Beltane\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Waxing Last Frost Moon<\/p>\n
Several years ago, maybe twenty, I sat down with my friend Lonnie Helgeson at the Walker cafe, a table overlooking downtown Minneapolis and the Sculpture Garden.\u00a0 Lonnie, I said, I could die now.\u00a0 I feel good about what I’ve done with my life and would have no regrets.<\/p>\n
Lonnie looked at me, thought a moment, then asked, “But Charlie where’s your passion?”<\/p>\n
Oh.\u00a0 Yeah.\u00a0 A passionate man would not declare he was ready to die, he’d be asking, what’s next!<\/p>\n
Now, at 64, I can honestly say, “What’s next!”\u00a0 Not sure what was going on at that moment in my life, but I think I’d hit a caesura, a pause in the melody of my life, a rest stop on the way.\u00a0 While there, I mistook the rest stop for a destination, rather than a place to catch my breath, consider what direction my path now lead.<\/p>\n
Older now and several caravan serai of the soul moments later, I welcome those times when life ceases to press with urgency, when the TV or\u00a0 a novel or a long vacation beckons.\u00a0 These are moments of consolidation, a time perhaps to welcome the god Janus for a good look back and a strong gaze forward.<\/p>\n
It feels like one may be coming.\u00a0 Last night I finished my literal translation of Ovid’s story of Diana and Actaeon.\u00a0 The legislature ends this session (we think) on May 20th or so.\u00a0 The touring season begins to loosen as schools close down for the summer.\u00a0 Then I’m left with the bees and the gardens, the novel, too, of course.<\/p>\n
These kind of moments when the pacing changes dramatically often yield breaks.\u00a0 Often, as I’ve looked back over my life, I’ve responded to these breaks with melancholy, a drifting down, moving into a sense of purposelessness.\u00a0 What do I do now?\u00a0 I might die.\u00a0 That would be ok.<\/p>\n
Probably where I was that afternoon long ago having lunch with Lonnie.<\/p>\n
The melancholy is ok, too.\u00a0 It’s an old friend, one I’ve come to appreciate as a gathering in, a time to be with myself, in myself.\u00a0 The melancholy slows down my appetite for life, forces me to pay attention to subtler, inner things, so when I reemerge, I’m ready for another road on this one-way trip.<\/p>\n
So, if you talk to me a month from now and I seem a bit distracted, maybe a little down, you’ll know I’m really just resting, getting ready to come out of my corner.\u00a0 Again.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Beltane\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Waxing Last Frost Moon Several years ago, maybe twenty, I sat down with my friend Lonnie Helgeson at the Walker cafe, a table overlooking downtown Minneapolis and the Sculpture Garden.\u00a0 Lonnie, I said, I could die now.\u00a0 I feel good about what I’ve done with my life and would have no regrets. Lonnie looked … Continue reading What Get’s You Up In The Morning?<\/span>