The great bear
Today feels both long and short somehow. The sun is just now, or was it just some time ago, dropped behind the ridge line to the west. The horizon is still some dull shades of washed out gold while the luminosity of the blue overhead retains its day like hue.
It feels like a long time since I was able to sit with Dr. Brown in live meditation class. Today was a reunion. Me and 50 other close friends experienced the privilege of his tireless instruction, good humor, and sincere longing for the well-being of the little American democracy experiment, just now quite obviously hanging by a thread.
To be fair to my longing, it has been over a month since I’ve had the honor.
Nonetheless it was a good way to bring this Wednesday to a quiet evening.
My father’s midday doctor’s appointment resulted in instructions for him to go directly to the ER. I haven’t spoken with him for a few days, but thanks to my brother I’m able to keep up on the events unfolding there in the beautiful mountain state.
I am glad that this experience for my father is unfolding there in that place that has meant so much to him for his nearly 80 years. His body is weak and he is tired. Were it not for his beloved wife and all of these loving eyes and arms around him, I think he probably would’ve walked peacefully into the forest some time ago by now to witness the light and shadow casting through the trees, and surrendered his body back to the nature he loves so well.
His connection to nature is one of the greatest gifts that he has given me in this life beyond the life itself. To have the dinner table in eyesight of the garden that produced the vegetables, to have met and fed the sheep whose bones and body looked back up at me one last time from the plate, to have stood in the backyard and looked up at the mountain a literal stone’s throw away, to have carried a backpack at 10 into the wilderness to camp at a lake and chase frogs…
Simply recalling these memories, my love of this earth deepens still.
Today was otherwise split in the weave between nurturing the potential line of support for LB from his alma mater at SDSU, piecing together the financial puzzle of my own journey, and weathering the 90° indoor temperatures here at the house.
Midafternoon the replacement thermostat arrived, and with glee, Stephanie and I underwent the installation process with the reward of cool air pouring down upon us just 10 minutes later, an oasis in time.
Outdoors, 103° was the highest temperature we noticed for the day.
There is peace in my heart. Friends and loved ones, even the world around groans under the weight of our current predicament. “Without hope, but not hopeless.” Says the intrepid interviewee as Stephanie and I made our way through the mourning process.
A nice turn of the voice software there plays a trick in the spelling there, just perfect and the perfect moment.
Undoubtedly there is much to mourn. The sun is setting on such a great deal of familiar sites, the day of the world we have known is coming to an end. Fortunately it is that same world that reminds me that sunset and sunrise into morning is little more than a matter of perspective.
Tomorrow is the full moon. Today the last day of September. I am no closer to any victory that I know, but it is Miss Victor’s birthday tomorrow, I guess that should say something. Time rolls through my bones and my mind. Somehow I only see more clearly with each passing moment some perfection growing more bright on the horizon of possibility.
These feet of mine, floating always just a few inches above the ground as I roll around in this chair, must find roots that go deep indeed. Not only is it my own life that they must support, but I must support those who care for me. Their lays only the foundation, those roots are meant not just that, but for the world.
I must find a way. I will find a way.
Sure hearts are breaking everywhere. It is a good thing. It is time. They hold treasures that now can pour out.
Cryptic words perhaps, just reflecting on an email I received this morning.
In my dream last night a great bear and a great gorilla were sitting peacefully in the forest among great steer. As I looked over my shoulder, the bear was swallowing someone’s entire leg. “Keep moving” I thought to myself.
And so we shall…
God gets to know things, we just get to ask questions…