Reversals

The Tower (reversed): Unexpected upheaval leading to a positive change in life. Catastrophe survived or narrowly avoided. A new lifestyle or enlightenment.

Here's hoping...

Lucky Rocketship Underpants

"The only sure thing about luck is that it will change." - Bret Harte

You've read it here before: I'm remarkably lucky, unusually blessed. (Which raises the question: which is it, lucky or blessed?  Random or metaphysical? That's a subject for a blog post all its own.)

For today, let's call it lucky because, by all objective measurements, that's exactly what I am. To begin with, I'm a white woman living in the United States of America.  Those of us  in the first world must acknowledge the sheer luck of our birth. Even the poor here are rich by other countries' standards. 

For another thing, I'm married to Sequoia. How the hell do I rate?  I dunno, but don't get any ideas ladies. You'll have to pry him out of my cold, dead hands.

I have two sweet, smart, beautiful daughters who are both healthy, happy and productive members of society.  Every parent knows this prayer: "Lord, if something bad has to happen, spare my children and let it happen to me."  Thus far, the good lord has spared me and my kids and that feels like very good luck. (Ssshhh - don't say that too loud, I don't want to attract the attention of the gods.)

A friend of a friend attended the camp out this year.  I told him he was welcome back any time. He said he'd like to come back because, "you guys are cool and you know some really interesting people."  "Yes," I said, "I am lucky in my friends." You can't get much more lucky than that.

Like Joni Mitchell's "Song for Sharon," I have my music and my family and my farm. I have my health. I have the most interesting friends on the planet.  I am a lucky woman in all of the most important ways. But, luck takes many forms.  Sometimes I have to change my perception in order to see something as lucky.

"You never know what worse luck your bad luck has saved you from." - Cormac McCarthy

The last few months, hell the last few years, have been increasingly difficult at work. Recent events raised the difficulty to a new level.  There's no point in going into details; I'm not interested in sowing discord.  Suffice it to say, it has been painful.  But, there is a silver lining to my heartache, a bit of luck embedded in my pain:  it created clarity.  I finally know that it is time to make a change. I don't know how that change will manifest, but I am finally motivated to take concrete steps to make change happen. I'm no longer debating and I'm no longer stuck. I know it's time to go.  That feels like luck; maybe left-handed luck, but luck all the same.

"Now there's a way, and I know that I have to go away. I know I have to go." - Cat Stevens

There have been times when my luck has been readily apparent and ridiculously abundant.  Other times, my luck is disguised as something that looks distinctly unlucky.  It's hard to see luck in pain and injustice, but if they serve to clear my mind and strengthen my resolve, then I am very, very lucky.

What We Learned In Tiller this Year

Sometimes you walk the duck. Sometimes the duck walks you.

I Yam Who I Yam

Tennyson said, "That which we are, we are." Locke said, "Whatsoever is, is." Or, in the immortal words of Popeye the Sailor Man, "I yam what I yam and that's all what I yam."

And yet,  we are capable of change. Change happens every day.  Change is inevitable, unstoppable, the only constant.

Ah, the good ol' yin and yang of existence. I've bumped my head into this ceiling so many times before: immutable nature vs. constant change.  Like light, I function both as a particle and a wave.  I am both matter, subatomic bonds that form, deteriorate, and reform, and energy that cannot be created or destroyed, just changed from one form to another.

If I want to change my life, change is right here, available for the taking. But, change must be reconciled with the essential nature of my being, my immutable self.  So many times I have tried to be something I am not. It never works.

I continually strive to be a better person, but I don't want to be someone I am not.  People give and people take, people come and people go. Through it all, I'll be OK as long as I am who I am. 

Colestine Camp Out 2013

What a warm, wonderful camp out we had this year!  Sequoia has been digging at me by saying the camp out was “efficient,” a backhanded compliment if I ever heard one.  I think he is nostalgic for the raucous, chaotic blow outs of our youth, but I couldn't have been happier with how everything turned out.  Our gathering was sweet and easy, warm and loving, welcoming and open-hearted. It felt like family. It was everything I could possibly hope for.

The kids and the dogs certainly had a loud, raucous, chaotic camp out. They had a blast.  So, if we want a wilder party, I say it’s time for the next generation to take over and kick out the jams.  I’m talking about you, Colestin kids. I mean, damn, many of you started visiting while you were still in utero.  This place belongs to you.

Here's the truth: we're getting old. There’s a limit to Sequoia’s superhuman strength. He and I searched for a place like this all through our twenties. Can you imagine what the land would look like now if we had arrived when Sequoia was still in his first flower? Epic.

 As the candles melt into the morning

And the disc golfers young and old fling

The beauties keep getting more beautiful

And the trash just gets more interesting

The artist perfects her eye

Three, count 'em, three barbecues

 Dude, that's sweet!

 Big mama Shasta in the distance

Dutch on the carboy as Junebug listens

 Deep in conversation

 Slip n slide!

 The John Conniff Dead Show, featuring fingers of the 'fist

Danny whuppped Daddy

 A proud moment for young Tyler

Dogboy Disc Golfs!

Junebug!

 Young Love

Some of the Fam-Damily

Summer Solstice

The expression "the only constant is change" is made manifest in a forest. We think of a forest as one thing, a single, discrete entity, but it is a communal organism that is constantly evolving: growing, dying, being be reborn.  In 16 years of living in a forest, I've watched seedlings grow into trees and mighty trees fall. Some years we plant, some years we cull, but the forest keeps evolving, with us or without us.

The camp out is like that: always changing.  People come and people go.  All we can do is plant the seed and watch what happens.

With love in my heart and good will towards all, I make this offering of community, celebration and beauty, an island of respite in the river of time.

So much love for the people who make the trek over the mountain this weekend. So much love for those who want to be here but can't.

In Which a Platform is Built for a Piano, a Statue is Moved and a New Swing is Hung

It starts with a piano in the meadow.  Can't just sit on the ground, now can it? It must  have its own platform.

Then David must be moved to his final resting place by the swimming hole because we can't leave him standing around just anywhere.

Then a new rope must be hung for the swing.  If you don't have an answer to the question "How many years has that swing been in the tree?" then it's time for a new rope. 

Lordy, it was a busy weekend.