one


A letter to another sister.

In my mind...

I have spent my life observing my thoughts, actions, emotions, and habits and only in the most recent years have I come to realize that life was living me. I have always been on this path but I have only recently -I am embarrassed to admit - settled here full time. At least that is what I like to think.

I have long been fascinated by the word love. What does any one KNOW of love? A word batted about, ab-used, substituted for action, an ignorant claim from the depth of despair. So, I moved on to integrity. I told mon ami that to be honest is to tend to the mind 24/7. Tending to my mind is a full time job. If for one moment I turn my attention away to look outside myself for change, my mind immediately presses on the gas, accelerating at warp speed down the gravel road, and I, tethered on the bumper of the pickup truck. All the while the "truck" races imagined demons while banging against pot holes and sharp rocks. The "truck" comes full stop, and I, bloodied, bruised, and broken beyond repair - raise my head from the blood pool on the ground - only to see yours truly at the wheel! I have no one to blame but me. 


After decades of these "joyrides", I am tired. I look back on them for bits of wisdom. And they speak volumes. Now I walk. Softly, quietly, silently, accepting things as they come as best I can. Sometimes though, I am right back behind that truck...

Meanwhile, On my property...

I am installing my septic system. The pictures show me riding my tank. Yes, some may say a horse is more suitable, but horses don't come in yellow. I am covering the tie-downs with plastic to minimize erosion on the strap mechanisms. 

This morning I woke to snow. The sky is clear blue. What needs changing? No thing, as the choices remain innumerable and to what end? Any fool can see that change occurs sans my permission. That makes me laugh out loud at how ignorant I am. I know nothing.

Thank you for living and sharing your BEing with me, for giving me an opportunity to revel in the splendor of your creative form in this gift of life. Words fall short of the meaning of you in my life, despite my ubiquitous use of them. When shall I be given the opportunity of your presence? Source says be careful now, expectation and demand are potholes. 

Popular posts from this blog

1/10/23

Image
On the property: Three piles of gravel block the driveway - 4 inch, 2 inch, and 3/4 minus. These are the layers of substrate under the concrete slab.  The form is up and squared, and the cedar log for the beams is installed, cemented, and leveled. The blue/green drain pipe for drainage outside the foundation is in the process of being covered in gravel. The rock retaining wall base is finished and its aesthetic top will come as rocks make their appearance.    In my mind: You, Karen, imagine that truth is s a thing which carries the name truth, and that it is advantageous to have it provided it is genuine....Karen is asking for truth, but in fact Karen merely seeks comfort, which Karen want to last for ever...Karen imagines that permanence is the proof of truth, that what lasts longer is somehow more true. Time becomes the measure of truth, and since time is in the mind, the mind becomes the arbiter and searches within itself for the proof of truth - a futile and impossibl...
Read more

four

Image
In my head... When I lie to you, I treat you as someone who cannot be reasoned with or related to. Sam Harris Yes, that quote ended in a preposition. Rarely is speaking as clean pressed as writing. Words are signals pointing out direction or possibilities. Choices are actually test questions. When we make the "make" choice, we "know." The wrong choice creates chaos that we misundertand as "bad" rather than an opportunity to re-cognize and assess the situation as "not ours." Dio On the property... I re-leveled the gate today after the boulder placement knocked the gate wheel rest out of its pocket. The picture shows the inside of the gate with the copper bar across to keep the gate stable during high winds. The door to the left is a solid wood salvaged door from gaia. The handles on the door are carved from a red cedar tree struck by lightning forming the zodiacal "Y" sign of Aries, the other half of the Y is on the other side of the doo...
Read more

two

Image
On the property... I started digging the foundation today. I dug and filled the wheelbarrow, then Mon Ami hauled the dirt to the terraced area. Quiet save the sound of shwooshing shovels and pinging pinch bars against boulder finds. We moved almost a third of the area. The rocks are stacked against the earth for erosion control.  In my mind...(a letter to one of my sisters) My heart broke when I was 14. You backed down the driveway in the green Pinto, packed with paraphernalia and nostalgia to cushion your travel eastward. Mannassass. I wanted to go with you. I was dying inside - my best friend leaving me. I can still see that green Pinto, the back of your head as you look out the rear window for imagined obstacles, the tires rolling, turning down the road, taking a left, then around the corner, then gone. I thought I would never see you again.  Your wedding came and went, and although I was invited, I was to stand on the periphery, watching and hoping for some acknowledg...
Read more