I have been thinking about wishing and the power of intent, and the warning to be careful what you wish for because it might come true. I find that cautionary note to be increasingly important. I am looking around, inventorying rogue wishes, seeing whether any need to be coaxed into the light of consciousness, lest any self-inflicted surprises be in the works.
What I find is some version of the urge to run away with the circus, to be a jester in a traveling troupe of players. In the increasingly mainstream world of tarot imagery, the Fool is a glyph of wholeness, and is about taking the first step. Plunging blithely forth, blissfully ignorant, willfully optimistic.
I’ve always liked the Peter Falk Columbo character, who reeled in the baddie by disarming them with his rumply coat and faux-cluelessness. Back when I was a newspaper reporter, I used to adopt the same demeanor. Sometimes it worked, and other times I’m sure I just came across as clueless.
Now, as a generalist working with specialists, I find I’m sometimes the first to confess ignorance. I fear that if no one breaks the ice people will posture rather than communicate, especially when attempting to work across disciplines.
Relevant reading: Many Moons, by James Thurber. To Play the Fool, by Laurie King. Jesus the Holy Fool, by Elizabeth-Anne Stewart.