Thursday, November 13, 2008


I took these photos yesterday after I planted about 12 iris around our pond. The pond is way down. Everything was wet and gray and decaying. Almost all the leaves are down and the Tamarack are almost done with their yellow show. I am in a lull business-wise...and in every other way, really. I had a great few days creating fun art items (I'll post them next) for Northwest Handmade
and that is where I am happiest. Here in my sanctuary in the woods. Creating fun things in my art room. Making tea or coffee and getting on line when the paint is drying (FACEBOOK!!). Walking around our beautiful property and seeing all the animals and loving them deeply. Loving myself deeply. acquaintance on St. John drops dead of a heart attack. Bills loom over my head. No orders on my website. I throw my attention away from my wonderful core of peace and detachment, and SHAZAM! I am thinking of the future or the past and letting fear creep in. I am not in the present, I am not in my true self, I am in illusion. But sometimes it feels so real. All the tools I have learned in the past few years to let go of illusion and be "in this world but not of it" seem to be just out of reach, in the fog. Yesterday I also made a new compost bin. As I dumped our organic waste into it today, I remembered how that in the spring, all this dead stuff will be beautiful soil. With worms! And I will put it on my garden and stuff will grow in it! And as I look at these photos, and think of Dan on St. John. I remember that we all die. It is no different from birth. It's a cycle. Our bodies die and we feed the soil and then we turn into something else. The energy of our life force is only visiting this body. The leaves all decay and create new soil for more trees to grow in. Bills won't kill my spirit. Fear won't kill my spirit. My spirit waits forever for me to remember who I am, and over and over again, it says "YAY!! You're back!" I'm back. Thank you, Autumn. Thank you, Fall. Thank you, Dan.

1 comment:

Natty-G said...

love how your took your (extra)ordinary moment and made it as deep, as old, as true, and as real as the earth.