Imbolc and the Ancient Moon
Tuesday gratefuls: Tara. Hebrew. Snowless Lodgepoles. Those ski runs on Black Mountain. Hubris. Who can own a Mountain? Mark in Saudi. Mary in K.L. Diane in San Francisco. Tom in Shorewood near the lake. Shadow Mountain. Irv and Marilyn. Rabbi Jamie. Torah. Parsha Bereshit. Aleph. Mem. Shin. The Mother letters. Blizzaks. Mountain roads. Sue Bradshaw. Health. Energy. Past values.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Great Sol lighting up Black Mountain as Dawn breaks
One brief shining: Been gradually clearing and organizing books, piles of papers, the way I have to do it now since my energy and my back bail out on me sooner than in former times; in defense of myself I’ve learned to pick up things when they fall, put things away in their place when they’re out, even so books and documents and magazines continue to appear in stacks, placed there to be read or consulted, both habits of long standing, ones I don’t seem to want to break, so I gradually clear and organize. You know?
As I approach 77 tomorrow, I admit to breaching my own commitment to surrender. Several times. Most recently this morning after saying the shema and before I got out of bed. Since each day is a new life and each waking a resurrection, early breaches like this can impact my whole new life.
Here’s the breach. It started in the usual way. What am I doing with my time? I write Ancientrails. I study. I go out to eat and to the synagogue. I watch TV. I read. I buy groceries and make myself meals. These thoughts came up like a pilot’s checklist. Oh, there’s medical stuff and working out. Taking care of the house. Yes. And. Well, that’s it. Or 99% of it.
Next step toward the breach. What am I not doing? I’m not working on any political efforts. (though there may be a bit going on) I’m not volunteering for anything. No docent work. No work on hospice like my buddy Paul. No Sierra Club or other climate focused work. I’m not writing a novel. I’m not hunting for a relationship. (don’t want too, either)
Critical moment. Still lying in bed as I do my personal inventory. So. What could I be doing? No. Let’s be honest here. What SHOULD I be doing?
And the barrier wall of acceptance of my life as it is cracks. A cascade of possibilities. Become a docent at DAM. Accept the educational committee chair at CBE. Write that novel about Lycaon that keeps surfacing. Get back to work on Charlie’s list. Do more research on regenerative farming, innovative ways to adapt to climate change. Organize the neighborhood around wildfire mitigation.
The problem here is not with the possibilities. Sure, I could do one or all of them. That’s not the breach. The breach is feeling I’m not enough if I don’t. The feeling is that if I don’t do at least one of these then I’m wasting my life. And honestly? What does that even mean? Wasting my life would be not having lived my life; yet, I have. As well and powerfully as I was able. Sure I stumbled and followed wrong paths, but so what? That’s life as a human being.
That’s no way to start a new life. What was I resurrected today for? Not to find myself as less than. But to accept myself as fully human, fully alive, fully loving. To accept others in the same way. If I want to write a new novel, then I will. If I want to do more work on Charlie’s List, then I will. And if I don’t. Then I won’t. And that’s it. Enough.
Now I’m ready to start this new life. This day. Tomorrow inshallah I will resurrect as a 77 year old man with friends and family. A life, a long life, fully lived and still underway.