gim·bal
ˈgimbəl,ˈjim-/
noun
noun: gimbal; plural noun: gimbals
A mechanism, typically consisting of rings pivoted at right angles, for keeping an instrument such as a compass or chronometer horizontal in a moving vessel or aircraft.
Origin
Late 16th century (used in the plural denoting connecting parts in machinery): variant of earlier gimmal, itself a variant of late Middle English gemel ‘twin, hinge, finger ring that can be divided into two rings,’ from Old French gemel ‘twin,’ from Latin gemellus, diminutive of geminus.
Welcome to the Weekly Gimbal. I’ll be helping transcribe Gimbal’s first weekly installment here, until he finds a durable keyboard of his own that meets his particular, eccentric and fickle, standards. Gim is an African raven with stormy blue-grey eyes and a profanely charming personality. He likes to flirt with women coast to coast, and if he didn’t keep eating the pages out of his notebook, would have dozens of numbers collected by now. (He does, on occasion, use a telephone.) He grew up in a polytheist temple, is an initiated priest, and serves his community locally and abroad with an arrangement of divination methods, from runes and cards to geomancy, bibliomancy, and more. (He’s been known to offer divination over a cadaver or two as well.)
When I asked Gimbal if he was interested in a weekly column, he was so overtaken with excitement that we needed to postpone the conversation until he calmed down enough to, well, land. And give me back my cigar.
Gimbal’s oracle for the week, determined via a form of corvidiomantic bibliomancy, draws from four volumes: a work of theoretical psychology, a work of inspired fiction, a work of folk tales, and a work of indigenous scriptural wisdom. ONE possible interpretation will follow, although it is by no means authoritative. Perhaps you the reader have a different take? If so, please let Gimbal know in the comments section, and next week he’ll provide an answer as to what his interpretation as the diviner is, along with another new oracle and a snazzy selfie.
“The room was quiet.
Fat Charlie stared at Daisy,
willing her to understand
the literal sense, at the level of
interpersonal action, and is only
secondarily, lately, translated
with orienting, for the purposes
of the present argument, therefore
appears as a phenomenon.
If the buffalo gets to the
marshy place, he will be free,
Rosie’s mother had told Rosie
that she was certain that Fat
can be restored.
Away with my money,
this was divined for the duck
the diviner of the house
of white cloth, together
am acquainted. The smaller
ones are frequently quite
as swift as a hare.”
Possible Interpretation:
It is important to bring oneself to stillness and quiet, in order to focus upon the reality of the things, however abstract or concrete, in order to bring one’s appreciative awareness toward true understanding.
Abundance and wealth, be they of material, social or spiritual means, are like the tides at times in ebb-and-flow, or as with the saying, “money come, money go”, with an implication of future ventures and opportunities for gain, even in present fortune’s escape from stable ground into the proverbial marsh. In short: when opportunity for success bolts wildly into the mud, this time around it is wise to let it go: there’ll be another chance.
Don’t let the loss of the cow force you to lower your expectations of gain; smaller “wins” can evade just as easily as the big ones… but by that same token, they can taste just as nice, if that’s your thing. Aim for what you Will, even in failing and flight: learn the terrain, from marsh to bramble, and learn the way the games are played. As a hunter or an investor in your own future, know what it is that you’re after, or don’t bother.
Please share your thoughts, or reflections on how this wisdom might apply to your present circumstances, in the comments section below.
Stay tuned next week for another oracle from Gimbal, and confirmation of meaning around the above!
