Shifting… with one foot on the soapbox


Fresh flowers from my room in Eve's Garden, Marathon, Texas


Bread Puddings/Baked Delights for breakfast at Eve's Garden


Just another breakfast at Eve's Garden: Eggs Benedict with exquisite Hollandaise sauce, baked grapefruit with meringue, and perfectly seasoned hash browns.


Chard from Eve's Garden


Marathon Kitsch


A couple of days ago, even though it’s officially spring, a late appearing cold front showed itself, and it was coolish, very coolish, again.  I was back into flannels and corduroy, and having those thoughts of living in the mountains or cooler climes.  But then I remember how much I am not fond of the cold these days.  This is about as cool as I want to be, actually, so maybe I’ll be fine right here.  Even though the heat is coming, with the heat comes the warming of the water, and now I remember how sublime it is to be floating in the water, becoming one with the water.  I know that sounds woo woo umma gumma, but it is one of the things I love the most about summer – to be in the water of the lake, feeling to be literally a part of its composition.  I missed it last year, and again two summers ago, and it makes a difference.  I am feeling a bit tender and precarious these days, and I long for strong.  I think it’s going to take me a while to get to strong, and it’s time for a shift.  A big shift.

It seems to be the time of many big shifts lately – both in myself and on the planet.  Things on the planet seem to be shifting us right off of it, and maybe it’s time.  We are becoming quite a pesky species, mostly mucking things up.  And if history has any kernel of truth, (except that revisionist stuff that is becoming so evident of late), we’ve been doing rather a royal job of mucking things up since we, as humans – more or less – hit the planet.  I know there are the high points – the Michelangelos and the Budda,  though I am loath to include too many religious icons, and damn near no politicians.  I’ll throw in John Muir and a slew of writers and philosophers, maybe Albert Schweitzer because he loved animals and seemed to be a real, positive force, and the whole lot of genuine good doers (and not those do-gooders), but I think they – then and now – are far, far outnumbered by the careless and the thoughtless… the greedy and the soulless… the stupid and the thinking impaired – that type being those who it never crosses their minds to actually think about anything, except perhaps in an evil or calculating type of way (without conscience), and act only in response to dull instinct, (without intellect.)  Sounds rather like I’m high and mightying myself here, but I don’t mean to.  Mitakuye Oyasin, and all that, (we are all one), but most of the time I have to say I don’t feel very one with most of what’s running around calling themselves human these days.  My bad, I guess.  Perhaps I am not as enlightened as I would aspire to be, much less profess.  Ah well.

What started all this rumination was the sighting of the first hummingbird of the season those days ago.  And it certainly seemed too early, even though it’s already been quite warm, and then abruptly very coolish again, and there came that hummingbird – looking for nectar and the feeder that just wasn’t there yet. Another thing to add to the To Do List, which goes somewhere past my arm, which is hurting far too much these days.  I’m supposed to be healed from the Summer of Broken Elbows, and just lately they are both bothering me.  Now what is all that about?  Just when it’s time to DO.  Lots of things.  Many things. Heavy things.  Lift and tote things.  Move big plant things.  And on, and then on some more.  More calcium then.  Wish I could remember calcium as easily as I do chocolate.

But I’m meaning to talk about The Shift… and all the inherent properties therein.

I’ve decided it might be an entirely interesting experiment to give a try at, and get ready now, here it comes… Being My Age.  Now, perhaps never having actually “been” my age, neither am I sure that I can appropriately pull this one off.  Having been “of an age,” for lo these too many years now, it’s a sobering thought to figure out how to live them, full and proud, and be merely satisfied with the whole and truth of who I am.  And that, again, opens yet another door, (or can of worms), in that I ask the question:  What will satisfy me as being/becoming the best me that I can attain – the one I’m evidently going to have to live with for the rest of my days.  And so you ask, (as do I), exactly who is it that I have been living with, being, for all these years?  I find it interesting, yet again, that I’m not sure I have an answer for that.  Too many times, when I ask myself these pithy questions, I so often hear from my responding self:  I’ll get back to you.  It’s not meant as a blow-off.  I am serious.  And still pondering.  Although it must be said that at times, most times, I am easily distracted from such ponderous ponderings, and then I am liable to fling myself down a river or take myself on a roadtrip, and the last of both of those outings seemed to be a bit out of kilter, and sometimes downright painful.  I don’t choose to call myself “old” just yet, despite all those copious years adding up to numbers that are the oldest I’ve ever been, and sometimes startling.  Perhaps I am not so old as just out of shape, and at least that I can do something about.  Ouch.  Otherwise I am in a downward spiral and that I do NOT accept!  Period.


So, I have to jump on the old wagon that carries the clichéd banner:  I’m as young as I’ll ever be, from now on – and there you are.  Hence the shift, or the attention to it, for if I don’t shift, I’m going to seize and stay in first or second gear, and that does not suit me at all in this particular time and juncture of my life.  It seems it’s gotten to be TIME TO MOVE.  Or sometimes put:  Use it (as in move it) or lose it.  The only thing I want to lose, (besides perhaps a dubious or negative or abrasive attitude), is a few pounds.  And quite happily, moving it will assist in the other losing it department.  Win win.  Good odds.

The warm is coming just in time, and I’ll just have to deal with the hot.  I started and ended my Celebration Month with a kayak ride.  Love that water.  I have to say, this last trip to West Texas sat on me heavy as far as thinking about relocating out there.  Oh it was dry dry dry, and I felt myself shriveling and forming dusty patches – on me.  I’m not so sure I can do with the lack of humidity, as much as we curse it around here.  So you pick your hours of tracking about in it, if you’re lucky enough to, and seek solace in the warm waters of the lake, becoming that water – that humidity.  Spoken like a true Pisces, of course.  Being here means giving up the sky and the stars, but then, I can always revert back to my old standby “fantasy,” and just find a way to have two houses – one there and one here – and gas money.  Timing not so good on that one, and oddly enough, gas and water, my two necessaries, are now becoming the most desirable, (and profitable, and not to mention excuses for War) properties on the planet.  Supply and demand, in spades.  But what astounds me is that we do our best, (actually our worst), to rape and pillage and plunder the planet to feed our insatiable needs, rather than find a way to live in concert with the elements.  Makes no sense, but ask yourself, what does lately?  Is it just me, or is it even more insane these days than it has been… and how long have I and most contemplating Humans Being been saying that?  Good grief.

So all this shifting needs to be going on, and the planetary shift seems to be out of my kin, and it seems to be doing quite well on its own to tell us it means business.  Nor am I doing any good at influencing any positive shift in the government, and it’s assumed a total life of its own, one I find vexing, unsettling, and damn near scary.  And now what to do about that when it seems we can hardly do anything at all.  So what is left to change, in my power, except the thing that is me.  I’m thinking a bit of the prayer they say in AA, and I’m sure in many other places:  Grant me the power to change what I can, accept what I can’t, (Acceptance, there’s a good one, often a challenge to the likes of me), and the wisdom to know the difference.  Amen and amen.  Serenity – doesn’t that sound just nice?





Time to stay home and tend to the home fires, instead of running off again.  I think I’m finally ready to tackle it, now that everything hurts, of course.  Yoga and gardening, walking and working, thinking and writing.  Plenty to do, and now I claim this time for me.  Capital Me.  I’ve got to get back to giving to me so that I may give to others.  Depletion is not a generous place to be, or give from.  Charity is sure ‘nuff needing to be at home right this minute.

Still, I learned from this last trip, as “un” as it was.  I saw friends, moved a bit, got some new music I happen to like a lot, and got other things out of my system for a while.  Next “tripping” will be work related, and that’s a good thing.  And I bet I find some pictures in a part of Texas I’ve not run around much – new material – and that’s good, too.

It’s no longer March, and I don’t intend to be the April Fool.  I just intend to be me, and work on the not so new, but improved model.  Maybe a little less chocolate, and more calcium.  Onward with the Rights of Spring.  Or summer, almost.  From flannels to shorts and tank tops.  It was 93 degrees on April lst.  I’ve got weather whiplash, but such is living in Texas.

April, come she will……… y’all.


One Response to “Shifting… with one foot on the soapbox”

  1. Susan Lowrance Says:

    My my Ms. Alexa … your words seem to be in sync with what and where I am right this minute. You helped me understand that it is only ME who must change and adapt … Govt., excess, greed will keep on keepin’ on. Each of us has to find that place of ease, of understanding, of compassion, and never forget to give these to ourselves too. WE matter. Thanks for the beautiful words and images … outstanding. Love and encouragement to you, my friend!

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