June 1, 2010

I'm not sure where my time goes. I know that it goes too fast. While I have accomplished many things over the month of May, much remains to be done. Nice thing about work. It doesn't go away. If YOU leave, it will sit and wait for you.

And here's the thing: why should there be so much to DO? When is there time to BE? I have no well-reasoned answers or plans. All I own is a vague yearning to do nothing, in a beautiful place, for all the time I want to spend.

I live in a beautiful place. My countryside is generous with natural splendor. I have discovered that splendor takes many hours per day to maintain. Maybe it's someone else's job to lie in our hammock, admiring the sculptured hedges and discovering new fairytale characters in clouds. And oh, that anointed one will gaze up at sun shining through new tree leaves! In the meantime, I will mow and rake and plant and water and shovel and clip and weed and sweat to make the heaven that dwells here.

On the other hand, when I look at what is happening in the Gulf of Mexico, when my heart is heavy with sorrow for the people and the wild magic of the Delta so brutally ravaged for money, I can think of no better way to BE than in full support of the rescue of what may be beyond rescue. And I send prayers and hair - though the latter is no longer being requested. I wish I were younger and could go there and do "something" of a practical nature to help.

I'll bet you're way ahead of me. Why does cleanup there equal Being, while cleanup here is only Doing? Oh. I see. I can't heal the world, but I can honor my corner of it. Prayers, witness, and love continue to be a part of every day that the spill continues. Other ways of helping will present themselves. Here, the spending of time in beauty will include gratitude for the chance to help it to continue.