Transitory

One lovely, humbling aspect of the venture I'm going with here, the insight I give up here, and the insight I gain by making myself keep up with this blog (at least) is this - I am completely admitting I'm in a constant transition - from what I am pretty sure of, into what, I'm not clear at all on -

I have come a long way, as I hope most of have, but a long way from where I need to be in order to feel out of others' hair, prayer lists, charitable causes, concerns, hassles. . . get it?  Not that any of those things are necessarily bad or inhibiting, but most of us need someone else to count on that doesn't need 5 other people to count on.  So many times have I been called to help some one, some project, attend some journey, travel some distance - I mean, convicted to do something, but in order to do that one thing I would have to enlist several others to help with the kids and appointments, finances, etc.  Seemed pointless to me - surely someone with not so much 'baggage' would come take my place.

And they always have - wonderfully cooperative couples who worked in perfect symbiotic flow, enthusiastic college kids who are surprisingly labeled 'poor' (I experienced poverty as a college student myself, and it didn't translate. . .), the elders who have seen it all and come 180 and are giving it back . . .

I would quietly retreat, defeated and feeling meaningless in my purpose, or perhaps my purpose is just to give those who need to help, purpose.  I am the ultimate widow, orphan, the poor, the cold, the hungry, the meek, the rejected, the imprisoned. . . yes, I was the epitome of weakness, the receiver of love. . . or rather, humbly accepted that position as my position - my place in life.

It's feeling like it may kill me, or drastically perturb my blood sugar and general appearance, but I am being there for others now, in whatever way I can.  I still need others, though.

As I'm sitting in my backyard, the warm spring wind quickening, telling rumors of a storm close behind, the spring peepers are coming out. . . the sighs post-news rustling in the tops of the pines. . . gentle plinks and tings of the wind chimes across the violet-padded lawn, the smells of lilac, rain in the air, grass - well, I hope I can be at least one of these simple things to someone - what the spring, the earth, this absolutely incredulous creation under my feet - what it gives me constantly, I want to be that same thing to the world.  Just a simple something, a part of a giant picture of tiny dots, an impressionistic rendering of a life of love - I strive to be a green dot somewhere in the budding leaves. . .

Here's the poetic point I'm dying to admit - I am a vessel that has been bought and guaranteed to hold many things for awhile without leaking or bubbling too much, then process those things and create a nutrient-rich product to be taken from freely.  I'm describing fermentation for those sauerkraut and kefir geeks.  For fermented veggies you put a bunch of veggies in a crock and let it sit and basically sour/rot.  Then you have some potent, healing food - but wise women (and men) take a little of the fermented food (yogurt, kefir, sourdough, veggies) and use it as a starter for even more. . . once the process is begun, with proper care, it will be a related chain of super-foods for an endless time.

I am the vessel that holds all the fresh ingredients - all I do is allow it all to sit quietly, inside me, my head, my heart, then when it has changed and homogenized and become even more nutritious by the power of combining and time, I will share with anyone hungry.

I'm pretty empty now - of knowledge, experience, I don't claim to know anything much save for the convictions and attraction and opinions on community.

Instead of studying others, arriving into these working communities armed with book smarts and no living or even visiting experience - judging, comparing, engaging hopefully impressive conversations about the qualities of historic lasting groups - well, this seems to be a good place for the practice of emptiness, eh?