September 23, 2017

I hear the voices of little children in my head, screaming with terror, “Mommy, Mommy, what is happening?”

I see the little white, well-fed girl and boy looking up at their mother’s face for confirmation that they are going to be okay as they both cling to her bare legs where she stands. They are in their recently landscaped backyard, with its sturdy play fort, the brightly painted jungle gym and swing set, now rocking in place, with sounds falling on their ears, sounds they have never before heard, almost like the growling rumble of some unseen monster. Continue reading

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September 15, 2017

I woke up a bit before 4:00 A.M., startled out of my sleep by a picture in my brain that I could not quite make out. I realized I was seeing tiny worms, and they were tangled together, not so many, but enough to see they were alive. I gasped in my sleep, feeling for my flashlight so I might shine more light on them in order to see. Then I realized it was a dream. I woke up, quite aware that I had been thinking on the powder post beetles I wish to annihilate in Pope’s old cabin, which is overrun with them. Continue reading

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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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Gratitude Runs Deep

Gratitude runs deep at this moment.

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Doing the Laundry

Today is January 20, 2017, and at this moment, in Washington, D.C., Donald Trump is being sworn in as the 45th President of the USA. I need to do my laundry in town, since it is damp and foggy outside and the laundry has been piling up for a couple of weeks. However, I remembered the Laundromat I use always has three televisions blaring, with no option to change the channels, and as I was not wishing to reinforce Trump’s ego, as well as those of his backers, by watching the inauguration, I let go my plan to do my laundry today.

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February 8, 2017

Yesterday, I put on clean clothes, and picked out a pair of earrings, long, dangling earrings that my friend, Marianne, gave me seventeen years ago, in Santa Fe, when I visited her on my way to California.  I rarely wear jewelry, yet, for some reason, I picked this pair.  They have turquoise beads strung on silver, and at the bottom, hangs a small bird shape, abalone.  The woman at the store commented to me how pretty they are.  “A dear friend of mine gave them to me years ago.”  Later, when I got home and sat down to go online, the first time in a day, I took off the earrings and put them in a small catchall tray I keep, thinking I need to remember to put them back with the other pairs I so rarely wear.  I stayed up late, all night, really, falling asleep, waking up, sitting back down, and trying to stay interested in some series on Netflix.  I finally went to bed at four in the morning, knowing I would get only about four hours sleep.  Sure enough, the alarm went off and I ignored it.  A couple hours later I finally let go my dreaming.  As I opened my eyes, I had the strangest sensation in my crown chakra.  It was as though the top of my head had blood rushing through it, and I put my right hand to my head, slightly massaging it, feeling a numbing sensation in my skull.  I wondered if I might be experiencing an aneurysm, but it was not painful, and the rest of me was still working.  The sensation passed, and I did my leg stretches before sitting up on the bedside.

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I Adapt

I adapt.  What other choice do I have? Below-freezing nights and days, both outdoors and inside the cabin, when it gets up to forty degrees inside this cabin, I finally feel warm.  When it got down to 12 degrees last night, I worried about Henry freezing to death. Continue reading

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Moments

His life was eighty-three years of a series of moments. The person I knew for nearly half my life, E. Pope Goodson, my friend and neighbor, is no more.  A month ago, I saw him for the last time, as I stood by his hospital bedside and held his hand.  For me, it was a sweet moment.  He looked at me and moved his left hand to meet my right hand, and that was all.  I laughed and said to his daughter sitting on the other side of the bed, watching us, “We never hold hands!”  I had been there almost three hours. Continue reading

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Staying Simple in the 21st Century

I suppose I must accept it:  my attempt to live simply in this 21st century is delusional.  Being part of these times seems so complicated, full of contradiction, and sometimes, just frustrating.  I am starting to understand all those folks who use alcohol, drugs, and other sources for turning off their brains in order to be here.  In fact, I fall back on at least one source daily: the Internet.  I have been on here since I woke up this morning.

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As Time Passes

Where am I this day, as time passes?  It all depends on the thoughts I hear in my head.  My routine is to get the hot drink, either coffee or lemon juice, sit down with the Ipad and log on to see if there is anything new happening.  As the first couple of hours pass, I see many quotes posted online, most of them meant to be encouraging, spiritually edifying.  I share some of them, wondering if I truly believe any of them, since, as time passes, I know the moment will come when the thought will pop into my head that defies all that I shared.  I am not liberated.  I seem incapable of keeping the positive affirmations for very long.  I am not practicing the self-hypnosis I need:  “Life loves me;”  “I am my thought.”  The one thing I see, a quote from Jiddu Krishnamurti, strikes me as the most relevant:

“The highest form of intelligence is the ability to observe yourself without judging     yourself.”

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