Then it's not miserable

Big plop, plop, ploppy drops of rain fall onto the vardo's roof. Not quite the sort of weather you'd expect for a mid-July, but then ... expectations have a way of becoming a way too tiny kind of box. This from a woman who lives in a wagon no bigger than some people's walk-in closet.

Pete's just come through the door after washing the dishes using the big stock pot filled with 'Jude Water' (we haul water from friends' wells ... friends who don't have chlorine in their water; chlorine makes me very sick). The buckets of water, now empty, were from our friend Jude.

Our outside living space under the awning works best inside the drip line. Today is one of those days when a tall lean frame like Pete's fits just right.  

Perspective

Up the stairs,

Onto the porch,

Through the door. It's cozy inside, and the rain stays outside.

Then it's not miserable

The mosquito comes in with Pete,

I clap my palms together with vigor, the way I close the door, 

and that mosquito no longer sucks my blood.

 
Then it's not miserable.


We'll be moving again. Not tomorrow, but perhaps the end of the month. We knew this was a temporary camp ground, and are grateful for the goodness! What I can't do much about is the mold; the damp does me in. My lungs and I turn to Swamp Woman. The weeks of respite, quiet, and aloha have been restoring. The cycle of moon rises, sun rises, moon sets and the shrinking and expanding light of Mahina have been reflected in the damp that collects here on the southern knuckle of Whidbey Island.  Days after we moved here an Alder snapped splitting herself, landing where I would have (put didn't) parked 'Scout' the Subaru. ...

The other night, when all the big drops of rain and a tremor of quaking was happening, the Alder's remaining trunk slowly and steadily arched over the driveway. This morning, the young land owner from next door showed up with her giant of an uncle with large gas-powered chain saw and a diesel truck. With truck running all through the early morning tree removal frenzy, Pete was out there to help after moving his truck safely out of the way.

Trees attract rain.
Trees draw the water up from the roots.
Trees, like Alder, get heavy, they don't anchor deep.

Leaning is their way.

The challenge, and the grace, of life for me, and for Pete is based on collecting and managing the damp (the water) that flows or stagnates in our life. We are both Water Sun Signs: to thrive we need to allow the water to be at its best. We're different water signs; Pete's a side-winding crab and I am an insect (or an Eagle depending on your beliefs about astrological archetypes). Crabs like the solidity of sand to make their way. The Scorpio will dive deep for clarity even without 'seeing.' Just how do you make your way with all that water? 

One of my favorite water-women, a Pisces (the third water sign of the zodiac) offered this, an answer, from her Weekend Love Forecast:

 "One thing about Pisces-Neptune energy is that it diffuses power imbalances; those differing levels can exact pain. It’s a chance to alleviate pain by connection, using connection to heal yourself- by relaxing into lateral balance. Healing isn’t always “reversing damage”. Healing can be allowing yourself to flow back into a state of health.

Disconnection is unhealthy." - Satori

This month of living on Scatchet Head has me thinking about what keeps us together, Pete and me. My long-time astrology favorite, Elsa Panizzon wrote a piece about destiny, and on her blog ElsaElsa in March, 2009. Almost to the day a month before we finished building Vardo for Two, the Golden Wagon she came me a way to connect with her.

First stop on our way to 'Outside Life', April-November, 2009

I was not looking for that ten year old post, which speaks of her partner and husband to be, with a keen and steady understanding of his 'destiny.' He is one aware of and accepting of his many lifetimes on this planet. I found this old post because I needed to read the comment I left in the threads.

" Elsa,
Reading your story and question/comment "and the burning question does not have to do with him but with me. Er… why me?” I would offer something that is true for me and my partner.

My husband is a very old soul with lifetimes of hard work, old blood and the hands that show it. Physically we are as different as two people could be. His trials and his destiny are all about work and his methods of doing things influenced in this life by being the youngest of seven kids. He has worked since we was a boy in the farm country.

I am a newbie to Earth, and yet aware of life on different levels in the Universe. I have a great foundation of faith, an incredible will and courage to handle plenty of loss, difficulty and sacrifice. We come at life with very different tacks … I dig up solutions and climb mountains to get the right vantage point. My faith in Source is big. My husband maintains the course with work that he sees right in front of him, and grows from my meandering ways.

The thing that maintains us here, together, is the energy of our searches together. Combined we get through life and what is important raises to the surface, again and again … even if it means we get sunk with Neptune waves over and over.

Two old souls — two rhinos/two bulls/two old goats may compete for the right to lead, I am finding that one old Crab and one new Insect(maybe because we know this is true for us) make the journey so much sweeter/tender/loving…funny the way this unfolded..."

Then it's not miserable.

Reading what I wrote ten years ago, I felt part of a fairy tale. An old story, not Disney-like but rather the tale that,

  "Unlike myths, which are about gods and superheroes, fairy tale protagonists are recognizably ordinary working people, toiling at ordinary occupations over a long period of history, before industrialization and mass literacy." - from 'I'm telling you a story ...', Myth & Moor

Except, this fairy tale is a now thing. We are ordinary people, recognizable through the vessel of blogging, toiling at this wagon-centric life. In the comment I left with Elsa, I wrote: "I am a newbie to Earth." And, that is what makes this important ... I am a seventy, almost seventy-two year old woman still very new with only one other Earth-life to navigate human ways. There is so much to learn, and this lifetime is one full bodied immersion; feels like I'm working from the ground up.

I think most of what I wrote in 2009 remains true. Though we have weathered and worn down from the journey and the Pluto transit through Capricorn has mashed me to a pulp. An inconvenient version of being human challenges other human's comfort with their choices. I married a long tall White American with old blood and lifetimes of memories about being with people. He married a short round Asian and Pacific Islander with connection to Spirit yet little experience with cooperation. Worn from the inconvenience of being highly sensitive and spirited ... we settled into a wagon. A Wagon. Not a House. Not an Apartment. A Wagon. The whole story is layered, and lumpy, and like a mortar and pestle we have been grounded down.

Another way of being tinctured.

When we waited for the ferry Friday evening after a day in Seattle's Beacon Hill neighborhood, we stood in line at Iver's in Mukilteo. I was going for a cone, Pete wanted hot chocolate. Behind me I heard a young girl talking with her father.

"I don't know if I want vanilla, or chocolate. What do you think I should get?"
"What do you like?" the man asked.
There were moments of pause.
"I think I'll have both! Yeah, a chocolate and vanilla swirl"

There was my sidewalk oracle. I've been practicing being open to them, and they come!

When it was my turn to order, I said, "I'll have a chocolate and vanilla swirl cone." Soft serve ice cream is not new to me. I've ordered and eaten many before, but, always vanilla. Friday was a small and memorable shift. An insight.This old woman, a newbie to Earth was ready to choose to swirl.

Then it's not miserable.


Here's one last something to make its way into my Post-for-Pay. It's like, If you're going to be different and difficult, could you put on a costume, oh ... and use that Asian dialect. Gag me!
No! Go Vivian! Listen to this ...

We watched the movie White Rabbit the other night. Actress Vivian Bang's character portrays a young Korean artist living her art in real life. She doesn't marry rich, isn't famous, but is complex and living that. The trailer above nips together bits and pieces of the seventy minutes of a many layered life. Inconvenient, and to express it all makes it...

Then it's not miserable.

I ate something that was off, and then boom! Off I was. To care for myself, I made Jook. Chinese comfort food that reminds me of my Aunty Lorraine, and was exactly what I needed to flow myself back into health. If you've never made Jook, buy yourself a copy of Janet Reich Elsbach book Extra Helping Recipes for Caring, Connecting & Building Community One Dish at a Time. The recipe for Congee, or Jook/Juk is on pages 104, 105. Jook is not a new thing for me, but Elsbach's recipe is. This one is simpler and simply comforting delicious.

The combination of activities over the past week:

Heavy rain
Creaking and slowly toppling Alder
Earth quakes
Lunar eclipse/full moon
Wagon door swells shut
We sink an inch like never before
Moldy edge-living
A Friday appointment into Seattle
An afternoon by myself in Beacon Hill
Eating a chocolate and vanilla swirl soft serve ice cream cone
Food poisoning
Jook making and eating
Watching White Rabbit
Reading astrology archives
Sitting to tincture all this life into a post to flow myself back to health ...

Then it's not miserable.

It may be just part of being new to earth, and growing old. Patching one piece to another. This post is a zigzag stitch of patchwork. Luck for me love stitching, and appreciate that in this lifetime there is Internet, YouTube, White Rabbit Movie, and a partner who remains exceptionally curious still about who I am, and who we can be together.

 

 Link here to learn more about Jude Hill & Spirit Cloth

What makes your life worth it? Do you combine and swirl with people and things different than you? 

If this post makes you wonder about the conveniences or inconveniences in your life, or you simply enjoyed reading a contemporary fairy tale, consider sending me a tip so I can keep putting these tales together. A Newbie to Earth, writing my way tells my story -- all the difference in the world. And then? I send it out to you.

Do you believe in reincarnation, and appreciate how this life is ... karmic so you live with that in mind? I'd love to hear about it.

To send me a tip, and token of your appreciation for the work I do to tincture these posts, send me an email at mokihanacalizarATgmailDOTcom. I will reply to you with a THANK YOU SO MUCH, and send you my snail mail address where you can mail cash, or check to keep this flow going.

When we move from 'the Knuckle' of the south end of Whidbey we will need to fill up the rent envelope to pay for camping again. To read how these Posts-for-Pay help make our way, and help pay the rent go here.

Another way to help show your appreciation for my writing is to share this post with your friends, your family, your people. Copy this link and include it in your email.

Thanks so much. E Ola Mau,

Mokihana