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?