Surrender?

Sometimes I have to hunker down and ride out the storm. When I smell dusty rain on the wind, my instinct is to outrun it. Faster. Faster.  A good friend can ease the panic.

The worst choice I can make is to deny the gathering clouds and then become incensed at the arrival of the inevitable. Of course, I’m referring to the turbulent crashing waves of emotion that swing between the uncontrollable abyss and fleeting glorious heights. 

My first thought yesterday was “surrender” to being engulfed by my own disturbing, crazy dialogues. My second spoken out loud guidance was  “Patience, Crow, things always work out.” However, knowing that the pendulum will obey the laws of physics and swing back to the other side, doesn’t help. Sometimes my logic and my gut-knowing are lost to each other.
   
Do we all try to control gravity? Arrest the natural arc of that emotional pendulum? Do we all joyously surrender to the bright side of our moods and reject the rest. I think some people may cling to consuming depression as a badge, the adult award for "facing reality."

Today the sun is out, and I feel refreshed, emptied of chaos. I am humbled in the realization that these storms are as natural as the turning of the earth---and sometimes (like yesterday) surrendering takes all the will power I can muster. 

The wise saying is that we all have our demons. If I don’t acknowledge their existence, how can I invite them to leave?

During the Still Parts

During the Still Parts   

I remember to notice with all my senses as if waiting...... 

waiting for the rain or the "ah ha" of a great giggle or the taste of an illusive insight.  I've been spinning yak and silk by hand. So smooth and natural.  It reminds me of this photo and others taken in China on the Tibetan Plateau.

Here at home the still parts are stolen from the "ought to be doings" like the dishes, sweeping--all the busy things we imagine ourselves doing to imitate the kind of person we think we are.

In an amazing effort to just keep things going, I can ignore important skirmishes on the periphery of my awareness.  Its an old habit like thinking I need gas money to get to the next gig, keep pedaling or the bike will fall over, wondering if someone will say I can't camp here, or if 'it' will be okay.

It's ironic to be in the sweetness of my years, not needing the worn smooth survival tools I carried close.  The still moments don't last forever. I understand that everything is moving.

During today's still patch, I think I'll quit arguing with myself about having a part in the big crazy thrilling dance.  In stillness I'm just a compassionate, creative, and awed being...grateful for the stillness to notice.

It's about time...

In Ecuador on a birding trip. 

It's about time. Three years ago, I had these clever guys set up a great website...that I have not updated! The lack of activity worried some people into thinking that I was not well or maybe that I'd left the planet. 

   I'm healthy, happy, creative, and walking 3 miles a day.  The truth about my web silence is that I'd rather be writing, spinning, weaving, knitting, dreaming, walking in wilderness or adventuring somewhere with my husband (the fabulous Art Evans). Learning how to do techie things can be crazy making.

Grey haired me wearing
Writers' Colony at Dairy Hollow
in Eureka Springs, AR t-shirt.

   Our mothers did pass on after living with us until they were 92 and 90. It's taken a year and a half to get my bearings and begin writing again. Each mom felt that she was the only queen mother and openly squabbled with the other one. I think I could write a sitcom. Quoting one, for example, "I'm not gonna die first because she'll get my room!"  I think they enjoyed the hostilities that kept them fired up and righteously indignant. They passed within 3 months of each other. 

These are alpaca gloves I knitted.  I gave them to a woman on the
Tibetan Plateau when we visited wilderness in China.

I'm not touring but have had the honor of appearing with
 Kelly and Donna (Still on the Hill) as my band

Arthur and I have run away on bird and critter watching trips to India, Ecuador, Madagascar, China, Peru, Brazil, Argentina, Uganda, Borneo, and a few others. Journals, pictures, videos, and those magic moments, like tigers in the wild.  

Arthur on the Sacred Way

I guess I can't put everything on this space right now. I'll try to figure out more of the blog stuff.  Hugs, Crow

I LOVED writing this book.