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New email went out to Journeys subscribers today: Check it out.
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You are invited to join me for a walk along the Loop Trail from the Way of Jesus to the North Pond. It’s a crisp day with leaves crunching under my boots and birdsong along the way.
New email went out to Journeys subscribers today: Check it out.
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New email went out to Journeys subscribers today: Check it out.
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New email went out to Journeys subscribers today: Check it out.
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Join me for a short walk in a gentle rain.
The trails at Cedar Cross bring surprises, and a sense of calm as nature welcomes us.
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Every time I go home from a day in the garden, my body reminds me that I’m not a spring chicken anymore.
Hauling rocks, shoveling dirt to and fro, crawling around on my knees, digging and yanking roots, lifting a rock in and out of its chosen placement until I can form the hole to fit it perfectly — all of this is hard work. Good, old-fashioned, hard work.
And it’s just what I needed.
When the pandemic struck with all the subsequent repercussions, it didn’t take long for me to realize that I was grieving. …Grieving the staggering forthcoming loss of life, grieving the fragile nature of our society’s compassion for others, grieving the reality of elevated risk for so many people I love, and grieving the loss of the business revenue I had worked so hard to secure for our family. The grief became so overwhelming that I needed a place to work it out. I needed a constructive way to haul and shovel and crawl and dig and yank that grief out of my body.
Many nights I’d lie in bed after a day with the rocks and try to find a muscle that didn’t hurt. I pushed myself sore many times, and turns out it was the best remedy I could find. The grief became clarity, and the time in the garden helped to create a deep sense of spaciousness within me as I prepare for the days to come.
The truth is that the world is complicated. Life is messy, and so is death. People worldwide are dying daily from COVID-19. And other people are trying to figure out how to get back to work. We are living, and we are dying; we are dying, and we are living. Both are true, at the same time.
What’s also true is that we have an amazing opportunity right now to synthesize the best of our world pre-pandemic with all the lessons we’ve learned about ourselves and our world during the pandemic into a new “third way” of life post-pandemic.
It’s been longer than six weeks since I began working with the garden. I am finally beginning to feel more centered and ready to discern moving forward with my business. Things will be changing, and I’m still listening to learn the details of the best way forward. Yet one of the things I know for sure is that the Sunny Garden and I will be pals for a long time to come.
I could launch into a litany of words and phrases specific to goldsmithing that would not make a lot of sense to a non-smith.
No copper tongs in the pickle.
The girdle is uneven.
It’s time to sharpen the graver.
Pour the ingot through the flame.
Bleed the line.
I could continue, but I’ll spare you. The point is that any discipline or avocation is going to have its own vernacular. I’m learning the lingo of stone masonry.
Chinking helps to set.
The wall needs a good batter.
Two on one. One on two.
I found a book in the Cedar Cross library called Building Stone Walls by John Vivian.
I also managed to get another handy volume called Stonework by Peter McHoy.
As any good autodidact would, I’m finding it helpful to read/listen to several different perspectives and then engage each area somewhat methodically, taking note of what works and what doesn’t. Sometimes I don’t know what doesn’t work until it’s done and I notice that the drainage is off in a heavy rain, or that a wobble develops after some repeated walking.
So there are a few areas that I plan to revisit and improve. But for now I’m enjoying moving forward with what’s next. With the exception of a few tweaks to come, I have completed all the walkways at the main garden entrance.
Up next is The Pocket.
But first, let’s pause and celebrate this milestone!