Deep peace of the quiet earth to you. 

A hollow-boned approach.

January 9, 2018


As part of my jobby-job (i.e. my day job), I've been reading a lot about birds, and I've suddenly realized how rarely I look to another species for a kind of nonverbal approach to better living. I mean, I spend hours watching the birds in my own woods, but it's never occured to me how much they don't fight the elements, how much they don't fight against circumstance, how much they don't fight against a blizzard, say, simply because a visit to the feeder is what they normally do at 9 a.m.


It's also got me thinking how silly it is to impose all these rules and expectations on ourselves, and yes, plans. Plans may be the death of us, I'm convinced. A list? That's okay--without lists, most of us (am I projecting, or is it just me?) would be lost. But to expect to get all of that done in a given timeframe? Who are we? What kinds of superhuman powers do we think we possess? Just because we walk on two legs, wear clothes, and buy stuff doesn't make us superior in any way, especially when it comes to our own good, our own instinct, and our own common sense. 


We can't dictate how a day will go, but we can allow the day to come in. We can throw the door open, and pause a moment, waiting to see which way the wind and weather will gather us, then assigning that momentum to the item on the list most easily lifted, most easy carried. 




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This Quiet Earth