Another week has been lived. Isn’t it curious that none of us lived it in the same way nor felt the same about that living? How could we. No two lives are identical. Granted some may appear similar when observing their expressions, but I have always boldly assumed that each inner arena is unique, ever transitioning and mysteriously secret; perhaps even enigmatic.
What season are you in? What is the seasoning for your life or do you consider it bland? Have trouble and arduous challenges brought you to a well seasoned state similar to a brittle old hickory stick? Or, are you still out of season waiting to blossom and ripen? Looking forward to a bountiful future? Wishing there was a bounty to go along with a special open season?
Well, that’s what I get for sitting in my time machine and flashing back to days of yore. I like the way The Byrds presented Pete Seeger’s excerpted adaptation of the Book of Ecclesiastes. I was unaware of the tune’s fleshed out history. I was surprised and somewhat delighted to see that ole’ Pete had contributed 45% of his royalties to the Israeli Committee Against House Demolition.
Imagine how different the planet would be if successful people contributed part of their “reaping” to causes of merit. I know many do. Sometimes I get a little sad because it appears many just expend their wealth in a quest for power.
Excuse me …. That veered a bit to close to politics for my comfort. I don’t think there is anything more distracting or discombobulating. One of the very nice things about living here in Thailand is that it is not possible for me to understand this country’s politics. What I can understand and observe is that life in the rural areas just cycles from planting to harvest, from dawn to dusk ……….
…… From dawn to dusk the work is done. The daily measure added to the soul. Feast or famine the farmer grows into himself. Guided by more than what is known or felt, each day an unfolding mystery. Rolling courageously forward, letting go of yesterday…..
Oh yeah! This week ……..
It started out with Father’s Day. I heard from both of my children.
My daughter, 7500 miles ENE of here, whom I last hugged on the curb at SEATAC as exhaust fumes whirled around us and we pretended to stoically bid each other ado.
My son garnered the label Ex-Patriot before I did. He’s 17000 miles SSE – mas o menos. We last shared space and time while he was recovering from a bad snowboard landing. Once recovered adequately he flew off to Buenos Aires, Argentina where, I hear, he is living happily. He married a wonderful woman from that city. They had met on the slopes of Park City, Utah.
This week also marks a new chapter for my wife and me. I had wondered for a long time why she kept chopping bamboo for her sister – one baht, one baht, one baht … (per bundle of 24 satay sticks.) I asked her about it several years ago. She dismissed the idea of doing it independently. For some reason, that option suddenly became viable. We purchased our first truckload of logs and have been making the big pieces smaller for several days.
She is amazingly happy. Really, really, really happy.
I am pleased as well. It is great to be sharing her project. I get to saw the logs. Yup! My table saw is dead, so I use a bow saw. It is almost cardio vascular. Well, it could be but carpel tunnel slows me down. I can not sit on the ground to finish the sticks, so I put together a …….. I’ll take a few pictures soon.
Mid-week Ming Ming had a half a day of school. First, she came up and gave me one rose. Later, returning with a yellow chrysanthemum. Then another rose. Finally, she brought up the whole arrangement, which I assume followed her home. It took her several tries, but she got me to understand that she wanted to do a photo shoot.
Friday, my son had his 31st birthday. The Thai understand that is the end of the 31st year. Now he is working on or moving through his 32nd year. Here he would be considered 32.
Today, the 26th, is the birthday of both Ooee, Ponra’s youngest daughter, and Ming Ming, Ponra’s elder sister’s grand-daughter. Kinda weird that they both were born on the same day. They are observably way different. Ooee has an ample supply of contempt for Ming. Ming is highly motivated to emulate most of Ooee’s art projects. It is good to have e referee nearby if their bubbles start to interface.
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