Today I managed to get outside just past 6 a.m. I missed my 5 a.m. midsummer walks altogether this year, without any real excuse beyond internal chaos. Now the sun doesn't rise until much later so at 6:11 a.m. the world is still cool and blue. Today I went to the pond instead of out along the tracks.
There were far fewer birds than expected. I did not see or hear any quail, nor any ravens, which struck me as odd. There was one roadrunner in evidence, for a few moments. But mostly I heard nothing beyond the occasional motor passing by on the road. Then I wandered around behind the pond.
There are rocks. There is garbage. Just below this rock there is one with a bright blue "F-You" painted on it.
There it is. You didn't need to see that, did you? This is the Kali Yuga. The sun came up; it shines without favor on all of it - the spiral of creation and the F-you of the Kali Yuga.
I felt subdued. The air was fresh and the light clean and clear. Yet I am tired of everything here, no matter how beautiful it can be. Perhaps my exhaustion is part of the Kali Yuga. Perhaps it's my age. Perhaps it has to do with living somewhere just too long. I'm a hunter-gatherer at heart.
I do love me some countryside, though. Wild sunflowers bloom in languorous disarray, thick piles of white Datura trumpets fill culverts and dot roadsides, tiny sweet purple grapes with one big stone in each are plentiful on every vine threading chain link fences in town. They are almost too much trouble to eat, but so sweet I press on with bliss! Even my hollyhocks are starting to bud again at the root.
So I'll simply note my discontent and move on into the day. We have no plans to move. But so much for planning!
I'm in a bog. It's my day off, a day I declared sacred to self-interest so I could finally heal my right forefinger slashed by broken glass in dishwater a week ago. It is amazing how a deep cut crossing a knuckle will refuse to stay closed even when securely wrapped and coddled. I am sure by now that I should have had it stitched but the doctor is miles and miles away and the clinic was closed at the time of the wash-up, so there we have it. It's not bleeding any more, but my career as a hand model is ended!
Whenever I take a day to myself like this it usually ends up wasted. Not only does my workaholic husband shoot me poison looks, but, sad to say, I feel like I get fatter and less capable by the minute. Yet the finger demands some attention. It may be small, and an inconsequential injury for a field laborer, but I write and draw, my work is fine and detailed, and I can't go on like this!
Am waiting for new calendar pages so can't work on that project, but did spend enough time reading gardening books to understand what I'm up against. We live in the high chaparral and my landscaping choices are limited. Yet it's exciting to think about the changes I might be able to make in our yard over the next 6 months. I have lots of plans and think I'll do a before and after photo series to keep me accountable.
But right now the blasted terrible heat of late summer is upon us. It's in the 90s - enervating heat that forces me indoors to huddle around the swamp cooler. I did ride my spinner bike for 15 minutes this morning, which, though not precisely an achievement, still represents getting 'back on track.' The weight loss plan I started in April, which had worked so very well up until mid-August when Mom arrived and we went on vacation, only required a 15 minute spin every morning plus a detailed eating plan for every week, covering my brunches, snacks and dinners.
It feels good to move back in that direction.
Regarding the potential for full time work, I drew the following Tarot cards from the Rider/Waite deck: Page of Wands between Ace of Swords and Five Swords. The Page, who represents a messenger, is facing the Five of Swords which generally represents defeat. The Page's back is to the Ace, which represents oaths or commitments. I have chosen to interpret this as a message that the potential I so dreaded is not going to come to pass after all, and that the time of oath or commitment has passed.
It's the only time I've ever been happy to see the Five of Swords in a reading, and I don't fully trust that it could bring me good news. The next few weeks will tell.
By "Cosmic Jest" I do not refer to the tragedy that happened on this day 12 years ago. That catastrophe is an overshadowing presence that puts my own little life and its travails into correct perspective.
Yet I will continue to quibble and cavail about my affairs, which do now take on the nature of a cosmic jest.
Despite having turned down a full time position (after torturous deliberation) I am now being thrust into one to cover for a colleague! It is temporary, theoretically, perhaps lasting through January, but I am fighting a tendency to snarky bitterness because I hate having my plans thwarted. Obviously there is a power that wants me to work full time.
And as if to make it very clear who is in charge, this "permanent art installation" was placed at the entrance to the neighborhood park yesterday morning, right across the street from us:
I don't know the artist's name or I'd mention it here. [Note: His name is Ricardo Breceda] Whereas this figure may have creative merit, I can't help but wonder if it's really appropriate at the entrance of a park with a toddler playground and library.
This morning I took a long walk, something I'll not be able to do except on weekends for months now. There is something about being out there at first light which bolsters my soul, something about the liquidity of those first rays and that nourishing freshness in the air that keeps me not just sane but correctly energized. The thought of losing my connection with the rising sun is very depressing.
It is hard not to do more than count my losses today. But there has to be a pony, right?
I'll be doubling my income. Can't hurt! That will allow me to build up my savings account, and the size of my paycheck will help my (eventual) retirement check.
The wash will still be there in a few months.
And it gave me an excuse to order a two page per day calendar for my compact binder.
A week walking the beach has helped clarify my thinking. The beach - on California's central coast - featured miles of boardwalk.
I walked, collapsed into sleep, got up to eat, walked some more. The beach was so wild that a seal carcass was being devoured by vultures on the shore while I was there. It took them a few days. The live seals - at least the ones I could see - were very fat.
The beach was covered with enormous bleached tree trunks and mountains of kelp swarming with kelp flies. It was invigorating and blissful to walk without a destination or goal in mind.
When I wasn't walking or sleeping or eating, I was sitting and reading or thinking. The book I brought along is called Seven Thousand Ways to Listen by Mark Nepo. Here's the Amazon link (someday I'll figure out how to disguise this chunk of gibberish with a word): http://www.amazon.com/Seven-Thousand-Ways-Listen-ebook/dp/B007EE4WX6/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1378341327&sr=8-1&keywords=7%2C000+ways+to+listen
I'm not done with Seven Thousand Ways yet, but something I read in it made a powerful impact on me:
"...it occurred to me that while a bird starts out with a destination in mind, it simply rides the currents. As human beings, though, we somehow over-reach the currents, imagining routes and timetables that we have no control over. We call these routes and timetables goals. If large enough, they become ambitions and aspirations. Then we adhere to them as if they came from God."
I read this while lying on a hotel bed observing the way light moved across the plaster on the ceiling. Rarely am I that inert, so it zinged right in and hit home. Thank you, Mr. Nepo. I saw clearly how I over-plan my life. How I create projects and lists of things to do that ultimately oppress me. I have lists with undone items that go back years. I have not been riding the currents.
I decided then and there to change how I approach my life. I've planned myself crazy over the past decade with segues from Palm Pilot to Day Timer to Filofax to Franklin Covey to iPhone to Uncalendar. Obviously this manner of finding my way does not work!!!
But I can't just stop cold. Yet. So now I'm only keeping a small ring binder with just a few sections in it: Directions. Currents. Curiosities. Shopping. Schedule. Lists and Numbers. It will take some work to turn this juggernaut of planning in a new direction, especially since I can't just let everything go to heck.
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| Perspective |
The biggest change for me will be consciously sensing and riding the currents, mainly because I am not sure what falls under that rubric. Karma? The Tao? That's why I have a notes section for it. This is where I must learn to listen (and not just throw yarrow sticks).
Finding my directions will involve more sensing than thinking, too. Just last month I made a life changing choice to turn down a full time job in favor of keeping my part time position. That was not logical, given my financial needs, but when I listened to my heart the decision was ultimately very clear, and I've felt such deep inner peace following that choice that I know it was the right thing to do.
Curiosities is the section where I will write all my questions, and whatever else may bemuse: Interesting quotes, observed oddities, peculiar thoughts.
The rest of the planner will be pretty standard. I'm using a week plus notes Filofax page with a clear flyleaf to which I affix stickies. Thank you to all who gave me this idea on your blogs and videos! I have some blank note paper behind the shopping tab, and anything that was formerly a goal or objective or project is going to be tucked away in the back under "Lists and Numbers".
Vacations are notorious for spawning life changing decisions that fizzle out once we are immersed in our daily life again. There is a real danger of this since my planning habit is so ingrained.
I would love to hear if anyone else is looking at their calendars a bit differently. I wish you peace!
Thanks for reading.
