It’s going to rain all this week, they say. Some wildflower seeds are germinating out there; I planted them today, along with some petunias under my grow lights in the basement. I harvested some of our first leaf lettuce from the aerogarden and mixed it with some store romaine for those guys.
The way forward is clear for me.
Do what you can to change things, to help; leave the rest to some higher power, or at least something beyond your control. Need to have some optimism that there is some overall “is-ness” at work.
Some synchronicity. Some order in the chaos.
Faith –for me anyway–is all that’s left. It’s definitely all that’s left for me. The only hope to right the ship. Faith that people will do right. Faith that we can put a foot in front of the other. Faith that we can stay safe for a while at least. Faith that there is something or somebody bigger than ourselves.
I had a lovely steak and shrimp and scallops, seared. It was nice. And the Hemingway documentary was good again. One more night tomorrow night.
Tomorrow is house cleaning. That will feel good. To putter here, do some exercise, drink dark brewed coffee, eat a steak and some eggs maybe. I definitely feel better now that I am eating ruminant meat and more of it. Chicken and seafood probably add something, but they are sides in comparison.
Thurs. and Friday are busy with Dad’s appointments, so tomorrow sounds restful, sort of.
The weather seems to have turned and spring is approaching. I’m reading a lot. Thomas Lynch, Bodies in Motion and At Rest, Hemingway A Moveable Feast, Jordan Peterson Beyond Order. It’s helping me get focused back into my work.
I am starting to imagine blogging about writing; blogging about writing; blogging about life. And that’s good.