Patience

The weather has turned. It is raining just about every day now, and I am grateful for the golden and orange and red leaves on the trees, that bring some badly needed color to the grey, watery skies. Ah, summer, with its blue expanses of sky, its warm breezes, its abundance of brightly and fragrant flowers, its sweetly twittering birds, its long days with plenty of light, its starry nights... Now, it is dark when we get up, it is dark by dinnertime, the flowers are fading, the wind is stripping the trees of their colorful leaves, it is getting colder, drearier. It seems we have to resign ourselves to the cycle of nature, where there is summer, and also fall, inevitably leading to winter. Ice, snow, blocked and dangerous roads, storms. The word that comes to mind is patience. Nature is slowing down this time of year, and maybe we should too. It is a hard thing to do, to accept we have no control over these changes of seasons, other than maybe move somewhere, if you can afford to do so, where the sun shines year round. Patience is a dish with little flavor, and it tends to be chewy, not easy to digest. I kept thinking the last week or so, what are the benefits of patience? It kind of feels like wine. If our beings were like wine in a solid container, it takes time and its reasoning to make it palatable. It is a tedious process, but a necessary and inevitable one, if we ever want our essence, our "wine", to become something of value. So, we grid our teeth, we find solace in a good fire in the fireplace, a  hearty stew, some good conversation with good friends, some time to reflect, to read, to learn, and swallow the melancholy about losing the warm sun and all the charm summer brings. Sometimes we have to just let our hearts and souls sit,and season, with the demands nature puts on our longings and dreams. Patience, almost a four letter word, but really a recipe to add some strengthening salts to the dishes that make up the course of our lives.

Happiness times three

I wish I remembered who came up with this very clever observation : "Happiness is having something to do, someone to love, and something to look forward to." It seems somewhat trite, ordinary, but the insight is quite brilliant. My father's sister devotes her life to a stellar career in social services, and has always had people in her life, in friends, family, colleagues, so her life is well balanced. I think that is what is so insightful about the 3 part equation : that it speaks of the importance of balance. You start taking out one of the equations, and life quickly becomes more precarious. People who are very ill may have family and friends around to keep them focused, and keep them company, so they have someone to love, and something to do, but the part about having something to look forward to when you are terminally ill becomes very elusive. Someone in prison for a long time may have something to do, hopefully, and something to look forward to, like parole, but the having someone to love becomes very precarious behind bars. People in restrictive and abusive relationships, people who live under governments who curtail their liberties and inhibit their freedom to express themselves, may have people to love, and something to do, but the part of having something to look forward to is seriously bruised or at times completely denied. As far as I can tell, from these examples,and from my own life, happiness needs all three parts to be possible. Like Lego blocks that are left unbalanced when one is taking out of a structure, so happiness quickly becomes elusive and reality painful when not all three parts of the formula are in place. I saw this in a heart breaking way in an abused animal I stood up for last year right in my neighbor's yard. The animal was about as unhappy as any living creature can ever be. He was tied up to a chain, alone up to 10 hours a day, no shelter, no company, and was always yelled at and ignored. I am so glad that with a year of consistent persistence, I finally got Animal Services to charge the man with animal abuse and the case was turned over to the Sheriff's Department. This animal had nothing to do, no one to love, and nothing to look forward to, with the exception of my consoling him,and giving him food and water, and promising him I would get him help , which finally came after almost a year of persistent documentation, witness information, pictures and phone calls. That poor animal was living in hell. It took heaven and earth to get him out, and I pray his second chance at life gave him all he would need for basic happiness: something to do, someone to love, and something to look forward to. All sentient beings deserve at least that. Happiness is a precarious thing. If you have it, and have it abundantly, please, feel free to share it abundantly, and look around you. Maybe your awareness can bring things back in balance for a friend, a neighbor, or even a desperately lonely dog.

The Allegory of the Cave

At the beginning of book VII in his work, The republic, Plato wrote a dialogue narrated by Plato's friend Socrates, and Plato's brother, Glaucon. The years Book VII were written fall between 514a and 520a. All this time later, this epitome of existential angst and malaise is as relevant as ever. The idea  that our lives are mere illusions can never be far from the mind of thinking man and his quest to understand his mortal predicament. The famous 1999 movie trilogy by Andy and Larry Wachowski, starring Keanu Reeves and Laurence Fishburne, The Matrix, picks up the Allegory of the Cave and puts it in a nightmarish future where reality is a cyberspace created by sentient machines, and the character Neo, Played by Keanu Reeves, becomes involved with a rebellion of others like him who have been freed from the illusion of the fabricated dreamworld. The huge success of the movie, and its cult like following is a clear illustration of the persistent power of our concern that what we live is not really all the reality there is. Stephen Hawking, the famous British theoretical physicist alludes to this in scientific terms in his A Briefer History of Time (2005), an updated version of a Brief History of Time, made more accessible to the general public. It is a marvelously written book, that makes the most baffling theories of modern astrophysics understandable to any one who took physics in high school. The idea behind quantum physics is that the universe is a far different place than the world we see. Niels Bohr said : "Anyone who is not shocked by quantum theory has not understood it". The idea that energy is not continuous, but comes in small ,discrete units is strange enough. Add to this that elementary particles behave both like particles and like waves, and that the movement of these particles is inherently random. The ultimate implication of this randomness is that if you want to say that something behaves a certain way, or even EXISTS, you must give the context of this behavior or existence, since in another context it may behave differently, OR NOT EXIST AT ALL. Extrapolated to the human condition, the implications are mind boggling. We may be as much a product of a specific mathematical equation as we are of our own volition. Quantum Physics is an existentialist paradise, or is it? I  wish I could have Plato over for a strong cup of tea, and a thorough heart to heart.

Aphorism

When walking in the sun, the tiger and the cricket both, cast a shadow.

Fall Mood

I woke up early, before daylight, to the sound of gunshots. Hunting season is here, a frightening time for my animal forest friends. We know of only two hunters skilled enough to use bow and arrow. That, at least , I can respect, as it requires great strength and skill, since you have to get quite close to the animal, and kill it with one shot. The rain is coming down relentlessly, welcome after 83 days of dry, hot weather, a record for this area. So, we are shifting the living space back inside, as it seems barbecue season and swimming season are over. The flowers are fading and melting under the heavy rain curtain, the spiderwebs are being knocked loose by the wind . Fall in Western Washington is here. Our four footed friends are leaving their muddy footprints all over the house, and I could not care less. They are part of our family, and I gave up a long time ago to worry about getting the Betty Crocker household award. We focus on every one being cozy, accepted and comfortable, and that includes a high tolerance for pet prints,an assortment of cat and dog blankets every where, and sharing space in our small house with our big dog, and two cats. The two cats sleep in a number of places, in closets, and sock drawers, it is really quite fun, wondering where they have gone hiding. Tigger, our boy cat, sleeps on my chest on cold nights, and makes for quite a cozy extra blanket. It is a shift, when fall and the inevitable rains start, as everyone goes indoor, and our living space shrinks to half without the spacious yard and its patio, deck, pool, greenhouse, orchard. So, every one gets re acquainted to close quarters, and it makes for some hilarious moments. The Indian poet, Rabindranath Tagore, said " God must love humble people, as he made so many of them". When I look around our crowded house today, I think God must love us, as it is quite humble around here, but also very comfortable and exceedingly cozy, as I make sure I don't sit on one of the cats before I eat my breakfast.

The Tiny Bird

This morning, I was up by five, as my dog woke up extra early, and I decided to stay up, as my son was leaving extra early for school today. Battling a cold, I was exhausted by seven thirty, as we had been up past ten each night. So, I gave in and laid down with my cat Tigger for a nap under a cozy blanket. I woke up 2 hours later. I guess I needed the extra sleep. I woke up feeling happy, remembering a very sweet dream in which my father, who passed away in 2008, appeared. In the dream, he and I were at a crafts festival, and the competition was to enter the most creative crocheted flowers. Yes, I am not making this up. I had won a prize, and he was very proud of me, and gave me a live tiny bird that sang with a crystal bell like voice. The bird was so tiny, it was the  size of half my pinkie fingernail. It was dark green, with a shiny black beak, and shiny black eyes. It sat peacefully on my father's open hand, as he smiled at me and carefully put the tiny bird on my palm. I woke up feeling so content, like I had been to a very special place. I have no idea to know factually speaking, whether there truly is a spirit world, but in the last months my father often visits me in my dreams. It is always at night, though. This was the first time he visits me during a day time nap. He seemed so real, his voice, his blue eyes, his smile, the touch of his hands. It was wonderful. I have no idea whether my mind fabricated this story in a wishful thinking sort of way, or whether his spirit really visits my dreams, but either way, it makes me marvel at our minds, that can accommodate us so cleverly, that we wake up feeling we were really in that moment, in that experience.The setting also was beautiful, in a green field, near water, and there was a lot of light, and a haze of pink and white like clouds drifting close to the ground where we were walking. It was warm, and even though there was evidence of other people being near, in the presence of several trailers, my father and I were the only people there. It really felt like a visit from him, and it made me glad that he seemed happy, and that he came to spend some time with me.

A Woman of Independent Means

Taking in the delicious early afternoon sun today at lunchtime, I noticed a spider under the eves by the kitchen door, starting a web. I quickly became fascinated at the speed and agility this spider was working her eight legs for maximum efficiency. The mathematical accuracy of the dimensions and the incredible athletic strength  she demonstrated as she was building the outline of the web had me mesmerized. The consistency in the dimensions, the methodical approach and rhythm were truly impressive. I had never taken the time to watch a spider build a web from scratch, but I decided it was well worth it. In under an hour, she had the job done, then sat contentedly in the middle of her masterpiece, awaiting her first unsuspecting victim. As I was watching her build this architectural natural wonder, threading silk she pulled with great dexterity from her abdomen, while hanging on precariously to the outline of the web, I thought, you go, girl! She was the sole provider in her family, she used her own body to both build her house and the source of her nourishment, without depending on anyone or anything. She did not need  to turn in a job application, go to an interview, anxiously wait for approval. She was the boss and the job, and she was the builder of her own house to boot! This girl had it going on! I have always been respectful of spiderwebs, because they looked like they were a lot of work,now, since I saw one being built, I will try even harder not to disturb these engineering marvels. It was a bit creepy to watch all those legs going all at once building this marvelous web, but as I swallowed my aversion, I began to realize the spider needs all eight of those spindly legs to pull this feat off. I was also impressed with the spider's focus. There was no such thing as taking a break. She started and kept going until the job was finished. The woman has my respect.

Bliss

It is late Friday afternoon, warm, sunny, not a cloud in the brilliantly bright blue sky, and I am enjoying the sun, laying down on our deck, with our 12  year old kitty, Sneakers. I close my eyes and soak in the warmth of the sun on my face, the tickle of my hair being tossed gently  by a sweet breeze, the slow snoring sounds of our old kitty, the happy sound of our patio chimes,... ah, time is standing still right now. It feels so good. It reminds me of my happy childhood memories, when time was a commodity in abundant supply. Time to simply be. I let a contented sigh escape me, and look up at the gorgeous expanse of sky. Not bad for October 5th. All the flowers are still blooming, my red rose is actually putting out two more blooms. It is hard to believe that we ever had 3 feet of snow on the ground last winter. If summer decides to stick around longer, fine by me! That is one thing about summer, no one seems to mind if it sticks around. I don't think most people feel the same way about winter. So for now, for this glorious half hour in early October, I am. I simply am. Instead of this constant doing, going, here,there, for a brief moment in time, I am part of this quiet, blissful afternoon, together with my sweet cat, who I am hoping is enjoying sharing this moment with me as much as I am enjoying sharing it with her.

Colin Thubron

With the approach of fall and winter, I am looking forward to spending more time reading. If you enjoy travel diaries of high quality, check out the books by British author Colin Thubron (born in 1939). He has close to 50 years of experience traveling alone to the most remote parts of the globe. His books take you to the Middle East, Russia, Central Asia, China, always off the beaten path. He always stays with local people, and speaks fluent Arabic, Russian, Chinese. His books, like "The lost heart of Asia",( on the 5 Central Asian Republics ), "Mirror to Damascus", and "Shadow of the Silk Road", are mesmerizing, highly researched and informative and seasoned with a wry humor and yet sensitive spirit.I devour his books in the wintertime, to combat the frustration of indoor confinement due to weather. They are wonderful, bold diaries of a very inquisitive, fearless person fascinated by the diversity of the human experience. His knowledge of the history, politics, culture , language of the countries he travels through is vast and based on meticulous research and experience. He draws you into his experience, however exotic and often risky at best, by his candid uncomplicated way of inviting the reader into the homes of the various local people right alongside him. You become as much a participant as you are an observer, and it makes Mr. Thubrons' writing very in formative and personal all in one. He travels always alone, without a camera, just his notes that after the journey he spends years putting together into his marvelous travel diaries. In a world of instant gratification due to technology, this writer is impressive in his scholarly research and patience, and his endearing human touch, always highly mindful and respectful of the local culture and codes. He takes you through the Karakorum desert, the remote stretches of the Silk Road, the creepy parts of remote Siberia, the hustle and bustle of Damascus, the lost splendor of Samarkand and Bukhara, all the while endearing the experience by sharing the lives of the local people with you, their hopes and dreams, heartaches and accomplishments, making you feel part of them and their place in time and in this world.