The Furious Spinner

"If I can't dance I don't want to be in your revolution!" —Emma Goldman

Tonight I'm feeling groggy and a bit overwhelmed. I just went outside into the windy night and plucked a sprig of rosemary from the bush growing outside my door. I planted a dead rosemary branch outside our door about five years ago, and now it is almost blocking the way into our house. Protection. I am protected in the south and the north by giant rosemary bushes. I am blessed by Rose Mary.

I put the sprig up to my nose and breathed deeply. Ahhh. I could smell it! All day I haven't been able to smell. This strong whiff of rosemary was a great relief.

Autumn is here. Suddenly. All the dry cool sounds of fall. Today as I was walking to the library to meet Mario, a crow dropped a walnut right at my feet. I laughed. As I walked, I heard walnuts dropping here and there on the pavement and sidewalk. The crows were perched on telephone wires and lampposts and dropping walnuts to the ground. They did this again and again until they cracked the shell or stressed it enough that they could get their beaks inside to grab the meat.

I love that sound. Plunk! Plunk! Plunk!

Yesterday as I was walking to the library, I saw the daycare people from across the street taking the children to the library. It was the first time they'd been to the library in a long while. They'd stopped coming because one of the workers was offended that the library had literature about "homosexuals." Some of the church people found out the daycare was boycotting the library (it's a Christian daycare in the Methodist Church), and they put a stop to that by telling the daycare manager that that kind of intolerance wasn't acceptable. Yeah!

As they started walking away from the daycare, one of the little girls was so excited to see all crows. She began hopping up and down and calling out, "Hawks, hawks!" With her disgust plainly on, the plodding scowling woman at the head of the line said, "Those aren't hawks. They're nothing but dirty old blackbirds."

I had a visceral and immediate dislike for this woman. I knew she had to be one of the people who was offended by the stuff in the library. And I couldn't believe she would crush that child's joy without hesitation. Not to mention that she gave the girl the wrong information. They weren't blackbirds; they were crows! I certainly wouldn't want my children under this woman's care. I wanted to run over to that little girl and share in her joy, tell her all about the crows. But I knew that would just frighten the children and cause a scene.

So I whispered, "Crows can see into this world and that world, the present and the past. They are tricksters and magicians. And most importantly, they are birds! And see those three crows right over there? They're looking at you and cawing joyfully, 'A girl! A girl!'"

I knew she couldn't hear me, but it helped me to say it.

Today when I got to the library, I noticed all the acorns on the ground around this huge old oak tree out front of the building. I didn't remember ever seeing so many acorns. More goodies for the crows! I put my arms around the big old tree. Didn't even make it a third of the way around. I was like a giant blue dragonfly stuck to this beautiful old tree. I love that tree. It's been part of my life for nearly twenty years. I consider it a friend.

Last Saturday as I walked away from this same tree, I was feeling lonely. No one had called me in two weeks. I was missing Linda. I wondered if it was going to be like this the rest of my life. Was I ever going to have friends in my same town? My same time zone?

That night a friend of mine returned from New York, and we played cards with her and her husband. The next day, Mario and I went out into the eastern part of the gorge where we live. It was out in the desert, with the scrub oaks, rattlesnakes, and coyotes. The house looked like something from Santa Fe, adobe-style, with a patch of grass out front. Our host had set-up a recycle bin and a couple of tubs of water to wash our dishes. (It was potluck: bring your own food and dishes.) A bunch of us sat and ate and talked about life, love, and politics. Afterward, our host and his band played for us as the sun went down. Songs about peace, love, healing the Earth and ourselves. One of the songs they sang was "Emma Goldman." It was wonderful! We all sang it together: "Emma! Emma! Emma Goldman!" The song was about resisting tyranny and dancing to the revolution. I looked at Mario and laughed. "Emma would love this!" Later, we turned and watched the sun go down. We took out our keys and rattled the sun down. We danced. I held Mario as close as I could and he held me the same. It was a great night. I was surrounded by like-minded people, all of us trying to make the world better, all of us trying to connect with the real, disconnect from the false.

Emma and I would have been great friends.

Today I woke up next to my sweetheart. Today I hugged a big old oak tree. Today I talked to blue jays and crows. Today I smelled rosemary.

Sometimes I lose track of so many important things.

It's nice to have crows, sweethearts, shiny girls, and old oaks to remind me.

May you have the same.

May You Shine in Beauty!

P.S. I reread Healing the Wounded Wild this afternoon, and that helped remind me, too. The essay is about healing from chronic illness, but I think it applies to all of us living in this country right now.

Labels: healing, rosemary, sustainability

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Friday, July 06, 2007

Lavender & Rosemary Podcast