The Pacific Ocean, my coast.

Take care of each moment and you will take care of all time.  Buddha.

Yesterday I drove myself out to the Coast.  I stopped and had a small breakfast at one of my favorite bakeries, read some of the paper, looked out the window, drank one more cup of coffee which I didn't need! got back into the truck and drove some more.  The news has been that there are 25' waves, which I really wanted to see.  They weren't that big, and I found myself criticizing the surf:  whoa.  Stop.  This is indicative of my mental state, not the state of the Pacific Ocean, doing what it does in a most spectacular way, as it has done since it invented the coast in the first place.

I love the surf.  The motion, wind, water, wildlife, sand, rocks all contribute to clearing of this cluttered mind.  How does my life get so complicated at times?  Or why?  The pounding of the waves gradually eliminates the need to question.  Life IS.  I am:  This is part of the human experience.

There are not that many places of which I am aware of being filled with contentment.  The Coast is one of these places.  Actually, not just any coast, but the N.California-and-further-north Pacific Coast.  I love the wild.  The cold air invigorates me, and charges my batteries.  Creativity rises, in fact, becomes downright insistent:  do this now.  Yesterday I broke through something; I stopped the car and wrote down some lines.  A poem is bubbling, popping it's way into expression.  Some part of me is coming to fruition.

The (mass media) news reports of the disaster in Haiti have been distressing.  Listening on NPR has given more in-depth reporting, BBC more as well.  My discomfort has risen.  The loss of life, the horrific thought of losing beloveds in collapsed buildings, the lack of any sort of medical supplies and treatment for the thousands of injured, the lost children...  Even in my frightened "omigoddess, what am I going to do about retirement?" thoughts/perception, I do have food in my pantry, I feed two dogs, four chickens, three cats and a parakeet, I drive to the Coast, I sit at this computer or in a chair with a notebook and write, I sew, I paint, I sit and think and pray in the safety of my world.  This is incomprehensible to many people on our planet, who live with so little of what our/my society deems "necessary."  For the past few days I have thought of how blogging, or even writing is an enormous luxury.  Of course, it is also a necessity, but I could not bring myself to open my blog to a new post.

No.  It is not necessary to earn the privilege of sitting down to write.  I do not need to suffer to bring myself to the pen, page or keyboard.  Perhaps tending to this fleeting moment is an important thing to do.  Perhaps bringing my personal perception to the suffering will, in the bigger picture, lessen the pain, diminish some corner of the overall suffering.

Yes.  I will send a check to assist in the Haitian recovery.  I will hold High Watch to the best of my ability.  I will walk again, the labyrinth; I will draw and paint it.  My understanding of our connection flourishes.  In this moment of clarity, a Haitian child is held in Love and Life.

xoxoLC