August 21, 2017

I am clearing my mind this morning with writing, releasing all concern.  If I can pinpoint what needs clearing, I may manage to get through this next hour, so that I can join the global meditation for peace that is to happen in about 45 minutes, coinciding with the momentous eclipse.

A week ago I was in Austin, packing my car, readying for the run back to my home here in the woods.  I had not been on a trip for almost two years.  Recently I had welcomed a married couple, Garland and Michelle, to come live here on this place.  They had needed a spot where they could bring their belongings, along with their fifth-wheel trailer, to “live out their days,” as they put it.  I was so happy to have them here.  I worked really hard to empty out the only available cabin so that we could begin the improvements needed in order for them to stay in it.  They helped as much as possible.

Garland and Michelle had been here at least a month, so I asked them if they would care for my animals for two weeks while I visited Austin.  They said they would. “Have fun!” they said.  By the time I was leaving, I felt confident that they would give my animals the care needed, as well as get some work done on the cabin.

I called them a few times, checking in to be sure they were doing okay.  In Austin, it was terribly hot, and here in the woods, apparently it was raining, a lot.  The last conversation I had was with Michelle.  She sounded a little annoyed that I was calling, and I realized that the rainfall was getting to them, as it was probably a hindrance to accomplishing anything in the cabin.  The few times I tried to call after that last exchange, nobody picked up.  I kept getting the message that the phone number was not available.  I felt an urgency to get back home.  I drove 9.5 hours, making only two stops; I got in at 5:00.

As I walked up my drive, all of my outside cats greeted me, some of them crawling up my legs.  Once inside my cabin, the three kittens went berserk, yowling.  There was no food out for them and the water dish was dry.  The litter boxes were full.  My plants looked okay except that the cats had started using them to take the place of the litter boxes.  I felt alarm, realizing that nobody had been here to feed or care for the cats for several days.  I quickly fed all of them; I got back in my car to go check on the feral cat population and the dogs over at the other cabin.

Garland and Michelle were not on the property.  Both their vehicles were gone, as well as his tools.  All of the feral cats and the dogs were ravenous.  No one had been here for several days, as there were no tire tracks in the damp driveway.  I peered through the window of the locked 5th-wheel and realized they had taken the television Michelle loved to watch, as it had blocked the window through which I was looking.

I was perplexed!  I fathomed how they could have decided to just leave, but I could not understand how they had not been considerate enough to call me to say they were leaving. I wondered if they had experienced some sort of crises health-wise.  I hoped not.  No, they had become disillusioned with the plan to stay here.  They had wanted to start painting inside the cabin and when it started raining daily, they could not paint.  Doubt had bubbled up and they had made a decision to abandon this place; to hell with it.

Surprisingly, I felt no anger.  Better to understand early on that they could not hack it here, rather than later.  I just wondered when they would return for their trailer and the rest of their things sitting under a tarp under the carport.

Today is gorgeous.  I went to bed fairly early last night, and just as I was about to drop off to sleep, I realized that my old cat, Jigga, was pissing on the bed, right next to me.  He was irritated that the kittens were on my bed, and to assert his right to being king of the cats in my house, he emptied his bladder.  I jumped up and stripped the bed.  I picked up Jigga by the scruff of his neck and carried him down to the front door, tossing him out.  I took the wet sheets, along with some detergent, out to the water trough in front of the cabin and dumped the pile into the water, adding soap.  I vigorously hand washed the sheets, plunging them up and down in the water, then wrung them out slightly and threw them across the clothesline to hang overnight.  By the time I had scrubbed the mattress with vinegar water and gone to my other bed, it was 4:00 A.M.

I awakened around 9:00 A.M.  It is now 12:10 P.M.  The eclipse is starting.  The light outside the cabin is getting dimmer.  I will stop this writing now so that I can join the world-wide meditation.  As I look up from this screen, I see the light is brighter outside my windows; now it has dimmed.  Unprepared to actually watch the eclipse, I will have to stay indoors and thus not chance the impulse to look up at the sun.  I will clear my mind and focus on all the good that is part of this world and beyond, the unseen, the unfathomable, which is the source of All That Is.  Thus, I release all concern.

 

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