Treading lightly the path to enlightenment.

Posts tagged ‘walking the path’

Levee

Exhausted from a harrowing run down the cataracts, I sought respite in the deep sleep of the woe-worn, thankful for this broad and smooth, if swift, stretch of the river.

I woke to the sound of voices. Concern and caring from the close and the newly acquainted, inquiring as to need for rescue.

I have awakened in the levee.
Sound and dry, I look to the sun and stars to determine my location. To determine how far I am along the river. Or perhaps I turn to these immortal and perpetual landmarks in space to recalibrate my sense of direction. A ponderous irony, these distant celestial objects make me feel grounded, secure. They triangulate my position on this tiny Earth with pinpoint accuracy. These life-long and eternal companions usher me along my journey, unaffected by tide or time.

Back here on Earth, however, there is some commotion ashore, and I am compelled to investigate. It is a band of those tireless workers. The nameless faces and friends joined in the communal act of shoring the levee.

A view abaft reveals the great length of river behind me, crashing in the slowest-motion imaginable, into the sharp bend. Volume and inertia and guileless will to have its way conspire against those man-made earthworks, and the water line rises with frightening rapidity. A man that reminds me of my Grampa Pete, whom I never got to know, calls out through a bright, toothy smile, sensing my anxiety at the loss of my bearings, and sudden immersion in the present circumstance.

“Don’t you worry about that levee.” his voice was deep and bellowed forth from a barrel chest hanging from broad shoulders, topped with a head dusted with the thinnest layer of white hair. “It’ll hold. I guarantee it.”
He looked over my shoulder upriver and went on, as if I had ambled along, inviting idle conversation.
“Lot of storms recently, that’s why it looks like a flood coming. Don’t you fret. They were not the first, and they won’t be the last. But from here you have one long stretch, and then you’re in the delta.” He returned his attention to this wayward but familiar wanderer, and looked me in the eye as he finished, “That’ll carry you to the sea.”

The tone of his baritone voice, the certainty ringing in his statements, and that sunny smile washed over me like a tonic, wrapped around my shoulders like an arm, and left me with a renewed sense of surety and harmony with this place and time.

Without another word he turned and strode down the embankment. The human hodgepodge of crew could be seen to be making routine repairs. It seemed the gathering and fellowship, laughter, and a sort of lingering were as much a goal of the operation as any physical productivity. As if they were selected as an ad hoc committee representing humankind. Front-line, first-person perspectives with feet on the ground and eyes on the road. Purposed to feel, on behalf of us all, the confidence in the levee, born of the many generations that have stood such watch, as it were, through fair weather and foul. They buoyed my spirit, and I was chagrinned to leave them behind.

Their voices filled the air like song. The smell of peony and phlox wafted like perfumes, and my ever-present friends the sparrows darted about as I rounded the turn and beheld the great flat of the river. It is massive, in an overwhelming, humbling, shoulder-shaking reality-check way.
Immense and unimaginable forces moving at a speed incomprehensible for something so gargantuan. I float idyllically on the surface, as the kinetic energy is carried and dissipated over the broadening course.

How far along to the delta Grampa Pete didn’t say.

I reached for my compass, only to stop and realize it is a worthless bauble, merely a decoration, on a river.

Slainte,

Paz

Destination

 

On The Ridge

 

I raced after my life for a long time, trying to reach it, without realizing I was in it.

 

 

Barn At Sunrise

 

I have vague recollections of the transitory whats and wheres I thought I was trying to get to. 

 

Thistle Down Shower

 

Alas, I’m glad I didn’t make it.

 

Wonderstop

 

This destiny, this destination, this here and now is more spectacular than ever I could have dreamed, 
and has come to me in ways I never would have imagined.

 

Chuy’s Trail

 

Slainte,

Paz

On The Passing Of Charlie Daniels

Why Can’t People

 

Why can’t people just be people,
And leave each other alone?
Then every child would have a home
In the sunshine.

Why can’t all my brothers and sisters
Reach out a helping hand?
Why can’t they try to understand
‘Cause we’re running out of time.
(People, we are running out of time.)

Why can’t people just be good neighbors,
Learn how to get along?
We gotta teach a newborn bird to fly.
All by itself, we gotta teach it how to fly.

If we could only realize
We’re all just God’s children anyway,
Maybe he won’t seem so far away.

 

Rest in peace, Charles Edward Daniels, 1936-2020
He leaves wife Hazel, and son Charlie Daniels, Jr.

Heaven’s chorus now enjoys another voice.

 

Seek peace,

“‘Cause we are running out of time.”

Paz

 

June Piece

 

Wild Tiger Lilies

 

It seems as though we’ve just watched
The last of the snow fade.
Now we cut the growing grass
Blade by blade.

We keep watch for hummingbirds
And the peony’s blooms.
We can open our windows (at least in the day),
In our sunny summer rooms.

Summer Solstice brings promise,
Today the day is long.
We turn to see the rose’s bloom…
And June is gone.

 

Slainte,

Paz

Feed The Cat

 

Doone The Cat

 

Just keep feeding the cat.

Sometimes our lives feel like whirlwinds.
Sometimes we question our very existence.
Our purpose.

It can be mind-boggling.

Meanwhile, we must keep feeding the cat.
It is a Known Good.

Duty and regimen.
Not-thinking.
All things must pass.

Some days it’s all we have.
Until things settle.
Until we sort things out.
Until things become clearer.

In the meantime, keep feeding the cat.
A Known Good for the cat, too.

 

 

Seek peace,

 

Paz

Wordless Wednesday: Away

Away

 

 

 

Seek peace,

Paz

New World Order

It was not the governments of the world that tore down the Berlin Wall.

It was not soldiers in uniforms, nor officials or dignitaries.

The Wall was brought down by ordinary people. Millhands and plumbers and taxi drivers and waitresses.

People who would no longer tolerate the isolation and separatism practiced by their native countries.

The Earth is our homeland.

We are one people.

 

Slainte,

Paz

Time Out

 

Tick Tock

 

Thinking of the

Great Cosmic Game Clock.

What 
Period
Is 
It?

 

Slainte,

Paz

 

Twist Of Fate

Twister

 

 

Fate has woven within it
an intrinsic twist.

Mortals may never know
what lies around the curve.

 

 

Slainte,

Paz

Earth Day 2020

Sassy Afield

 

Legacy and Learning in 50 years of Earth Day

 

A note from Natalie Dawson, Executive Director at Audubon Alaska

Earth Day 1970, Fairbanks, Alaska: Secretary of Interior Wally Hickel canoes on the Chena River to talk about water pollution. He gives a speech about “shifting man’s thinking from military defense toward the environment” at the University of Alaska Fairbanks alongside the mayor of Fairbanks who quotes Tennyson, and Dr. Donald Aitken, who started the now-famous conservation group Friends of the Earth. It was an apolitical showing of art-politics-activism for a celebration of our home, our “mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.” Sometimes it is difficult to remember what we are able to accomplish when we come together.

Bipartisanship reigned on the first Earth Day. We put aside our sharply divided society in the midst of the Vietnam War to address our impacts to water, air, farm fields, bald eagles, songbirds, marine mammals, and civil rights. We passed legislation to protect clear air, clean water, endangered species, labor unions, and healthy foods. We made steps forward. We slid backward. We learned from mistakes. Progress.

Earth Day 2020, Anchorage, Alaska: A global pandemic reminds us we are part of, not apart from, the world around us. It tells us that we can take collective action and make immediate impacts. Whales return to Southeast Alaska and cruise ships are not there to photograph them. The water is cleaner. Earth is quieterWe breathe cleaner air right now and so does the planet. A friend writes, “I wonder if the bears notice the lack of visitors at the Mendenhall Glacier.” We realize we have so much to learn because it turns out there is so much we do not understand.

And in this way, we find ourselves sitting in this united classroom that is Planet Earth. Like the first Earth Day, which was originally organized as a teach-in across college campuses in the U.S., we are once again students. We are learning about suffering, destruction, and the chance for renewal. We hear birdsongs for the first time. We learn about what we can and cannot afford to lose, and what we need to build. We have an incredible moment to create a new world built on shared experience because none of us have been here before, and we must move forward together.

 

Thistle Down Shower

 

Everyone can do something.

Seek peace and stay well,

 

Paz

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