Velcro was patented in 1958. I discovered it in the 70’s as a wonder for children’s shoes. Spiderman and Superman shoes were easily entered and clasped.
Dave Barry said, “Your modern teenager is not about to listen to advice from an old person, defined as a person who remembers when there was no Velcro.”
Certainly now there’s a different parameter for listening to those who lived before computers, the internet, or smartphones. How is knowledge categorized? Where is wisdom found?
I resonate to Rumi:
Stop acting so small. You are the universe in ecstatic motion.
And Brother David Steindl-Rast:
It’s not joy that makes us grateful; it is gratitude that makes us joyful.
And these two dogs, rescue greyhounds, who earned a living and now savor retirement with ecstatic motion and gratitude, though in this moment they capture the ease and joy of repose.
Yesterday my four year old grandson set a towel on the grass and invited me to sit on the boat. Another towel was the “cabin”. He then carried a plate of hard-boiled and colored Easter eggs outside to place inside our cabin.
Ebi, the dog, was allowed to join us on the boat. I was pretending to steer but unsatisfied with our navigational progress, he dragged his sit-on digger/excavator over, placed it in front of the towel, and sitting on it, began to steer the boat. Some plastic fish were thrown into the “water” for us to catch. He informed me he needs a haircut so he’s sleeker in the water for scuba-diving. He then “dove” into the water for that. When I returned home, I reflected on it all. What might I create with what’s here?
Robin Hood with a Unicorn Horn Magic Wand No matter how many Easter eggs and toys abound, there’s nothing to equal a stick!
Because I’m aware each moment could be my last, I set intention for mindfulness, which is quite a task. I keep looking for reminders to reinforce my focus on presence, even though I know this is about knowing enough, and not needing to “seek” because all is here.
I’d been following the search for Caroline Meister, a 30 year old member of the Tassajara community. After an exhaustive search that included Search and Rescue teams, she was found. She’d fallen by a waterfall on a solitary hike, and hitting her head, died.
I read that a few days before she disappeared, a friend asked her, “What would you do if you knew you only had 48 hours to live?”
Her response, “I’d go for a long hike alone in nature.”
I spent the last two days with my four year old grandson. Part of the time we were at his school as he likes me there and I like to be there. The children seem so grown up with their questions and desire to touch and be near me. I feel drawn into noticing and the curious intimacy of individual and group play.
I appreciate the children’s choice in their array of clothes. I wasn’t sure about my grandson’s choice of red sequined pants for the day but then I saw another in his Christmas pajamas and girls waltzed by as princesses and fairies, and I realized every day is what we perceive of as Halloween when you’re four. The hair of some of the girls dances with barrettes, ribbons, and bows.
I brought grandson a book on the eyes of various creatures, showing the different eyes that see us, from owls to dragonflies, snails to cuttlefish, parrots to gorillas, horses, dogs and cats. We are seen even as we’re seeing and the world is rich with collecting rays of delight.
It’s the time of year where we light candles and inhale the scent of winter, at least in the Northern Hemisphere. I’m savoring the shared cheer. It’s a tender time, and may this pause to absorb all the holiday traditions nourish us on our journey into a new year.
Some favorite things!At a BMX track awaiting the coming of Santa’s sleighFirelightAs we travel through the tunnel from one year to the next
My grandson turned four yesterday and was celebrated and honored with a Halloween birthday party of 50 people, most of them small. It was a feast of princesses, dragons, and Spiderman. A Harry Potter character arrived, and Madeleine, and the Cat in the Hat.
A castle Bouncy House was a hit as children climbed in and slid out.
Watching children bounce, slide, and play, I thought of how peace might be obtained. We each have a Bouncy House, or maybe every block in a neighborhood has one, and we gather to bounce and feast where there’s a place for everyone at the table and more than enough to share.
Bouncing in and Sliding OutA cherished giftSpiderman rocks the drums
This morning I drove east to Rio Vista to visit my cousin and say goodbye as shetransitions into a new journey. The drive was exquisite through the delta and past the golden summer lands of California.
On the roundabout I miscounted when to exit so I ended up on a deserted gravel road which was perfect as I needed a pee break.
On the left side of the road was an old-fashioned windmill with a gathering of cows.
Country Life
And on the other side was this.
Modern ways to gather the wind
At my cousin’s house, she showed me a box of cranes, 100 cranes, that my sister-in-law had made and sent to her to help her with her journey of healing and coming to peace and wholeness.
100 paper cranes gathered in a box Here is the story of paper cranes!
The first indoor movie I ever saw was Old Yeller. I was stunned with grief that the little boy had to shoot his dog. I never let my children see that movie. I had never seen Bambi but I finally decided to risk it with my sons. We went to the theater, sat down, and the power went out, so I’ve never seen Bambi.
I’ve also never seen The Lion King, but it’s the second movie my three and a half year old grandson has seen.
When we were at CuriOdyssey with him, we came up to a table a senior citizen was staffing. The table was covered with items to touch, feathers, two tortoise shells, a bobcat jaw, and the skin of a skunk. Grandson held back, looked up at the man, and said he’d seen The Lion King and that it was sad. The man leaned toward him and asked if he was sad when the father died, and he nodded. And the man said he, too, was sad, when the dad died. And then grandson talked about Scar. It was one of those moments in life I didn’t realize I’d taken in until it kept coming back to me, flooding my heart with witnessing the gentle sharing and understanding of an older man and a three year old boy.
When we went outside Grandpa sat on a bench and Grandson curled up next to him. It’s only now that I recognize that Grandson was again snuggled into kindness. This is the world we share.
I’m told The Lion King is about the circle of life, that it is a “story of redemption and overcoming shame, finding yourself, knowing who to trust”, and that I will love it.
Clearly, Grandson understood and trusted that man, and hearts were touched and shared.
Day camp was happening around us, and a group of children passed us carrying their creations made from cardboard boxes and tubes. The creations are made as offerings to entertain and stimulate the animals who live there. A little girl showed me a house she had made for a ferret.
Last night we watched the first episodes of the TV show Silo. I wasn’t quite sure what I thought of it so I watched an interview with the author of the book and the director of the movie. The author, Hugh Howey, was influenced by a sailing trip he took to Cuba over 20 years ago. He’d been warned about the place, propagandized. What he found was the most welcoming and friendly place he’d ever been. He wrote the books to ask us to look beyond screens that deliver continuous bad news to instead visit and learn what is truly happening with a people in a place.
It’s summer and the birds are twittering and tweeting. Our little wren and her mate are busy caring for their nest.
Life is a circle and the circle is Love, pebbled with layers and layers of kindness, like galaxies of stars.
After a bird lunch, bobcat goes inside to restCharlie, the friendly doveBubbles and Foam, Spheres and ShapesCircling
Last week we toasted marshmallows over an open wood fire. It’s so tricky, the matching distance to embers and fire to get the golden brown, or perhaps a black end, torched.
I sit here now considering the textures we are, the warmth and movement, heat and fluidity.
A woman I study with, Miren Salmeron, says “Give yourself your sweet attention.”
I do that now, feeling a coating respond to my environment and melt to the sweet.
Earth, Wood, FireThe embrued glow of melt and changeThe trees overlook what comes
The ocean is one of my special places. My plan is to have my ashes scattered there. Perhaps honoring each wave, so unique, yet part of the whole is what guides me as though I know I have lived more of my life than remains to come, this is the time to integrate and prepare for that final crash or gentle meeting of the shore where water dissolves and lifts.
Stinson Beach yesterday On the way to the bookstorePlanning, UnplannedChess pieces rise in the now open center of the little town of Stinson BeachPlayful ThoughtAn exuberant treeHow to remove the blocks and still stand Footsteps imprint to wash away in the rising tideRise, Center, Surrender
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