Settle
in this land that is,
as the signs say,
thickly settled,
do you need to settle to settle down?
are compromise and compromiso really true cognates -
can commitment and compromise exist alone?
do I need this time and space to integrate, or just to let things settle
to let the chips fall where they may
lunes, 13 de junio de 2016
wading through the muck
trying to find the courage to stand and speak
without the crutch of my journal
and its scribbled notes
I want to reach deep into my gut
and touch my heart, still beating as you hold it in your hand
dismembered yet still warm
what can we learn from reading the entrails?
what does our own gut,
swirling mass of primordial ooze
the part of me that is an ecology of microbial not-me
tell me that my revered mind cannot?
because "our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate;
our greatest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure"
trying to find the courage to stand and speak
without the crutch of my journal
and its scribbled notes
I want to reach deep into my gut
and touch my heart, still beating as you hold it in your hand
dismembered yet still warm
what can we learn from reading the entrails?
what does our own gut,
swirling mass of primordial ooze
the part of me that is an ecology of microbial not-me
tell me that my revered mind cannot?
because "our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate;
our greatest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure"
Essex Farm, part deux
January through February I worked at Essex Farm – up on Lake Champlain. I learned a ton – from how to make soap, how to strip cows, how to set up an evaporator for maple sugaring season.
Essex is a lovely little town on the lake. I lived right across from the ferry dock, and could see the little green light at the end of the dock (felt a bit like Daisy from The Great Gatsby). I had run-ins with Casper, a Jersey bull they were using (apparently, when you have your period you should be particularly careful around bulls), helped matt and sam move the sows into farrowing pens, in which we’d constructed little tables that fit into the corners so the piglets could fit underneath and the sows wouldn’t be able to sit on them. I got my time in hand milking a jersey down to 10 minutes and built my hand strength up to milk 3 jerseys in a row. (don’t tell me I have popeye forearms – I prefer the comparison to Rosie the Riveter). I learned how to split wood with a maul, which they brought in with teams of horses (they use Belgians as draft horses for most of the work on the farm)
In the meantime, I drove down each Wednesday for a class in Greenfield “Tilling the Soil of Opportunity”. I came out of the class with a business plan for a CSA in western mass. Between that and working with Target Hunger on establishing a relationship with a farm out there, I’ve been busy!
Essex is a lovely little town on the lake. I lived right across from the ferry dock, and could see the little green light at the end of the dock (felt a bit like Daisy from The Great Gatsby). I had run-ins with Casper, a Jersey bull they were using (apparently, when you have your period you should be particularly careful around bulls), helped matt and sam move the sows into farrowing pens, in which we’d constructed little tables that fit into the corners so the piglets could fit underneath and the sows wouldn’t be able to sit on them. I got my time in hand milking a jersey down to 10 minutes and built my hand strength up to milk 3 jerseys in a row. (don’t tell me I have popeye forearms – I prefer the comparison to Rosie the Riveter). I learned how to split wood with a maul, which they brought in with teams of horses (they use Belgians as draft horses for most of the work on the farm)
In the meantime, I drove down each Wednesday for a class in Greenfield “Tilling the Soil of Opportunity”. I came out of the class with a business plan for a CSA in western mass. Between that and working with Target Hunger on establishing a relationship with a farm out there, I’ve been busy!
Orlando
It's raining here. A big sobbing storm, the raindrops pelting down. I'd like to think it's the world's way of mourning Orlando. but maybe it's just a sense of despair that this world, this country are just so terribly broken. Yesterday was such a brilliantly beautiful day. It's both so hard and so reassuring to know that those exist at the same time as such horror. Whenever one side of the world is illuminated, the other side lies in darkness.
If we need to have bad days to have good days, do we need hate to have love? Is equanimity just wallowing in the okayness? Being a rock and letting the waves wash over you, does it breed complacency? Because I can see that being swept up in the waves doesn't work. But I don't want to harden my heart just to take the thrashing. I'm trying to listen, seeking to understand; the world needs more of that, I know, but it feels like I'm doing a lot of thinking and little doing.
If we need to have bad days to have good days, do we need hate to have love? Is equanimity just wallowing in the okayness? Being a rock and letting the waves wash over you, does it breed complacency? Because I can see that being swept up in the waves doesn't work. But I don't want to harden my heart just to take the thrashing. I'm trying to listen, seeking to understand; the world needs more of that, I know, but it feels like I'm doing a lot of thinking and little doing.
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