It’s pollen season, and you ain’t seen pollen season until you’ve seen it here. Here are some photos I took this morning. In a few more days, my entire courtyard will be bright yellow.
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| all that yellow is drifting pollen grains. |
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| The cover of the spa. |
Di left mid-afternoon on Thursday. On Friday, I didn’t touch the vacuum, the dishes or put anything that I used away until yesterday morning when, full of energy, I applied myself to restoring order to the lodge at Pinecone Park. After a roaring good night sleep, I was feeling back to normal and energized, and I was keen to address all the work needing done.
And oh, how great home looked when I was done! I worked diligently for 3 hours to get the place back to looking good, and then I was ready to take Her Highness for a walk before heading off to the village to visit the nursery, post office (to mail my taxes! Yes!) and to pick up some groceries.
It was cool in the morning (3°), but it was lovely and clear and bright. However, by the time we got home from the village, the sky had become overcast and my desire to spend the day in the garden died. Consequently, after lunch I read until it was time for our second walk. We went to my favourite trail and as we walked, the sky cleared and so we had our golden hours, and it was beautiful to walk around the gardens. I’m particularly chuffed with the edible garden. It has never looked as good as it does this year.
When we got home, I was looking forward to seeing lots of activity around my bird feeders because I’d filled them all in the afternoon, and I’d put suet out, but I could see only one bird: a huge Cooper’s Hawk who was awaiting dinner. He left as I pulled into the driveway, and my small cheery winged friends birds returned–but not for long. When they all disappear, I know Mr. Cooper is around.
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I did a minor in linguistics. I found it fascinating, but one course threw me. The teacher was a fellow named Irwin Shaw; he was weird and I, to this day, cannot fathom how he justified what he taught under the banner of linguistics. This was in the late 60s. He had overindulged on marijuana, hippie culture and pop psychology and vocabulary. I could muster no respect. I could not do much of what he did with us that year today; he’d be arrested. However, there was one thing he taught me that was a very practical tool for living, and for that, I am very, very grateful.
He placed two stacking chairs facing each other, and two meters apart. He’d ask for a volunteer to come forward who is troubled about some aspect of their life, and someone always came forth. He’d have the person sit on one of the chairs and say: “Ask your other self, who’s on the other chair, what’s wrong.” Then he’d have her switch to the other chair and answer the question, and that would continue, and we’d watch the person go back and forth about their problem. Often, after a while, the volunteer stops moving back and forth between the chairs. She stays on one chair but continues the dialogue out loud.
I have used this technique regularly through my life, and I’ve taught it to others because it has been so incredibly effective for me. A highlight of my experiences with this technique was when I asked myself why I was allowing myself to be addicted to marijuana.
First though, let me say that this is like everything else: it takes practice, but it’s easy if you are honest with yourself–and why wouldn’t you be, you’re alone when you do it–and if you ask the hard questions, because that’s how it works: one of you asks, and the other of your answers. You split yourself; you become the interrogator and the informant.
That night, after pushing myself to search within and questions that might impress a crown counsellor, I said: “I feel like I’m not alone.” I would never ever have thought of that on my own. Irwin’s technique is wholly responsible for dragging information from my subconscious mind. That’s what it seemed to me to be. Another time, out of nowhere, just like the marijuana session, I said: “I just want someone to love me.”
These are simple little statements that resonated profoundly with me. Each one taught me a significant aspect of my subconscious motivation. When Steve left me, this way of procession my concerns was a life saver. A mantra for me from Dr. Shoja is this: Frontal lobes Chris, frontal lobes!” And by that, she means for me to use the rational part of my brain to find my way through a crisis, because in a crisis, our emotional state compromises out rational capabilities. Also, being a single person most of my life, using the technique was bouncing things off myself because there was family member or close friend to consult.
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Today, My Day, is brilliant and sunny. We’ll go on the big community dog walk, and then I’ll do garden work. It’s cool, but it’s going to be a wonderful day. And, except for Tuesday, we’re in for a week of good weather–not, however, with the high temperatures of a week ago.
