I want a puppy really badly. Because I am craving another insane life responsibility to nurture and protect and bond with. Because I have infinite free time to devote to a cute and playful puppy. And so on. I am not going to adopt a puppy yet, because when I consider it head-on, it would be unjust to adopt a puppy. I use the term “puppy” loosely, I actually would love to adopt an adult or even senior, healthy dog. Meanwhile, I cuddle my increasingly independent spawn and enjoy focusing attention on my mate.
My teacher gave me a compliment of the highest order this afternoon. She told me that from our original conversation she had considered me a visionary. Think about that. It was intimidating and flattering and I handled it fairly awkwardly. Because I do. But, it really flattered me and I am feeling like a poser. Here’s to trying to connect the dots in order to strengthen the kingdom.
There are several overlapping areas of my life that light up my “happiness board”. Gardening. Geeking out. Anything my baby and my beautiful wife. Social Justice and intelligent resource allocation (Putting stuff where stuff goes best).
I went to a meeting the other day with a group of amazing individuals who are part of a larger local network, working so hard to bring about the changes I want to see in the world. It’s a mini-Nirvana. They’re the Puyallup Watershed Initiative. (PWI). I’ll post more about the connections later. For now, you should see what they are doing to build Cascadia.
I am feeling the connective spark again and it’s a big sigh of relief.
I was barefoot chillin’ in the garden, crushing fragile eggshells left over from our breakfast onto the wet soil housing la verduras (the vegetables) that I had so lovingly sown and protected from seed. I had planted pole runners with the hopes of finding something to let them train up, but had not. The plants were weaving and twining around themselves, so heavy, they had fallen over, but grew on and I learned something valuable. I often do in the garden.
Resilience is doing what one must and noticing the journey along the way.
It is telling stories (true though they may be) to yourself and your family and the divine that you have purpose and hope. It’s embracing the pain and the beauty and the fragility. I’m not breathing easy, by any stretch, but I am peaceful and I am grateful.