Every now and then, we see the world catching up with itself in little ways, in turbulence and neglect, overwhelm and falling behind— a cycle of too fast and not fast enough until things meet up, in resolution or not. Because the world doesn’t live as one, and in my mind it’s not supposed to. (Sorry, John.)
Life will find a way. …Even if placed or seeded in a completely artificial environment.
So much seems to just squeak by unnoticed, with rounds of turbulence contained and overshadowed. For any autonomy at all in the world, not everything is supposed to meet up. But also, not everything is supposed to be known. So now, for each news story, four contain the name of our
narcissist in chief now-President in the headline. Our President wants a Great, Great Wall of China (or Jina) along the U.S./Mexico border. And by the way national security has been handled so far, Muhammad Ali Jr., son of The Greatest, was allegedly detained and asked about his name and religion.
This year, it seems the string of deaths of household names 2016 was known for continues, all but unacknowledged until the next day. At least for me; two times in a row, I did not know that Alan Colmes died, nor Bill Paxton. (And who, in this day in age, knew that Paxton directed and starred in a video about Fish Heads? I didn’t.)
Of all the parallels in life, of getting by in nature vs. this artificial world we set up, of government and the people, my own place in all this is the only thing I could ever really know… and not even that, due to the limits of perception. I keep discovering things about what I thought I knew all the time. We are all wrong all the time, it seems; it ought to be comforting that we get by not knowing… but why am I so riddled with anxiety sometimes?
Things had slowed down so incredibly around here. There’s only so much one can do in a day, especially when paid work is so far away. Considering nothing seems to happen, the question is posed once again: when will I be ready? But, it turns out, I was ready in a number of respects. This student was moving forward, and the teacher had arrived… twice. First, an independent practitioner in meditation; second, my faraway friend who moved abroad to teach English in Asia.
And yet, I felt I hadn’t been moving forward fast enough. I had overlooked an opportunity to begin driver’s ed. on the 22nd; I haven’t signed up for classes elsewhere. The only fast track I was on was one where my goals in becoming more independent were apparently spoken (or written) in vain. It seemed all I could do is dream about potential, however loosely because I’m apparently lazy in my head as well. I had begun crash-sleeping all over again, thinking about my faraway friend because little else in my tired mind seemed to matter during those afternoon hours.
In life, I always seem to be hitting a “wall of snow.” 😉 So, come February 28th, I went crazy. I wasn’t waiting for mother nature to melt away the snow blocking the trail that runs beside the house.
I got the older shovel situated at the back of the house— just outside, taped handle and everything, weathering winter, getting stuck in ice until the ice thawed enough that I could pull it out. And so I started shoveling a snow bank I had no real business shoveling.
A path was cleared. (Roughly.) Of course, it would have been insane to shovel all the way down the trail, so I did just enough to enter.
Walking this path, there were people who walked before me. There were even animal tracks.
By the time I got to the four-way “intersection,” my shoes had taken on a lot of snow on account of the holes and the more-than-a-foot of snow not being able to support my weight sometimes. (Oh, I entered the path, alright. My feet were beginning to turn numb.) So I took a few more photos, of footprints of people entering this area from other directions, and then immediately made my way back.
To give you an impression of how wet my shoes were, they’re blue, not dark blue. And how wet my feet were, well…
This newspaper page on the floor was dry before I got my sock-covered feet on it.