Idle and Blessed

Our experiences teach us how to be in the world, for better or worse. Memories form the stories that we tell, not just to each other but to ourselves and about ourselves and about the world, our place within it. Remembered stories come together to form increasingly complex narratives, the intricate and messy and contradictory narratives our lives are made of. In this way our memories form the stuff of our lives, stored up inside our physical bodies and in our brain cells and neurons, reinforcing our identities through the manipulation of our actual material selves. Memories are...us.   Memories can be anchors at the bottom of the winter sea, holding us to the truth of better things when all around is barren and frigid and churning. Memories can hold out hope for us that what we see is only one inch deep, and below are living roots that sprouted once and will sprout again. Memories can keep us fed through the winter. But the thing about being remembering creatu...

I can smell in the air fall is coming. It smells like the color the leaves will be soon, which is also the color of the light coming in my window, slanting deeper and more golden than yesterday. I have a feeling I'll look up tomorrow and see it's winter, or even spring 2020. It makes me squirm, this pace of life that leaves me breathless, this whirling machine of life churning at breakneck speed for efficiency no matter the season. Fall and winter say "slow down," which is a problem because I don't think we are prepared to accept something so arcane. We are going to have to make our choice soon: fight it and work in the dark, or fall a little behind. But for now it's hot outside still.  September 15th. I don't want to hurry. I want to savor the last drops of summer like an upside down maple syrup bottle drip, dripping onto my tongue. Sweet summer, with its late nights and bright days and blooming gardens and pollen trees. Backyard stri...

What will happen when I mess this up? When I’m at the front of the room, and my hands are sweating, voice is shaking, messing up? What will happen when they find out I don’t belong here, that anyone else would be better, because anyone else would at least be able to stand up here and speak, as normal humans do, without the shaking, tenseness, tasting of fear? What might happen is I might be humiliated. Embarrassed. Unable to show my face again. Which means I directed my entire adult life toward something at which I’m an utter failure.  I think people will be disappointed in me. I will surely be found an imposter. People will realize I’m not worthy of their time, and they will ask me to leave, or they will leave me behind. They will see the redness on my face, the stiffness of my body, the shaking of my arms, and realize: this person is not capable of being here. They will sit quietly as the sides of their mouths curl up into a polite smile and they'll think, "poor gir...

Heart pounding in my ears Skipping LOUD then skip, then  POUND then skip, then Lungs not filling Air too thin Oh no, is this it? Sweat pouring down my chest My hands My feet My armpits, my back Too hot out here A blanket over my head The air all used up Spots in my eyes And blurry And narrow I blink and I blink Is this my imagination? Is it fear? Migraine? I can’t see the periphery My skin is crawling I am spiraling I will die No What can I see? Can I hear? Nothing At first, then  There’s a bird there And there, and I see a branch Root, leaf Hear the water Smell, taste, feel? Wind, a bug Footsteps quick Each one sounds different Rocky, then Crunching, then Crashing, and I’m hitting earth here Now and  Now and  Now Solid Good Solid, is good Can I feel the air? It’s on my legs Oh, my arms My face Good I feel weak Ok I feel scared Ok I fee...

It's a universal truth (and annoying cliche) that good things take time. A lot of time.  In fact, usually the best things take the most amount of time. The most common reaction I have to waiting is shoulder-slumping, heart-sinking grief, as if the thing for which I wait will surely never arrive. Is this instinctual? I notice it in children and wonder if we are born mistrusting the process. The earth turns again and again, and only after billions of turns do rocks or glaciers form. For thousands of days, it looks as though nothing is happening. And yet, good things take time. We know this because here we are, in 2018, living on a planet formed by long years, in a culture formed by complex processes over time, and perhaps still feeling like things are not yet as they should be. If you're like me, there is an existential groan in the waiting, while we work towards goals we cannot yet see. On a massive scale, as we push for a better humanity and healthier planet seeming...

The silence is the thing. And how the day moves with the sun, each hour slowly and slightly different -- but indeed, perceptively different -- from the last. The space out west is different. The sky takes up two thirds of every view, and the rest is long swaths of land - not the dense micro view of the forested land back east. I love forests too, and the way things are so green and lush and living there, but the winter in Colorado is a magical thing to me. So much space. So much air to breathe. You can see visibly the fact that as long as we are good and smart stewards, things are not as scarce and limited as they feel. There's room for everyone. And room for all of me. Up in the high places, every sound has a discernible source, and meaning. You don't have a lot to tune out. You don't have to tune out the overstimulation of the low lands and its cities. You can look and listen and feel and breathe long -- don't worry about getting tired. Y...

Brene Brown says, borrowing from Michelle Buck, that "we've got to stop walking through the world looking for confirmation that we do not belong, because we will always find it." I'm the most guilty of this. The MOST guilty. Brene says we do not negotiate our belonging externally -- we do not negotiate it with other people   --but rather we carry it within ourselves. And only when we carry a sense of belonging within ourselves are we able to confirm our belonging in our communities -- to receive and affirm our place in the world. Wow. It's a hard time to be alive in this world. It's a really scary and disconnected and maddening time to be human right now. Much less to be human within the unpredictable and uncontrollable groups of people we are asked to belong to! Our social groups, churches, neighborhoods, schools, cities, clubs, countries, yoga studios, etc., etc., are incredibly unstable in this era of individualism + fear. We have lost a shared sen...