cross…. France?

Yes.

Then?

Stopped. Turned off the engine and stared at the night.

I’ve done that, recently too in fact – how long?

Couple of hours.

Alone?

I was.

Anyone know where you were?

No.

Anyone expecting you?

No.

Blocked at the border.

Beached at the border.

Becalmed at the border.

Not so calm, I felt ill.

What did you do?

Took out my I-Ching sticks and sat at the table – the van had a table – lit a candle and threw the I-Ching.

What happened?

Hexagon of the Abyss.

Hang on …… number 29, not always called the Abyss.

It was in my book (Powell’s) and that didn’t look too promising. Then I read the trigrams.

And.

Danger upon Danger.

Double danger.

Danger heaped upon danger.

What did the judgement say?

Abyss upon abyss, danger piled on danger, that’s as far as I got though reading it today and the commentary, it seems that it wasn’t all bad.

It doesn’t sound all good.

No, I thought so at the time. I certainly figured I couldn’t cross the border again so I got into bed and slept.

Good dreams?

I don’t remember but reading the commentary today with enough distance from the emotional state of the time I might not have seen it so negatively?

Did you move to Spain?

No way. I went for Christmas, stayed a week and then crossed the border again heading north.

Where to?

Amsterdam.

Amsterdam? Why?

Long story.

Get there?

Eventually, without the van though, engine froze in Blois.

Blois?

Blois, abandoned van, jumped on train though something was clearly telling me not to move
.
Talking of moving, this is getting to be a really long post and maybe we should cut it up into bits to help us do -‘this’- (editorial note).

Too late.


No comments: