Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Simpler Life
Man with a sunhat pulled low was heading to the the town library, riding a burro! Couldn't tell if he was coming in to town on errands or embarked on a journey into wild quietude. He was leading a pack burro.

It wasn't possible to stop even in small town traffic, and then I could barely stop my imagination. Would love to have talked to him.

I got to thinking about simplicity, voluntary or otherwise. Homelessness is already simplifying life for a large demographic in our make-believe economy, and events from our blindside may be moving haunches offstage.

Let's not get into tedious "doom-porn." Or TV fantasy-land, gorping on take-out pizza, fried something-like-chicken, super-size coke, etc. Or Type A frantic-life in the fast lane. 

All caricatures, and one by one, we come out of ensnarement.

We sense that governments are not entirely truthful, and the till clangs near empty. What simple things can we do in advance of sudden ohmigawd's?

Little bit here, little bit there, until and if we start down the fireman's chute. I was thinking about when I left Maine, heading out homeless, and all I left behind.

It was sleet and bitter wind time. A yard sale was not going to happen. One of the ten thousand things I gave away to friends was a really nice Bosch mixer: dough hook et al. It's in a good home now with great cook.

Moi, I've used a wire whisk and a wooden spoon in the four years since. I fantasize every now and then about a hand-crank class-act mixer, with a cautious eye to the energy grid, but I'm doing fine.

Planting a garden, a tomato in a pot, herbs on the windowsill can be empowering and feed your family with food to spare.

Am sipping a cool glass of homemade kombucha (a once a week task) with a splash of local organic apple juice, and ginger. It's cheap and more delicious than anything on a supermarket shelf. See "Kitchen Probiotics" at:

I think, I hope, we'll shift from waiting to be entertained, to choosing life, life as adventure. Burro-back, bicycle or sitting on a bench watching people, sea gulls or pigeons. Feeling our own haunches, and the arc of the seasons.

It's just an extraordinary time to be alive. 

Blue Ridge Mountains, 
Book III: 
Wayfaring Traveler,
end of summer!! 


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