The only time flies are amusing is when they provoke the kittens into performing daring acrobatic maneuvers through the living room, leaping, spinning and swatting at seemingly invisible adversaries. In my house, it’s also the sign of a good party as there will have been lots of good food, good people and good fun. And the doors were open to accommodate said activity.
Time flies. When you are having fun. And when you are not paying attention. I just came back from breakfast with my darling Son of the North and his beautiful girlfriend. They are young. They know things. Technical things like Jetson-style technologies and philosophies. I’m usually like a deer in the headlights when listening. I love it.
The last twist of the conversation touched on how far we’ve “advanced” in the past 100 years: “… and then everyone had to have new gadgets, the latest thing to make our lives easier and plastic! It was all about plastic! Now we realize how detrimental so much of it is to us. …”
I reminded them that there were always holdouts in the ’60 s and ’70s, trying to “get back to the land, to set our souls free.”
Never miss a local story.
I am also encouraged by the revival of “handmade” and “tiny homes” and community-supported agriculture — getting back in touch with who we really are and from whence we came. Not everybody feels this by any means, but I am eternally optimistic that we will figure it out. Juxtapose computers into my recent reality. …
This weekend past was my annual summer party, as I mentioned last week. From 3 weeks old (I’m honored to have provided her first social outing!) to … older, all abilities and colors, men and women, boys and girls, dancing, eating, meeting, playing, painting rocks, pawing through a near ceiling-high pile of clothes in the clothing exchange, laughing, some crying, and love, lots and lots and lots of love. You can’t fabricate that with wires and polymer.
This is what will save us. This is what we need to feel, I believe, to carry us through: good times, bad times, times of uncertainty, it’s a connectedness to friends but equally to a connectedness of strangers. Because none of us really are strangers, when you think about it. We may not know others’ names or even anything about them, but we are responsible for their wellbeing as much as they are ours, insomuch as our vibe, our actions, our decisions about a population, a person, an event, affects everyone on the planet, ultimately.
I know this is Woodstock Wipeout writing here, but my heart is full of love and gratitude for getting the opportunity to spread it, to tell people specifically. How much love? One of our dearest friends is going through a major physical challenge right now. Close tribe members as well as “new ones” aknowledged him and threw into the donation jar what they could. We all sent out good juju. I know that stuff works. I’ve seen it happen.
So, at breakfast while I was expressing my desire for one of those newfangled printing pens, I was equally adamant about the need for touching the earth, for sharing, for making things by hand — all the things I continually preach about in this space — to save us from ourselves lest we “advance” right out of existence.
Hang on to each other, brace your neighbors up, give them a warm blanket on the garage floor, listen to a story and dance on.