Boxes

The boxes I find myself in sometimes disorient me from the Directions. As result I am aware that I usually want to side that has a door to be facing East. For me, East is about beginnings. I am grateful that I connect the idea of a door with the idea of a beginning.

Falling then Flying

When a Songbird is in flight their wings are unfurled only part of the time. In fact, if you look closely, you will see that frequently their wings are tucked up close to their bodies. In these moments they are falling through the Air, just as I would.

Watching this gets me thinking about faith. Songbird doesn't know that her wings will unfurl in time to send her back up into the sky. Similarly, I don't know that my leg will step out in front of me as I am walking. Rather than worry that my foot won't be there to catch me as I lean forward, I continue to trust that whatever happens as I follow along my path will create further possibilities. I am grateful that Songbird doesn't let fear of what might happen get in the way of her falling then flying forward.

Frozen Possibilities

As the proceeding Spring warms the Air, the Ice melts on the pond behind the cabin. The melting begins at the Northern edge and opens up access to the Water beneath inviting the Ducks to visit. The safer water in the center of the Pond is still frozen, so the Ducks have to float near the shore, vulnerable to their predators.

Noticing this gets me thinking about how some possibilities have shown up in my life. They open up slowly like the melting ice on the edge of the pond, and they aren't necessarily safe. I have to take some risks, and I can't be sure things will turn out the way I want them to. But when I'm willing to dive in and stick with it, despite the danger the Ice of the unknown slowly melts away relieving the pond of potential (at this moment as I was writing the Dog that lives with us demanded to go outside. As I stepped out the door, a male and female duck flew over my head and landed in the small melted section of the pond.) that was there the whole time.

Words

In February, the meteorologist describes forty degrees as balmy. In March, forty degrees becomes chilly. Today, I am paying attention to the awesome descriptive power of language and the effects the words I choose can have on my experience of life.

7 Billion Geniuses-The Final Epesode

Love More

I have learned that one thing that supports the invitations to desperate action is the desire to be loved. I can not control how much I am loved, but I can love more. My intention is to love more.

Dog Knowledge

This morning I watched as the dog who lives with us explored the morning. She sniffed the Snow and the Air taking in all that was different about the day. This got me thinking about the gift of seeing the uniqueness of every moment of every day. I will do my best to follow her example.

Bird Songs

As I listen to the Birdsong this morning, I am reminded that each song comes from a being with unique and important life. Each with a path to follow and lessons to learn. I am grateful for the camaraderie found in this perspective and will work to remember it whenever I feel lonely.

Hawk Feathers

As I entered the screen house this morning, I noticed the feather left behind on one of the screens last Summer by Cooper's Hawk. I began to wonder if the Hawk parents would return this Spring. I return my focus to this moment, and wonder what I will notice.

Snow Tracks

As I walked back from the screen house this morning, I was grateful to see my bare foot prints in the fresh Snow. It brings my awareness to this past Winter when I almost lost one of my toes tp frostbite, but I work to return my focus to this moment where I still have all my toes and can enjoy the feeling of the wet early Spring snow on my feet.

Warning Wave

The first ting I heard this morning was the Ocean. Waves after wave was crashing on the beach three miles Northeast of the cabin. Next, I heard the Wind swirling high I the trees. I knew a storm was coming, but it seems that wind and wave were predicting the storm as well. This got me wondering if there might always be signs of things to come swirling around me, more subtle than strong winds and high waves, but there non the less.

Today, I will be on the lookout for subtle winds and waves cluing me into what is around the bend, and maybe just outside the limits of my imagining.

Morning Stars

As the mornings continue to brighten, I lose the opportunity to see the Starts before they fade behind the pale blue Sky of Early Spring. At first I become sentimental, then I return to a position of gratitude for having a physical body that can experience the beauty of the Stars and Sky. This brings me to a position of appreciation for everything I can see and touch and smell. I remember that these gifts are temporary, and will fade like Stars in the morning Sky.

Birch Buds

This morning I looked up and noticed a new pattern in the limbs of Birch tree. It took me a moment to realize that I was seeing Birch tree's Spring buds starting to form. As cold as it is this morning, Birch tree is anticipating the warm sunlight of Spring and preparing to be nourished. It occurs to me that Birch tee is doing this not because we are guaranteed a warm Sun filled spring, but because this is what Burch can do. Her limbs might get ripped off if her unfurled buds accumulate clumps of heavy late Spring Snow, but in this moment, it is the right thing to do.

7 Billion Geniuses-The Music Metaphor-The Effects of Progress

Sun's View

As I sit and feel the warmth of Sun on my face, I remember that the Sun does not rise, Earth spins. My experience of Sun rising is a manifestation of my perspective. The spot where I am on Earth returns to be shined on by Sun, then moves away and returns again.

This gets me thinking about how easy it is for me to forget that my experience of the world is only my perspective. My culture offers me many confusing invitations regarding who's perspective is valuable and who's is not. I believe all perspectives are Sacred and should be honored equally. This idea invites me into a position that is more curious and less judgmental. It also invites me to consider Sun's perspective when I am pondering the next right thing to do. Sun's perspective illuminates possibilities I would not have considered, and is not biased by cultural limitations.

Cold Air

Walking out the Eastern door this morning, I am greeted by bright Sunshine and cold Air. It occurs to me that Winter is waning, and that this cold will soon be a part pf my past. I settle in to enjoy what it brings me, knowing that soon, it will live only here, in these words, and in my memory, and in the Winter to come.

Thoughts

My thoughts were so distracting this morning that did not hear the birds singing. Even after I tried to hear them singing, it took me a moment to find their songs. This brought me back to the power of my thoughts and the effects they have on my experience of life. This has left me wondering if there is a different way to engage the power of my thoughts for purposes other than distraction.

Phoebe Egg

The Phoebe nest that Squirrel knocked down got covered up with Snow in the last storm. When I was shoveling a path to the screen house, I couldn't remember where it was and accidentally shoveled into it and broke it apart. When it fell open, I saw that there was a single egg inside. The egg was about a quarter the size of a hen's egg, and pale white.

At first it struck me as sad. One of the Phoebe chicks had not been incubated into life. Perhaps that parents had abandon it, forced to flee the nest by Hawk. I wouldn't ever know. All I knew was that I got to see what a Phoebe egg looks like. Maybe that's enough.

Fir and Feathers

In order for fir and feathers to work as insulators they have to be clean. No matter how hungry or cold my creature cousins might be, they always take time to keep their layers clean. This gets me thinking about first things first and the importance of paying attention to what I am doing right here, right now.

My culture invites me to think that I can multitask, and get things done faster. My experience is that I am only ever doing one thing at a time, even if I am juggling many tasks. My experience also teaches me that when I try to do more than one thing t time the quality of my experience of doing what I am doing is reduced.

My creature cousins remind me to do the next right thing and keep my head where my feet are. What ever happens, at the very least, my fir will be clean.

Cold Sparrow

Sitting outside this morning, the Snow pelting my face, I hear Sparrow's alarm call. She was sitting in a tree just Southeast if me. I wonder, for a moment if, she is complaining about the Snow pelting her face as well. I am grateful for the moments I spent with Sparrow this morning, but as I head inside and out of the storm, I remember that Sparrow will be out in it for as long as it lasts.

My culture invites me to think that being inside during the storm is the right place to be, but Sparrow's and my Ancestors sat outside in storms together for millenia before there was an “inside.” I wonder what gifts this discomfort will bring my Sparrow cousin today?

7 Billion Geniuses-The Music Metaphor- Fear

Apple Tree

This morning I saw two Deer down by the pond. I knew why they were there. They were eating the buds off of the Apple tree taken down by the last Snow storm. Loosing that Tree means we won't get any more apples from it. Losing that Tree also meant that the Deer had something to eat this morning.

This gets me thinking about balance again. There are so many invitations in my culture to ignore the side of balance that doesn't seem to serve me. I am reminded that I can never know the outcome of everything that happens. It might turn out that losing that Tree was the most important thing that ever happened to me. I don't know. All I know is that the Tree came down and the Deer got breakfast. The rest will have to wait till another day.

Balance?

This morning I found a Phoebe nest waiting for me on the Eastern deck. It was a large one that had been built up under the roof ridge on the East peek of the cabin. We have seen the Squirrels knocking these nests down before, so it was not surprising, but it got me thinking about the connection between Phoebe's and Squirrel.

Phoebes comes back year after year nesting close to and sometimes in the nests they built the year before. They used this one last Summer. Since we have seen Squirrel knocking the nests down in past years, I'm sure it will not be a new experience for Phoebe to show up this Spring and find the nest displaced.

Phoebe builds and Squirrel knocks down, and Phoebe builds again. It's part of how they live together. If Phoebe got angry or resentful about having to rebuild, it would simply be a waist of her time. Anger won't rebuild the nest, but it might exhaust her, or keep her from building the nest as well as she might.

My culture invites me to think that if someone does something to me, like destroying my home, I should get angry and retaliate. I am asked to believe that my retaliation brings some kind of balance back to the world. This idea is not born out in my experience.

What I see with Phoebe and Squirrel is this. When Phoebe returns, she and her mate will build another nest, sing their songs, raise their young, and fly off in the Fall. Squirrel will knock that nest down getting from it what she needs, or she won't. Whatever happens with Squirrel, Phoebe will return to build and sing and fly away again. That seems like balance to me.

Expectaitons

As I am about to take a step out of the Eastern door, I notice the Snow that is about to greet my feet. It appears to be frozen, and I anticipate the sharp uncomfortable edges as I reach down with my foot. To my surprise, the Snow feels more like cornstarch, and my foot settles down through it. My following foot follows, and I begin to think about the effects of expectations.

Expectations stiffened my body as I reached down toward the Snow. Expectations got me wondering about how cold my feet would feel as I walked to the screen house in the frozen Snow. Expectations kept me from noticing how warn the air was.

Today, I will be on the lookout for the effects of expectations.

Expectaitons

As I am about to take a step out of the Eastern door, I notice the Snow that is about to greet my feet. It appears to be frozen, and I anticipate the sharp uncomfortable edges as I reach down with my foot. To my surprise, the Snow feels more like cornstarch, and my foot settles down through it. My following foot follows, and I begin to think about the effects of expectations.

Expectations stiffened my body as I reached down toward the Snow. Expectations got me wondering about how cold my feet would feel as I walked to the screen house in the frozen Snow. Expectations kept me from noticing how warn the air was.

Today, I will be on the lookout for the effects of expectations.

Work

I look around the cabin and notice all the downed Trees and stressed Shrubs. There is a lot of work to do to clean up after our last storm. If I think about doing it all at once, I get overwhelmed. But if I only focus on the task at hand, it all seems manageable. So I return my focus to cutting up the Strawberries I froze last summer. I will pile them on my breakfast and let the Trees wait till the Snow melts.

Snow

I sit in humble amazement of the wonder of the Earth. I work to avoid the distractions of an assessment based solely on my personal needs. I will move the Snow not because it has to be moved, but because in order for me to do what I choose to do, it will have to move. It is beautiful none the less.

Another Storm

Another storm looms and I think about the things we do here at the cabin to prepare. Water jugs filled, extra wood laid in, and all the dishes clean. This gets me thinking about the difference between living in the future and planning for it. Living in the future has no effect. It simply cultivates worry and fear. Planning for the future is about actions. I'll bring the wood in and fill the water jugs. If the storm comes we will be ready, if it doesn't, at least all the dishes will be clean.

Abilities

This morning, I am grateful for abilities. I have the ability to release stress that is a part of the future, the past, or my imagination. Whether I do or not is up to me.

Cold

I got to sleep outside last night. The distant sound of waves lulled me to sleep. I was struck by the effects sleeping outside had in my experience of temperature. I found it quite pleasant this morning walking back to the cabin, even though it was thirty degrees out. I am struck by how much my experience of what is is connected to what was.

7 Billion Geniuses-The Music Metaphor-"Healing" Part II

Wind

I hear the song of the Wind, but I do not understand it. Is that because I can not, or I will not?

Cherry Tree

The cabin is solid. Unlike a stick frame house, the cabin is built from big solid logs. They don't move. Even still, yesterday evening, when the winds were gusting upwards of 60 miles per hour, she creaked. Only once, but she did.

Even in the midst of that kind of wind, the old Cherry tree in the back still stands. The wind was strong enough to sway her bare branches, but not wild enough to topple her. This morning I see her, still standing back by the pond.

She got me thinking about the idea of being old and strong. My culture teaches me that being old is bad, and that once I passed thirty, I was in decline. Cherry tree reminds me that I can be old and strong; that the beauty of being old isn't the same as the beauty of being young, but it is still beauty.

Cherry stands beautiful and old, and still strong enough to get through all that life has blown at her so far. Thanks Cheery tree for reminding me that I have, too.

Listening to Rain

I sit in my spot this morning in the Rain and Wind. At times I hear Wind howl and blow the Rain sideways. The forecast says the storm will get worse with higher winds and driving rain. That is not happening now. I find ideas about what might be distracting me from what is. I let the sound of Wind and Rain bring me back to what is happening right now and let what will be take care of itself.

Clean Your Bowl

There is a Zen koan about cleaning your bowl. It is, in some ways, about doing the next right thing. This morning I had to clean my bowl for breakfast. I was struck by how often thinking about writing about my experience got in the way of me attending to my experience.

Now I will eat my breakfast.