This morning I mistook Phoebe's call for Hawk. Wind rustles Tree tops and I realize I am looking too hard for today's lesson. Today, I will be working hard to wait patiently, and stop looking.
Wednesday, September 20, 2017
Wind bends the tree tops as the storm passes to the South and East. The display is powerful but inconsequential compared to what is happening further South. Today, I am walking in a place of gratitude as I consider the problems I don't have to deal with today.
Tuesday, September 19, 2017
The first thing I heard this morning as I walked out onto the Eastern deck was Acorn falling. I looked up and, sure enough, Squirrel was up in Oak tree sending nuts to the ground. It had been weeks since this process began. Day after day, Squirrel has been climbing up into Oak tree, harvesting Acorns, and sending them Earthward. One by one they fall, accumulating beneath the tree to be buried, or lost, or stolen by Chipmunk.
I was struck by Squirrel's … Squirrel's what? Was it persistence? Was it hard work? These questions got me thinking. Squirrel didn't stay up in the tree for the whole day picking every Acorn she could find. She didn't toil for hours on end. Squirrel wasn't planing for the worst, making sure she had downed enough nuts to get her through a possible difficult Winter. She didn't even seem concerned that Chipmunk was stealing part of what she had dropped. What was it that let Squirrel know she was done for the day? What was it that brought her back again to harvest more on subsequent days? How did she know she when had done enough?
Today, I will be paying attention to ideas that suggest that I can not be prepared enough, or that I have to be concerned about all the potential problems that I could encounter down the road. I will be doing my best to keep my head where my feet are remember that there is something about how Squirrel does what she does that keeps her, first and foremost, from falling out of the tree.
Monday, September 18, 2017
We call the dog that lives with us Brichy. In the morning when I head out to the front porch to eat my breakfast, she likes to come along. She takes her time, though. When I am ready to go, I open the front door, and wait for a bit. Eventually, she ambles around this corner or that depending on where she was lying. She stops and looks at me, and I say something like, “Let's go.” There is no predicting what she does next. She might start for the living room, or head around the back side of the island in the kitchen. Whatever she does, it is usually the least direct root out the door.. Now you may be wondering if she actually wants to come out with me. I don't know, but I can tell you that if I leave her inside, she mopes at the door and whines until I come back and get her. I do know tat she likes to be chased. In fact she like to turn just bout anything into a chase or into a game. I appreciate this about her. She seems to enjoy turning everything into something fun.
This gets me thinking about how I might do more of that myself. Birchy has the ability to turn walking out the door into a game. I usually just walk out the door. Today, I will be paying attention to times when I can turn what I'm doing into a game and see what effect it has on my experience.
Sunday, September 17, 2017
As I rounded the Northwestern corner of the cabin, I saw two Deer having a snack over by the North stonewall. Turning to the East I saw Phoebe resting on Apple tree. Looking back to the Northwest to check on Deer, I saw Squirrels chasing each other. In that moment it occurred to me that nothing about this day was dissimilar to a Spring day. Then I realized that every day contains the four cycles of Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter. A Spring of possibilities, a Summer of action, a Fall of contemplation, and a Winter of rest happen each day regardless the season.
This got me thinking that there is a difference between getting old and being old. Getting old happens as a result of the passage of seasons, be they diurnal or annual. Being old is result of choices I make. This gets me thinking that I have the power to participate in what old will be for me. I can choose to see wrinkles as a symbol of what I was, or as a testament to what I have become. I can count on changing, but how I understand those changes is up to me.
Today, I will be paying attention to times when cultural assumptions leak in and attempt to modify the preferences I have about how I see myself and the world around me.
Saturday, September 16, 2017
As I opened the Eastern door of the cabin and stepped out, Acorn fell from Oak tree. I looked up to see Squirrel clambering through the branches. The morning was warm and thick. A good day to be lazy, I thought. Just rolling along. Nothing out of the ordinary.
By this time I was in the screen house, and heard a splash on the old Cow pond. Louder than duck, I thought, craning my head to see past the plants that blocked my view. I saw a black bird hit the water, but only briefly as it was lost behind a bush. Cormorant? Loon? If it was Cormorant she would swim to the log and climb out. I adjusted my view to see the log and, sure enough, there she was fluffing out her soaked feathers.
As I watched her fly and drop and swim and climb back onto the log to look around, I thought about how quickly my morning had turned from familiar to extraordinary. I had never seen Cormorant on the pond before. Just when I thought I would settle down to a morning of same she made it different.
Cormorant reminds me that I can never know when the landscape of my path will transform. She gets me thinking that perhaps the sameness that I was experiencing before she showed up was more about what I was paying attention to and not what was actually going on around me.
Today, I will keep my head up and my eyes open as the landscape of my path unfolds in front of me. What will I notice and what will it take to shake me out of the illusion of sameness that might overtake me?