Searching For My Salamander

I was kicking rocks. I love that phrase. It so perfectly describes the feeling of being subliminally bummed out. Not devastated, broken or soul crushed. Just kinda bummed. Nothing in particular was wrong, but also maybe nothing was right. January is always a weirdo month, I fucking hate the cold and LA is getting it bad right now. I’m in the midst of some fairly jarring changes, of which I’ll likely come out the other side triumphant, but oh the unknown is scary always always always. My romantic escapades keep falling flat. And evidence of the major life-momentum I had in November has receded. So yeah. Back to the rocks.

I was walking up to Runyon Canyon and on the phone with my friend A - we were talking about the divine mediumship class I’m taking, and how the teacher discussed symbols being inherently meaningless, but we as humans assign personal meaning to most everything.

A told me about some rocks she’d found the day before at the beach and I remembered I was supposed to find a ra…