“Some people have well-oiled machines. Mine is driven by a hand crank. My comfort zone is very small, and runs on fumes. Built on tiny S.O.S. messages sent out to the universe daily, each step forward is a monumental miracle of coordination. What it takes to keep it all rolling along, is nearly always, just out of reach. And yet, I have a roof over my head, and food every day. My friends, family & hired help are trying equally hard, to meet their own objectives. I wish we could all lighten up, but we can’t. Things are just too hard right now. Everyone feels pressure, according to their beliefs, and their income. Apples or oranges, it cuts into each person’s sanity, and sense of balance, or worthiness. There are moments, of clarity, that stab us with nostalgia. Remember when we could just breathe in the smells of the earth’s goodness & be repaired? Or, driving along a long, straight road of fresh-cut hayfields with the window down, fill with ecstasy? Or, sitting back on the cool ground, for a drink of water, or bite of sandwich, could reliably get a fix, of “all is well”, and normal? I’m still there, now & then but concerns for the state of our world are never far from my mind. It can’t be all gone, and for me, enough of daily life reminds me of that easy bliss, that I keep going back for it, regardless of what has been diminished, or removed. I still crave having work to do, for others, despite a devaluation of my efforts that comes and goes. In and of itself, work is gold. I’m like a junkie on the hunt, for a place to be considered useful. And useful for who I am, not just who someone wants, needs or expects me to be. That’s normal, for a human, I think. May we all be so blessed, to have a place to offer ourselves, unencumbered. Even on a bad day, we still have much to give: our honesty, our integrity, our care. Just showing up, has taken on an enormous meaning to me, and I now understand how it amounts to gratitude. Doesn’t need to be declared, or even acknowledged, merely done in small, simple acts, seen or unseen. Yes, every tree falling in the forest is noticed & reverberates through its closest networks. Many live solitary lives, not necessarily alone but perhaps, unremarkably or with such humility they are passed by. It’s okay; this life is not a competition but it is a puzzle, to be taken up or endured, or pounded with much heartbreak. And any love that can persist under adversity is a promise, the coinage of the present, or more likely, a harbinger of some future harvest we can’t, as yet, imagine. Which is why I don’t turn away from the monotony of routine labor, especially done outdoors, or in a cubicle of my own making, which allows me the freedom to leave at any time. It’s why my own house has too many doors and so many windows, impractical for northern climates, but tuned to my spirit. Much can be found in good fellowship, but for those living in the shadows under an angry cloud, knowing there is more and committing to it, with every fiber, is the only way forward.”
