The Enigma of Time

Time has a way of continuing to move on. It doesn't matter if we are moving with it, or if we are watching it go past from our easy chair. 

When I am in Florida, as I am now, time has a different quality to it than it does back in Vermont. Despite being here for several months, there is something of "vacation" about my time here. I struggle against this, by transporting my kombucha scoby and sourdough starter 1,434 miles, and making meals from scratch, despite the prevalence of dining options within walking distance once I arrive. I walk every day as I do back home, but here I have the luxury of choosing to walk on a beach or a palm-shaded path. I read the news and do the New York Times puzzles, but when I glance up and away from the screen, the inland waterway is glistening right in front of me, boats lazily making their way out to the sea for the day, and, just beyond them, the golf course stretches as far as I can see.

Florida wants to teach me how to slow down. It wants me to notice the beauty of a white bird foraging for bugs, a manatee swimming by, flowers in full bloom despite winter's chill, lizards darting across my path when I least expect them. I want to comply, I really do, and I think there is a part of me that might be starting to let time to flow by me or through me, but there is a greater part of me that still wrestles with it. There is something within me that assumes it is important to create meaning in every moment. There is a part of me that wants to prove I have achieved something with each day granted. 

I imagine that someday I will discover that there is a balance between the two, a balance between achieving and learning how to appreciate and embrace the beauty of each moment. Maybe this is the year I will take the lesson to heart.

No ICE, Thank You

 

I have not always felt this way

about ice

no strong opinions

on whether a drink needs a cube

or not

but now,

now that ice means 

terror

violence

even death

to anyone who disagrees

who says "not in my town"...

now i have a strong opinion

about ice

I do not want any

As Gary and I sat eating our breakfast, we talked about the importance of doing what is ours to do in this critical moment. There are many ways to protest, to stand up for our neighbors, and to speak up for justice. The key for each of us is to figure out what is our particular way of making a point against the dismantling of democracy and the concomitant power grab that is going on.

Today, as I write this, there is a call for a national strike - no work, no school, no shopping. It got me thinking about other ways we can cast our vote for democracy. Other actions that might be noticed, if enough of us participated.

I turned to Gary and said, "what if, when getting a drink at a restaurant, or cafe, pub, or party, we simply said, 'No ice, thank you.' Would that make a point?"

"Wow! It sure would, especially if it caught on."

Maybe I am getting ahead of myself, but I can see something like this spreading across the country. If everyone who disagreed with what ICE is doing put a hand over their glass at every opportunity, and said, 'no ice, thank you', it could be a reminder that we can choose to say no.

This may not make a difference to the powers that are attempting to unravel our country's integrity and systems of justice, but it would be a way to signal to our friends, neighbors and the folks we interact with, that we stand against the cruelty and violence that ICE is perpetrating in our communities. More importantly, it would be a way of reminding ourselves.

So Much Space: An Exercise in Trust

 

So much space

expanses of time

breathing room, for sure

but for what?

Leaving work life

I imagined

opportunities 

unfurling at my feet

showing themselves

in splendor and possibility.

I find myself 

weighing the choices

looking far down each path

but more unsure than Frost

which one is for me

where my destiny lay

that "one wild"

and don't forget, 

"precious" life

I long for

and imagined

was searching for me.

Now,

here I stand

arms open

expectant

heart welcoming

daring to hope

seeking a glimpse

of what may come

into this space

that is my life

Trees and I

I have a fondness for trees, 

a relationship, really

as it goes both ways

between trees and me

as I walk through the woods,

it is common 

for me to speak 

to the trees as I pass

reserving particular attention

for the elders,

those who have been around

for a while

wisdom seeps into me

as I walk by

reaching out

to caress the bark

of sister Pine

as I prepare to step over the stream

to touch the leaves

clinging to brother Oak

despite winter's chilly winds 

The quiet

the peace

soaking into me

in the forest depths

heals something within

that I did not know needed healing

 

In This Moment

In this moment

all seems well

I am warm and well fed

I have a place to lay my head down

In this moment

I have all that I need

but if I look beyond 

the immediate present

out into the world at large

my heart starts beating quickly

anxieties arise.

So many things I used to count on

freedom

justice

compassion

law and order

are blowing in the wind.

Innocent people 

are being shot

by government agents

black and brown people

are being targeted,

harassed and questioned

new immigrants

are being deported

for no reason

except that they

do not align 

with racist ideals 

of what Americans

look like

speak like.

In this moment

all may seem well

but trouble is close

breathing down our necks

we dare not ignore

the signs

of an approaching storm.

Keep Breathing

 If breathing

is what we do

together

then how is it different

when I am on my own,

when I am waiting

for that magical moment

of joining in with friends

breath to breath?

“Breathe deeply

let go of everything

except the breath”

Breathing is essential to life

something we do

without thought or planning,

so these moments

in between

breathing alone

and breathing with others

can be chalked up to

just breathing

Winter Winds

Wintertime can be harsh

for those who live outdoors

birds flock to black sunflower seeds

scattered over frozen earth

as squirrels perform acrobatics

upending the feeder

What was a cozy nest in springtime

now hangs by threads

woven branches and fluff

exposed

offering no respite

from these winter winds

My friend and I wandered through the town cemetery today, talking about our lives, stopping to marvel at ancient cedars, inscriptions on the gravestones, and to watch a hawk fly. Somehow, being in the cemetery, with its evidence of so many lives lived, did something to my heart. The air was cold, and it was windy. When we came upon this broken-down nest, it made me think of those who do not have a home where they can shelter from the cold. It seemed symbolic of the unravelling of safety nets in our country.

I know we can do better. We can care for one another. If we put our hearts into it, we can push aside power-hungry greed and make way for kindness and compassion. We can ensure that all are protected from the harsh winter winds.