Day 67

saturday

Sometimes I imagine myself living out here before computers, before the internet, before paper and pens even. I imagine that all these thoughts and ideas would just live in my head, or would be shared only with my husband or close family and nearby friends. I imagine that in that reality it would be possible to just receive the beauty of this place and spend my time protecting and caring for it, as one of its own, rather than using it constantly as a metaphor, as a mode for talking about spirituality, politics, psychology, etc.

I am one of those people who often wakes up in a state of agitation, feeling all the things that need to be done. Even on a day like today, a day “off,” I feel a certain pressure to relax and get something out of the day, while also getting domestic tasks done that work leaves little time for. My morning practice of coffee, reading, writing and listening, is less rushed on days when I don’t have to get to work, but I still feel the need to “be productive.” Lately, I am also super aware of how fortunate I am to have this time and space, and I spend considerable hours each week feeling waves of guilt followed by pressure to make the most of what I have.

I still haven’t learned how to process these feelings; how to let go and lean into this beautiful place, how to receive. Writing helps. Just watching and listening helps. It is interesting to notice how hard it is to just receive the beauty and let it work in me. As soon I really absorb it, I feel an immediate need to regurgitate it usefully. As if I am just here to make something of all of this, and not just another creature in her habitat.

The technology that allows me to process and share my experience publicly, also allows me to take in the suffering, injustice, and difficulty of human life. When I permit it to, the access I have to all these stories and experiences, drowns out my own.

I am not sure exactly how to articulate it, but I think that what I experience when I interact with the world through my computer, and even through books, is a different kind of receiving than when I am standing in my front “yard” in the middle of the woods. What I receive out there comes at me through all of my senses, and while I do “think” about it, I also know the limitations of these thoughts.

Maybe there is room for a new practice in my life. Going through my day as if I am just a creature in her habitat. Feeling connecting to the immediate surroundings while letting go of the need to be relevant.

I saw a sandhill crane in the meadow below the house. Through my binoculars, I watched her eat. I want to be her today, just Here.