
This is what a background in religious studies plus sleep-deprivation will do to you.
On Friday I was in Manitou Springs, the old spa town on the west side of Colorado Springs, where I spent most of my twenties and had various formative experiences, such as meeting my wife, forming a coven, running a business, deciding to go to grad school — everyday stuff.
See, for instance, “The Witches of Manitou — More than an Urban Legend” and “One Night During the Cold War.”
Manitou has always been a tourist town, first peddling mineral springs, then a sort of generic “rubber tomahawks” Western tourism during the 1950s–1970s, with digressions into low-end art galleries, head shops, mountain-man paraphernalia, natural food stores, and of late New Agey stuff.
Having bought something at a shop selling Southwestern Indian jewelry, I went to Red Dog Coffee for a burrito, then crossed Manitou Avenue from the shady side (left of photo) toward the sunny side, where I had parked. I was tired, Foggy-brained. Needed coffee. I was so tired that I left my purchase there on the coffee house counter, and one of the baristas brought to my table. Duh!
In the crosswalk, I heard a resonant, ringing sound. I saw a man in a red coat holding a large red bowl, one of those “singing bowls” that played by running a wooden rod around inside the rim.
It made perfect sense! Adapting to the New Agey vibe in Manitou, the Salvation Army, collecting for its Christmas charity work, had switched to a singing bowl instead of the usual sidewalk bell-ringer with a kettle on a tripod. It was a “begging bowl,” like those used by some Buddhist monks!
I started feeling in my jeans pocket to see how much post-coffee change I had — or should i pull out some bills? (It’s a Christian denomination, but I still support the SA’s efforts).
Then I stepped up onto the sidewalk and turned toward the bowl-player. He was talking, trying to pull people into a gift shop. If I had dropped coins into his singing bowl, he might not have been pleased.
I walked a few yards to my parking spot, shaken to realize that I had been half in a dream-state. And I still had to drive through a hour and a half of high-speed multi-lane freeway traffic to Denver to visit a sick friend, which was Part 2 of my trip. Wake up! Be here now! No dreaming!
But we are always dreaming, just as the stars are always shining even when the Sun’s light over-powers them.
More coffee, Chas! More coffee!