my best friend. ever.

 he seriously sleeps like this sometimes. there is a story about plucky duck. it's sad though. another time, maybe.

 halloween. cleopatra, if you didn't guess. no matter, the humiliation is the same.

 he loves the van. it is his real home. sometimes when i don't know where he is, i will find him sitting next to it, just waiting.

Mutt is so patient, so zen. he asks for so little, and gives everything. i posted once before about him, just waiting:


http://twokniveskatie.blogspot.com/2009/02/waiting-for-mike.html


and here:


http://twokniveskatie.blogspot.com/2009/02/waiting-for-brakes_27.html

and for those who missed it, here is how i lucked into the best dog in the whole wide world:


http://twokniveskatie.blogspot.com/2008/03/snownose.html

the value of empty

i get a daily meditation from the tao te ching. todays was especially meaningful because it speaks to me on so many levels.

"Thirty spokes are joined together in a wheel,
but it is the center hole
that allows the wheel to function.

We mold clay into a pot,
but it is the emptiness inside
that makes the vessel useful.

We fashion wood for a house,
but it is the emptiness inside
that makes it livable.

We work with the substantial,
but the emptiness is what we use."

when i first read this, i thought of my van. on my first couple cross-country trips, i was proud of how much i could fit in all the nooks and crannies, and how many valuable, useful things i could haul along while remaining organized. on my last trip, though, i began to realize the value of emptiness.....of useable space. for many of us, downsizing is an ongoing project, a renewable goal. 

the last few months have been a downsizing in many other ways. i have been doing things more mindfully and with greater focus than i am usually capable of.   it is very hard for me, slowing down the inner turmoil and the cacophony of thoughts tumbling around in my head. even when those thoughts are positive or cheerful, as they often are, the are tiring. my mind does not always feel like my own..... it is crowded and busy and all to often self-absorbed. i said to a friend not long ago "i will really attain minimalism when i can downsize my brain".

i thought of that statement again after re-reading the above meditation a few times. "we work with the substantial but the emptiness is what we use". it hit me this evening how meaningful that is to me.  i don't think i have come close to understanding it....if anything, i don't want to overthink it, and miss the whole point. for now, i'm just going to let it be what it is.

i've been really scarce on the internet lately, been on a kind of digital diet. i have been practicing slow-down kind of things (i am reluctant to use the word "meditation" in the same blog post that references my thought processes!) and i have been having some success which delights me no end. i have fallen in love all over again with knitting and have taken up colorwork which involves counting and following charts.....mindful and purposeful and satisfying.  i am appreciating simple things in a way i haven't in a long time. i am grateful for the snippets of stillness that i stumble over, when i least expect it, and i have no doubt that there will be more........

the first thing you see

"at some point in life, the world's beauty becomes enough." toni morrison

how true. how much of my life i squandered, looking for The Reason for Being. only to find out that the whole point, after all, was just to be here. now.

i have this thing, like a quirk. (okay, if you ask my therapist, he'll tell you that i have alot of them). but my big thing is what i see first thing every morning. i believe it sets the mood for the rest of the day. wake up in beauty, walk in beauty. that's one of the main reasons i prefer to sleep outside.

the top picture is the view out of the back of the van when it is parked across the road from the house. i sleep there alot, don't waste gas driving anywhere. i don't need to. i am fortunate to be surrounded by open spaces right where i am.

the bottom picture was taken one morning from underneath a leanto behind my house. you can see my breath clouding in the cold. i don't blame folks for thinking i'm nuts, sleeping outside at my age. but what a rush, opening my eyes and the first thing i see is that sky. it imprints in your brain, setting up a buffer for the garbage that assaults your spirit the rest of the day.

pretty cheap therapy, if you ask me.