Packing

Lots of packing.



I'm moving to Keene New Hampshire tomorrow. There are explosions of my stuff everywhere throughout the house. There's barely room for me to walk across my own room. I desperately want to spend time discarding/donating stuff I do not need, now that everything is in one place so I can use the KonMari tidying-up method, but there's just not time.

Moving is stressful and time and energy intensive. And I do it alot. I'm trying to apply part of the advice an expert India traveler gave me about traveling through India successfully: "Don't think about it too hard."

So I'm fighting my desire to make everything neat and plan for every eventuality. Instead, I'm just making sure I have all the things I know I'll need plus plenty of extra pairs of underwear. If I want something and don't have it, I'll just make do until I've got a chance to go back home.

I hope to get back to some kind of normal posting routine soon. Heck, I hope to get back to some type of normal routine, period, soon. All this crazy traveling leads to disrupted routines and less work getting done. But that's just it's own set of lessons and challenges I suppose. It's easy to perform under the settings you practiced in, it's much more difficult to perform under substantially different settings, but the only way to learn how is to practice.

That's all and more for now. Originally I was just planning on having the title and the first sentence.

Take care, be well, remember to laugh.
Isaac

In the Interim

I'm sorry for the lack of posts. I'm in what I think of as nega time these day, wherein I have two or more things I should really be doing at any given moment. This is going to continue for a while. While it does, any posts that do happen will likely be very short. 

Thankfully I found some some amazing scratch graffiti on an air dryer in a rest stop bathroom on my drive out to Fairfield Iowa (and even as I write this I'm already another 12 hours away in Colorado, and 3 more to go this morning. After which I will likely be out of cell phone coverage and Internet access.)

Anyhoo, I hope this makes your day like it made mine:

(If you're having trouble reading that it says "push button, receive bacon."

FX

So much to do, so much to learn.

This evening, coming home from a walk, I saw what looked like some mystical humanoid figure squatting by the edge of a stone fence. It was hard to make out if it was more than just an unlikely stone or tree stump, but I got the distinct impression of someone intently watching in my direction, their face lit up by the setting sun. As I continued to walk up my driveway, I got my answer. A young fox hopped down from the end of the stone fence that it had been sitting on, watching the sun set, and danced across the lawn into deeper foliage.

I stood still and watched--but not too closely. You have to watch wild animals out of the corner of your eye or they get nervous and hide. It frolicked through the brush and then walked down the street for a bit, and I got to just stand there and watch a young red fox right out in the open for a minute or so. Then it seemed to be lying down, and though, again, it was too far away to see clearly, it looked like it was just begging to have its belly rubbed. And then, a second suspicion I'd had was confirmed. A second young fox burst out of the foliage, chasing the first one across the road and into more forest.

And this whole story starts many months back, when I saw a large, older red fox, from my upstairs window, walk right up to the side of my house. It seemed like it had an unusually big belly, and I wondered, and hoped, that it was a mother fox, pregnant with cubs (pups? I'm not sure the correct word.) But who was I to say? It's not like I'd seen any foxes up close like that before. Yet it seems my intuition was right.

It seems my intuition is right more and more often these days.

I'm happy. Foxes are rare. And they make me happy. It's a sign of a healthy forest. On the other hand, the thoughts in my head, as I was walking up towards my fateful fox encounter, were of how long the sleepy road my parent's house was on would remain sleepy. How long before it started getting more developed. How long before the bulldozers came. And it wasn't an idle thought either. My extended family owns land here. Is there anything I can do, anything I can say, to keep the land wild? To keep it from being made ugly and sterile?

And how silly, the idea of ownership of land. Who owns the land? Well, the foxes are living there right now. Doesn't that mean they own it? What gives us the right to kick them out? Can't we try living there--if we're going to live there--in a way that doesn't make the land inhospitable to the family of foxes?

Can't is the wrong word. I know it's possible. I know we can. Sustainable living plus primitive skills knowledge: it is possible. There are many examples in indigenous cultures. The real question is, will we? No, the real question is, what will I do?

It is a haunting question.

Sorry if this post is a bit janky folks. No time for a nice deep edit. As I said at the beginning (and this will have to serve as the bookend of this oddly shaped piece) I have much to do, and small time to do it in.

I will leave you with a cryptic observation that I currently classify under "speculative theory with strong supporting evidence.":

Good character is the doorway to miracles.


-IO