Day Ninety One 2017 One Small Log
April 1, 2017
Fort Sumner, New Mexico
Day Ninety One 2017 One Small Log
I slept terribly last night. Somewhere between the wind and the rain, the noise of each interspersed by those of humanity, I could not find the peace I required to rest. Something else also, though I will never know if it was something I ate or the moon and the stars that would not allow me to still myself. Finally, in the quiet of the latest night or early morning, I rested well enough. The errant thoughts of the restless night gave way to quiet contemplation and I awoke well enough. Still yet the wind blows and the sky is dark and grey again. Building a fire here means the peaches will freeze in Nogal, sadly, but I am absolved from my guilt also. The trees will live without water, but never bear fruit, and at least I’m not to blame.
If I cannot seek inspiration elsewhere today so I can still strive to create it. Today is just such a day for that, the wind strong and the air cold and uninviting. I will only go outside for necessity but I am well prepared to fill the day otherwise. I am still working on replenishing my spirit and even if nature brings her own form of disruption, rocking my bus in the wind and chilling the air outside, so I can find the peace I require deep within myself. I have grown to be quite good at this even if I do not always practice it and my desire to purvey the same to others gives me the incentive to continue! If I have found the avenue to the serenity we all so desire it is also my duty to point it out to others if they wish to follow. Though the path is sacred it is meant to be shared by those who may honor it also.
This is a day to do as there is little else it has to offer. With no desire to go out of doors it is a day to build a fire and to be still. I am not in need of distraction as I am satisfied with the projects at hand, to first gather my thoughts and then to create more inventory of my artwork. Though much of what I am doing these days is handwork, cutting, hole punching and stitching leather, there is the creative aspect of ornamentation also, and of creating new designs, all which appeal to me today. When I feel creative I can branch out and make new designs and appurtenances, when I grow tired I can stitch…….All of this fulfills my need to be productive while leaving my mind to wander or focus as it will, both of which I need more time to do. I may put on some music later but for now the silence, even with the howl of the wind, is a comfort, though I wish it would be still.
There is room but for one small log in the fire box, but it will serve its purpose well. I revel for a moment in the simplicity of my life and I am grateful for the reminders of that. What that this should be all that I need or desire and that is so much of the allure of the Nogal House and the way of life it has to offer me. I could well do without any other form of distraction even if there are aspects of my professional life I enjoy also. I just don’t want to have to do it every day! Even today I will need to do some of that, though I will allow for as little as possible. Today is meant for me and I will replenish my stores all that I can. The simple tasks of wood, water and word will fill my time well enough! Where someone else might sit before their TV and allow their thoughts to be directed elsewhere I will allow for none of that, the very moment is too precious to be lost.
I read yesterday of the lives of the men and women who came to this place before me. The pictures and captions were posted on the walls of the courthouse in Santa Rosa, New Mexico, which sits along the infamous Highway 66 of old. It told the story of the men who built the highway and the women and children who followed along with their efforts, for the work was long and tedious without any of the modern equipment we employ now. They too often lived in tents and wagons as they were ever on the move and had to carry water and wood to survive. Theirs was a precarious existence at best, what with their children in tow and all the same needs that our own still need to this day.
If I still yet might have chosen to trade places with them for the challenges of my modern life, even if I chose to live a more primitive existence than most, so I am most fortunate to be here. I can consider their struggles on days such as this when their tents would be ripped from the pegs and their belongings scattered in the desert. I might yet complain of the cold draft and the rocking of my shelter but I am warm and dry and basking in that luxury as I contemplate their plight. I even have room for inspiration, and to dream of distant places as I watch the trains rolling along the tracks, yet another backbreaking contribution of those who came before. Their lives might have been simpler and more purposeful in so many ways but mine leaves room for a level of inspiration which they had so little time for. I need but one small log to warm my space while they would have been wishing for a fire.