Tuesday, June 10, 2014

Summertime

Though this is a pleasant enough photo, I don't like to have my picture taken----haven't liked it since I can remember. (I maintain my childlike belief in my ability to choose invisibility.) But this photo is iconic of my favorite days of summer----on the hammock (with my cozy friends), reading until my eyelids get too heavy, and then pulling the covers over my head to snooze a bit. (I don't remember exactly, but my husband was likely working away in the yard, equally happy, before seeing this picturesque scene and then feeling he had to photograph us.)

Maybe I'm what's considered lazy. If it weren't for Jon, I'd still plant a kitchen garden and flowers, but there'd be much more apparent neglect. I'm happy to allow weeds to grow, too.  


Since I've been featuring photos of roses lately, I thought I should say that there is no actual rose bed yet, only a tiny grouping of roses that will eventually either demand more of our attention. . . or not.  But they're in the front yard, where I don't enjoy spending much time, as we have a good deal of street traffic----folks walking by, many with no sense of personal boundaries, so they may just shout out to me: "Hey! Love your house!" which isn't too bad (except I'm not out there to engage in pleasantries with passersby). Thus, my means of visiting our front yard is often inspired by Mission Impossible (I hear the theme song, anyway), as when I go out there, I often drop to the ground and crawl around, essentially invisible to anyone (unless they get too close to our short fence, in which case if they saw me, they'd likely pretend not to have seen me because I'm sure I'd look a bit strange to them).  
It isn't that I'm unfriendly; I simply like having private space, and this isn't always easy living in town. Our young neighbors across the street tackled the issue by building a six-foot fence around their house, something we thought of doing when we first arrived here, but seeing how it looks over there, I'm happy we didn't take that route. 

But when a fellow walked up our driveway the other day, sunburned with no shirt on, gripping his mostly empty quart bottle of malt liquor in one hand, and pieces of hose in the other, his speech slurred as he asked us whether we had any leather we could give him ("Nope----sorry!"), he explained he'd try to use the hose instead for his project (making walking sticks----oh, and did we want one?), and continuing to encounter our heads shaking no, he put out his hand for each of us to shake, and left. I was happy not to have been alone, but more than making me fearful (I could spin off quite a few "what ifs" around this), and angry (an emotion that arises especially when I don't want reality to be in effect but prefer MY version of wishful thinking----i.e., if only that damned liquor store on the corner weren't there; or farther afield, if only we people weren't so LOST), I tried to simply BE with what happened and not feel my heart shut down entirely. 

So rather than my previous lists of why I want to move to the country (read: away from people), I am attempting to remind myself of why we're okay just where we are----within walking distance of just about everything and providing ample practice in being more compassionate. 




6 comments:

  1. I love that peaceful photo of you relaxing! I am camera-shy as well, and a lot of times people-shy too :) Many times preferring not to speak to my neighbors - using avoidance tactics. Think I'm becoming a hermit! LOL

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    1. I come from a long line of hermits, too, Christine! But we do have a high-fenced back yard to retreat from the world.

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  2. I used to set up my spinning wheel on the front porch in the summer, but was constantly bothered by people asking what I was doing. I should have tried to take it as an opportunity to educate people, but mostly I would just retreat grumpily inside!

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    1. I'm guessing that silence may be beneficial in such situations----if only I could remember that myself: a smile and silence----most people can't abide in it for long!

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  3. That is such a great photo, Chris, he got it just right.

    You always seem to write something that I can identify with -- earlier I spent an hour doing Byron Katie's "work" over neighbor stuff. Ample practice is right. xo

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    1. Thanks, Peggy! I'll check out Byron Katie's work in more detail, too. I liked what I saw online.

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