SUNDAY AT HOME

I’m feeling a bit guilty, although I’m not sure that’s the right word. It’s Sunday afternoon and there are several events happening in Taos today. Shouldn’t I want to go to at least one of them? Also, there is a movie that one of my Facebook friends is co-producing about Native and Slave relations in North Carolina in the early 19th century. She needs financial support. There is yet another film vying for support that is about politics in our prisons and its previewing in Taos this afternoon. These are all subjects I find worthy but don’t have the means to support, and today I’m glad I have that excuse.  I am comfortably at home thinking small and making Strawberry Shortcake. PQ is watching Powwow flics on Youtube. While measuring out flour and sugar, I tap my feet in time to the drum. To be honest, I don’t want this comfortable flow interrupted by shoulds.

I intended to go to the pharmacy to pick up a recommended brand of cough drops for PQ. I’m not doing that either--maybe later. I wonder where this “you must do something,” feeling is coming from? Why isn’t it OK to “waste” time writing these words on the computer while the oven heats for biscuits to the background of Powwow music? Now I notice that clouds are covering the sun and it is very still outside, perfect weather for watering the garden and I’m not doing that either.

I step outside because I just don’t get what is trying to come through and stare at the grass out of focus.  I feel a sharp pain on my arm and involuntarily whisk the source off. The wasp tries to hang on but finally tumbles into the grass. OK, I get the point. I’ve been stinging myself instead of just blending with the flow of the day. My arm swells up and the pain moves in all directions. It’s going to remind me for several days that responsibility and covert righteousness is not the same thing.

Mountain Drama - Lots of storm clouds each afternoon, an intense summer.

Over the past three days, I took back the feral garden. The weeds were three feet high on the south side, and on the north two-foot tall grasses beneath which lay unknown scary stuff. I took the weed whacker and leveled the weeds to 3 inches. The next day I mowed what had essentially become hay, and on the third day, finished off by pulling all the tall wild grass from among the Hollyhocks, finishing along the edges with the weed whacker. As a reward, I uncovered decorative stones and flowers I haven’t seen for two years. This reminded me that lost dark places hide beautiful things as well as potentially dangerous things. I’m stiff and sore from head to toe, but it feels good to know why.

Maybe the guilty feeling is really covering the fear of falling back into stunned stuckness. When we returned from Arizona, we were barely recovering from the flu, or whatever it was, and encountering that wild green jungle was intimidating. Family responsibilities also struck immediately on our return before our feet landed right side up on the ground. Having three youngsters in the house on an everyday basis was too much under the circumstances, but their need was also legitimate. One stage at a time seems to be the message. They came by yesterday with their dad. We are trying to work something out that will be good for all of us. Isn’t that what this earth trip is about? Simple enough, but not so easy.

SUMMER IN TAOS

It is unusually hot in Taos. I still haven’t conquered the wild world around the house, although I splurged and bought a weed whacker. PQ tried it for a while this afternoon, but both he and the machine tired quickly in the 90 + degree heat. I accept the out of control foliage around the house in a way that I could never have done before. Everything in our life is different this year. The wildness brings back memories from a long time ago. I sit in the back patio and listen to crickets and softly whooshing leaves. It takes me to childhood under a cottonwood tree while cradled in deep grass in a state of perfect being. Nothing else is necessary when a moment is so perfect.

All is in the moment. Years are inconsequential during a full moment. It could be a hundred years ago, or yesterday or any time at all. The only reality is the sense of Earth functioning at her best and willing to share her being with me, and the company of old friends whose presence makes this

Shadow in Diminishing Shade

moment perfect. I feel at home with all the critters, even the weeds and tall grass.

PQ’s grandchildren are spending their nights and mornings with us this summer. Their dad finally got a permanent job and now has even a second job for several weeks. Their money drought is over. They are good kids, yet it changes our lives. There are two meals a day to plan and more expenses on our already challenged resources, but somehow I have faith that the changes will fall into place. It is obvious that we have to be here in Taos this summer. It is about more than family issues, and out of control gardens. Perhaps it is about truly being here without fantasies of being somewhere else.

Summer is my favorite season, even when it’s hot. My best memories are of summer, partly because there was no school in summer or more accurately, the school of life progressed uninterrupted during summer. The windows and doors are open. There is little difference between indoor and outdoor. The flies and bees buzz in and out because we don’t have a screen door. I remember long ago summers when after dark we went about the house swatting flies so that we could be comfortable indoors. All of that was in a world that I usually don’t think of until something like the long grass and quivering leaves triggers the memory.

PQ thinks I spend too much attention on the past. I always have, even when I was still a kid and didn’t have much past. I get something very valuable from reviewing. I’ve never been content with only now which doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy the present. It’s just that I want to enjoy it more than once. Even the bad stuff has more than one lesson to teach. The past is never the same twice. There is always the opportunity to find something we missed on the first round. The earth is round and so is life experience. No-thing really begins separated from an ending and vice versa. Surprises are welcome, not that they ever ask.

COTTONWOOD RETREAT

Here we are in Cottonwood and we’ve been here since May 19. We expected to go back to Taos last Friday but PQ was very sick. Now we are both sick. Apparently, we were supposed to be quiet and avoid running around. Thus, we didn’t do any of the things that we normally do but we did some things we normally don’t do. We tried out a Persian restaurant last week and today (Sunday) we tried a Greek restaurant in Old Town. Both were very good. Oh yes, there was a coffee shop/bakery that was also good but that was sometime last week and already seems long ago. That is how time is lately, jumbled, and although I look at the calendar, I can’t keep the days in order. Tonight is a full moon and the night air is very soft and soothing. I walk outside in my bare feet every few minutes to repair my bearings as an earthling. Yup, the moon is still where I’m used to seeing it. 

Coffee, Tea, Pastry and Songbirds

Taos can be an intense energy and it seems that we really needed a break. Well, I know we needed a break. You can lose your compass in Taos and forget who you are because there are always dramas here or there. They pop up like miniature geysers. We had planned to look for a little house we could rent but haven’t seen a listing for anything we can afford. My dis-eased body has probably influenced me today, but the reality is that we can’t afford anything right now. After paying first, last, security deposit and renting a U-Haul, we would be completely strapped to the credit card people for life and all would come to the same sorry end as our last effort to live here did, but we had more resources then. PQ is always optimistic and believes it will come out right side up, and I’m thinking that if this actually is what we should do the way will reveal itself.

PQ singing to the birds.

This is all a complicated way of saying we are at an impasse. I’m blank about the future, and this is probably where spirit wants me to be. Sometimes our human idea of what constitutes a meaningful life and where to live it is way out of date or something is changing up the road that we don’t know about. Maybe a rock fell from the canyon wall during the last storm and waits for us on the road as we come around the bend. I had this happen once, and I fortunately thought of that possibility just before that curve where fate was hiding. It pays to listen to intuition.

Ironically, a grounded approach is the best way to launch into space or the unknown. I’m emphasizing this because my tendency is to leap off the edge and hope for the best. PQ thinks I’m overly careful about money and taking chances but the truth is I’m actually trying to guard against my usual way of launching and hoping that maybe it will work out. OK, I’m confused. We are possibly at a crossroad and maybe the ground under our feet is tired of being walked on. 

In the meantime, we enjoy watching the mini-drama outside every morning whether here in Cottonwood or in Taos. The critters both winged and four legged have their own dramas and struggles. Yesterday, two lizards almost trapped a small snake between them but it successfully escaped beneath the rocks.  The mourning dove couple is doing the best they can even though the female has a broken leg, and the squirrels are aggressively harvesting mesquite seeds. We hope this satisfies them because otherwise they will eat our friend’s flowers. This won’t be on the news. Humans are very species-centric.

The plan is to go to Taos tomorrow but we need to get a headlight replaced before hitting the road. I’m not going to promise anything. The moon has to pass over Saturn to be full this month. Expect delays and Karmic trip-ups. Your plans will be challenged, especially if they don’t come from the intuitive heart.