Halloween in Pictures

Last night was trick-or-treat night for Des Moines. Fisher of course was Bigfoot and he came up with his own joke to tell. It went like this: "what's inside Bigfoot?.. Candy!" Very crafty wouldn't you say? Phoenix made for an absolute adorable unicorn. She refused to tell any jokes or say much of anything at each stop.

 We had an early start to contacting the Halloween spirit.

 Fisher has taken it upon himself to decorate the house every single day. Last night he told me it would be funny if he kept adding decorations all year long.

 Here's another one of his random artistic expressions--a cut-out pumpkin tied to a string and taped to the wall. I'm not even sure how he reached that high to tape it. I'm not sure I want to know.

 More of his work that he designs, cuts, and tapes up for display all over the house. This is one of my favorites (a monster).

 Unicorn and Bigfoot.

 Charging through the neighborhood shouting "candy!"

 I wore Phoenix's rocker wig from last year. I'm saving my other costume for tonight!

 We met up with the neighbor kids and walked for a time with them, until Fisher and Quinn kept fighting over who got to tell their joke first so we had to split them up.

 Their favorite house.

Heading home with a ridiculous amount of treats. See those red lips? I rarely wear makeup but I picked up some lipstick a few days ago and decided to wear it every day just because. It's nice to change it up now and then. 

To Wait

I can hear some critter in my basil plant--every so often there's the faintest sound like a raindrop on a petal that gives it away. It has no plans to go anywhere. It is alive fully in whatever it is that it's doing. In a word, it is patiently absolute. I am of the mind that once you decide something you go for it, and thus there is no second guessing and therefor no need to wait. But the world isn't always on the same time frame is it. Sometimes we have to wait...and wait...and wait. While my thoughts are absolute, I lack the heart for patience. But if I have no choice in the matter at times, it begs the question--who is in control of our lives? If we let the whims of time dominate our lives we might occasionally get lucky, but most often we'll feel stuck and frustrated and powerless. This is what I'm learning these days--it is better to let the moment and my current place therein dominate. Yes we have to look ahead but we can't live there. We can hope and decide but we can't put all of our stock in time frames. To be patiently absolute is to be in control.

A Poem On A Monday

There are places you can go to watch the Iowa DNR burn the prairie. I've gone to see it a time or two--the last time was near Iowa City, and the experience sparked this poem:

County Park

They burn the prairie, hope for wind,

control the wild before lightning does,

clear out evasive plants, raze the native

seeds asleep for years beneath,

their memories of buffalo, of native feet,

then schooners. We give the land back,

wash our hands in the smoke,

let orange heat breathe the life back in

to local texture. Miles west, open windows

claim the sacred scent. This is our birth

and death. Fire circles tall grass, two forks

connect, the flames insist, they mean

to blister. Pheasant and singed bits

lift from their blanket roots, as if from nowhere. 

All this sting to reclaim the flat tract of grass,

a kind of harvest our bodies know,

our living hardly felt without

failure, our having gone.

Casey Lord

How Are You Doing?

So far today three friends have asked--how are you doing? It's a question I've been asked a lot of late and not for the purpose of filling conversation, but with genuine purpose and wonder. Given the circumstances of my life right now, given the fact that huge changes are underway and the life I knew has shifted I suppose people expect to hear me answer a certain way--one peppered with sadness and the vision of me with my hands in the air in a grand gesture of how and why. But my answer is I'm well. I am utterly peaceful, forever optimistic, and truly thankful for the wisdom of experience. I'm awake. I'm not sitting back avoiding or forgetting, but rather forging and devouring and creating. So much of our personality lies dormant, only rising to the surface out of necessity and in small doses. But I feel completely tuned in to my spirit these days and it is light and searching and strong. I'll be fine no matter what. No matter the mood of the hour I remain unfazed. I live by that Einstein quote that I've written about in a previous post--the one that poses "the single most important decision any of us will ever make is whether to believe the universe is friendly." I think you know my decision--so there is only gaining. How could I not be well?

246

A few months ago I noticed an electronic billboard on I235 here in Des Moines started displaying the number of traffic deaths so far this year in the state of Iowa. I remember taking Fisher to school one day and it read 223. A few hours later when I drove to pick him up the number had changed to 225. As of yesterday it was 246. 246 lives ended on this pavement that spans like some web. Every time I see these numbers it gives me pause--I think about what's behind it--mothers and fathers and grandparents and friends and lovers and kids and siblings. People like you and me on their way to some job or running errands--ordinary things. And I look in the rear view mirror to my kids and think--lucky. And I peer at the other drivers on the road in their boxes of metal and think--be mindful. And I look at my speedometer and slow down. I love to drive, especially in a golden circus-like sun, with music, with the window down. It feels so solitary, yet we are in the hands of a much larger network all the while. Our lives entwined, relying on the moods and wits of others. It's a kind of blind faith. When the sun rises today I will view it with awed gratitude for the 246 who no longer can. And to the rest of you--take care, take care, take care.

Text Me

You know that old cliche that pictures tell a thousand words? Such statements form on tongues because they're frequently true and experienced by a wide audience. But sometimes they don't capture all the facts do they. Because the thousand words are created by the viewer. There's a name for that--subjectivity, whereby the perception and story belongs to the thinking subject rather than to the object of thought. And think of how our moods and attitudes influence our notions--our very nature is egocentric and sometimes we get it wrong. This is the problem with texting, where one can't see and hear the tone and expression of the sender. Emoticons can only go so far. Whatever we are feeling is exactly how we interpret a text. Think of all the misinterpretations that arise if this is our only mode of communication. More and more our society is relying on this medium and others like it that reject the humanness of things. What we gain in time we give up in understanding, in self expression, in truly connecting with others. I'm guilty of this myself--I've succumbed to texting more than making phone calls. I held out on getting a cell phone for a long time, was the last of my friends to finally get one. And I didn't get a smart phone until a year ago, didn't text all that often until 6 months ago. I've always been resistant to technology because I felt it took away from appreciating nature. And yet here I am and I will keep on texting. But I've learned that whenever I receive a text that stirs some emotion that I don't find pleasant, instead of stewing and responding with an equally negative emotion-laden text I will put the damn phone to my ear and make the call, will use my voice. Let's be clear with one another.

Poem, Pics, and Places

I feel like I barely had a moment to breathe this weekend because I gave my mind over to completing things. I painted the kitchen ceiling, put together a dresser, cleaned and organized every closet in the house, found a box spring and frame for Phoenix, found furniture, listed items on craigslist, attended a couple of parties, took my friend Tim out for a going away brunch, and did a whole lot of downsizing of things all in the span of a couple of days. I stayed up late and I cranked up the music. I have results...

 The neighbor kids had a Halloween party on Saturday. Bigfoot was quite pleased with his apple bobbing technique.

 This particular unicorn preferred the candy corn.

 Just starting in on building the dresser I picked up for Phoenix's room.

 Complete. (I won't mention the struggle of carrying the box into the house by myself or the pain in my back and neck and fingers from straining and hammering and screwing pieces...well I guess I just did).

 Tim is on his way to Las Vegas and then eventually Hawaii. The kids and I took him to brunch at Tacopocolypse on Sunday. It was the first time they met him and they warmed to him within minutes. I'm going to miss our talks, miss his wisdom. I'm thankful to have met him and become friends.

These hands of mine have been constructive. I ordered this sofa off of amazon and put the whole thing together last week (it came in boxes and pieces without even the back attached). Things are happening here on Ronwood Dr. 

All of my labor of late reminds me of a poem by Billy Collins, titled Splitting Wood. It's good stuff and you can read it here... (be sure to read the second page as well--it's a longer one).