What I Know Now-Joel Glenn Wixson-Vaughan Mall-Portsmouth NH

A Final Note

Although my culture teaches me that cycles have beginnings and ends, my culture's science is being confronted with what it describes as proof of a different kind of reality. In this reality, everything is connected and change is the only constant. As theoretical physics and cosmology push further into smaller and larger realms respectively, notions of finite systems and closed loops start to disappear as viable models to describe our world. We are left with the ideas of constant change and fundamental interconnectedness.

As I ponder these ideas, I am left to consider my own flow. There are times when an eddy in a stream can seem like the stream itself. Side currents create motion that seems like the actual river, but are not. In order to insure that I am not stuck in an eddy, I remain on the lookout for obstacles and challenges that exist only in the main current. When I don't see them, I know I have to push off from where I am in search of the risks and gifts only the real River can provide.

The practice of writing these daily reflections has become an eddy for me, so I have chosen today, the end of the third year of writing, to push off from this comfortable bank, and back into the main stream. I know that I can't find what is waiting there for me till I do, for that is what faith is about. Thanks to everyone who has followed along. I have appreciated your comments, input, and attention. I wish you all the best in your many adventures. I look forward to seeing you all along the way.

Breeze

As I sit outside today, the freshening Wind rises in the West. It gets me thinking about how the Wind never really stops blowing. It changes, but the air is always moving, even if it is just the air I am exhaling. The breeze does not start and stop, it does not begin or end. Sometimes it is just so gentle that I don't notice it. Today, I will be paying attention to time when I think something is ending, when, in fact, it is just changing.

Cycles

My culture describes cycles as having beginnings, middles, and ends. It further prioritizes middles. I am invited to avoid beginnings because they are sometimes equated with stress. I am invited to avoid endings because they are sometimes described only as loss. Without endings there can be no new beginnings, and my experience has taught me that the possible stress and loss can be made meaningful through how I choose to take up these new possibilities. Today, I will be paying attention to the invitations I receive form my culture, and noticing when they do and don't resonate with my experience.

Alarm Call

I was so happy to hear Robin this morning, that it took me a while to realize that I was listening to her alarm call. Once I did, I scanned around to try to see what she was worried about. When I didn't see anything obvious, I concluded that it might be me. Today, I am grateful to be familiar with Robin and her alarm call.

Hawk Perspective

Cooper's Hawk and family call out over and over in the afternoons around the cabin. I can hear them talking to each other seemingly miles apart. Their calls take me to a wonderful time. I am reminded of last Summer, when they were so close and we could watch them flying off and returning. We could see them dive bombing each other, and see the you ng ones learning how to fly.

This is only one perspective on the Hawk calls. I have learned that some of our neighbors don't like the calls at all. For them, they are loud and annoying. And then there is the perspective of Hawk. That is at least three perspectives on one experience.

This gets me thinking about the abundance of possible perspectives that exist in response to any event. Each is important and valuable. Together they represent part of the tapestry that is Life. Today, I will be doing my best to honor all of the perspectives that show up along my path.

Difference

As I sat this morning I noticed a bright red leaf directly in front of me on Maple tree. It was so bright that I wondered for a moment if it was Scarlet Tanager. How beautiful it was against the green leaves on the rest of the tree. It got me thinking about the importance of difference. A red leaf stands out in late August, but not so much in the middle of October. So difference isn't just about what or where but also about when. Today, I will be noticing how when something is makes it stand out.

Pear

We have Pears that are starting to go. The darkness is starting around the stems. It occurs to me that the stem is where the Pear starts. From flower to fruit, the process begins at the stem. So it makes sense that from fruit to soil, the process continues from the stem. This gets me thinking that the progress of other things maybe isn't so mysterious. It seems that maybe it's more about paying attention to how things go. Maybe it's more about noticing. Maybe if I spend more time paying attention, some outcomes wouldn't seem so surprising.

Morning

During the warmer months, when there is no fire to tend, I can sit on the Western porch to eat my breakfast. This cool morning reminds me that the Autumn is coming, and I am grateful fro the time I have outside enjoying the morning.

Blueberry

The Blueberry bushes in front of the cabin are not mature enough to produce lots of berries. The ones they do produce ripen slowly, a few at a time. It occurred to me this morning that, although they don't ripen all at the same time, it is possible to understand why they ripen when they do. The fact that there are one or two berries on each bush every time I go out to look is not random. It probably has something to do with things like the amount it rains, how much sun they get, and where they are on the bush.

I don't know exactly, but I realized this morning that I could know. All I would have to do is take the time to hang out with the berry bushes and watch what happens and when. Keeping in mind that what the bushes did this year is slightly different from what they did last year and what they will do next year, the process of really understanding how the berries ripen would require a commitment of time. The gifts would be substantial, however. I

realize that this would be a reclamation of knowledge. I know my ancestors had this knowledge. It was handed down to them from their Elders and they passed it along. I believe that there are probably people still living who possess this knowledge, but I am no longer in the line through which it is passed.

This gets me thinking about the knowledge my culture invites me to carry and pass on. Knowledge about money and career, possessions and status. I'm not sure how this will serve me when no one remembers how the berries grow.

Gifts

As the Sun rose this morning, it shone through, under the cloud cover. The shafts of light created a bright glow that set off the steel gray clouds above. The effect lasted only for a minute before the Sun rose above the clouds. This got me thinking about the gifts that exist in every moment. The Sun brings gifts, the clouds bring gifts. I just have to be present to receive them.

Calm Action

I sit and listen to the sounds of the woods in the early morning, I hear the breeze. I hear the birds. I hear the insects. Though I know that there is much going on that I can not hear, what I hear sounds to me like calm. Then it occurs to me that there is calm in the woods, even with the things that are going on that I can not hear. I start to understand that there does not have to be inactivity in order for there to be calm. There is quiet in noise, the space between the sound waves. There is light in darkness. There is calm in action.

Beetle Squeak

There is a beetle in the trees to the North of the cabin. I know because of the sound he makes. He sounds like the squeak trees make when their limbs rub against each other. If I didn't know it was Beetle, I would think it was Tree. I only know about Beetle because I heard this sound on a windless afternoon, and wondered how Tree could be squeaking when she was not moving. I asked a friend who knows about such things, and he told me about Beetle. I am struck by the importance of noticing. If I hadn't noticed the sound of Beetle and wondered where the sound was coming from, I would never have known about him. Now I can hear him squeaking even if there is a breeze. This leaves me wondering excitedly about all I have yet to notice.

Worry Invitations

As I sit and listen this morning, I hear a Beetle chirping in a tree Northwest of the cabin. As I do, Cat Bird, and a pair of Cardinals join me. I notice their actions and see no ambivalence. They act. They fly, they hunt, the kill, they sing. They don't hesitate. They don't balk. I am struck by this, and it gets me thinking about the power of actions. I can accept. I can forgive. I can be grateful. I can serve. I can ponder. These are actions. These are things I can do. Today I will be paying attention to the actions I take and noticing when doubt and worry invite me to hesitate.

Humming Bird

Absent but implicit in the flower of Bee Balm is Humming Bird. Humming Bird is the only bird that can reach the nectar at the base of the long conical petals. Humming Bird's long beak and tongue reach into places no other bird can reach. The flower implies the bird.

Safe

Sitting on the plane home from a recent trip, the guy next to me asked, “You wanna see something fun?” He immediately began pushing virtual buttons on his mini computer. It took a while for him to find the file, but when he did, an image appeared. On the screen was a person and a paddle board. About twenty feet behind the board was a dark shadow.

It turned out that there was more than one photo. In fact there was a whole sequence. In each one, the dark shadow got closer and closer to his board. “I'm the Clueless Paddle Board Guy,” he said, as he described what happened to produce these photographs. He told me he was out on his board near a beach off the coast of Massachusetts when a drone showed up over his head. He said he thought it was out there looking for sharks since a seal had been taken there the day before. Thinking no more of it, he returned to the beach. When he did, he was greeted by the drone driver. It was then that he learned why the drone had been so interested in him. He stood on the beach stunned as the drone pilot showed him pictures of himself trailed by a dark shadow identified by the drone flier as a twelve foot Great White Shark. He told me the drone operator had shared the photos and that they had gone viral. That's when he was dubbed “The Clueless Paddle Boarder.”

We talked for a while about his fifteen minutes of fame as he recounted the titles of the magazines he had appeared in. I think it was People Magazine that had introduced the idea that he was “clueless.” He told me he didn't like being thought of that way, and we laughed about creating memes with his photos, but as we did, I kept coming back to one thing; he was alive.

One of the scariest parts in the sequence of photos is the one that shows that, after Shark passes him, it turns back, perhaps for another look. We talked about how surf boards can look like Seals from under water and how so many people have theorized that this is one of the reason why surfers get attacked. This lead him to tell me about the kind of board he uses. It's shorter than most paddle boards and not as buoyant. That means he has to be even more present as he is paddling. Otherwise, he will lose his balance and fall. As he spoke about the focus and attention required for him to do what he was doing, I started to struggle with the idea that he was clueless. In fact it seemed that his was just the opposite of clueless, and quite clued into what he was doing.

He spoke about how much he loved paddle boarding, and how that morning was the perfect combination of wake and waves. He had been waiting for just such a day, and was so happy that it had finally arrived. He said he was aware that Sharks were in the area, but decided to go out anyway. That's when he spoke about how important he though it was to live your life like you're dying rather than always worrying about what might kill you. This reminded me of the time I asked by a friend of mine if I would be devastated if she died. I told her that of courses I would, but it would be easier for me if I knew she died doing something she loved; something that mattered to her. Paddle boarding and what he experienced when I did it mattered to him.

It turned out his name was Roger, and he told that, in retrospect he probably shouldn't have gone out. He knew what he was doing was risky, but I kept coming back to the fact that he was alive. It was when he stated to ponder out loud why the life guards hadn't raised the alarm when the drone flier saw what was going on that I said, “But you're an alive person.”

It was then that we started to wonder what would have happened to him if the folks on the beach had tried to warn him about the Shark. Remembering the scene from the movie Jaws when the Sharif panics, rushing everyone out of the water only to find that what he thought was a Shark was only two kids with a fake fin, I said sometimes raising the alarm is the last thing you want to do. He said he didn't know how he would have reacted. He said that he would like to believe that he would have stayed calm, but we both shuttered thinking about what might have happened if he hadn't. What if he lost his focus? What if his concentration was broken? The outcome might have been quite different from the one he was living. The only other option for him for that morning would have been for him to remain on the beach.

All this got me thinking about how often my culture invites me to do just that. Every day I am invited to keep my focus on all the things that could go wrong; All the risks I face as I live my life. Metaphorically, my culture invites me to pay far more attention to the possibility that there is a shark in the water then to consider what I might gain from taking my paddle board out anyway. The thing about Roger is that he was not absentmindedly blundering into the water. He knew what he was doing. He knew how to balance on his board. He knew how to find a wave and ride it back into the beach. Had he known there was Great White in that water at that time, he wouldn't have gone out, but he couldn't have known.

The question I am left with is this: Will I stop taking my metaphoric paddle board out into the water just because there might be Sharks or do I go out anyway? Unfortunately, by culture's proscription is to stay on the beach. Today, I chose to listen to my own words to my friend, paying attention not to the possible Sharks in the water, but the value of the experiences I have when I chose, like Roger the perhaps not-so-clueless-paddle-board-guy, to leave the beach. I can choose to spend my life worried about the unseen sharks that lurk just below the surface, or I can notice the beauty of the water that shimmers just beyond the safety of the shore.

There will always be risks and there wall always be choices to make. Perhaps the most important thing I learned from Roger's story came from the fact that, even while the drone pilot was watching the Shark circle around him, he was experiencing an amazing morning out on the sparkling water. Sometimes what we don't know is just is impotent as what we do. Perhaps being “clueless” about one thing is what keeps us open to and aware of something else. Roger is an alive person, and perhaps he is even more alive for having come so close to a Shark he didn't even know was there.

#paddleboarderandshark

Knowledge

I hear a bird call in the North woods, that I am very familiar with, but I don't know who makes it. I am struck by this familiarity without having a picture in my mind of the singer. I would probably recognize the bird even though I don't know the song. This seems to be an unspicific way of knowing, and I am left wondering about how many other such knowledges a carry, yet to be completed.

Deer

Deer stands by the pond and we look at each other for along moment. I am simply grateful to see her.

Purposeful Heron

As I sat on the Eastern porch, Great Blue Heron flew by so close that I could see her long neck folded back on itself for flying. The Dog that lives with us saw Heron too, and lunged toward her letting out a warning bark. It was clear that Dog had no intention of catching Heron, even though she almost could have. I don't know why her lunge was halfhearted, but I do know that if Dog had caught Heron, it would have served no useful purpose. Dog was not hungry, and Heron posed no real threat as she continued to fly by. It occurred to me that most of what I see in the world outside my culture is purposeful. There are clear reason why things happen and equally clear reasons why things don't. Not that I know why Heron flew as close to us as she did, but our interaction was clear and purposeful. Dog told Heron she was too close, and Heron flew off. After that, Dog laid back down. I imagine Heron is flying over Spinney Creak by now. Today, I will be paying attention to the purposefulness of my actions, and finding out how much like Dog and Heron I can be.

Something to Look Forward To?

I was thinking this morning about the myth of not having something to look forward to. Having something to look forward to suggests that the something is a thing I know of or am aware of or can imagine. In that way, it limits me. If I keep in mind that everything is always changing, simply being alive is all that is required. I interact with this ever changingness all the time. Therefor, all I have to do to have “something to look forward to” is open my eyes and see what is in front of me.

Frog Peace

I was walking out to the woodshed and I spooked a small Frog. She turned and jumped away as quickly as she could. It occurred to me that my culture would say she was a coward. Maybe it was just smart. I was not a threat, but she didn't know that. Jumping away meant that she'd live another day, or at least wouldn't be killed by me. It gets me thinking that most of the time that is how potential conflicts get resolved outside. Competitors usually do their best to avoid each other. Makes for a pretty peaceful way to live. If I have the choice, I choose Peace over meaningless conflict.

Presentmindedness

As I sat I heard a loud thudding somewhere South of the cabin I absentmindedly thought, “That's a strange way to drive a nail.” As my absentminded state became more present, I realized it was Palliated Woodpecker. I was aware of the transition from absentmindedness to presentmindedness, as I felt my awareness of the moment awaken and I started to look for Woodpecker. I am grateful to have more awareness of absentmindedness and its effects and will be on the lookout as it may try to creep back into my day.

Intentions

Every experience is possible for me in my life, from the most joyous to the most horrifying. Each offers important lessons. I do not get to choose what I get, nor can I exclude one or the other. The only thing left up to me is my response. How can a walk my path today in a way that makes it more likely my response will be consistent with my intentions?

Great Horned Owl

I saw Great Horned Owl this morning in the Southern woods. The last time I saw him was on the top of Eagle Cliff Mountain in Estes Park Colorado at Sunrise. That's another story. I believe he is the bird I have been seeing flashes of for a while. This is because I had been struck by the silent flight of the bird I was seeing. I have been told that when Owl hunts during the day, it is a sign that times are tough. I don't know if that is the case, but I was grateful to see him. The possibility of him struggling gets me thinking about the effects of my actions. It reminds me that effects can be far reaching even if I am not aware of them. Today, I will be mindful of the effects my actions can have even if I don't intend them. I will do my best to make sure there is purpose behind my actions that may give meaning, even to their unintended consequences.

Laughing Call

Phoebe is called Phoebe because of one of her calls. It sounds like she is saying, “Phoebe.” Another sound she makes sounds like laughter. I got thinking I should call her laughing bird, but then I realized that lots of birds have calls that sound like laughter. Jay, Crow, Gull, and Wren are just a few of them. As I start to wonder if my Bird cousins are actually laughing, it occurs to me that I am just happy we share this laughing call. Today, I am grateful to share the laughing call with my Bird cousins.

Life Always Wins

Sitting out in the rain, Phoebe seems to be alone, chirping for her mate. We have found the Coppers Hawks. They are off to the East, but noisy as ever. We're glad they are back, but that may be why Phoebe's mate is gone. For the past several weeks I have been watching Phoebe catch insects to feed her babies. The insects were out gathering food to feed their babies. Cooper's Hawk catches small birds to feed hers. I stack firewood in the shed where Phoebe's nest is and disturb the chicks. Our lives all intersect in millions of ways as we each do what we do. If Phoebe's mate is now a part of Cooper's Hawk's babies, Phoebe may not be able to find enough insects to keep all of her babies alive. If Cooper's Hawk gets that surviving Phoebe parent, all the chicks will die in the nest in the wood shed where I will stack wood for the coming Winter. Whatever happens, though, Life will go on. Regardless of who lives, Cooper's Hawk, Phoebe, or me, Life will go on. I will work to decline the invitation to think I can know who should live, and be grateful for that no matter who survives, Life continues.

Change

Sometimes what I think I am supposed to get informs what I am looking for. My culture invites me to think about life as a cumulative process where success is based on the acquisition of knowledge and stuff. What I see is that life is a process of constant change. Things arrive and depart, knowledge comes and goes. Everything is replaced by different ideas and perspectives. I have settled into place of comfortable not knowing. I wonder what I will see when I stop looking?

Die Like Spider

I found Spider in the shower this morning. She was small, smaller than a pencil eraser. I reached down to help her out, and he leaped at me. This got me thinking about the fine line between death and how to die. If I was faced by an enormous being that I though was going to kill me, I would want to do just what Spider did, leap at it. My culture discourages me from talking about death. Other cultures believe that talking about death can help us appreciate life. Members of some cultures I know of learn a song that they will sing when they are about to die. It is not a sad song. It is a joyful song. It's message is, “I am about to die, but I am not dead yet. I can choose what I will do right up till me last moment. I will go out singing my gratitude for life! Whatever is going to kill me can take my life, but it can't take away the life I have lived! This is the song of my life!” That's how I want to die.

Small?

Real Maine Wild Blueberries are vary small, but so flavorful. We have a patch of them outside the Southern door of the cabin, and noting we can buy in the store compares to them. It is striking how much flavor can come from something so small. My culture invites me to believe that bigger is always better, but these berries stand against that idea. Today, I will be paying attention to times when I am distracted from what something small has to offer, by thinking that bigger or more is always better.

Noticing

There is a large bird of prey hanging out around the cabin. I know this because I have seen her several times, but only brief glimpses. This is because I keep forgetting to pay attention. This morning I saw a flash of her wings and tail as she disappeared in the wood just North of the screen house. It was only in retrospect that I realized that when I came out of the Eastern door there were no birds songs except an alarm call from the South. All the information I needed was there, but I didn't take it in until she was disappearing in front of me. I am left wondering what I will see when I have the presence to notice all that going on around me.

Wasp Lesson

There is a Paper Wasp nest near the woodshed. It is small. There are only about four adults tending the babies. The adults fly off to get food, returning and entering the nest from the deck above or through the shed below. They pose no threat to me, unless I get in their way. I have to remember where they are, and attend to what they are doing. I know I can't run she chainsaw close to them, or start the weed whacker under the nest. The noise would trigger an attack. I'm not sure why, but I know this to be true. So I have to pay attention. I appreciate this. I have found that most of the trouble I can get into happens when I'm not paying attention. Paying attention means moving at a pace that allows me to pay attention. In this way, paying attention ripples out into my life, and effects how I do everything. I appreciate these effects because this pacing keeps me focused on the moment, and helps me avoid distractions. The Wasps will be my teachers and remind me if I get off track.

Upset

If Phoebe goes after a bug and another bird gets it first or steals it from Phoebe, how many bugs will Phoebe miss by getting upset at the other bird?

Wren and Phoebe

This morning Wren and Phoebe were on the woodpile together. I noticed that Wren prefers the insects that are on the wood, where Phoebe spends more time flying out to catch insects on the wing. I also noticed that when Wren was singing his whole body was not evolved, where earlier I had noticed that when he is singing by his nest his entire body vibrates. Then I heard him sing a song I had not heard before. All these new experiences in one morning. This gets me thinking about how much I don't know, and how much I have to learn. I am grateful for another day.

Actions

Hummingbird shows up at Bee Balm for a drink, and I am enthralled by her actions. Her wings beet so fast as she flits from flower to flower. This gets me thinking about the importance of my actions in considering who I am. What I do moment to moment is in many ways who I am. This reminds me of the importance of begin mindful of these actions and their effects. Thank you Hummingbird.

Catbird

Does Catbird love blueberries? I don't know, but here is what I see. She flies down and lands on Elder. From there, she takes in the berry bushes until she located a ripe one. Then she flies over, grabs it and flies off. There must be other places she can look for food. This time of year the berries on our bushes ripen slowly and randomly. The bushes are not covered with ripe berries. This makes it more difficult for Catbird. She really has to look and locate the ripe ones. Why does she choose to work this hard to find one ripe berry?

Chipmunk

As I sit and watch Chipmunk eat Blueberries, it occurs to me that she is picking them just like I do. She isn't randomly grabbing green berries, nor is she looking for berries on plants that have none. She knows where the Blueberry plants are and she knows which ones are ripe and which ones aren't. She doesn't pick the berries that aren't ready, she doesn't crush the plants, she is careful and considerate and deliberate. It strikes me that I never really took this in before. If I were out there picking berries with her, we would be doing the same thing. In that moment, in terms of our actions, there would be nothing to distinguish me from her. This gets me wondering what else I am missing? How often do I fail to notice how much I share with those around me?

Cosmos

I look up as I sit outside this morning and look up at the blue Sky. As I do I remember that the Sky does not separate me from the infinite Cosmos that is beyond. There is nothing that separates me from this vastness, nor it from me. We are in a constant state of communion with all that there is. I will do my best to carry this notion with me today.

Now

My culture invites me to focus on what is past and what may be. Today I am paying attention to what is now. I am grateful for this moment.

Abundance

There is a small patch of wild Blueberries just South of the cabin. This is the time of year when I can go and pick some every morning to have for breakfast. I am not the only person who picks Blueberries from these plants. Later in the day I know that Chipmunk will show up and take her share, but at least for now, I know more will ripen for us to pick tomorrow. This gets me thinking about how, left to her own devices, Earth always provides in overwhelming abundance. More berries will come every day until that plants are done, then there will be other types of berries or apples or potatoes or something. I just have to notice what it is. I also have to remember that what is available might not be what I want. If I want Blueberries in March or Garlic in June, it might seem like berries and Garlic are scarce, but if I want Apples in September, and Blueberries in July I can see the abundance. This reminds me that real abundance isn't about what I want, but noticing what is. Today, I will be resisting the invitation to think that I have to protect the Blueberry patch in order to get my share, and remembering that if Chipmunk eats all the Blueberries, there will be something else. Declining the invitation to think only of myself will allow me to see what is available, and what lesson it has to offer.

Crazy Squirrel

As I sat on the Western porch, I saw Squirrel careening back and forth next to a tree. He was making tight circles, like he was chasing his tail. My first thought was that he was crazy. Then I wondered what he thought of me. I human who could dance and sing and jump up and down and chase my own tail, just for fun, and all I was doing was standing there watching him. It made me wonder who the crazy one was.

Thief!

I heard a group of Jays out in the Northwestern forest this morning. It sounded like they were chasing someone off. I have been taught to hear their call as, “Thief! Thief!” Hearing their calls is rarer this year. I have been told that Jays are struggling. It may be because of pesticides thinning their shells or that we are destroying their habitat, but when I think about their, “Thief, thief!” I wonder who they are talking to?

Cutworm's Strand

The strand that Cutworm hangs on is sometimes more massive than Cutworm was to begin with. My culture can not understand this. To my culture, a being can not expel something that is more massive that it was in the first place. Yet Cutworm hangs on end of her strand anyway. She is not bound by the limitations of my culture's understanding. This gets me thinking about the wonders that float around me all the time, like Cutworm on the end of her strand. And, like Cutworm's strand, they will exist whether I understand them or not. Today, I will be pondering Cutworm and her strand in the context of what I have considered impossible. I wonder what will be made possible by this pondering?

Sun Lesson

As I sat outside this morning a single shaft of light shone through the trees in Pine Grove. It appeared to be shinning directly at me. I could move my head from left to right and it would follow me. This illusion reminded me of my culture's invitation to think that growing my importance is a goal I should take up. My culture tells me that being important comes for attracting attention to myself and my accomplishments. The Sun teaches me that there is no one more important than anyone else. Sun teaches me this by shinning her rays on everyone equally. Today, I will be paying attention to times when I forget that the Sun shines for everyone.

Cutworm Faith

Cutworm dangles in the air at the end of a strand thousands of times as long as she is. She dangles waiting for the breeze to push her to a tree or for something to cut the strand floating her to the ground. She dangles like a lure at the end of a fishing line vulnerable to any of the many Birds flying past looking for food, but this is how she moves form place to place. When the food at one location runs out, she has to move on to stay alive. She could walk, but that would take days. Floating is faster. Cutworm's journey gets me thinking about faith. Cutworm doesn't know where she'll end up when she set out on the end of her strand, but she goes anyway. Faith is a reminder that I can't know what's going to happen. My job is to do the next right thing. What will happen next is out of my control. Like Cutworm on her strand, I reel out my choices having faith that the letting the wind take me where it will.

Snake Possibilities

On the woodpile were Chipmunk, Wren, and Snake. Chipmunk and Wren may have been hunting, but I could not see why Snake was there. It was too early for sunning, and lying on top of a log on top of the woodpile provided no cover for hunting. I generally resist the temptation to describe my creature cousin's actions in human terms, but I have seen more and more often creatures acting in ways that don't fit into the limited group of options my culture has allowed them. Snake didn't seem to be hunting, hiding, or mating. What if she was just hanging out? What if she wasn't doing anything? Today, I will be on the lookout for actions that stand outside of what I expect. What effect will this have on my ideas about what is possible?

Chipmunk Balance

There was a small Chipmunk hunting in a patch of grass just North of the cabin. I was struck by the balance she struck between having her head down in the grass, and having it up on the alert for what was going on around her. I admired her ability to find this balance between doing and watching, between action and vigilance. My culture invites me to be off balance, favoring vigilance over action. I am left wondering about the effects these invitations have on my experience and choices.

Sun Arc

The Sun's arc continues to rise and the daylight hours expand. I appreciate more light and the late evening sunsets, but more important for me is being reminded of the importance of every moment, light or dark.

Wren Lesson

As I sat outside this morning I saw a small group of Wrens. It took me a while to realize it was the baby Wrens and a parent flying around together. Is this how the parents teach their babies how to find food? There didn't seem to be any instruction, simply the parents flying from log to log pecking at whatever was there. The chicks were doing the same. I was struck by the power of this form of teaching. Not saying but doing. Today, I will be paying attention to times when I am telling someone what to and my words do not match up with my actions.

Eyes Open

I walk outside this morning and remember to keep my head up and eyes open. It occurs to me as I do that there is a certain pace that is required for me to remember to keep my head up. If I am moving too fast I forget to keep my eyes open. When I move to fast I only get to see Deer's tail as she bolts into the woods. With my head up and my eyes open I can sometimes get to hang out with her for a while. Today, I will be paying attention to my pace.

Center

My culture invites me to consider centeredness in a way that promotes an ego, and entity that prioritizes individualizing needs and wants. There is another way to take up centeredness that defuses ego. This kind of centeredness invites me into a place of profound interconnection. In this form I am centered when I realize I am a part of everything around me. I become no more or less important than the brightest star or the smallest leaf. There is no place for ego in this center, yet everything is there.

Bad Weather

My culture teaches me to think about cold and wet and rainy weather as bad weather. It occurs to me that a plant that hasn't felt rain for a week would think about wet weather as good weather. Rain is how the Earth brings water back to the ground. Cold is how the Earth slows things down and lets the land rest. Wind is how the Earth moves things. This gets me paying attention to how what is bad for me is not necessarily bad for everyone. Today I will be paying attention to how cultural invitations can inform assumptions I make about other people's experience.

Wood Pile

Here at the cabin, the firewood cycle is perpetual. This is the time of year when the unused wood from last year gets moved out so the newer wood can go behind it. There is a fare amount from last year to be moved, and looking at it all can be overwhelming. I find it useful to remember that no matter how much wood there is to move, I will movie it one piece at a time. Moving one piece of wood doesn't seem overwhelming. When I reposition my thinking in this way, the job is no longer overwhelming. Today, I will keep in mind that everything I do in my life happens the same way I move the wood pile, one piece, one step, one day at a time.

New Sound

As I sat outside this morning, I heard sound I had not heard before. It sounded like two wood blocks knocking together. When it stopped the familiar sounds returned. Then it would start again. The second time, there was a reply. These sounds seemed to move closer to me before finally ending. This got me thinking about how there are always new experiences available to me even in such a familiar spot. Today, I will be on the lookout for the unfamiliar in the familiar.

Moon Perspective

At this time in the Moon's cycle, it is up during the day. I appreciate Moon's perspective. A troubling thought enters my head, and I look up at Moon and wonder what my thought would look like from up there. Then it disappears.

Wren Lesson II

The Wrens are gone. As I ate my breakfast I noticed that there wasn't much activity at the birdhouse. I waited and waited, but the parents never arrived. Nor were they flying around the yard or sitting in the tree singing. When I was done eating, I walked down to the birdhouse and looked inside. The chicks were gone. This got me thinking about perspective. To me, the Wrens are gone. To them they are living their lives. They were here, now they are somewhere else. Today, I will be remembering that my perspective is only one of many. I will be noticing how my perspective can distract me from a richer experience of what is going on around me.

Wren Lesson

There are still three Wren chicks in the nest. I see them when their parents arrive with food. As I watch them, I know that they might not all survive and fly from the nest. This gets me thinking about my expectations. It is so easy for me to forget that today is a gift. Everyone I care about who was alive yesterday is still alive today as far as I know, but that can change in an instant. Today, I will be cherishing the people in my life, and paying attention to how taking them for granted can sneak back and blind me once again.

Same

In my culture it is essential that I perceive people who are struggling as different form me. If I don't believe that their struggle is somehow a result of choices or mistakes they made, choices that I never would, it might become obvious to me that I could easily find myself in the same situation. Today, I will stand up against ideas that invite me to separate myself from my struggling cousins remembering that how we treat others in difficult times is how I will be treated when it is my turn.

Wren Work

A family of Wren's live about twenty feet from the cabin. There are three chicks in the birdhouse. The parents fly in sometimes as frequently as every three seconds. It seems to me that the parents are working hard. This gets me thinking about the idea of hard work and the assumptions I make in evaluating the work and lives of others. Then I realize that I don't know if the Wrens think the work they are doing is hard. I don't even know if they think about it as work. Then I realize I don't know this about anyone. Today, I will be paying attention to the assumptions I make about others and what ideas I use to evaluate my life in relation to the people around me.

Far Away

When I was far away at first I experienced everything as familiar. I had to work hard to see through my assumptions and see what was new more clearly. I will work to pat attention to how my assumptions blind me now that I am back home.

Phoebe Life

There are baby Phoebes in the woodshed. We were not sure the Phoebes would return this year, but they did, as they have every year since we came to the cabin. And so, life begins again. This reminds me that my life begins again and again with every breath. A new beginning is given to me with every Sunrise, if I choose to see it.

Balance

Phoebe sits on the wood pile waiting for the insects to shake off the morning rain and take flight. Chipmunk skitters around the ground and finds them sheltering under blades of grass. On a brighter day, Chipmunk would be waiting. This gets me thinking about the balance of everything. Today, Chipmunk has an easier time, tomorrow it might be Phoebe's turn, the next day might be for the insects. I am left wondering how I might live more closely connected to this simple balance.

Man or Mouse

My culture asks me, “Are you a Man or a Mouse?” I know what I'm supposed to answer, but I can't help thinking about the times when it would be great to be Mouse. My carbon footprint would be greatly diminished if I were Mouse, and plane seats would provide ample space for me to be comfortable. In the end however, I am a Man. As I ponder all this, the Rain begins. A Deer who has been walking through the back meadow stops under a Tree just Northwest of the cabin. Eventually, the Rain seeps through the branches and leaves, and there is no more shelter. Deer moves on. As I sit and watch from the dry porch, I appreciate the momentary alignment of our desires. It seems that when the rain starts, Man and Deer and perhaps even Mouse all just want to stay dry.

Moon Shine

Last night I noticed the Moon glowing in the through the dew on the window. It got me thinking about how the shine of the Moon is a reflection of the Sun. Their relationship drew my attention out to a larger frame where, in that moment, the Sun had not set for the Moon. Moon was gazing on the Sun and reflecting that light back to me. I am left wondering what I was reflecting back to Moon, that Moon sent on to Sun.

Summer Blanket

As I sit, I notice that the white blanket of Winter has been replaced by the green blanket of Spring. Once again Vole and Mouse can make there way around the Forest floor without being seen by Hawk and Owl. This gets me thinking about how much goes on in the Forest that I don't see. The morning Sun illuminates thousands of webs marking trails where Spider has passed by. I am reminded of the abundance and ferocity of life that can go unnoticed if I don't pay attention.

Bumble Bee

As I sit this morning, I notice Bumble Bee bouncing off the screen. I remember that it was not long ago that we humans finally understood how Bumble Bee flies. It occurred to me that our lack of understanding did not effect Bumble Bee, who continued to fly anyway. Bumble Bee reminds me that the reasons why we act are less important than taking action in the first place.

Mountain Lake

Let my life be like a Mountain Lake that's calm and still and clear. 

Let me notice, in this patient place, the music there to hear.

Raindrop Life

Let my life be like a Raindrop that just lives from Cloud to Earth. Let me cherish every moment from the instant of my birth.

Forest Life

Let my life be like a Forest, 

full of Life and Death and Truth. 

Let me wander through the wonder, 

Without asking to see proof.

Desert Life

Let my life be like the Desert. 

Let it change with every day. 

May see that, like the grains of sand, 

Each moment blows away.

Meadow Life

Let my life be like a meadow. Let me learn to be serene. May I come to find acceptance for the man I should have been.

Oak Tree Life

Let my life be like an Oak Tree that will stand the test of time. Let me find my inspiration in the branches that I climb.

Fire Life

Let my life be like a fire that will burn for all to see. Let it burn as a reminder of the way I can be free.

Ocean Life

Let my life be like an Ocean that is deep as it is wide, and may I come to know it's wisdom before I reach the other side.

Mountain Life

Let my life by like a mountain that I choose to climb each day, and let me take the time to notice all the gifts along the way.

River Life

Let my life be like a River that can flow without a dam for the eddies that distract me from the journey that I am.

My Song

Let my life be like a song that I can rewrite every day. 

 Let it change with every second, as I learn new things to say.

Familiar Air

I opened the Eastern door this morning and felt the warm humid Air brush across my face. I am struck by the familiarity of this warm Air, and wonder if the Air finds me familiar as well.

This Moment

A man who meant a great deal to me died last night. Another person who means a lot to me is in the process of dyeing. This got me thinking that death is close to me right now. Then I remembered that death is always close to me. I sit and watch Phoebe catch bugs in mid air. That is death for Bug. I see Robin eating Worm. That is death for Worm.

This is also the continuation of life for Phoebe and Robin. Life and death are continually interweaving, and each unfolds in it's own time. Death will come to me as well, just as life has. Today, I choose to take up the death of this dear man, and the impending death of this dear woman as reminders that all I have is this moment right here right now. What I choose to do with this moment can be a testament to the respect I have for these dear people and all they brought to my life.

Infinite Paths

As I sit outside, I watch Squirrel sprint along a horizontal Tree that I took down last fall. Then I watch Cardinal fly nearly vertically up to a branch of another Tree. All this gets me thinking about the many paths I can take. The different directions my creature cousins travel reminds me that the possibilities are infinite, as long as I don't let cultural invitations about what should be get in the way.

Farmer Wisdom

Old farmer wisdom has taught me that the risk of killing frost lasts up till the first full Moon in May. That will happen late this year, so I see these warm days as a real gift. Farmer wisdom can keep me from thinking things like, “It should be warmer by now, “ or “When is summer going to get here?” I remember that everything comes in it's time, and not mine. That way I can enjoy some weeding in the coolness, knowing the heat will arrive eventually.

Leaves Change

As I sit outside I notice a breeze that seems to be constant. It cools my face and barely moves the leaves on the Trees. Then I realize that this is the first time I have noticed the breeze moving the new Tree leaves. The new leaves wave gentle in this constant breeze. I realize that the branches are moving because of the leaves, and that they didn't all winter. These are the same leaves that will fall in Autumn. They will be growing and changing constantly between now and then, and they will continue to change after they reach the ground. I am reminded that I am constantly surrounded by change, and I am grateful that everything is always in a state of becoming.

Bird Music

I listen to the Birds singing and it sounds to me like the Woods breathing. The it occurs to me that I breath when I sing. I inhale air and exhale music. This realization connects me to Bird, and I am grateful to partner with him in making music.

Tree Path

I sit and watch the Trees leaves continue to unfurl. They are still quite small compared to the size they will eventually reach. As I watch, it occurs to me that each Tree and each leaf is on it's own path. Each unraveling and growing and living and dyeing on it's own path. It makes no sense to compare them to each other. This gets me thinking about how my culture invites me to compare myself to others. I am invited to consider what I have done in relation to what others shave done. I learn from the Trees that I am on my own path and that my leaves unfurl as they are supposed to, one moment at a time.

Nurturing Embers

The cool of the morning got me thinking about starting fires. There is one thing that anyone who has started a fire with any form of friction, like a bow drill for example, knows; You have to be patient. The spinning of the drill creates heat. The heat builds until and ember starts to form. You have to feed that ember slowly so as not to overwhelm it. Too much fuel too fast will put it out. Not enough fuel and the ember will burn itself out. You have to pay close attention to the ember, and nurture it as it grows. This is true for ideas or relationships or goals or doing anything. Patience, feeding it slowly, not rushing ahead; these are all good lessons for avoiding getting overwhelmed. But I like to remember that even if I snuff out the first ember, I can always drill up another one.

Cloudy Day

I see a cloudy day, and I wish it could be sunny. Then I wonder what I am missing in the importance of a cloudy day. Just because the purpose eludes me, does not mean there is no purpose.

Fiddle Head Time

There is a patch of Cinnamon Ferns across from where I sit in the morning. They are about one foot high now which indicates to me that most of the Ferns are past the fiddle head stage. I could lament what is past that I have missed, but I choose to take up the reminder that I want to spend more time in the woods. In this way I decline the invitation to waist energy attending to something I can not change.

Leaf Love

The leaves on the Trees are beginning to unfurl in their millions. Each is new and unique, and reminds me of the more than seven billion people on the planet. Each of us in unlike anyone who has ever been before and no one will be like us ever again. Because of it's placement and position, each leaf brings something unique to the Tree. This is true of us, as well. We all offer something unique and vital to the whole of humanity. My culture invites me to think that there are certain people who are more and less important to the whole. Tree reminds me that this couldn't be further from the truth.

Today's Worries

As I sit outside this morning I notice that yesterday's mist is gone, and the Earth is reminding me that everything is temporary. I am left wondering how much the struggles I face today are compounded by my worry that I might also face them tomorrow?

Mist View

The warming Earth met the cool night Air and created a misty morning. My culture invites me to think that the mist is blocking my ability to see clearly. But what if I were to look at the mist? This gets me thinking about how many times the things I think are in my way are actually possibilities I am missing. Today, I will be on the lookout for the mist and remembering that, rather than blocking my view, it might be what I was supposed to be looking at in the first place.

Greens

It's is early in Spring, and I am already overwhelmed by more greens than I can possibly eat. I am struck by the abundance of the Earth, and grateful for what I am given.

Chicken Eggs

As I fry up two Chicken eggs for my breakfast, I consider the lives that could have been, that will now be part of my life. I consider the choice I could make to not eat Chicken eggs. I also consider the alternative of continuing to eat them, while acknowledging the sacrifice and it's relationship to my sustenance. Sacrifice means to make sacred. By choosing to acknowledge what others give so I may live, I honor their life and their contribution to mine.

Paper Wasp

As I sat this morning Paper Wasp settled into the palm of my hand. I know that this is the time of year when Wasps that are flying around are females looking for places to start nests. She sat in my palm for a bit, then she cleaned her antenna with her front legs. She circled several times then flew up, landed on my solder, then flew off. I have heard stories about Snake and Alligator where Snake bites Alligator and they die together in the river because, “Snake will always be Snake.” It seems that Wasp is not always Wasp, or perhaps there is more to being Wasp than just stinging people. As Wasp flew around me, I was conscious of her, realizing that if she was on my hand when I reached up to rub my eye I might get stung, but that seemed to me like a reasonable response to a possibly threatening situation. As I contemplate Wasp being more than Wasp, I wonder about me being more then me. Today I will be aware of assumptions I make about myself and the possible limitations these assumptions create.

Air

When I get caught up in my thoughts, I forget to notice the Air that I breathe. “How did my thoughts become more important than the Air?” Then I remember that I can choose what I pay attention to. Now I am choosing the Air.

Presence Presents

I am struck by the fact that presents and presence are spelled differently since presence brings me so many presents. The value of each and every moment is compounded by my ability to be present in it. It is a simple gift that I give myself when I am willing to do the work to receive it.

Peeper Lesson

Peepers are tiny Tree Frogs that sing out loud and long from evening, all through the night and into the early morning. They sing to attract a mate, but potential mates aren't the only ones who hear their song. Owl hears it as well, and she is not looking for a mate. The peril the Peepers put themselves in does not dissuade them from singing their song, however. If Peeper only sang when it was safe, he would probably never sing at all. Peeper sings loud and strong and sometimes a mate comes and sometimes Owl comes, but Peeper sings anyway. I can learn a lot from Peeper.

Feeling?

What if instead of saying, “I feel safe,” I say, “I believe I'm safe,” and take up the challenge of asking myself why I believe this?

Sun Attitude

The Sun has moved from Southeast to East to Northeast by this point in the Spring. This position means the Sun arcs higher in the Sky, making the days longer. The coolness of the last couple weeks reminds me that the position of the Sun in the Sky is only part of what makes the days warm. Air currents, Clouds, Water temperature, and a number of other processes factor in as well. This remind me that there are also a number of components that combine to make a good day for me. They include how I sleep, what I eat, what I choose to do with my time, and my attitude. If I accept the effects of the things that are outside of my control, and do my best with the things that are, my day can be as enriching as Springtime flowers.

Sunrise

Is the beauty of the Sunrise in it's description? 

What if instead of saying, “The sunrise is beautiful,” I ask, “Why is the Sunrise beautiful to me?”

Bird Symphony

We know that birds warn each other. An alarm call from a Robin is not ignored by Jay. But is it possible that Birds sing to each other as well? As I listened to the chorus this morning, it occurred to me that I might not be the only person enjoying how the songs blended together and complemented each other. My culture has invited me to think that Bird song is only about competition to mate, and warnings of danger, but what if it is also about creating a symphony of complex interwoven music?

Wasp Wisdom

This is the time of year when we start to see Paper Wasps around the cabin. When I see them, I know it's time to start looking around in the nooks and crannies for new nests. When I find one of the nests it's usually only made up of two or three cells with a pair of Wasps in attendance. I flick it off of whatever it is attached to, and it gently drops to the ground. The attending Wasps will follow it down, inspect it for a while, return to the spot where it was anchored, inspect that, then fly off to find a new place to start again. They do all this while I stand and watch. The Wasps don't attack me or buzz around in a rage or start to rebuild where they left off, they just leave. I am struck by the Wisdom of Wasp. Attacking me would serve no purpose. The nest is gone and stinging me would not bring it back. Risking their lives for this purpose would only make it possible that they would die and not be able to rebuild. That would mean that they could not create more Wasps. If they were to start to rebuild in the same spot I would just remove their nest again. That would be a waste of their time, and it would be foolish to build a home where one has already been destroyed. Going into a rage is simply exhausting. They need their energy to build a home for their family. So they fly away to start in a place that better serves the needs of the young ones still to come. I have much to learn from Paper Wasp.

Cosmos

As I sit outside this morning, the Spring songs are in full voice. I hear Rain, Peepers, Gulls, Crows, and so many Birds I can't distinguish which is which. As I listen and watch, I wonder about my part in the scene. Then it occurs to me that the cool Air on my skin is the warmth of my skin to the Wind. When I see the Birds flying past, they also see me. In fact, to everyone other than me, I am obviously a part of the scene. From this point of view, I am integrated into it, not isolated from it. I will hold this perspective as a reminder of the roll I play in this great unfolding Cosmos.

Bug's Return

I am excited to see that the Bugs have returned. I saw two Mosquitoes this morning, and I know that there are many more beyond my vision. They are a vital part of the chain of food that feeds all of my creature cousins. The return of the Bugs reminds me of the plumes of Moths we would see around the cabin during the warm snaps we had this past Winter. What was implied but not necessarily clear in the appearance of the Moths of Winter was the absence of Frogs and Turtles and the Spring Birds that rely on these plumes to survive. The Moths were born without predators, and gathered in their thousands to die as soon as the cold returned. This gets me thinking about what else is absent but implicit in the scene I see when I look out from the cabin and into the Woods.

Deer Possibilities

There were young Deer with Mother down by the pond this morning. The rising Sun, still low in the East made their outlines glow like the halo of the sun during an eclipse. My culture teaches me that the young symbolize Hope. They represent possibilities, and the chance of a better future. What is implied but unstated in this sentiment is the idea that our present needs to be changed. How did we come to this place where today is always the beginning if a better tomorrow? I am curious about the effects this ideas has on my experience of today. The Deer wonder off deeper into the Woods, and I'm pretty sure the Mother Deer is not thinking, “I hope these young ones do a better job than I did.”

Woods Words

Bird calls are the words of the woods. They are the most obvious expression of the forest for me because I love to listen. The calls most clearly convey who's there and where they are, but they also remind me that the forest is alive, growing, and changing every second, jut like me. I am grateful to have such a peer to travel with.

Choose

When worry or doubt enter my thoughts, I find that focusing on the choices I have to make diminishes their power. Transforming thoughts about what might happen or what could happen into ideas about what I am choosing to do right here right now, move doubt and worry move into the background.

Who is "I"

When I'm not laughing, I'm not letting my Spirit laugh. When I'm not dancing, I'm not letting my Spirit dance. When I'm not crying, I'm not letting my Spirit cry. When I'm not shouting, I'm not letting my Spirit shout. When I'm not breathing, I'm not letting my Spirit breathe. Why do I hold my Spirit back? Who is “I?” “I,” is the sum of all the cultural invitations that try to convince me what I should or shouldn't be, what I should or shouldn't do. I tries to protect me from the consequences of stepping outside the box, and doing the unexpected. I is the protective parent. I will never stop caring. I may never stop worrying. Thank you I for all you have done for me. Let me learn to recognize and cherish the Love in your protective voice, but only from a distance.

This Body, This Moment

As I sit this morning, the Air I exhale flows from me onto another purpose. The sunlight that reflects off of my body bounces onto some other surface, warming it as well. I am participating in a constant cosmic process of change. This gets me thinking about how important it is for me to be paying attention to what it is like for me to be in this body right here, right now. The change I participate in reminds that what I will experience tomorrow or what I experienced yesterday is not part of my experience of right now, but if I pay it attention it can effect my experience in the moment. Today, I choose to ask myself, “What is it like to be in the body in the moment right here right now?” Right now, it is good.