Planting Merrells and the Information Portal

So the week starts out with a wet blanket of what's to come. I have become just fascinated with the despairity of getting up with chutzpah at 4 am and muscle through to about noon, versus the dark cloud that moves in overhead late afternoon through to evening. Not whining, don't want to, but observing the movement of my environment.

We went out on the weekend to just get ourselves in our surroundings. We are fortunate since we live in a forest or I call it a high desert with faded trees. I lived in the city and I loved it and still do, I can also remove myself from the chaos. So we drove out to what we call Mutau Flats, which is like driving from the Hollywood Bowl to Fairfax High. Just a point of reference. Close but not that close.

At some point my phone did not work in that area and I sat reading the latest issue of Modern Farmer, a hip progressive magazine for those wanting to connect back to growing, raising and harvesting. Yes hip, on beautiful paper, great graphics and wonderful editorials. Concerned about the bees, raising heritage turkeys that aren't sickly like butterballs and a historical region of African American farmers. One of the few mags I read cover to cover.

Got through that and just sat there, my info portal glaring "no service" in the corner of the screen. So everything I wanted to do I realized involved the portal. I again looked around, opened the window, pulled my keys out of the ignition and got out. Now what? It was quiet, still and I have no idea where the BF went off to. I should mention he was looking or "glassing" for quail. I know I am usually on the hunt for rocks for landscaping and by this time I would have filled the bed of my truck halfway with all sorts of "special" rocks. One of many Lucy moments. So I changed gears.

I have a friend that taught me that when things seem chaotic and it leaves you flapping in the wind, you have to get grounded. Realize I generally don't subscribe to that sort of new agey thing. But I am always open to trying anything if it makes me feel better, outside of addictive drugs. So I proceeded to do that, but first I looked around to make sure I was really alone, animals excluded.

I planted my black Merrells on the dirt ground trying to find a patch of some sort of greenery. I placed my arms along my side and just closed my eyes. I focused: this is me, this is my being, these are my feet on this ground. Nothing is changing, this can't be taken away from me and I can't be harmed as long as I hold firm and have a weapon close by. So I just went over those general thoughts. For about 10 minutes I just was there in my being and you know the chant.

Eventually I stopped, saw a "special" rock and started to fill my truck a little. Of coarse I heard a couple of gunshots, remembered an episode of some true life creepy story that happened on the Appalachian Trail and got in the truck. Soon after, the BF came sauntering down with his equipment and we were through for the day.

Did I feel better? Did it give me the epiphany of a lifetime? Do I know the secret of life? Not really, but for that day, I felt safe in my head, in my skin, in my environment. Of coarse as soon as I hit reception, the informational portal dinged away with everything and everyone I was missing.