All is Calm

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It’s January 4th and I’m just finding the space to think about this new year, celebrate it in my small ways, step out on the land and marvel at the passage of time, the contrast between the ticking time of my physical heart and the sweep of geological ages.  Isn’t it funny to be so young and fleeting compared to a wedge of towering basalt upon which ancient lichens grow?  Life is full of juxtapositions.  I can’t help but marvel at it all.

I have noticed the growing trend of choosing a word for the new year, a word that encapsulates what you’d like to become, what you’d like to work on, what you would like to let go of…and while I don’t have a specific word to apply to 2017 I have been ruminating on something I would like to practice in my life with even more fervor.  This year, I intend to work even harder at remaining calm.  When everything falls to pieces or when someone treats me terribly or when I don’t get my way in life or when I suffer total failure…I want to remain calm.  Beyond practicing calmness, I want to find myself in the habit of immediately moving into a problem solving state of mind — I want to find myself recognizing the disaster and instead of reacting emotionally, I want to fluidly engage my ability to critically think and logically process my way through a dilemma.

I look at the world around me and I worry that North Americans have become prone to hysteria and hysteria feeds hysteria and even morphs into histrionics at times.  I don’t like it.  In point of fact, I find it self-indulgent, juvenile and even embarrassing to witness, especially in adults.  Babies are allowed to totally lose it, not 25 year old men and women.  Furthermore, I worry about the effect we have on children, adolescents and even our peers when we lose all self-control, drop everything and pitch a fit.

While Rob’s dad was staying with us and helping with renovations up at the house in November he said something during a conversation that stuck with me.  We were discussing healthy eating and exercise and he said he likes to stay active and fit and be as healthy as possible because he feels he is an example to people around him.  He’s retired but continues to work as a reading specialist with children in a backwoods town in the 49er country of California.  His five kids are all grown up and a few of them have given him grandkids.  Because he’s been an educator in every capacity in public schools his whole life, I believe he is hyper-aware of how adults mold children and youth, how our smallest actions and reactions are noticed and absorbed by the people around us — without even trying, perhaps by osmosis, we can have an effect on everyone we come in contact with.

I’ve been thinking about the responsibility we all have to not simply live for ourselves in an age when where is so much emphasis on self-_______________ .  When an individual is suffering a crisis of the soul, I hear their friends say, “You just keep on doing you.  Don’t worry about that person.”  But…what if we did worry about others more — or at least the less obvious repercussions of our own actions?  What if we looked at our lives in an honest way, what if we took a deep, scouring look at all our behaviors and were brave enough to realize what needs adjusting?  What if we were courageous enough to actually MAKE those adjustments, how would it affect our relationships, our families, our neighborhoods, our communities…heck, our whole country?

I believe our kids would grow up braver, stronger, and smarter.  Future generations would be creative, logical, deep feeling groups of people who practice calmness in crisis.  I don’t simply want to improve myself for my own sake, but for the sake of the people I surround myself with.  I want to be a good example, to the best of my abilities (despite the fact that I’m a terribly flawed human being) to the people in the world I live in.  It’s hard, honest work.  I’m up for the challenge.

Happy New Year to you all, go forth and conquer.

XX

7i9a7615 7i9a7623 7i9a7640On the day of our 13th elopement anniversary, we built a kitchen floor at our little farm of dreams.

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Early this morning we put the final floor board in place and besides finishing details throughout the house, we are done!  The new floors in the kitchen, bedrooms and hallway are being sanded and sealed today and then we are turning this place over to a crew of painters and cabinet people.  We can’t believe we’re going to meet our deadline for moving in.  We’re totally and righteously exhausted and look forward to taking a couple days off to hunt, ski, hot spring and relax (we haven’t had a rest since October).

Wishing you all a beautiful last few moments of 2016.

X

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https://www.thenoisyplume.com/blog/2016/12/30/12488/

NOW CLOSED ::: Christmas Giveaway

As always, thank you all for contributing to this comment section and taking the time to enter your name in the drawing for this necklace.  I know this giveaway was more labor intensive then simply leaving an emoji on an Instagram photograph and I want you to know that your time, your thoughtfulness, is deeply appreciated.

I asked Robert to randomly select a winner for this necklace and he chose Rachel of “The Sagebrush Sea”, who simply said, “Thank you for being a light.”

Merry Christmas to you all and thank you, always, for being a part of my world.

XX

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 7i9a7599Behold, my Christmas giveaway!  At long last.  I bet you thought I forgot about you.

This year I put together a necklace featuring one of my bison skulls, a gaggle of iolite and one of those huge silk tassels I’ve been working with for a couple of years now (they’re SO festive) — everything is suspended from a glorious opera length chain.  As always, this giveaway is in honor and appreciation of you and your support.  All you need to do to enter in the drawing for this piece is leave a comment on this post so I know you were here.  Make your comment as short or as long as you like.  Tell me what dreams you are cooking up for the new year.

(I’ll leave this giveaway open until comments begin to taper off!)

Thank you for being a part of my little world in 2016, for helping to pay our mortgage, for buying our groceries, for feeding our cats and dogs, for putting gas in the Tacoma and diesel in the Cummins, for helping us to pay our closing costs on our new little farm, for funding our jury-rigged kitchen in the Airstream so we could live with a little comfort during the fire season, for helping me to buy Rob a riding mower (it’s a Deere), for paying our vet bills, for paying for our big game hunt tags, for paying for our teeth cleanings, for helping to cover the cost of a new naturopath MD I’m seeing for my thyroid disease, for a new pair of fire boots for Robert…for everything.  When you choose to support me as an independent artist it contributes to our life in very real ways.  You get a cocktail ring and then I buy a few bags of groceries.  How real is that?!!  We are eternally grateful to you and for you.

All of this is to say, from my little family to you and yours:

Thank you for your support this year and for the past 9 years.  Merry Christmas.  I look forward to entering into my tenth year of small business and seeing how the year evolves and unfolds, and naturally, I look forward to serving your souls, uplifting you and shining all the light I can into the shadowy parts of life.

Onward and upward.  Always.

XX

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In Saskatchewan in the fall, it is the Snow Geese and Canada Geese in the wheat stubble, taking off as one with extended necks and incessant honking.  They fly like city drivers, making haste, coursing like blood through a vein, running red lights, peppering the grey doom of the Arctic fronts, harbingers of minus forty degrees.

When we settled into Alaska, it was the ptarmigan on the ridge above the glacier where we saw the grizzly bear while we were picking blueberries — flecked and strutting, beady eyed as chickens and taking to flight only after lingering too long.  Easy fodder.  Feet furry with feathers.  There, in that untamed state, it was also the spruce grouse bursting forth as we walked along the Klutina River, drumming into the distance with rust in his eyes, our hearts beating faster from surprise.

When we came to Arizona, it was the Gambel’s Quail at roost in the red rock wash behind the fish hatchery, on the Colorado River.  In the saturated violet of dusk I felt the covey rise up from the willow branches, brushing my cheeks with their flight feathers, cheeping and chittering as they went and I found I was in the arms of a great seraphim — all wing and flame — and I cried out, “Holy holy holy.”

On the Snake River, it is the California Quail covey busting into the breeze while Tater Tot and I hunt into the wind and setting sun, along the rapids, beside the sage.  It is the starling, moving as they will in great acrobatic swells against the snow and gale force, invasive and voracious, thinking as one, flying as one.  It is the whistle of primary feathers as the hawk zooms on the updrafts at the edge of basalt cliffs, swooping with talons open to clutch a chukar in flight as I swing my shotgun through the air and then pull up at the last moment to watch the fit as they battle for survival.  It is the short eared owls, rising from the sage as a parliament of thirteen on a crystalline winter afternoon; I wonder if I have gone deaf as they lift up, so silent are their feathers against the frozen air.

I’ve always thrilled at the sound of rushing wings.  A bird overhead.  A raven by surprise.  The thing with the beating heart to stud the sky and stall my senses.

https://www.thenoisyplume.com/blog/2016/12/26/12459/

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It’s all frozen now, including the trout pond at the farm, which I will skate on tomorrow morning.

https://www.thenoisyplume.com/blog/2016/12/18/12446/