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color is not true, but that's ok right now. It's being OPEN for the Magic. The very visible kind and then, the soft and muted. Both. Magic. They work together to help us Know things.
tonight, under the water tub for the Doe Goats....two small tree frogs in the moisture there, so perfect with their markings and selves and so gentle, how they sat in hand, being Loved until put back. Emrie, who has so much to say lately, was silent.
a prayer for sadness that cannot be avoided, a prayer to continue to SEE the antidote to "unnecessary grief"....? What do i mean by that? Maybe self indulgent grief...Madia speaks to that
I have been thinking, yesterday, maybe the day before, Today. have been thinking what the difference is, Here, on this Hill and There, the desert of Polvadera New Mexico. All this might change, as i understand more, but for this moment, I think about how that Place in New Mexico....how i created it. I did. How it had been a place of nothing but sand. And i came there and i brought things and i changed it. So much, there was nothing. No rocks or sticks. I brought them. How it had been a seasonal flood plain for the Rio Grande River, long before i came and then when the Rio Grande was captured and held captive, it became nothing but sand. and I changed it. and the changes brought Response. But still, in a certain way were artificial. Un self sustaining.
Here, i am guest on a Place of Planet that has been its Self since time began here. Was lived WITH, in reciprocity, by First Peoples, but in reciprocity, was honored and lived WITH. Trees here are OLD. but young too, i would think, maybe how many trees have fallen and become Earth over time. Covering the granite that is underlying everything. How the trees now, tho old, are young.
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for the last month or so, Madia has permeated this world. In the evening, the pungence of her scent clings and remains present even all the way up the Hill to C. Everything continues to dry, now mid August, and will continue to dry on into November. Today, her scent was a little less. But to touch, strong. I still need to learn what she teaches. She has multiplied over the lower section of the meadow, along the fence line. And then on the road out, CareFreeWay, out and the turning right, up a ways on Old Olive. She is bordering us.
Green Tara, on the right wall. in a frame. The difference in the Sense of this place is surprisingly clear. It's the
frame.
it changed Everything. And now, we are on that Edge of too much. Nothing else can come In unless something goes Out.
reading again. Plant Intelligence and the Imaginal Realm Stephen Harrod Buhner
"once you come to understand, in your experience, that you are just one life~form among many, that you can meet the other life~forms here in moments of tremendous intimacy, it enables one of the most wondrous of explorations possible. To leave the human world behind, the surface identity of the self, and swim, only one life~form among a multitude, deep into the metaphysical background of the world is to enter a place where we meet there as living beings, identical in nature at the core, similar intelligences, all given birth by Earth, all expressed out of the Ocean of Being into form. And in those moments of touch, we look back at each other with luminous eyes and tell tales of the lives we have lived and the lands we have seen and speak of the commonalities of what it means to be alive on this Earth, kin, all of whom came from common ancestors long ago"
after waking this morning, i lived OutSide. I listened to Wind, that came and went. To Crow, overhead, 3 times.
i am washing my shirts in a bucket. When i'm done, i will wash my hair, my body, out there, where Wind still moves.
Inside is one thing. OutSide is way more.
gifted, these Black/White. The front, the back.
the second day of 102. Not unusual for August, here or in New Mex. but still, 102. A long day for Emrie and i. We spent the morning walking and sitting. collecting, arranging and naming. She collects things up from the ground as we walk. Twigs stones and rocks leaves. Today a feather. We both carry them. When we stop to sit, she arranges them and looks closely saying words she knows for them, lately being about size differences. There are Mama sticks and baby sticks. Leaves are nice and sharp and green and brown. spots. Today we added smooth and rough. pointed and dull. She loves words now. collects words. Did this till she asked for milk which meant she was willing to try a nap. felt tired. She used to nap for two hours...but lately, not at all or just an hour. Today just a blessed hour of silence and up again with hours to go till MomMom came back. We filled our water things and set out to B. There we ripped toad egg cloth and used it to tie the many bells in the small grove of trees where the hammock is, a couple on the cloth line right over the hammock and then we got on and layed back at opposite ends. Rocked and talked. she rang the bells. We talk about trees, their branches, how they move, about all the leaves, the Sun. The birds that ride the thermals overhead and the ones in the near trees that we can only hear, repeating their sounds. We feel the quiet wind that sometimes is wind, sometimes just breeze and imitate the movement with our hands and arms, blow softly with our own breath.
And then the buttons. All the last part of the day we looked at the buttons. Talked about the buttons. Arranged the buttons. Put buttons in the jar and took them out. Repeat. We never ran out of things to do and say about the buttons. When Momma came, we had come back from there for more water. Julian had gotten home from school. We turned the mist sprinkler on. Alyssia brought mexican food from a new place. It's food friday. Somewhere in there, i told Alyssia that that button jar was the only thing maybe that i would ask her to always keep. That i wanted her to tell Emrie to always keep, that i wanted Emrie to tell some other to always keep. I want to think of the buttons always there in the jar. Some taken out sometimes for use. But when that use is over, the threads clipped and the buttons put back . Buttons. From a time when buttons had meaning. From when clothing was made with care and pride. I thought of how Dana makes her table. Like that. French seams. Darts and gathers. Tailored. and then, the buttons.
from way back, when Jude was teaching weave. i remember making it...just because i could. I think how spontaneous things were then because everything was a First. I remember the feeling of that and the joy in the simplicity.
I want to make more of these. This, is how i can pray. And i want to make prayers . I want to pray for Humanity, for all Beings, for the Earth. In the last few days i have come to realize how small my concerns are in comparison.
i went down to B. Should have gone earlier. SUN was Center and white yellow. But i sorted and sat and looked and sorted.
Funny, i thought i had a whole storage shed of stuff, but really, no...one tub. Paper things. Art paper, paper and notebooks.
a single tub. And one of the flat under the bed storage things for doll figures. There's 4 of them. That's it. There are some plates. I can set them in the trees by the hammock. A couple bowls too. i'll see if i can take a pic of the Whole of it. Maybe.
so i am going to take a day or two off from here to first catch up with the really supportive and loving comments and also to acknowledge that things have shifted. To understand and acknowledge that Shift.
and Green Tara. She was wrapped. Now on the wall, Center, where she was There. and things already feel Her, there is
a gentle but strong vibration, a hum. What might living with Her Here be like?
i say that a lot. I love something, or "you", or a thing, or a doing, or or or. I say it a lot. I love _____. And thinking a lot about love as a verb. a doing. Emrie is helping me learn about what it IS to love. Sometimes today when she was really tired but couldn't let herself take a nap, she gets uh, well, a little mean streak shows. She pushes things across the table fast. They fall on the floor. She thumps her book VERY hard on the table. Throws a lego at me. Or, bangs one of my drawing pencils so that the lead breaks and i said STOP!, really loud. It startles her, the loud, it's not often at all and she is wide eyed, unsure
and in that moment, there is the possibility of Love as a verb. There is a Pause. We are locked in eye contact. I finally break the silence and say, no. my pencil. and pick the broken lead pencil up and hold it to my heart, patting it. My pencil. Love. Love my pencil. I say Emrie. No.....this time quietly. She still is wide eyed. I say Emrie. No...love love, and pat my pencil again and then say OK old nana,* ok and i smile and begin singing the Happy All Day song that is just those words, over and over to a non specific tune...she made it up.... and she releases and says Ok old nana and begins to sing along and after a couple rounds we go from there. Love. And i still have the cold and i think, after they have left, that maybe the Wall Garden will be ok enough till morning. I think to just skip this evening water giving. But then, i think about how i say i love the Garden. And what does that mean?, but how a garden is Loved, by the end of a long hot day, but
water. The word means nothing, the water means everything.
so we go. Me and Tay, Puppy somewhere on the periphery in the trees. All of us and in this way, it's Goat Love too. They find meaning in these walks of belonging. Talkie trails along at the end. They can't come in to the A space...i close the gate, so they fan out and browse along the creek until it's time go walk back up. And i think about how Love is how we live. Every day. Such simple stuff. But the weave is so strong and i sit in my 3 resting places on the way back and look up into the trees. Them too.
Love, Love. I pat my heart.
*i have had no name till this last weekend when we were all working, and she pointed, over and over to us all and herself, saying names, Emie, MomMom or Mama, Nana, Jenny, her grandma, and then from so long ago and from what Julian calls me, Old nanna, me. It suddenly had meaning to her. she says it O Nanna. Naming. Claiming.
i turned off Comments for last eve's post. We're just going to let things be. Figure out the best way to just go and
go.
it's just so uhhhh, unexpected.
