I Could Get Used to This

This morning is a common spring morning in Kansas. Not a cloud in the sky. It cooled off last night so this morning the air is sweet. There is no wind, and most wonderfully, no heavy machinery disturbing the peace and quiet. Only bird song, and the occasional farm truck growling past. I have the house open to the fresh air and sunlight. The rains finally brought on the leaves of every tree so through every window of my home there is only green and gold. I do not have to go to work. I do not have to go to work! I do not have to do anything but tend the dogs and check the water tank for the horses. That is basically a big heaping helping of nothing. Nothing!

I could get used to this.

My trusty lawn tractor stopped mowing just as I was finishing up the first cutting of the season. I took it to the Wizard to be restored so when I get it back there is going to be some serious mowing to do. All those horrible years of pushing lawn mowers around, I imagined that getting a lawn tractor would make mowing painless, effortless. A lawn tractor absolutely improves that task immeasurably but I still get hot and sweaty and covered with dust and pollen. I still get ticks and chiggers, though not nearly as many as I would if I was walking through all that grass. Even with a tractor, mowing is still work - not a lot of work but work just the same. I wish I did not have to mow but if I did not attempt to tame the willful advance of nature, I would be surrounded by snakes and all manner of other creatures that I do not enjoy. It would be a fire hazard, too. I truly enjoy the way the property looks after I have mowed. It is not a carefully manicured, meticulously trimmed and precisely managed look whatsoever. It simply looks as if a human made the effort. I must have suitable habitat for the fireflies, after all. The few days of the fireflies every summer are most magical. Some years there are thousands of them. Because I do not have an artificial light at night, and because the light pollution from Topeka has not yet entirely washed out the magic of night, I can see just how bright each little insect's light truly is. It is easy to see how the myth of fairies began.

Since I do not have the stress and tension of work any longer, since I live alone in a very peaceful spot (orcs not withstanding), and because I am seriously meditating these days, I am getting so calm and quiet inside my mind. My speech is even slowing down and my normally impatient self is becoming immensely patient. I worry that I am becoming senile. (It would not be the first time I mistakenly assessed the situation.) Perhaps this is one of the side effects my teacher ascribes to the practice of meditation. I feel as if I am standing at the very edge of an immense pool of calm water. If I could simply step into it... But, then I have to do something like reset my Netflix password using my "smart" phone. On Mothers Day, my frustration boiled up in the typical torrent of really juicy ten- and twelve-letter cussing and cursing. It made both of my kids laugh to hear me. It must have reminded them of the old days.