No words.
The T-Shirt – Maybe
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Jealousy, envy, and “It just sucks”
StandardI was thinking that the function of these emotions or their kin may be a signal from our heart, soul, Being, (whatever word fits) that we are not operating within our particular groove. A signal that we have become lost in motivations, goals, dreams, or intentions that did not originate from our own Soul or God or purpose (whatever word works). No matter how “good” or “bad” they may seem to be they are not ours for they do not bring life with them. So that when we see someone who is actually enjoying, or creating, excelling, or living their life we recoil at the sight, injured but not by the Other’s success but by our own lack of definition and creativity. Taken rightly these signals can help us awaken to the un-lived life that is exclusively ours to create. We tend to recoil from the negative within us but it, in whatever form, can give direction as to where a new creation is required in our Soul. Be about your own groove and you can share your thing when it’s time to shed, play, or dance. Then you have something to offer the experience rather than the joy of it stealing yours. It’s all jazz. Sometimes we comp. Sometimes we solo. Sometimes we appreciate and applaud others. There are places in the flow for all. It is the disconnection and inability to join in that is signaled by the negative that arises in us. Just like an oil light on the dashboard negative emotions are trying to help us. So many times we turn away from the very help we say we want. If the quiet signals are not attended to eventually the engine will blow and our Soul will force us to give it our attention and care.
Who you are is already enough. Learn the path your Soul wants to go. And go with Her. She will never leave or forsake you. Forsake Her at your peril. I’m serious here. She will mess you up. She can be a real bitch if she needs to be. Of this I know. From what I hear this is a lifelong process so I don’t think we finally “get it” and its ours. But it seems just moving in the direction (typically toward dread) is enough to get things going. Maybe just moving at all and breaking the inertia and addiction of the old stale patterns is enough to start. It can feel crazy but the “crazy” is clinging to what is not, what has never been except in our wishes and grief. It was written that Abraham was reckoned righteous because when he was called “he went out not knowing where he was going.” His rightness apparently was in the going not necessarily how or where he went. So I’m guessing that the “right” direction is not on a compass. But I do think it is just past and on the left of moving, going, and seeking that which only crazy people believe in. And somehow that process will get one there. It is “crazy” to cling to an idea that there is a purpose for your life, that there are answers to the questions and longings of your soul. The World’s system is so noisy it is hard to hear and know oneself. Sometimes our Soul will have to scream at us in order to get our attention. What I do know is that what don’t work now still won’t work later. Clinging to what is not will not get me or you or anyone to what needs to be. It might hurt to let go and can be most terrifying. But the wraith-like existence of the lie is utter damnation. Perhaps the voices in our heads know what the hell they are talking about. Be Groovy.
Garden Update – What to do when you get Chewed On
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Been gone for a couple weeks. Everything has been about its business and is thriving. But . . . the deer have discovered this little space. Apparently they have a taste for Collards and Cabbage and Brussel Sprouts and Swiss Chard.
They have not touched the Chicory or the Kale yet. It is so pretty still.
Likin’ some Swiss Chard. Guess they are balancing out their greens.
They are killing the Brussel Sprouts and it is not even cold yet. So what does one do when they are getting chewed on? One thing I have to remember is that a perfect garden is one that produces not some ideal symmetrical form only truly understood by Plato himself. I remember the initial vision I had for this place when I planted it. Sometimes it seems things don’t turn out like I planned. Really they usually never do. It is not even surprising anymore. Is it not true that many times it is the imperfections of a thing or a place or a person that makes them endearing, unique, singular? Perfection can be boring and lack character. I know that it is from the weird, broken, insecure, place in me that the best stuff finally emerges and makes me, me. I also know that this little place will still provide some delicious meals. The cool thing is that even when we get chewed on it will grow back. Be Groovy. 🙂
Poetry comes in many Forms
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I should have taken some pictures of the before. There was 2500-3000 pounds of wood hanging fourteen feet in the air that needed to get to the ground without tearing something or someone up. It was old and wobbly and was getting unsafe for humans to be on. It seemed a rather simple proposition initially. I thought “just tear it down and build another one.” While that was a generally true statement there is a lot more involved. Needless to say there were at least two incidents were I needed to run, then jump down the hill to avoid falling timber and broken body parts. But after the dust settled it was down and we were still whole.
Next came the multiple trips to Home Depot. Partly because I could not carry everything on the trailer and partly because there is always something unexpected or forgotten. One load of four.
The next step involved figuring out how to hang 2500-3000 pounds of wood back up over empty space. We had six and eight foot stepladders, some scrap lumber, and a poet who is not friendly with heights, shaky ladders, and wobbly frames.
But in the end you do what you have to do to build the supports. I was promised that all of this was the hard part. I forgot to mention what it was like to set the 6×6″ post on the side of a hill with nothing to hold on to. I was glad is was done. And it was perfectly square and level and solid when we were finished. It took a day and a half to get this far. I was hoping my friend was right about the hard part.
That is Chris, the brains of the operation. He was right about the process. Once we got the floor joists in the floor was a fairly easy job. I have always admired people who are craftsman, who can take raw materials and create useful things. It is his poetry and creativity and a mind who thinks of the world differently than mine that made it possible. I think in terms of words and concepts. He can envision a shape and a process and make it materialize. The hundreds of things he knows without thinking. He just does. It is his poetry, his art. And he figured out a way to hang 3000 pounds of wood in the air.
That is my oldest baby. 6’5″ 240 lbs. He showed up and helped with the floor. Several hundred screws later that part was done. It is solid. I could build an addition on the platform. We upsizes all the lumber and the supports. The main things this project made me realize is how much I appreciate people who are masters of a craft and that I am older than I remember. In the midst of this work I pushed myself like I was thirty. Never thought much of it. I spent much of my young adulthood working construction, offshore in the oilfields, I have always been active. But Sunday evening I remembered those times where a long time ago. I can still do it but not for as long and I need some rest in between. Be Groovy. 🙂