something in the air

The rain has brought many of our small neighbors up and out.  Sensing a maybe sorta Spring, the toads are back throwing their croaks out against the yurt floor, experimentally.  Awakened, daily, by the hummingbirds as they zoom around the yurt at sunrise, there are also the sounds of the dove conclave on the land next to us.  The parrots make growly noises in the dark that can be translated, usually, as either “turn on the heater” or “don’t wake us up!”.  They are quite exacting, those two.

The other morning was really amazing, however.  In addition to our usual cast of characters, there were literally hundreds and hundreds of birds all around us.  Robins were marching up the driveway, magpies were levitating to the highest branches of the now bare oaks, finches, sparrows and titmice were hopping through the grasses, and doves, flickers, and woodpeckers swooped through it all.  It was as though everyone had just arrived for an important meeting.  And there was a great chatting and singing and comparing of notes.  It was like opening a door and walking completely into the most divine surround sound imaginable, just stepping onto our “deck”.  You could hear everything and everyone responding and each individual song floating in the air, all of it fitting together into a seamless brilliance and light.

So that- and some other recent sightings of inner and outer worlds- continues to let me know that the seemingly unseen is my real terrain.  But I am still the same unfinished human work in process as ever and the things I’ve struggled with all my life are still thumbing their respective attitudinal noses at me.  Curled up and licking wounds, I want it all to leave me alone.  But of course it cannot because the equation is not complete.  That’s a weird thing about it all, too.  It IS complete, in every moment, of course, just as the lengthy times when the unseen is just that- unseen- make it seem incomplete.  Perhaps part of it is coming to terms with the fact that we all inflict pain on our fellow beings whether we intend to or not, and receive not always intentional wounds in return.  The complicated dance of life requires constant attention and of course there will be lapses- especially during those long stretches of low visibility learning curve.  There IS a lot to learn, and when that can be undertaken joyfully life is, as the Buddha said, sweet.  But when we are stuck in emotional dyslexia it is not sweet at all.  Perhaps this is where we are meant to remember the integrity of the whole, which contains so much more than we know.  Slow down, breathe, and listen.  In the end you have to be true to yourself.  Not selfish, but true.  Sometimes that shows you a reflection of yourself that is displeasing.  Sometimes you can rise above all those mundane concerns.  In the end one of the most important things is to feel what you are feeling, not run away from it or glorify it.  Just Be there.  Then things start to come into view- and sometimes there are wonderful winged choruses to go along.

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