I was supposed to go to the Farmer's Market today. I made my crunchy peanut butter and buckwheat honey sandwich. I limbered up for a day of stretching and hauling crates; punctuated by standing, talking and laughing. But the torrents of rain outside stopped me. The air temperature was just low enough to feel soggy. As I stood watching the sheets, Layla looked up at me waiting to see the day's direction. She's a puppy-- everything is just great with her.
Like so many times before, I made a choice. I weighed options and decided to stay home and make soap. And I mentally lectured myself not to torture myself and my family later with the wisdom of my choice.
Here's the rational I used to decide do I stay or do I go:
(Claudia's Voice of Rational Ego/Hell)- Hey, I PAID my dues all summer when it rained and dusted and oh yeah! how about two years ago when my tent blew over and all my soap was ruined, that might happen again... And --my van with the tempermental ignition coil probably won't start, cause it really hates dampness.
So I was thinking today while I made 16 pounds of White Tea and Ginger and 16 pounds of Toasted Coconut about... Obama.
Our young president was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize! This is the honor given to the individual who is beyond himself, who has transcended the ordinary in service to mankind.
It didn't take long for the talking heads to start channeling Morissey- "you just haven't earned it yet baby" The assumption being Obama hasn't put in seniority enough to deserve this prize. He hasn't suffered enough. More uppity? Or is it because he doesn't accept labels and limitations on himself. The trouble with seniority is it encourages the status quo. Protocol is stagnation. Do you have to have experiences to learn? I don't think so.
What is it about the shiny clean newcomer who hasn't got gravy stains on his tie that is annoying and makes us want to smack him down? When we feel small ourselves, we look at the world that way. Much better to be inspired, to integrate with the Hope-vibe Obama gives off.
Entitlement can take you only so far, then you have to think for yourself. Living in the moment-where the true power is (thanks homeboy Eckhart Tolle) When I mentally stack up all my past deeds and weigh them to decide today's action its like driving a car while looking in the rear view mirror. I love this metaphor cause it really shows the futility involved.
Oh, uh, speaking of motor vehicles... after a few hours of stirring, I could not stop myself from going out in the rain to see if the van turned over. It didn't. I was happy.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Steve's Cat
My friend Steve is not an animal lover.
He actually had never had a pet. The household he grew up in was animal-less. Food is expensive and should be saved for people, not furry, dirty, loud and useless animals who don't pull their own weight.
Steve is 6' 5" tall, with a wry sense of humor, a constant deadpan expression. He built his house himself and doesn't find that feat to be amazing in any way. I don't get to talk to him often. When he told me his cat story, my eyes were so full of tears I just kept blinking at him to see if there was a happy ending coming but of course he doesn't reveal that til he's ready.
Steve lives on a quiet street in a little town. He shares his home with his beloved bride, a second wife who appreciates him.
He told me last spring a little stray cat kept coming around the backyard deck. She wound around his legs and cried piteously. Something about her persistence and her lack of fear drew his attention kindly toward her.He put out bowls of milk- remembering from childhood books that was the food of choice for cats. He bought his first bag of cat food. Then he started reading the labels of the bags and eshewed corn-based products. Hooked, right?
In this way, the little stray was fed outside all summer, never staying around long. Some days she didn't appear, but Steve reasoned she was a wild creature after all, probably ate a few chipmunks that day. One day he heard a mewling and found a nest of baby cats under the deck. The little mother even carried a kitten to Steve... "to show me!", he said with amazement.
All this Nature was happening in front of him and he found it remarkable. He still didn't think of the cat as belonging to him, he was observing it, interacting with it.
Anyone who has seen the lion episode on the Nature Channel can't fail to remember what happens to unprotected baby cats. The babies were all killed by a tom cat.
This is where I verbally bellow--"Neuter your animals!"
Steve was moved beyond the clinical observation. He got it. But he didn't realize it yet.
He wrestled the lost soul into a box and took her to a highly recommended vet. He told the veterinary technicians he wanted her to be spayed "...so she didn't have to go through this again in the wild." They listened to him for a while, sizing him up probably.
They told him he was crazy.
"Nobody does this! This is a beautiful little cat and she is yours. We will spay her for you to take her home. To your house. Inside."
And now Steve has a cat.
He actually had never had a pet. The household he grew up in was animal-less. Food is expensive and should be saved for people, not furry, dirty, loud and useless animals who don't pull their own weight.
Steve is 6' 5" tall, with a wry sense of humor, a constant deadpan expression. He built his house himself and doesn't find that feat to be amazing in any way. I don't get to talk to him often. When he told me his cat story, my eyes were so full of tears I just kept blinking at him to see if there was a happy ending coming but of course he doesn't reveal that til he's ready.
Steve lives on a quiet street in a little town. He shares his home with his beloved bride, a second wife who appreciates him.
He told me last spring a little stray cat kept coming around the backyard deck. She wound around his legs and cried piteously. Something about her persistence and her lack of fear drew his attention kindly toward her.He put out bowls of milk- remembering from childhood books that was the food of choice for cats. He bought his first bag of cat food. Then he started reading the labels of the bags and eshewed corn-based products. Hooked, right?
In this way, the little stray was fed outside all summer, never staying around long. Some days she didn't appear, but Steve reasoned she was a wild creature after all, probably ate a few chipmunks that day. One day he heard a mewling and found a nest of baby cats under the deck. The little mother even carried a kitten to Steve... "to show me!", he said with amazement.
All this Nature was happening in front of him and he found it remarkable. He still didn't think of the cat as belonging to him, he was observing it, interacting with it.
Anyone who has seen the lion episode on the Nature Channel can't fail to remember what happens to unprotected baby cats. The babies were all killed by a tom cat.
This is where I verbally bellow--"Neuter your animals!"
Steve was moved beyond the clinical observation. He got it. But he didn't realize it yet.
He wrestled the lost soul into a box and took her to a highly recommended vet. He told the veterinary technicians he wanted her to be spayed "...so she didn't have to go through this again in the wild." They listened to him for a while, sizing him up probably.
They told him he was crazy.
"Nobody does this! This is a beautiful little cat and she is yours. We will spay her for you to take her home. To your house. Inside."
And now Steve has a cat.
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