My Head Up In The Clouds

Clouds 2

September 27, 2017

Nogal House

Vera Cruz, New Mexico

 

My Head Up In The Clouds

 

I stepped out the door this morning and found my head up in the clouds. I was surrounded by the heavy mist of a light morning rain, such as soaked the ground through the night. The mountains are cloaked with the clouds and if it seems clear from here to the hillside it is instead the fine sheet of moisture such as comprises the clouds. In the distance the fog tightens and obscures the distant views.

 

Today is a day to stay beside the fire, at least until it clears. I hope it does not. If I have learned anything in these last few days it is that I need the stillness today has to offer. Yes, I might find things to do, there are many, but so they can wait. If just a few days ago I woke to utter peacefulness, having stepped away for a moment and made a dry camp, so I need to repeat that now. If I can step back out into the world at a moment’s notice, so too I can remain here, behind my gate, in sanctuary. I require that for now.

 

My head is in the clouds this morning. I lay still upon waking to savor the stillness and found the same when I arose. Last night’s fire left a bed of coals and the fire woke in an instant. Even the water was still hot, and if I lit the gas stove to make tea so I bathed my face without the same effort. I opened the door and stood on the porch to say my morning prayer, and then returned to the warmth inside. If the cool mist caressed my face so the warm fire embraced me. I have no need for anything else. Today is the time to reflect on my blessings and leave the worldly worries for tomorrow. I live in the land of manana for that reason!

 

My woodpile waits for the sun to return. I have added a row to my store and there is at least its equal in ready to be cut. It is an effort I enjoy and when completed I will seek more of the same. Even it can wait, and I am grateful for the respite. If I had a garden it would be a day for canning, in its absence I will preserve my thoughts, and then move on with other creations. It is a day to put my hands to my artwork, and I look forward to that also. It is, in its own way, a self-preservation, for my creativity is the key to my freedom. If I wish to remain here I will have to harness that, while keeping the joy of it safe also. It is time to learn that lesson and I have put it off for long enough.

 

How many times I have come and gone from this place in search of such freedom! I have come and gone from the start, and I have always returned. I have ventured far away and I have been close, but never so content as when I am here. I can feel the pain of it now as the happiness returns and I pray I can preserve it. It has been a far greater struggle than I anticipated and I now see the damage I have done in the effort. If there were lessons to learn and adventures to be sought I am not sure it was the right choice. I can find my happiness wherever I am but here it is nearly a constant.

 

As I reaffirm my presence I am finding a heartfelt desire to stay, no matter what that effort requires. Never has my time been more precious, or the peacefulness here more poignant. Even as I added to the woodpile yesterday I asked myself if I would be here to use it all, and prayed that I would be. Whatever I choose there will be struggles but the ones here are a given, and I will always be warm and safe if I stay. I have used my debts as the excuse to seek my fortune, but find for more riches from here, even in the absence of much income. I can meet my obligations either way, and my time and happiness have a far greater value than any gains I seek elsewhere.

 

For today I will not concern myself anything further than that. I need not but push a button and the whole world opens up. With that at my fingertips I have all the more reason to remain still, the resources are available enough. For today I will remain apart and revel in the simplicity I have surrounded myself with. The woodpile is high, the fire cackles in the stove and the clouds have settled even lower on the mountains. It is raining to the south even though to my north and east the blue skies are breaking through. I step outside at the call of the jays to watch them leap from tree to tree. Yesterday they flew into the air and swirled for the pure joy of it, today they stay low in the cold, seeking shelter instead. I shivered in the cold breeze and retreated inside.

 

I will take another day for myself, I am healing my spirit. The way forward may be a challenge, or perhaps it will not, it is my choice. I have never wanted for more than I have at this moment, and there is a lesson in that statement. I have stepped away in search of what I thought was right, only to come back. I have retreated here for solace and comfort each and every time. Some of the happiest times of my life have been lived from this very place or others so like it. I have dreamed of the time when I could remain and make my way with my words and my art. If I don’t do it now, when will I? I will have to keep my head in the clouds to find out!

 

Footnote: The sky and the ground is full of birds, the jays scattered everywhere and others amongst them, as if for my sole entertainment. The jays harsh cries bring me a thrill and I watch them leap and fly, perhaps readying themselves for a longer flight? My gaze is so intent that I can see all the floaties in my eyes. It occurs to me that if I should ever go blind they will have to lead me out to the hillside and give me a chair. I will sit there and feel the wind on my face and listen for the jays. The image of their joyfulness shall never fade from my memory. My serenity returns after an extended absence!

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