A day of rain interrupts the normal flow of time with waves that will reverberate for several days. In the moment I make merry like the ducks, drinking the drops, splashing in every puddle, quacking my joy and unity in pleasure with all around me.
The garden chores get left as the beads turn into sheets, it will be too wet to return tomorrow, but the soil thirsts and I feel we all gasp in a simultaneous sigh of relief, such a much-needed time to quench after so very long. In the moment I celebrate, even as the dark clouds thickly blanket the sky and the Internet goes down. Now another avenue of work has been lost to fortune.
“The house needs a good cleaning,” attests my industrious side, “it’s barely 12:00, come on now, redirect, get busy!” But it’s been so very long, it’s hard to tear my attention away from it all–the roses getting showered, the grass gulping, the thunder rumbling, the severe spell of the Texas summer finally broken. It’s cause for a party!
In the days to come I will replant the seeds and seedlings we are undoubtedly losing as we relish in the moment. There’s nothing whatsoever to be done about it now. She gives and she takes away, we learn her ways, not the other way around. But, is that really true?
Nature is the best cure for many ills, and I wonder if narcissism isn’t also one of them. “I grew those!” I say with pride to no one in particular, admiring and inhaling the full colorful blooms each time I pass. I made it rain when there was no rain. I brought balance to the soil where it had no balance. I created space where it was overgrown. I drew, organized, directed, got dirty, stayed vigilant. And from those efforts, life flourished in the way it was intended.
It would seem to me nature responds to us, as we respond to her. Science is trying to prove this is true, spirit has of course sung it all along, and while it’s far too easy to get lost in the potential of what’s possible, when you garden, still you learn this, to a large degree, as a matter of course. I am one strand of an intricate web I cannot see. I’m always just a few steps away from disaster–control the ants, voles, birds and weeds–plan for the sun, drought, wind. Then watch it flood, with a smile of gratitude if possible, and redo it. I make it a zen experience, like the artist-monks who create masterpieces in sand only to sweep them away the next day.
I like to pretend sometimes I can see the web, or at least some of the larger threads. I have no way of knowing if these aren’t also illusions. Only one of twelve avocado seeds I tried to root became a tree. I know this as fact, but I don’t have but a few clues as to why. What aligned, or did not? The light, the moisture, the medium were all identical. In truth I can only hack away at the possibilities, experiment and collect data, and hope, but I cannot know absolutely.
The quality of observation, the integrity, humility, consistency and openness of the observer–I’ve caught myself at it again and again–stop expecting a certain result, stop making assumptions–they may have a way of coming true. If the popular science is right and if my gardener’s hunches are valid, she responds to us as we respond to her. Ignore or inflate your role at all our peril.
All is frequency and vibration, Tesla proclaimed. He, like every other great mind worked, created, invented by observing nature. Yet the push of the state is always away from nature and toward the artificial. One would think that clue enough as to why it will never function properly. Control is man’s law, not nature’s. Reality TV in place of real relatedness. Virtual experience in place of life. Spying instead of transparency. Why?
Love or fear?
It rains still: 3:00 in the afternoon looks like 7:00 in the evening. We’ve been in or near drought conditions for years. Our first year here, still camping and building the cabin, the first project had to be a culvert just to be able get to our camping spot. For those first years it would rain for days, until we could keep nothing dry at all and all smelled of mold.
We tried whiskey and endless hours of reading until we returned, rather defeated but relieved, to our comfortable apartment in the city, singing the praises of porcelain and sitcoms. We were at last in control of the elements, or at least the plausible and temporary illusion of control.
The rain water tanks just over-topped now for the first time in at least four months and the sheets are powerful enough to watch the drops bounce from the ground like infinite silver pebbles across a lake surface. The puddles fill to rice paddies then begin running in rivulets through the lawn, along the mounds then hills, down to the ravine and out to the creek.
Not until my life here and now have I known rain as only blessing, no matter what else it may bring in its wake. If the results take days or even weeks to rectify, who cares, I can’t but love it. I can’t but drink it in and laugh and lick and dance beneath the torrents, soak us, yes, please, we will recover. The alternative is unbearable.
Love or fear. At the root of all human emotion and therefor the human condition according to New Age ideology, it all boils down to only fear or love. If we see and feel and create only love this is what will be mirrored all around us to create Heaven on Earth, utopia, the Garden of Eden, the promise of ease and the end of suffering that has kept man striving on through the ages. I think it’s far more complicated than simply love or fear, but I can appreciate the sentiment and the push to simplify. I believe there are a dozen emotions or more bubbling at our core, but man’s obsession with control has all but buried the bulk of them in cement.
Two one-hundred-year hurricanes and a fairly good dose of nature later I can say with complete confidence, nature’s reality does not scare me like man’s does. We’ve been able to deal with her blows for a good long time now, individually and collectively. Create the conditions for thriving, just like in the garden, and then step back. Control is not the goal, co-creation is.
The social engineers believe control will create utopia. If they can figure out how to construct the web themselves they can control all the threads and keep the world spinning to their tune. The string-pullers believe in their duty and benevolence and the ends always justify the means.
The designers want us to keep striving for perfection with Transhumanism being one of their latest favorite buzzwords. They want us in eternal therapy in order to get healed from their repeated failed attempts at perfection. They shamelessly promote Big Brothers and Helicopter Moms and sweeping so-called reforms re-naming control “safety.” Once they create order out of chaos all will be solved and they will at last be able to wall in the garden once and for all.
But a good dose of natural law will rid the field of every last narcissist, eventually.
We don’t need rulers at all. We don’t need anyone telling us who must be warred against and who must be followed, what we must strive for, and what must be taught and grown. We need only accept we are strands in the web, and then learn and teach how to tap into the frequency nature is weaving with us in abundance.
This requires some serious un-schooling and re-education. If the mass of men, even those professing themselves on enlightenment’s path, can reduce the infinite possibilities of the human experience down to two emotions, and then call this evolutionary, we’re not modeling nature at all.
Here’s a good feeling for that: Sad.(From wiki: “Sacred geometry can be described as a belief system attributing a religious or cultural value to many of the fundamental forms of space and time. According to this belief system, the basic patterns of existence are perceived as sacred, since contemplating one is contemplating the origin of all things. By studying the nature of these forms and their relationship to each other, one may seek to gain insight into the scientific, philosophical, psychological, aesthetic and mystical laws of the universe.”)
There’s nothing else in nature as simple as only love or fear, why would our feelings be any different? Emotional and biological reductionism would seem to be the opposite of evolution, thwarting to self-knowldge and antithetical to sacredness. How is it so prevalent?