Posts Tagged ‘Perceptions’
Forget It
Yesterday was a day to forget. It would be nice if I could, but I have a tendency to hang on to the angst of things when they go awry. I like to bring order from chaos. It is one of the most rewarding aspects of my day-job. I can’t solve everything, but, if by the end of a day, I have achieved putting some things in order, I have a feeling of satisfaction for my contributions.
I didn’t have much luck doing that yesterday. I am wondering if it was somehow a carry-over of my not being able to bring order to the many projects going on at home, just at a time when I was leaving town. For sure, I was rattled by that discovery of a problem with the septic system.
In the morning, I woke over an hour before my alarm, and couldn’t get back to sleep. Of course, my mind was abuzz with preparations for my travel, needing to get ready for work, and get the house ready to be vacant for a couple of days, and to make sure to bring everything I would need for my trip. Also, there was a lot of work waiting for me on my desk at the day-job, so I went in early. I was thinking that I could use that early time to tackle one of the piles and get it processed before events of the day take over.
I never had that chance. Things unraveled early, and everything I seemed to try to get in order just became more chaotic. I had problems with my problems. Really, it was a total disaster. Maybe one of the most difficult days I’ve had, in terms of trying to bring order to chaos.
What can you do? I gave in. I let the chaos lay. I had somewhere to be. I had a deadline to be at the airport. It didn’t help that I stumbled upon a middle-of-the-afternoon traffic backup due to a stalled car. Really? Was this some kind of stress test I was being given over the last few days?
I sure hope it ends soon.
The good news for now is that I have arrived, safe and sound, at my destination, with Cyndie, in Arizona. I really have no idea what is in store for me today, at the introductory Epona workshop that Cyndie’s cadre of apprentices is giving. Maybe it will be a continuation of the stress test for me, but I don’t plan to frame it as such.
I am going to forget the day-job stress, and focus on the new adventure before me. Maybe the difficulties I have faced in the previous two days were just to put me in a place where I will get more from this weekend than I could possibly imagine. I’m going to aim to be open to whatever the lesson is for me here.
Lucky Loss
Throughout our life together, up until the purchase of our current property, Cyndie and I had never owned a parcel of land that amounted to a single acre. Now, we are responsible for 20 of them. That feels real intimidating at times. I am seeing an awful lot of things that deserve to be dealt with here, and we just can’t get to them all at once. I need to work on developing acceptance with not being able to take care of every issue I see, as soon as I see it, or I will become very frustrated.
That’s a risky proposition for me. I grew up in a home where I developed a notable ability to accept unaddressed issues. The kitchen of the house where I spent my pre-teen and high school years, was torn up when we move in, with the intent of being remodeled. My father put up metal shelves to store things on. It stayed that way until after I had moved out. It didn’t bother me one bit.
I have a recollection of there being a vice grip pliers to turn on the water for the shower in the bathroom I used. It seemed like a workable solution to me.
I have a dangerous ability to turn a blind eye to any number of things in my own living situation, that would strike me as odd for being overlooked or disregarded in another person’s home. It has taken a conscious effort to motivate myself to not be that guy who just gives up and lives with unfinished business. I have failed more often than I have succeeded in that endeavor over the years.
It seems counter-productive to be considering a strategy that gives me permission to do the very thing I am trying to learn not to do. Somewhere in there, I hope I discover that some sort of achievable healthy balance exists.
I did a short walk-around after work yesterday, to check on the water in our drilled holes, the remains of the smoldering brush pile, and a couple of evergreen trees I have propped up. I also walked past the second pile of root bundles, which is on the agenda for further burning, around the area marked for a labyrinth, up through the now-long (and getting longer) grass on the hill behind our house, and into the garage with wood overhead doors that are about shot, and log siding that is overdue for being re-stained and sealed. All of it on hold for the time being.
I did pass by the one tree that tipped under the weight of the last record-setting snowfall, which we are totally okay with, and have no intention of rescuing. I don’t think I have mentioned it here yet. It is the one tree that we were going to need to get rid of, in order to open up a road on the back side of the barn. We were talking about trying to transplant it, but it was going to be a difficult and iffy task with the equipment we have at hand.
Now the decision is made for us, as the roots have broken, and there is no sense trying to save it. We got lucky on the loss of that one.
…And I am very happy to have an item removed from our list of issues deserving immediate attention around here.
Definitely Re-acclimated
The weather has me on pins and needles, wondering when the next snowstorm is going to hit. I won’t feel safe until we make it two weeks in a row without snowfall. We are off to a good start: made it 6 days now, without new snow.
I had the opportunity to meet my friend Gary for dinner the other night, in Glen Lake, very much Cyndie’s and my old stomping grounds. Gary and I dined outdoors, on the patio. First off, it was just nice to finally be outside, without needing to have on a winter jacket. But, more noteworthy than that, for me, was the no-longer-as-familiar suburban sound scape. A motorcycle started up in the parking lot beside the seating area, the engine being revved with that loud “bap-bap-bap.” Shortly after that, a siren blared as an ambulance drove past.
I have grown accustomed to our new environment in the country, where I hear mostly songbirds, a dog in the distance, the neighbor’s donkey, and an occasional tractor droning in the distance.
In the grand scale of passing time, it hasn’t been that long since we relocated, but it has been long enough for me to become sufficiently re-acclimated.
The experience served to help me recognize how pleased I am with our new environs. As if there was any doubt.
Perfect Fit
Recently, we have been contemplating what we might want to use for hauling small loads around the property. I have been inclined toward a trailer that fits the little Craftsman mower tractor, over the big diesel tractor. I decided to see how much work it was to detach the mower deck from beneath the tractor. If it was easy, I could see us putting that machine to greater use, beyond simply cutting grass.
On Saturday, I consulted the manual, and set about pulling a few clips and washers. It was a cinch! But, I got ahead of myself. I jumped right into the task, without considering where the mower was parked. It was between the New Holland diesel, and a wall in the shop garage. The manual instructed, once the mower is detached, just pull it out from the right side.
Oops. That was up against the wall. I tried sliding the tractor to the left, off of the mower, but there wasn’t enough room. Soon, I had it wedged between the wall and the diesel tractor. I did what I should have done from the start, and fired up the big tractor to pull it out of the garage.
(While I was at it, I took the bold step of finally removing the chains from the rear tires. I hate to tempt fate, but am feeling emboldened by the fact that the last 3 or 4 storms of accumulating snow ended up melting off the pavement without any intervention. These late-season snow storms don’t last long on the black asphalt under that April daylight.)
Now that the mower was out from under the tractor, I needed to see if it would start, after sitting all winter. It took some coaxing, but it finally popped. I buzzed up to the house, and Cyndie came out to marvel over my accomplishment. I decided to give her an introductory lesson.
“In my slippers?”
“Sure!”
She did great, except being a bit too tentative when she left the pavement, where the snow stopped her progress and a rear wheel just spun in place. I don’t have any chains for the garden tractor. Yet.
After that, we made a run in to Ellsworth to pick up some items at the hardware store, and maybe check out a diner we had yet to visit. Last time I was at the hardware store, they had a discount price on a nice little trailer that I thought might work just right for us. I measured the opening of the hatch on the back of my car, and brought the tape measure with to the hardware store.
The trailer was still there, and still marked down in price. I pulled out the tape measure. It was close. Too close, I thought. With all the angles of the opening of the hatchback, and the addition of the wheels that would need to clear, I was pretty sure we wouldn’t be able to get it home in my car. The sales clerk said he would check to see if they had one still in the box. They didn’t.
I told him that I wanted it, regardless. I would figure out a way to get it home. Maybe this would hasten the plans Cyndie has about buying a pickup truck. Speaking of Cyndie, she walked up and took one look and said she thought it would fit. That’s no surprise. She thinks everything is possible. I voiced my skepticism, and pulled out the tape measure, to justify it. I figure that she can’t argue with the tape.
The clerk offered to help see if we could get it in, if I just back my car up to the front of the store. I accepted his offer, but felt there was no way this would work.
It rolled right in, rubbing on all sides, not a centimeter to spare. Cyndie beamed. I smiled. We went to lunch at the diner. They made french fries out of fresh-cut potatoes. ‘Nuff said. The day was a perfect fit.
Familiar Mystery
.
senseless
making no sense
unthinkable things
manifest
mangling order
illogical actions
forcing extraordinary reactions
pulling the rug
that was our foundation
of reality and reason
used to compare
with everything
sunshine warmth
breezy tree leaves
moonlight
stars
clouds
earth
waves
.
There are different ways to react to things that disturb a healthy normal. Sometimes all that is left is a new normal. Even when I don’t know how to react, my mind and body are reacting. I am tired, and I don’t want to expend the energy to effect any outcome. I ride the wave for a while.
The world is large, and the world is small. A breath is nothing, a breath is everything.
Being able to reconcile that, makes room for mystery. Hold mystery in the palm of your hands and find a way to accept it for what it is. Is it mysterious? Or, is it familiar?
Some days we are able to wake up and laugh at our burdens, the ones that we carry through our lives. Broken hearts will heal, if we let them. It isn’t always a function of doing something to bring about healing. It can simply be a matter of getting ourselves to allow the healing to happen.
We are all connected, to each other, and to everything, …our healing, and others who are not. There is always a constant force influencing the web of life, with pushes and pulls. So, the healing of one person has impact on all others, just as the wounding of one, pains us all.
I cannot make sense of the senseless. It is a mystery that is familiar to me. The wounds of the people of the world are the source of a pain that I feel. I will ride my wave, conscious to breathe, and allow space for healing to happen.
.
light
dances
on everything
subtle influence
of changing color
like laughter
a song
vibrations
incantations
gripping
intangible strength
a healing balm
soothing
a place
of need
.
Uncertain Outcome
And then there is the plot twist where something is expected to happen, but nothing happens.
Now what? Carry on as usual? That feels like such an injustice to all the energy that was put into anticipating the future that didn’t quite materialize as planned. I resort to making a list.
the periodic ticking of the hot fireplace
pecking of a bird breaking open seeds outside on the ledge of one of our log wall ends
clacking of keys on her laptop keyboard
gusting wind against the house and through the pine tree branches
radio songs from 1983
furnace fan cycling on and off
crunching dry food that a cat is munching
iPhone text message received alarm
distant whine, felt more than heard, rising from the base of the neck to between two ears
What’s happenin’? The unexpected non-event, that’s what.
Extend hibernation for a little longer. The explosion of spring will not be denied, but it can be delayed.
We’ll be patient. What choice do we have?
Disappearing Day
Maybe this can be attributed to the old saying, “time flies when you’re having fun,” but it seemed like yesterday did more than fly. It just plain disappeared.
In all fairness, we did get a bit of a late start. We enjoyed a leisurely beginning to our day, and then dove into chores to prepare for a late brunch with our children and their significant others. As the noon hour came and went, Cyndie and I stepped out to putter on some outdoor chores while we waited for the kids.
We made our way down to the barn, where we started the process of clearing the eagle statue and the rocks used for landscaping, from the area to the right of the door. We will be creating space to drive the tractor around the back side of the barn, and that is going to involve removing some dirt. Before we can move the dirt, we have to get the rocks out of the way.
We barely got started on the project, when kids arrived. After a brief tour to show off the fence progress, we headed inside to prepare the feast for serving. It was a classic “Cyndie brunch,” with her homemade waffles, and oodles of fruit. When the meal was done, we didn’t even clear the table, but retired directly to the comfortable seating by the fireplace, to visit.
With the afternoon sun showing dominance over the thin clouds, we were lured back outdoors, where we explored for something to do. I decided to see if we could get any of the branches in one of our brush piles to ignite, with the hope of picking up where we left off last fall, burning them.
The process of burning brush can be real mesmerizing. We made it a challenge to start the fires without any paper or accelerant, which I’m sure occupied much more time than any of us realized. Once we achieved a spot with some good coals, it became a process of finding the driest stumps and root balls to pile on top of the flames.
It seemed like just a short time, but when we finally dragged ourselves away from the fun, and back up to the house, it was almost 7 p.m.! Holy cow! Where did that day go?
The tough thing about this experience is, we can now see so many outdoor springtime tasks already deserving attention, the phenomenon of amazing disappearing days is going to become an all too common reality for us.
It’s like magic! Luckily, we like magical things.
Wanna watch us make a day disappear?
New Level
It is amazing how quickly we are able to adjust our perspective about things, when given the “opportunity.” When I turned into my driveway after the long drive home from work yesterday, I immediately had my definition of asphalt damage dramatically re-framed.
All winter long, I have been fretting over the scrapes and marks I have been making on the driveway, as a result of my crash-course in plowing technique this year. Then, on Wednesday, the first truckloads of dirt for our new loop created some cracks, and damaged an edge.
Yesterday’s truckloads made all the other minor damage a moot point.
Suddenly, all my previous concern over the driveway seems like much ado about nothing.
So, now it’s got a real bad spot. So what. We’ll deal with it. My previous obsessing over the condition of the pavement has been adjusted to a whole new level.
Meanwhile, the fill for the area where the hay shed will go is starting to take shape. Day 3 was again cut short by the afternoon melt. The project will proceed in half-day increments.
Temperature Perceptions
Yesterday, I finally got around to plowing the drifts out of the driveway, after work. When I finished with the plowing, and was working on cleaning the residual snow out of the bucket, I began to wonder if this might be the last time I will need to plow snow this season. It’s not a sure thing, but there is that possibility.
I have recently heard mention of the chance for more snow this coming Sunday, which would be right on schedule for the recent trend, but the predictions seem to be dropping in amount and likelihood day by day.
I will be much more willing to tolerate driving over a few inches, instead of plowing it, since any snow that comes this time of year tends to melt swiftly under the springtime sun.
After work yesterday, I stepped out the door without my jacket on, with the temperature in the mid 20s (F), and marveled over how warm it felt. That always intrigues me, because the same temperature in September would feel ridiculously cold.
Thinking more about the nuances of that phenomenon, beyond the common explanation having to do with thickness of blood, it is possible to understand other factors which contribute to the difference.
In the springtime, on a sunny day when the nominally measured temperature is in the mid to upper 20’s, many surfaces are absorbing that sunlight, and rising well above freezing. Feeling that sunshine on my face, as I stepped into the rays, brought an instant sensation of warmth.
If it were this sunny on an afternoon in September or October, it would feel equally as warm, or warmer, and the temperature could easily rise into the 60s or 70s. The days in the autumn when it feels so cold, as the temperature drops toward freezing, will tend to be cloudy and windy. If it weren’t, the temperature wouldn’t go down so low.
If it is cloudy and windy in the spring, the mid-20s don’t feel nearly as comfortable as it did to me yesterday. There is more contributing to our temperature perceptions than simply the number of degrees being reported by a thermometer.
Not that any of that is required thinking. Just step out into that sunlight and soak up the energy. Even with all the snow we still have on the ground around here, you can sure feel the warmth of spring in our air.
Beautiful Night
It was another beautiful night on our new property. Breathtakingly so. The richness of being here is almost overwhelming sometimes. Walking through our woods on the snow-covered trails, heavily marked by the frequent activity of wildlife, large and small, is an enthralling experience. It is a dance of life. It is a privilege and a pleasure, and a feast for the senses. The crunch of footsteps in the snow makes what seems like a thunderous cacophony announcing my presence, but stopping to stand still, immediately wraps the surroundings in a blanket of comparative silence. Just as quickly, subtle hints of movement can be detected in the increasing darkness of distances. Branches creak in the flow of cooling air, a dog barks somewhere far away, and the sound of a bird brings a sensation that springtime is locked up in everything here, on the verge of bursting forth in all its splendor.
I can’t wait to see it happen, but I wonder if I have the capability to bear it all. Part of me senses the beauty of this place could be incapacitating if I am exposed to too much all at once. There are times I feel like I’d be perfectly content to just sit down in any spot here and do nothing but absorb the surroundings to the fullest until my ultimate demise. It is intoxicating!
Relative Something 