The Fall is a special one this year, notably for the late seasonal rains that have soaked our homes near daily. Water is a gift. That which we readily, and freely, pull from the ground here. The myriad of birds that enjoy my septic sewer lids; green, concaved, and often available for evening bird baths. The deer have adapted to the gong and singing bowls, looking, but returning to rich mineral blocks scattered about the front paths.
Had a friend visit last week, shifting from the waters of Hawaii, to the normally dry, elevated mountain top, peaking out at a hair over 9800 feet on my mountain. It was a shift for her, a shift for me, a man of much solitude and introspection. The energy was nice, the Ranch is still showering us with gifts of wildflowers, even as the leaves begin go change.
Take a human who has spent the past four years in Hawaii, and the wilds of her Shinto pilgrimages to Japan, and have said human ask to not leave our Ranch for a couple straight days? Be thankful we get to call this place home. Silly humans, we make mistakes – we get soft to our daily gifts, our pettiness, our sense of normalcy. Often an outsider can remind us of what is in front of our noses. What gifts we have simply to be in this beautiful landscape.
The signs of change are not only upon the bits of summit white that now linger in the shadows, nor the gently falling yellow and orange leaves dancing about the lawn. These signs are from within. Life in the ranch. Life on the mountain. Becoming unknown, but more thoroughly self examined, and the signs suggest the journey is worthwhile.
Remember to think of today as a painting; layers of color, splashes of intrigue and creativity. It is not a sum to check at dusk. What will your painting look like today?
The deer have had a bountiful summer. The rains have been plentiful since June. Mountain flowers grace my yard, in bloom for over one hundred consecutive days this summer. It has been a great time for the wildlife of varying sizes.
In the midst of a no-hunting corridor, many deer wander through my land, but I will admit to prodding them a bit with salt blocks, mineral blocks, even one laden with corn and molasses. They seem to enjoy the blocks, visit daily, and even the fawns partake as the elders allow. I have them scattered a bit to prevent territorial disputes; unless related by blood, only one deer at a time per block. I have added more blocks this year, and the visitors have fully responded in kind.
There are ones I recognize now. The mother with twin fawns, half their spots now gone. The large eight point buck with the black circular marking on his right shoulder. Bouncy-bounce the fawn who does not yet walk, but only hops about, enticing any and all to play (she is greatly ignored).
Yesterday morning there were nine bucks here, all with majestic new antlers, laden in velvet. Were it not the crack of dawn, there would be a photo available.
Bay windows mean I get to watch unimpeded. They notice me move, but whereas they cannot smell me, they seem to have adapted fully to us being neighbors as such.
A little kingdom I possess Where thoughts and feelings dwell, And very hard I find the task Of governing it well; For passion tempts and troubles me, A wayward will misleads, And selfishness its shadow casts On all my words and deeds.
How can I learn to rule myself, To be the child I should, Honest and brave, nor ever tire Of trying to be good? How can I keep a sunny soul To shine along life’s way? How can I tune my little heart To sweetly sing all day?
Dear Father, help me with the love That casteth out my fear; Teach me to lean on thee, and feel That thou art very near, That no temptation is unseen No childish grief too small, Since thou, with patience infinite, Doth soothe and comfort all.
I do not ask for any crown But that which all may win Nor seek to conquer any world Except the one within. Be thou my guide until I find, Led by a tender hand, Thy happy kingdom in myself And dare to take command.
Greetings dear reader, (who would you, today, pray tell be)? This site has been idle for thirty months, save for a brief foray into the depth of a single man’s loss, subsequently revoked. I will not publicly declare such resurrection; if this site is to be rediscovered, it will be.
One must get to know their fellow humans, and examine the depth of one’s own ability to truly connect with another. A skill, it readily turned out, I did not possess. Even when prompted by a confidante, one’s own shortcomings can often be the barrier to true understanding of one’s impact upon another. Loyalty belongs first and foremost to Self.
Pain does funny things to a man. When he loses the ability to tend or fend for himself amidst this remote wilderness, and then loses his daily canine companion of thirteen years, the spirit gets selfish. One wants to protect what they have. To share, vent, and express their pain. Sometimes the manner of exultation is seemingly too challenging. Sometimes, they simply are wrong, but pain blocks the circuitry. Loss requires grace.
As such, we can make unhealthy choices. Reconnect with unhealthy people. Engage in unhealthy behaviors. Allow oneself to surrender to one’s own demons and fears. It is not a pretty sight. It is internal weakness, nothing more, but it is not a pretty sight.
The depth of change from my first two years in the Ranch, to this new shift of quieter, peace centered, non alcohol-fueled-trauma-bonded relationships? The value of the shift is becoming more meaningful and profound. This path is why I chose to experience the Ranch in the first place. This journey is about self discovery, balance, harmony with my environment, and discovering my true center.
I will continue this walk, with a new series of adventures. For now at least, wintering upon this mountain is done. Full time jobs are done. The career of a man, now fading away from technology, can change self reflection. It is time to embark upon such childish things as exploration, newness, fresh perspectives. Continuing time with nature, the real world. I am surprised as you to find my fingers upon this site.
Growth. Discovery. Change.
My apologies to all I have wronged; men in pain can make desperate choices. I am making amends as the universe allows. I will not speak of such here again. It was what it was. Year five here has fully begun. It too, shall be what it shall be.
My old dog has been in the ground for twenty five months now. Be gracious with yourself, and yours, whilst still above ground. Twenty five months – longer separated from those than the time I knew them. I thank you all. This shift would not be occurring without the losses.
