I walked Tennessee Valley today along with many others who were drawn outside to celebrate the day. It was so warm I felt like a cormorant drying my wings as I walked with arms outspread. Butterflies called by the sun swarmed around me like a cocoon. Water streamed down the hills to join the ocean as one.
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I have to laugh when Trump says:“The cheating is rampant in our elections. It’s rampant. … They want to cheat. They have cheated. And their policy is so bad that the only way they can get elected is to cheat and we’re going to stop it.”
Who’s in office? Is he admitting he cheated to get there? That’s what I conclude.
To anchor myself amidst the lies, I’m reading Evelyn Underhill’s book Practical Mysticism. Written in 1914 to counteract the horror of World War I, she leads us within to nourish, and to bring forth the supple sensing that connects us with wonder and awe.
It’s raining here, inviting an invitation to ground and rise.
This morning at Stinson Beach.
Grandson has been here visiting. Inspired by the work of David M. Bird, he headed out into the yard to create his own additions to the garden. Check David out here: https://www.davidmbird.com
I head outside and walk briskly feeling I’m back in the Midwest where I grew up. No loitering or sitting on benches, just moving along, as I hope the country does as we strive for and implement morality, and cultivate and honor democracy.
I read that salmon are in Coyote Creek near where I live, so I went to check and didn’t see any today, which may be because the tide is pouring in, so no ducks, fish, or otters, only waves in the water and reeds.
I’m with words from Anne Bancroft in Weavers of Wisdom: The Senecas hold a stone and when it becomes warm and pulsing, they enter the silence within.
In reading The Gift of Rain by Tan Twan Eng, I come across and reflect on this exchange on free will.
“I said, “There must be free will to choose. Do you know the poem about the two roads, and the one not taken?”
“Yes. That has always amused me, because who created the two roads in the first place?”
It was a question I had never considered.”
Of course, that opens up questions on creation that may go beyond our thoughts on free will, but I’m with the roads that tangle and untangle before us. What guides us in our choices? How do we meet what comes?
When walking outside, I see leaves falling. I flow through the crunch. Today I strolled along the Corte Madera Creek and learned that a concrete channel, installed over fifty years ago, is being restored to its natural state.
I remember these words, and allow a smile to flow down like a leaf to rest in the pelvic bowl.
This morning I couldn’t face the news so I went down by the bay for the sunrise.
I returned home to a poem by Catherine Pierce, “Earth, Sometimes I Try to Play It Casual”, which was perfect for how I felt. Why play it cool or casual when the nature we are surrounds, supports, invites, challenges, and abounds?
I meditated in our front garden this morning. The hummingbirds were out though not in the mood for photos but a bee obliged.
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