Friday, October 5, 2018

October 5, 2018 - The Lesson of the Foliage

Not to be outdone by any of the Spring or Summer flowers, the trees patiently wait and save their magic until the former are exhausted.  Only then do they show their true colors, and the flowers, now exhausted and weary, bow their heads in defeat.  They tell themselves that next year will be different, that next year they will ration their beauty, but they lie.

Tree magic.

That burst of energy and power the trees had when they exploded with green in the Spring now ebbs and finally is cut off.  Power shared is power lost, after all, and it is time to think inward.  It is time to hunker down and conserve what energy is left.  The trees complain and say that they are completely spent, that they have nothing more to give, but they lie.

It is a game each plays of feigning inferiority while all along beating their chests in a smug bravado.  And why shouldn’t they?  If you’ve got it, flaunt it.  Beauty is fleeting, so seize the day and enjoy what you have while you have it.  Then when you are passed over as being completely spent and useless, shine with the hidden brilliance you hoarded away for just such an occasion.  This is the lesson of the foliage.


Tuesday, October 2, 2018

October 2, 2018 - The Old Stump

There is not much left to this old tree stump.  I visit it every year to see how its demise is coming along.  “I am dying very well,” it says to me whenever I ask.  And this is, of course, true.  Tree stumps are incapable of lying.  All around it fall the brightly colored leaves full of last-minute joy, and the moss grows at the base, living among dead things.

Dying well.

I am reminded of how much we need this contrast of life and death.  The season of plenty gave us too much plenty.  At first we rejoiced.  Then we relaxed.  Finally, we languished.  Is this all there is?  We did not even see how full our plates were anymore.  How can you know fullness if you do not know emptiness?

But the Sun King has weakened once again, falling back to the West.  His fingers do not stretch as far as they used to, and he no longer burns us in chastisement for our lazy entitlement.  Soon, he will be all but gone.  I have heard the drums in the forest.  They are coming for him.

Meanwhile, the squirrels scurry frantically, storing away as much food as possible.  They at least can appreciate what they have.  Soon we, too, will be full of appreciation—but for what we have lost, not for what we have now.  Winter looms in the near distance, another obstacle on the path.  Another season of emptiness to give us blessed comparison and renew our hope through death.  It occurs to me that perhaps there are no obstacles on the path after all.  Perhaps the obstacles are the path.


Monday, October 1, 2018

October 1, 2018 - Autumn Party

AUTUMN PARTY

we will go to the party
I will wear my red dress
you will wear your green suit
and we will dance and dance
a haunting lilt in a brilliant hall
of spectacular beauty
and when it is over
they will tear down the pretty curtains
and remove the fine crystal
and piece by piece
they will dismantle the hall
and it will be as if it never was
as if there were no party at all
as if we had not laughed and danced
as if there were no red dress
bleak and cold and grey
chanting dirges of death
weighted down by the darkness
forlorn and forsaken
but it will not matter
because we cannot be touched
because in our hearts
we have already been to the party
with the red dress
and we know differently.



Wednesday, September 5, 2018

September 5, 2018 - How Washing the Dishes Saved the World

There is a feeling of massive frustration all around us.  Day after day, that feeling grows and grows.  We feel that things should be different than they are, but we don’t know how we got from there to here, or how to get from here to somewhere else.  Somehow along the way while the world was flying by us at breakneck speed and we were staring at our phones, we lost our ability to be “effective.”

There’s the tragedy that happened halfway around the world.  There’s the huge wildfire elsewhere that threatens the population.  There’s a hurricane about to touch land.  There are deadly illnesses and crazy politics and scheming madmen.  There are personal calamities and wars and famine and people we just don’t like.  But most of all, there’s a lot of rage, a lot of frustration, and a lot of sorrow.  If only the world could work the way we say it should.  But it doesn’t and it never will.

The World.
So we find ourselves in a state of perpetual confusion, a fog in which we walk day and night, unable to see more than a few yards beyond our own noses.  A fog so thick that it is utterly impenetrable, yet still we attempt to pierce it now and then because we remember a different world and we know things should be better.  But to no avail.  We are in the fog.  We are lost.

If this has ever happened to you or is happening now, take hope and be of good cheer.  There is a way to brighter days—not perfect days, mind you, but brighter.  The only way to find the sun that burns off that thick fog is through personal responsibility.  Through achievement we find self-esteem, self-reliance, and personal effectiveness.  Armed with this, we might not be able to stop what’s happening on the other side of the Earth, but we can certainly put our own lives in order—and THAT is what brings clarity.

It’s very simple, indeed.  When you are at rock bottom, at your wits’ end, the only thing you can do is to reach for what is directly in front of you.  (The real secret, of course, is that all you can EVER do is reach for what is directly in front of you, but that has to be learned and is not something you grasp simply by being told.)  So we begin at the beginning.

Tonight or tomorrow, grab your dirty dishes that are littering the sink and countertops and wash them by hand and set them in a drying rack.  It doesn’t matter if you have a dishwasher and “could be doing something better,” do them by hand anyway.  Or maybe you have a piece of prefab furniture that needs to be put together.  Do it with a hand screwdriver, the old-fashioned kind.  It doesn’t matter if you have a cordless electric screwdriver and “could do it in one-quarter of the time,” do it by hand anyway.

Set aside a week to do as many things as possible the “old” way.  Maybe you will make a homemade loaf of bread from start to finish.  Maybe you will go fishing and catch your own dinner and fry it yourself.  Maybe you will wash a few pieces of laundry in the sink by hand, even though you have a washing machine.  Maybe you will trim the hedges with hand shears.  Maybe you will wash the dishes every night by hand, etc.

What will this do, you ask?  Surely we have “better” things to occupy our time?  At first this will simply give you something to do, and as much as we all like to lounge around now and then, humans are happier when they are industrious.  Then it will give you a “reconnect” to everyday life around you.  It will put you INTO life instead of watching it from the sidelines and just pressing a button.  Then it will give you a sense of accomplishment and personal achievement.  It doesn’t matter if the tasks you are doing seem small and insignificant.  No job is menial or below any other.  Every job is important.  Everything we do to make our lives run efficiently gives us a sense of personal responsibility and control—but the key is we have to do it ourselves, not press a button or have someone else do it for us.

In essence, we make ourselves more “effective.”  We find our ability to order and fix and beautify our own lives.  And that is a wonderful thing, so simple but so perfect!  Because we’re not just sitting on the sidelines anymore, we’ve got both hands elbow-deep into life.  What happens then?  Eventually, we begin to look around ourselves to find more and more things we can “fix,” more things we can do, more things we can bring under our own personal control and protection.

This is how you build a “home,” regardless of whether you live in a house, an apartment, or a tent.  This is how you begin to structure your life.  This is how you—slowly but surely—build potency and effectiveness.  Bit by tiny bit, you handle what is in front of you—always what is in front of you, not 1,000 miles away.  Bit by tiny bit, you rebuild yourself, your home, and then your community.  And yes, eventually you save the world.

Wednesday, August 15, 2018

August 15, 2018 - Dancing Light

DANCING LIGHT

tiny bits of sun
falling from the sky
a transient gift
sparkling atop the waves
the water grasping
for the baptism of light
that dances on the surface
and slips through its fingers
then jumps to the shore
to warm the cliffs
and fly with the birds
back to heaven
 
 

Monday, July 23, 2018

July 23, 2018 - You are not Alone

It is a feeling of such intense longing.  The people can see it; they can almost smell it.  They walk around with their faces bent over their phones, paging through.  Paging and paging.  Searching….  They are looking for it.  Maybe it will be in the next post, the next announcement, the next comment.  And they page and page. 

But it is not there.  Maybe it will be there next time.  Yes, there is always a next time to page through again.  Maybe it will be there.

In pursuit . . .
They buy so many products, a good deal of which they do not need.  Maybe it is there.  They treat themselves to rich food and drink.  Or they eat what they know is not good for them.  Maybe they will find it in defiance.  Perhaps an element of self-destruction will jolt them back into . . . something.  They lose themselves in television or movies.  It might be in just the next frame.  Maybe it will be.

And then, quite by accident, they see a photo of the ocean.  Or the forest.  Or a meadow in bloom.  It reminds them of the scent of a rose.  Is that the call of a bird of prey somewhere in the distance?  And the whisper starts in the back of their mind.  “Run!  Run!  Go and get it!”  They stare, mesmerized.  They expand the photo on their screens and melt into it.  Just for a moment….  “Run!  Go and get it!”

Tears flow.  “Please,” they say, “take me in and shelter me.  Hold me until I get over this, until I get out of this evil spell, until I can see the splendor again.  Please keep me safe.”  And the tears flow.  “I just want to rest for a few minutes.  Please.  Help me.  Let me stay in this place for a short while until I find myself again, until my soul begins to heal.  Please….”

Then the moment is gone.  They shake their heads to clear out the cobwebs.  They stare ahead with a blank look . . . and begin to page again.  Surely it is here somewhere . . .  Surely it is just around the corner.

And the grass that you trample under your feet reaches up to pat your ankles, and it whispers, “I dream of you.”  The wind caresses your face and brings cool sweetness, and it whispers, “I have been waiting for you.  The Earth gives a sweet scent that swirls around your head and intoxicates you, and she whispers, “I still love you.”

You are not alone.  You are never alone.  In your heart you know where to find it.  Go and get it.

Monday, July 16, 2018

July 16, 2018 - Secret Prisons

In the very early hours of the morning when the heavy dew is still upon the fields, the hidden secrets from the night before are revealed.  Usually invisible at ordinary times of day or night, these traps are made plain by the dawn.  I look out over the green and I see the webs everywhere.  Everywhere. . . traps, prisons, dungeons.

How often do I walk through them without knowing?  I would imagine constantly.  These secret invisible prisons hide in plain sight, and no one is the wiser.  They are traps set by cunning spiders for unsuspecting insects, and although I, too, am unsuspecting as I traipse through the field, my size protects me.  It is the only thing that protects me in this case as the spiders would be more than happy to accommodate me in one of their dwellings.

A shimmering mesh; a secret prison.
All around me I see the transparent cells, and it occurs to me that a great secret has been revealed.  Spiders are not the only creatures who set traps.  Many predators do, too, mankind in particular.  And I begin to wonder . . . how many traps are set all around me that I do not see?  That which passes for the “news” these days, now that is certainly a trap.  Propaganda?  Definitely.  “Safe” chemicals in foods and other goods?  An invisible prison lying in wait.  A deceitful “friend”?  A transparent dungeon.  Fashion?  Shackles.

It is no different than the spiders.  As the morning dew reveals the spiders’ traps, what is the “dew” that reveals the human traps?  I say it is calm, cool awareness.  I say it is refusing to indulge in emotion and instead relying upon common sense.  I say it is patience—the ability to watch and wait and then act.  I say it is deliberate, chosen thought and the ability to discern right from wrong.

The dew is upon the fields, and awareness awaits.  Ignore it and fall into a well-made trap, and you have no one to blame but yourself.  Remove yourself from the barrage of sound, from the flashing lights, from the empty promises.  Be calm and cool and aware.  Refuse to give in to emotional storms.  Rely upon your common sense—if it looks too good to be true, it probably is.  Be patient.  Watch, wait, and then spring if necessary.  Choose your thoughts deliberately, and the spiders will be revealed.