Ten days or 18 from the potential end of the world, the transformational evolutionary loop or total extinction, we know not what if anything signified by the end of the Mayan calendar. If only a further deepening divide between factions, believers and the takers, the spirituals and the materials. Two ways of seeing the world that grow farther apart with each drawn-out hostile political battle, with each assumption of divine change by some who become the object of derision when their prediction fails to come true. These two sides, two (or more) ways of seeing the world, are becoming polarized from a common set of sources: the wedge between them thrives with malignant emotion. Love really is the only answer, giving, loving, thinking the best, making the most.
After weeks of bragging about how good my dog training setup is, I’ve gone and lost it somewhere between last night’s walk and now: if I retrace my steps from putting up hoses to cocktails maybe I’ll find it.
Hoses to cocktails and back again, fill the bird feeders; it’s morning, cocktails will have to wait. Where’s that transmitter? I’ll see it lying on the ground, it will be found, like the little golden frog. For now, I’m without it, the dogs can’t be loose in the forest with bucks in rut, random lions, confused bears.
Found! After filling the sunflower feeder, watering in the garlic, finding the next place to set the sprinkler. The last place I had it, I think, didn’t get quite enough yesterday, and there, I approach, I think I see the transmitter, but it’s a shadow. I stand there mulling… turn around, and there it is on the ground!
Oh well. It gave me something else to think about aside from all the things I should be doing and haven’t accomplished in recent weeks, months, and let me focus on observations in the garden. Now found, the dogs will be walked. And I’ll return to work on a deadline.