I look out over my front yard, where I’ve had half of it seeded, wondering whether the tiny baby grass is going to survive fall and thrive into spring.
I peer out to the gorgeous woods, lush with fall colors, and wonder what winter will be like this year. Will we be able to cross-country ski? will it be one of those winters where the ground will be pure ice and unwalkable without cleats for most of the season? Will we lose electricity again (and along with that all cooking, water, and heating)?
I think about my mother and my mother-in-law — both sequestered from their families for the most part, buried in their own private hells, both sides my families having financial and/or legal issues hovering over their estates.
Sometimes, before I started taking my ativan, my mind would be racing so badly I would sit in my meditation and worry about what to do if the house burnt down right then.
There are so many things in life that can go wrong that you can become absolutely frozen in inaction, just waiting for the car coming towards you to suddenly veer into you or your dog to run off into the woods only to disappear forever.
I always bring myself back to the tree outside my window. It sits and sits — its leaves turn yellow in the fall, and then they drop off and it becomes a mere stick in the ground throughout winter. Spring sunshine and rains give birth to millions of sprouts all over its body.
It seems to just take everything in stride without question. My guess would be that if I took a chainsaw to it and cut it down, it would accept that without question too. Life to it isn’t about winners and losers, it’s about being filled with joy for the time it has, taking in all of the CO2, filling the earth with oxygen, finding purpose nurturing the birds and their nests and havens for the squirrels. Absorbing the sunlight on its upper leaves, feeling the nutrients, created by the bugs and worms at its roots, wriggling its toes through the nutrient-rich dirt.
Religions talk about humans as being the superior race, and if you’re not careful you can come back in future lives as worms, or some such.
I gaze out at this tree. In what way am I so perfect? I don’t get that at all. I feel imperfect, I feel wrong.
Today I have 2 inches of bills to sort through. Maybe that’s why I’m talking impending fires and catastrophes. Every bill is like a present — you don’t know if it will be a check, an innocuous statement, or an announcement that’s going to blow up in your face and consume your next couple of days to resolve.
I can always tell when I post without meditating first :p