Since 99.99999999% of the known universe is space there is lots of room for all manner of questions, like is mathematics discoverable or created? What is intuition? When is the best time to plant cucumbers? Is there ice cream?
move like weather, seemingly impersonal storms, showers, hot and dry spells, shifting unpredictably and bringing change of perspective. Who’s in charge of this?
In her garden, the tomatoes tumble up and over the sweet peas that were planted too late and therefore compete with rather than do the linear thing she was hoping for and she can’t bear to sacrifice the sweet scent earlier than its natural demise. Beets wander through spinach, lettuce, and brussel sprouts, and there are cabbages that would make Baba happy along with dill and lemon cukes tucked between blueberry bushes - not those tiny ground cover plants she picked in the primeval Northern Saskatchewan permafrost forests of childhood.
Her collaged dinner plate reflects the garden moment rather than a recipe that would involve a purposeful search for ingredients from who-knows-where-and-when. Leave the recipes to others, she sighs. Collagers eat as well as create their surprises.
Flexibility works well on The Way, not getting entrenched leaves open the possibility of everything as resource. Nothing specific required. No agenda needed, just going with and where the friends want to take her, the music, the paint brush, the words, the paintings, and most of all the feeling in the belly that says …… “this way, oh, a little over here, more red, less white, shake it out with this beat… a walk would be good …. more tea”. Ahh ....
creep in the cracks of a shadowy night, black mood, chilling comment … but they rarely find purchase in the light of The Way day. They are friends who ask questions, keep her from floating away, drifting into neverland forever, help her manage her enthusiasms, but never to be left alone in charge - they make a mess of that.
Like unwelcome intruders they move in and get comfortable - sadness, anger, grief, despair, waiting to be appreciated and acknowledged, to share their gifts. On a good day she treats them like guests, serves some tea and pays attention to what they might bring.
is watery movement run amok that throws everything into chaos smashing things together that really don’t belong. There is no protection from this on The Way. You can’t even retreat to the hills with scissors and glue because there are Larger Forces there too. So she makes sure to be grateful for the non tsunami days.
Since it’s all confabulation to one degree or another as described by Those-Who-Should-Know, like Albert Einstein who says “Imagination is more important than knowledge” and Pablo Picasso who notes that “Everything you can imagine is real.” might as well enjoy the truth unfolding through imagination in that perfect quantity of enough, exactly as it is right now, right here, influenced by all the comings and goings. Amen