Monday, September 8, 2014

How To Be Some Days

Wake up, feel the morning despair wash over me. It rolls like a tide, I know it's going to be one of those days. Or mornings, at least.
Let the chickens into the coop. Feed the cats. Notice the drops of rainwater shining like Christmas ornaments in the morning light, suspended on the cherry laurel leaves. Read a blog post which is so stunning in its energy, its celebration of life that it throws me into a deeper level of self-loathing, self-doubt than the one I'm currently trying to hang on to, feel my fingernails start to slip as I descend.

Ah yah.

Drink some smoothie, notice this:

The hurricane lilies busting ground. Right on schedule.
The cat notices them too.

Something new in her jungle.

Check the progress of this.

The first firespike bloom. 

Notice these.

Mushrooms that look as if they are composed of dog shit and saw dust. Anybody know what they are? I won't be eating those.

Pull myself together. Go for a walk. See this.

Color and little glories. 

Sweat and breathe and have to turn back from part of the path as it has become a lake and the grass is too thick and probably tick-ridden to walk through. Bless the rain as it blesses us. Walk past the shady glen beside the road which every time I pass it, EVERY TIME, sends something through me- a message of magic. Ferns and fallen trees, palmettos and thick, thick pads of leaves, light streaming down, across, it is a sacred place. I can feel the bones of ancient people there, even more ancient animals, maybe Spaniards too. All part of the mulch of it, the food of it, the feel and density and color and cathedral-likeness of it. Know I do this for my soul more than for my body. 

Go by the post office. An old man with long white hair and two canes is yelling at the guy behind the window but it's only because he's so deaf he has to shout to hear himself. He is smiling. I hold the door open for him, he shouts, "THANK YOU!" He goes to his old van, chunks fallen off of it, the motor running like an asthmatic beast, pulled so close to the door that it's a little hard to get past it and inside. 

Get ready for the boys. I still have a place on this earth. Remember that. Every day is not going to be the best day but every day has its shining moments. 

Finally. Watch this.


About almost everything.


  1. It's actually raining a bit, here, so that's good. And you know I loved that video -- it was peace-making for sure. I hope the rest of your day opens up and is peaceful as well!

  2. Okay, yes. I watched it. I knew he visited, but hadn't seen the video... until just now. Thank you for sharing.
    I don't know about mushrooms, other than ones I buy in the grocery store to make my Ron soup. I don't much like them myself, and I know I wouldn't eat one in the wild.

  3. Ah Mary, I know that despair on waking, and you're doing the only thing one can do in the face of it, one foot in front of the other, one breath at a time, but how wise you are to ALSO notice all the beauty around you, the magic breaking through, the small moments, the anticipation of grandsons tumbling back into your arms, all of it. And that video, wow. Thank you for sharing it. That man has so many pressures on him, and it was wonderful to see him take a moment to immerse himself in the magic of that place. I am so glad, dear Mary, that I get to come here. You are magic, too.

  4. Thanks so much for that video. At least for a moment, he got some peace and childlike joy! We do too watching it. Hope your spirits pick up!

    Georgie J.

  5. Loved the video. Sorry you woke up to one of those days, sorrier still something happy you read made you fell less about yourself. I've been pondering a lot about guilt and self judgement this week, what a stupid thing to have going on inside of ourselves. Hope it has passed quickly and you are perfectly content now being just yourself, no judgement, no guilt, no loathing, just being, and noticing.

    Of course I'm noticing the asters and goldenrod and the undeniable presence of fall and it always gives me melancholy in its beauty.


  6. Elizabeth- There was a lot of chaos for awhile but now there is peace. And beer.
    And it's raining here too!

    Crystal Chick- For all I know these are the most delicious mushrooms in the world. I wish I knew more about them.

    Angella- Wasn't that video a wonder? Just watching him be there. He is so obviously intelligent and curious and receptive. I love that he noticed and remarked on the moss and that I learned from watching this that maritime moss grows there which really shouldn't but does.
    I just love him. I can't help it. Nor should I even try. And you know what? I love you too.

    Georgie- Thank you! I'm so glad you liked the video too.

    Mel- Yes, the forethoughts of fall, subtle yet real, can truly bring on melancholy. I'm better. It was just one of those days. Mornings can be so damn hard.

  7. Noticing the little things, the dog-shit mushrooms and the firespikes, is a sure path to feeling better. I think that's why photography buoys me up so much. It makes me really look around and take notice.


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.