Social Hermit

I wrote about trees for a while- five articles: pacific yew, gingko, cottonwood, madrone, myrtle wood. It’s hard to write about trees without getting religious. They simply embody holy elements and essence without doing anything. My neighbor’s tree consistently pours out gallons of sweet apples and they do absolutely nothing for it. They always give me a bag and apologize for imperfections. 

Speaking of apples, I live in Eden when I complain less. There were probably people living in Eden who complained. I remember I wrote about complaining years ago because I did a 30-day fast from doing it. Wow, it was cool! 

Currently I am a social hermit. I follow the guidelines and also continue the channels of connection.
One afternoon I asked a coworker about her work, how was it going? She said, “Sleepy. Boring.” 

Last night I read a memoir of a dead poet and my alley neighbor played guitar in a lawn chair to no one. The alley is low on traffic so he sat nearly in the middle and strummed heartily, projecting directly into my house. It almost annoyed me until I realized it was kind of interesting and he was pretty good. 

Part of being a social hermit is taking advice about what to do- and one thing to do is to call people and check on them. My zoom meditation group says this is a good practice with those whom you like and maybe even don’t like. 

NPR had a show on about people buying guns because they feel uneasy lately. They have a vague sense of bad. These are not gun types of people. But they are worried about gun types of people so they are buying guns and ammo. The theme seems to be if you feel uncertain doom, you buy a boom boom. I told my brother I’m not interested in buying a gun, besides I have a tool shed filled with lethal gardening tools… and he emailed me back, “snowflakes use Lethal Gardening Tools.” He can say this as we would both be considered snowflakes. 

My brother and I answer the phone to each other: “Black Lives Matter!” or “Biden-Harris headquarters!” Sometimes I make something up just as I open my mouth, which is fun as I never know what’s going to come out. “Socialism isn’t communism, please hold!”

My brother has helped teach me to think, to read, to research. He led me toward art and history. I owe him a lot for this. It’s helped shape who I am. My mom also influenced me, in the same directions. 

A client said I don’t want to offend you, and you don’t seem like a Trumper… and I said no, I don’t, and I’m not, so speak as freely as you need. So he did. People need to unburden. 

I found a tea called Nilgiri, all the way from southern India. It is my new spiritual influencer as it “never turns bitter; doesn’t cloud; and has naturally sweet notes when brewed.” 

I drove behind a car that had a Crazy Bitch sticker on the back window. Maybe this is that embracing of our shadow side thing that I hear about. We need the light and the not light, the open and the hidden, the illuminated next to the unseen.

I try to imagine an ox cart 500 years ago with a Crazy Witch sticker.