Summer and the Moon of Justice
(see below for Wednesday gratefuls)
Been wandering around in the corridors of my mind, feeling a little lost. Not writing. Not taking a class. Not going to CBE. Not seeing the grandkids or Jon. Not gardening, which for some reason has risen in my heart as important. No bees. Two great dogs, but only two. No trips. No trips planned or likely. I know, defining myself by what’s not in my life. Not good. (lol)
Thinking like this does not bring me joy. Remember my simplicity practice: does this idea bring me joy? Well, these ideas don’t. And, yet, they are true.
What to do? Over the last couple of years especially this question has appeared here a lot. Even more. In my mind and heart. BTW: I increasingly think and feel, like the Hebrew word lev suggests, that these two are the same.
I set aside the question while I reorganized the loft, allowing that process to to cleanse me. Really, I allowed it to put off the reckoning. Now, after weeks of off and on work, I’m almost done. A few articles to file. A very few books to find shelves for. One black walnut shelf, beautiful still, handmade by Jon, to clear. Oh, and that back corner by the door. Well, ok. Not almost done. Let’s say, nearly. Expecting some sort of internal lift off when I walk in here and everything’s in its place. But, to what?
The last four and a half months, the time Seoah was here, saw a lot of lingering stress resolved. Murdoch and Kep separated. Gertie died. Kate’s life has become happier. I had a long break from cooking. Family bonds grew tighter. Over the same time I undertook this Augean stables task of cleaning up the loft. Nearly done.
What am I now? Not who am I. I’m comfortable with the guy rattling around in the walkways of his heart. But, what I am for, today?
Coordinator of outdoor projects. Cook. Cleaner. Nurse. Husband. Radical theologian. Father. Father-in-law. Grandpop. Writer? Painter? Sumi-e’r? Activist?
Not all who wander are lost. Just recalled this. True. I don’t feel lost, just lacking direction.