Ok… I can post photos now. I had to honor this little pygmy owl since I killed it. All my hot air about running on bio-diesel means naught against this little life. It was in the grill of my car when I was coming home from Arcata.
Frack Free Butte County was back at Board of Supervisors chambers last week to hear about what the Supes intended to do about Bakken Crude coming down the treacherous Feather River Canyon. They did press forward for some emergency measures but were pretty inert about standing up for the water supply and health of over 22 million people.
One small thing I could do for my Riparia community (after how supportive they were for us during all we went through in 2014,) was to take folks out for the treat of John McCutcheon at Sierra Nevada. Emily was sick and Guthrie lives a continent away. We are here– Sheldon, Penni, Bob, Mirza (visiting from Belize,) Caroline, Leslie, me, Orien and Sue in front. It was wonderful except I went all weepy during “Turn, Turn, Turn” (“a time for every purpose under heaven…”)
And this is my CSA family. I won’t say everyone’s names but this meditation, this deepening into the wellspring of consciousness, the space where sensing allows healing to take place and so much more… its been my salvation for years. If I had to depend on my personality, my brain, or my emotions I’d be in a fine kettle now.
I did have one meditation, during our four intensive days together, when my grief was like a scalding poker in the core of me… an unbearable sensation except that it was met at the micro level with Love and compassion in perfect measure and alignment… one of those bitter sweet experiences but at such a depth and with such magnitude I can only say I’m grateful. Grateful for my Life. For Michael’s Life. For our time together and for all those who inhabit my life now and keep it rich and decidedly worth living.