Once upon a time... from Capucha on Vimeo.

who id like to be when i grow up.

"Service is the rent we pay for the privilege of living on this earth. It is the very purpose of life, and not something you do in your spare time."

To town for civic duty i show off my socks and drink a lot of water. home to a bowl of ice cream and dinner bread and stew for the boys. my vitals are excellent, she says. people take second looks at me, people fix their eyes and wonder who i am, i must seem more familiar. maybe its the vest that makes me look like everyone else. maybe its the atlantis stone, heightening the vibration. she says i gave about as much as a carton of half-n-half and im more tired than usual and started new socks in sherbet colors. to bed and book, the pack arrange themselves around us.

"Art thou pale for weariness/Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth,/Wandering companionless/Among the stars that have a different birth,/And ever changing, like a Joyless eye/That finds no object worth its constancy?"

A days work the pink november morning strong coffee an extra rx these days because. moonwalk with #4 and dogs so bright the cold mist of the moon and the deer running before us in the road and the smell of a small town at night in november. atlantis stone. a tall candle and cherry amber for tomorrows civic duty and cement. so familiar the feeling of far away.

oh yeah.

"It's a lot better to hope than not to." Snow. Knitting. Stacked wood. Pie and coffee. Dinner and a book. Something tied down and put away, the tender bruise that never heals, but patience and courtesy a cup to share. I think of it as a small brown rabbit that will rest in an underwood warren until the spring and sniff the new air and eat the fresh shoot and make a go of it again, moondance and hawkshadow. but the words wont come easy for awhile, the words recede into the sleeping ground into rabbitdreams leaving charcoal sketches like the bare branches of trees.

All One.

"...bone-hard, lake-cold, moon-lonely..."

"Any human who feels that he or she is not "good enough" to cultivate peace and generosity is overlooking the wondrous gift of life. You live, therefore you are good enough."

Thanks again, #4.

Bright Idea #109: "We are the ones for whom we have been waiting."

Heavy mist lifted quickly. 3am B1 woke me up and L1 sick all over the second floor, kind enough to get off the bed to barf. after a long but stepping stone sleep im up and determined to un-crazy the house. more crazy dreadful dreams looking looking explanations negotiations lack. but a clean floor and a sunny day and fresh sheets and ill get mennonite eggs on the way to the meeting and bake those bread and honey muffins something happy and sweet. and the boys in the boiler room loved the monkey bread and it feels good, this shout-out, like sunlight after solitary. and the sec. calls to say im not allowed on the bus anymore and of course im thinking "but i stayed in my seat and didnt shout and said thank you!" but thanks to the bottomless-ukie-spirit-bike (and the equally generous spirit of my dear Louise) theres enough to get me there and back maybe a day or two. grateful i can get a little housework done and the hearth will be in soon and a bookshelf to house the yearning masses and an easy day tomorrow being someone else and making a wage at it. as the day progresses so does the sick and i ferret out some random otc capsule just to see if it heads off the rising army that ive tracked for a month now like its My Internal Weather Report, which i suppose it is. out to get mennonite eggs and positive reinforcement as to my parenting which means the world to me laughing loud at the meeting reading about dog woman vs. evil chicken and his minions. post office shout-outs she remembers #4 im buoyant down the road to home a yard full of boys and feeling good enough for dinner maybe cheese omelet and toast then bed and work and a long weekend. blessed be.

Bright Idea #108: "The only way to live is to accept each minute as an unrepeatable miracle."

Little air. Walked up the stairs of town hall a xeroxed sheet of paper on the door like Luthers theses reading "vote here today" and a little room they turn their faces toward me and they cant pronounce my name and its click click click click click tah-dah and i linger to study the displays of turtle stones and arrowheads and wampum beads and brittle newspaper articles about a country doctor that delivered the babies that became the folks that gave me a sticker and showed me the fancy new scanner theyll be using in two more years. i went home and made empanadas and monkey bread and listened to my public radio station over the internet and knitted and sang little reassuring prayers to my optimism and when i felt like it was safe went straight to bed and woke up entirely happy and relieved. blessed be.

Bright Idea #107: "I expect to pass through this world but once. Any good thing, therefore, that I can do or any kindness I can show to any fellow creature, let me do it now. Let me not defer or neglect it for I shall not pass this way again."

Blustery warm cat-stretch under the duvet. going room to room making small adjustments, giving the green plants a good drink, dusting the dressers, avoiding the gravitational pull of sock knitting and snacks. i watched the missionary stand at the edge of the invisible fence, testing his faith. i caught his eye, and said, no. he said, no. then the dogs came inside and had biscuits. O. needs a bath, my hands are dry and covered in tiny cuts, i missed his call, and im in that awful state that is simultaneously torpid and restless. the afternoon doldrums burnt off, i made chili and finished a sock listening to npr. we sat down for supper and #4 discussed democracy, culture and lunchtime then suggested a moonwalk so the two of us and B2 and Z. ventured into the cool spiced night where the stars were many but the neighbors wet leaf smoke lay over the houses like a high cloth. he drew symbols in the dirt and i am grateful for these simple times together. i am also grateful that i have the air in my lungs to make the walk up and over and down. i am grateful i get to vote and hope it gets counted. i am grateful i get to work at a place i love. i am grateful for my family and my home. i am grateful for clean water and a safe bed. i am grateful that somehow i figured out how to knit socks and perform the amazing kitchener stitch. i am grateful that i can cook and bake for my family and they enjoy it and are nourished body and soul. i am grateful for the opportunities this world affords me to love and grow and share my Light. i am grateful for the Light.

Bright Idea #106: "Before we can become truly happy, we need to believe that we are of equal value to anyone in the world, and we need thoroughly and radically to eradicate any vestige of belief that we are less than others, or less worthy of happiness than others."