and we are witnesses. to the thistle. to the meadow. to this slice of the earth.
we watch, as time passes. we note changes, dramatic and subtle. we are aware of the nuances of these moments – transitory. we are inside the ephemeral.
we are intentional; we fritter away.
and the thistle is witness to us as we stand still – for little bits of a while – in admiration. our gaze is focused, memorizing beauty, not questioning the randomness of our attention.
just holding it all in wonder. just perceiving the glorious. just unmoving and moved.
sharing this space of time – together – within the perpetuity of it all, what do the thistle, the meadow, this slice of earth see – looking back at us?
we had never parked in that section of the daily parking garage, so we never saw it. creatures of habit, we didn’t park there this time either, but we walked across the driveway to use the elevator and the interior moving walkway on that side. for how many times i have flown out of the milwaukee airport, i was surprised to find we could walk inside instead of through the cold terminal parking garage. the walkway was much warmer than the damp parking structure and, since we were going to florida coatless, it was a much better choice.
we rounded the last corner – the one that takes you to the third-level-skywalk to the terminal – to find ancient words of wisdom marking an entrance to the airport’s meditation room. simple, beautiful, quiet – we never knew it was there, though it was completed in late 2017. “airports can be busy, hectic, and stressful places. the MKE meditation room provides a quiet, tranquil location for thought, reflection, prayer, and meditation.” (www.mitchellairport.com) we stopped into the meditation room on our way home. we sat for a few minutes, reading the inspirational words on the wall, closing our eyes in contemplation. it was surprisingly silent. it was right as the liminal space between the flight and home.
a few days ago – in the later afternoon – we hiked one of our favorite trails. we were stressed and needed the space and quiet of this familiar woods. we had been there days before, boots and snowpants through deep snow, trees stunning against the whiteness. it was beautiful. we find the ancient words of the talmud on this trail…we are sustained by its peace, we feel more hope for truth and justice as we walk in nature.
but this day was not quiet. and, though researching the mayhem revealed that it was a “woody invasive species clearing project,” we found the noise, the machinery, the devastated forest disturbing. nothing looked the same and, as much as we know this trail, it was hard to locate within it; without familiar trees and underbrush each bend in the trail looked different.
“removing invasive shrubs and trees in oak communities allows for enough sunlight to reach the ground level to encourage the growth of young native tree seedlings and other native vegetation.” (www.lcfpd.org) we felt somewhat relieved reading these words after our hike, understanding that these big changes were intentional and that the purpose was growth and sustenance of the savanna, prairie, and marsh wetland.
the talmud, the milwaukee meditation room, the preserved woods in northeastern illinois…all the same, i suppose.
it is the removal of the invasive, the obnoxious, the noise, falsity, injustice, all that is conflict-riddled, that allows the sun, that encourages, that sustains the world.
the lake is glistening out the window right now, diamonds in the sun on a sea awash in blues and teals. we just listened to this track SCATTERED and i am taken back to when i composed and recorded this, a time i felt scattered. yet, this is the right piece of music for today.
how we arrived together at this place at this time – all scattered puzzle pieces. rearrange one piece and everything changes. somehow, the pieces all fit, snug tabs and blanks forming a picture.
right now, coincidentally the album title, we are in a new time of life at a new place doing a new thing. our job is to respectfully, mindfully, keenly watch. we will listen and study and learn the branches of our little island, the unique challenges of the work here. as we develop relationship with the island, the people, the places, our littlehouse, our work here, the scattered tabs and blanks will come together. not without intention or purpose, not without dreaming or planning, not without knowledge or the wisdom of experience, not without experimentation or failure, but they will come together…as they will. it just feels a bit scattered right now, as every jigsaw puzzle fresh out of the box.
the most important tupperware – the pieces that i will likely save forever and ever – are the sippy cups with lids and the brightly colored small everything-in-a-bowl-bowls that The Girl and The Boy used when they were little. years into college, The Girl came home, went directly to the cabinet, took out a sippy cup, went to a drawer below, pulled out a lid, poured some juice into the cup, attached the lid and announced, laughing, “i don’t want to adult anymore.” if it were that easy to avoid, i suspect all of us would be using sippy cups fairly often. but oh…those sippy cups and those bowls. a trove of little-kid-memories, a rainbow of cups and bowls waiting for maybe the next generation.
my sister sold tupperware. well, at least that’s what i remember. she also sold mary kay products, so i wonder if i am getting confused. nevertheless, she has more tupperware than anyone i know, so i suspect i am right about her long-ago-sales-effort. as a result, i have tupperware that spans the years…clearish-white picnic-size salt and pepper shakers, an iceberg lettuce keeper, orange canisters in the closet, tools that zip the peel off oranges, section and core an apple, cut around the pith of a grapefruit, make gravy-making easier, things with lids that store other things. my hands can still feel working the push-button on the top of the decanter my sweet momma always used for iced tea.
this room – at the school days antique mall – appealed to both of us. all the tupperware was organized by color. it made it interesting and easy to be around. it felt less haphazard and more intentional. it made us want to look at it. there is another booth that we both cannot even think about entering; it is a chaos of piled articles, none of which stand out from the mess. the organization was something that, i’m quite sure, took some time, but it paid off. the investment in effort to make it appealing, the deliberate intention to be ordered made this booth more worthy of time spent. i appreciated that. it wasn’t lost on me that this organizing philosophy of tupperware could apply to most anything. taking one’s time, baby step by baby step, clean and organized and with a well-intentioned end goal in mind leads to an outcome far better than what any chaos could yield. hmmm. where else could that apply…..
i’m thinking that anyone who has ever wanted vintage tupperware or needs to replace a piece of their own collection will find it in this place. and, because of the neat, clean orderliness, they will purchase it, trusting the integrity of the piece in the sale. it’s much harder to think about purchasing a piece from the piled mess in a far corner of another room in the building. were i to want something specific to actually be able to use, i would not look for it there.
regardless, i have enough tupperware. all i really need is those sippy cups and those plastic bowls.
we have a new frog in our pond! two actually. this feels like perfect timing for us; we needed the good sign of a frog in our midst. both of these frogs are different than previous pond-frogs we have had in past years; these two are leggier, less body and more frog-legs. we’ve named the bigger one ripple and the little one pebble. neither comes when we call their names, but ripple is not as shy as pebble. we’ve advanced toward the pond and pebble will dive right in before we get close, but ripple sits quietly on one of the rocks and waits. when he (or she) eventually dives in, it’s with a flourish and we get to see the concentric circles that spread outward, which is where it got its name.
it’s where we sit in our belief – as artists, as people – that the concentric circles spread outward from the center. the only place from which we can really make a difference. any difference. it hearkens back to my sweet momma…her very core believing that all should start (and end) with being kind. on her website www.beakysbooks.com is quoted mr. fred rogers, “there are three ways to ultimate success. the first way is to be kind. the second way is to be kind. the third way is to be kind.” it’s how she lived. she would point to her life and asked what she had accomplished. greatness. she accomplished greatness. because she spread kindness. out and out and out it went, the ever-widening rings into the world.
it doesn’t seem that complicated. it doesn’t take wealth or a super pac or any kind of grandeur to accomplish. it is simple. basic. in the words of john wesley, “do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, as long as ever you can.” or my sweet momma’s favorite verse, ” i shall pass through this world but once. any good therefore that i can do or any kindness that i can show to any human being, let me do it now. let me not defer or neglect it, for i shall not pass this way again.”(stephen grellet) or from the dalai lama, “be kind whenever possible. it is always possible.” right at the center, right where ripple quietly sits before the great hop – right before we move or speak or rebel or undermine or chasten or deflate or insult – is the place where we can choose to be kind.
we have a new frog in our pond! two actually. this feels like perfect timing for us; we needed the good sign of a frog in our midst. both of these frogs are different than previous pond-frogs we have had in past years; these two are leggier, less body and more frog-legs. we’ve named the bigger one ripple and the little one pebble. neither comes when we call their names, but ripple is not as shy as pebble. we’ve advanced toward the pond and pebble will dive right in before we get close, but ripple sits quietly on one of the rocks and waits. when he (or she) eventually dives in, it’s with a flourish and we get to see the concentric circles that spread outward, which is where it got its name.
it’s where we sit in our belief – as artists, as people – that the concentric circles spread outward from the center. the only place from which we can really make a difference. any difference. it hearkens back to my sweet momma…her very core believing that all should start (and end) with being kind. on her website www.beakysbooks.com is quoted mr. fred rogers, “there are three ways to ultimate success. the first way is to be kind. the second way is to be kind. the third way is to be kind.” it’s how she lived. she would point to her life and asked what she had accomplished. greatness. she accomplished greatness. because she spread kindness. out and out and out it went, the ever-widening rings into the world.
it doesn’t seem that complicated. it doesn’t take wealth or a super pac or any kind of grandeur to accomplish. it is simple. basic. in the words of john wesley, “do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, as long as ever you can.” or my sweet momma’s favorite verse, ” i shall pass through this world but once. any good therefore that i can do or any kindness that i can show to any human being, let me do it now. let me not defer or neglect it, for i shall not pass this way again.”(stephen grellet) or from the dalai lama, “be kind whenever possible. it is always possible.” right at the center, right where ripple quietly sits before the great hop – right before we move or speak or rebel or undermine or chasten or deflate or insult – is the place where we can choose to be kind.
reverse threading 