Sunday, June 3, 2012
Of June and Bliss and (Hopefully) Martinis
I'm not entirely sure what happened to May. Somewhere between planting veggies, drying herbs, infusing oils, a super moon and an eclipse, I lost time somewhere. The past three weeks of battling a severe chest cold has left me behind on my to-do list and my pile of "fun things that feed my soul" is gathering dust in the corner.
May was both unseasonably cold and unseasonably warm. I'm not sure, with the way the weather patterns are across the globe these days, that there is going to be 'typical' weather any longer. It feels a bit like a die toss each day. Still, watching the storms roll into the Valley can take my breath away just as easily as a calm, sunny day where the lakes reflect the sky and mountains like glass.
There is much to be done in June. I've left my business taxes to the very last minute (shameful for a bookkeeper.) There are herbs to be harvested and dried, tinctured and infused in vinegar and assorted oils. There is a garden faire to prepare for, a tent-trailer to ready for camping and veggie gardens to dote on. I am thankful that I have the kind of life that allows for travel, plants and pleasure. All of it takes work though. And I've trudged through a dark winter to get here.
I throw the word "bliss" around quite a bit. I talk about finding it, following it and falling into it. But bliss - that utter joy and contentment - is not a permanent state. It's as fluid as the rivers that run through this valley. Sometimes everything is flowing smoothly and sometimes the rains come and everything rushes faster than you might like. I think it is how we are able to find those moments of bliss, even among the storms, that sets us apart.
I would like to have a few acres of land and some chickens. A boyfriend who doesn't forget to tell me he is already taken. Hours and hours to study all the herbal books and course material I seem to be amassing. A rather large travel expense account. A tiny butt to go with my long, wavy hair so that I'm just a treat to see from behind. And right now, a dirty martini. Extra dirty, please. I don't ask for much.
But I think it's important to note that my happiness and my ability to find and embrace bliss, does not depend on me actually aquiring those things. (Except, perhaps the martini.) It is those moments that please me, in spite of what I desire but do not yet have in my grasp, that make the difference in my every day.
It is my friend's chickens. The way my friend's husband dotes on her. The few wonderful trips I have taken. The magic that moves through the garden at dusk. My wise woman friend and her drum. The moments I make my nieces laugh - which is so much more difficult now that they are teenagers. It is discovering a new song. A new prayer. A new practice.
So much bliss to be found. Even on the stormy days. Even when the months fly by and the to-do list gets longer. Even when it's hard to breathe.
I hope June brings you all much bliss and you find time as the summer settles in, to notice those moments that bring you great happiness. And really appreciate them.