Finding myself simply wanting to breathe fresh air. Only been able to read for ten minutes or so at a time. Only activity really making me happy is planting a tree or getting a gardening space in order. Inside air seems stale. Outside air seems alive. Would rather be cold outside than warm inside.
My thoughts are like those time lapse videos one sees of a large construction project being condensed to 30 seconds. It is like the fiber optic supported world wide web has somehow been attached to my brain. I will find this interesting and then that interesting and then that other thing interesting, but only at a very shallow level of engagement.
Like a moth drawn to a flame, I am attracted to bumper sticker philosophies such as “Saint Francis hated Christianity but loved Christ” or “If you don’t transform your suffering, you transmit it.” But, when the truth behind the message gets too warm, I flee.
I keep playing the same chords over and over on my guitar as if I am trying to set free some melody, yet there is no melody there. My head goes back and forth between sunrises and sunsets, but the time in between seems mundane, lacking meaning, purpose. I want to create yet creativity has taken a hike.
I went to the doctor on Friday, the chiropractor on Monday, and had my teeth cleaned at the dentist today, Wednesday. I take pills like they are candy. One pill for this, one pill for that, another pill, another pill, another pill. My lab work said I was low in Calcium, another pill. I end each day by eating three dried apricots to “keep things loose!” I eat oatmeal, blah, bland oatmeal in the morning, but not too much because it is loaded with carbohydrates and we know how bad that can be.
What is the answer to this situation? In about 10 days the almond orchards will begin to blossom, pink and white blossoms everywhere you look. Then the cherry, peaches, plums, apricots, nectarine trees will blossom closely followed by the sweet fragrances of lemons and orange blossoms – all these trees will be in blossom surrounded by the busy, very busy, honey bees. The hummingbird will come and dip into the purpleness of the new lavender shoots. And, in my front yard are three recently planted dogwood trees, my favorite tree. The myth of the dogwood tree is that it was used to hang Jesus upon and Jesus sensed the sadness of the tree so he made sure it would never grow large enough again to be used for a crucifixion. When Jesus was resurrected, the dogwood trees blossomed in celebration. Soon I will sit in chair outside and look at the dogwood blossoms we have added to our yard. I will look at all the blossoms and the flowers that follow in the garden. I will stare at them intently, trying to comprehend the beauty of their colors. I will inevitably think about God with no additional understanding of the God mystery, just a fresh “Wow” in my heart.
Yes, I am nearing the end of the annual cycle of life and death. Spring, once again, will save me…from me. I will swallow my pills gladly and I might even add some more to the weekly container. I will be thankful for oatmeal. I will write a song or two. I will float in the pool and pick ripe cherries that hang over the edge. Yes, I am mentally a bit dead now, but soon, with the guidance of my sister, Mother Earth, and in praise of Creator, I will be resurrected, once more.
The Canticle by Saint Francis of Assisi
Most High, all-powerful, all-good Lord, All praise is Yours, all glory, all honour and all blessings.
To you alone, Most High, do they belong, and no mortal lips are worthy to pronounce Your Name.
Praised be You my Lord with all Your creatures,
especially Sir Brother Sun,
Who is the day through whom You give us light.
And he is beautiful and radiant with great splendour,
Of You Most High, he bears the likeness.
Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Moon and the stars,
In the heavens you have made them bright, precious and fair.
Praised be You, my Lord, through Brothers Wind and Air,
And fair and stormy, all weather’s moods,
by which You cherish all that You have made.
Praised be You my Lord through Sister Water,
So useful, humble, precious and pure.
Praised be You my Lord through Brother Fire,
through whom You light the night and he is beautiful and playful and robust and strong.
Praised be You my Lord through our Sister,
who sustains and governs us,
producing varied fruits with colored flowers and herbs.
Praise be You my Lord through those who grant pardon for love of You and bear sickness and trial.
Blessed are those who endure in peace, By You Most High, they will be crowned.
Praised be You, my Lord through Sister Death,
from whom no-one living can escape. Woe to those who die in mortal sin! Blessed are they She finds doing Your Will.
No second death can do them harm. Praise and bless my Lord and give Him thanks,
And serve Him with great humility.