Oh...America. Home of the Brave. Collecting (and then admonishing) the tired, the weak and the hungry. It's a free country, though some might tend to argue otherwise. So exists in this land of ours, shared and confined, opened and free and battered but gracious and all things in between some great contradictions. But one thing holds true- the value of opinion and personal freedoms.
Some may choose not to pay respects to the flag. As an American, this is their right, and in my humble opinion is a contradiction in an of itself, rather amusing in nature, I'll admit. Some support out placement in varied wars, others not. Some support the soldiers and others do not...some of us, support not the wars but the soldier as a hero, none the less. Most powerful a right, standing amidst the waves of grain, is the right to maintain dissension. Against government policy, NATO actions, global policies, and...I could go on for days. Dissent is a freedom which I maintain, honor and harbor with open mouth. And I vote so that my opinion matters. Some would disagree, but it's the action which justifies any dissension I might display.
And with all things I wish I could change about the goings on home and abroad, I am eternally grateful for the freedoms I maintain- like my education as a woman. My empowerment as a woman.
And the freedom to blaze trails and run in the mornings, alone without the fear.
Awake, this morning at 6:30, I ran, ran hard. Ipod on, ear buds virtually sewn in to my eardrums, I ran. The wonderment I felt at the beauty of my small town goes noticed when this running meditation of mine takes stride. In an attempt to remove myself from the confines of comfort, I pushed myself this morning, praising the freedom to exist as I do, fearless in my safety. It's a small token, I realize, but one that stands firm in me.
As the run comes to a close, I happen upon the front entry of my tiny house, realizing the run has exhausted me, and as I look at the plants rising high, and the birds chirping musically I am elated.
Gathering cash, bag and phone, I walk then to the Saturday Farmer's Market. The smell of basil is overwhelming and the sight of red berries, neatly packaged in tiny green mesh baskets makes me smile. I wonder, then, at the possibilities of a basil- strawberry vinaigrette...and I smile again just because. I am walking past piles of potatoes, stacks of orange carrots and bold, giant purple onions. A flash of color catches my sight and I find that flowers are splashed about the entire market. I am in love with this market...and the fact that it's only 7:40am, and I have already run, and collected my produce for the week.
Walking home now from the market I pull out a juicy peach from my bounty and take a giant bite, sweetness dripping about my mouth, dripping down my fingers and finally down the line of my arm. I'm walking home from the market, after a run, dreaming of the hot cup of coffee waiting for me in the kitchen. I'm eating a peach, the fog is parting making way for blue skies and sun and I realize my life is wonderful and perfect just as it is. How could it possibly be get better?
I suddenly recall the date and fear overwhelms me slightly...rent will be do in weeks time and I have lost my Rental Agreement, and suddenly recall that I am not sure to what address I am to send in my rent check. I know that I have foolishly placed it in a purple binder, which holds a number of other such important documents. I can't recall, however, where I have placed it and now my pulse races at the thought of losing something so silly and yet so important all the same.
I also remember the crashing I heard on my porch, and realize I have forgotten the fear I felt from last night at the sounds of something crashing about my back patio. It had been to dark to explore the nature of the sound, and I know that there is a snake, or a rat or a giant python waiting to suck the breath from my lungs...harboring itself in a giant swirl, waiting for the moment it can swallow me whole. My mountain man will show up later this morning, only to find me half swallowed by a ginormous reptile. Dead. Maybe he will call the US Army to pull me from the depths of the pythons clutches.
And then I chuckle...finding my rental agreement shant be an issue if I am swallowed whole by a reptile. One thing less to worry about, I suppose.
At home, I place my bounty upon the counter, taking in the colors and the recipes now swarming my head...
While over-stimulated and rather dreamy, considering the upcoming week's suppers, I know that I must face the creature, now living on my porch.
Opening the kitchen door, I am met by a tiny bird. She flaps her wings, frantically searching for the way in...so that she might now find her way out. She is hitting the screens, wrapping the porch, and my heart is sad for her, this caged thing who belongs out of doors. She chirps and suddenly clutches a screen in front of me, her chest beating wildly- I can see her heaving, her black eyes, searching and panicked. Opening the opening to the porch, from the exterior, I realize that I am now talking to her...out loud. I am coaxing her to relax, focus and fly out of the door I have opened...aiding in her escape. If this bird dies in front of me, I will not make it. I panic, as she does, grabbing gloves, pondering how I can just wisk her up and send her off to freedom. Her tiny beak stands pointed, as she chirps so lightly, so sweetly and desperately. I am thinking it might be wise to throw a towel over her, as she clutches to any given screen so that I can help her...and suddenly, she is on the rafters of the ceiling, scattering, flying, and falling. I am not about to watch this bird die- she must have caused the clanging, clashing and banging from last night.
Afraid of a bird are you my subconscious says to me, mocking. This is what kept me up all night...creating the imaginings of waking up to snakes.
I realize she has been in here all night and I wonder just how long her little heart has been fighting to escape this patio.
And I am talking to her again, telling her that I have opened the door for her, begging that she please make it out of here so I don't have to watch her die from exhaustion. And she looks at me from the rafter above me, flies then, barely missing the door frame and is out. She met her freedom, hours after a frantic attempt to free herself.
I smile now again.
A great morning already. Run done. Weekly shopping done. Bird saved...and what is this I see?
A purple notebook lying right in front of me on a shelf.
I see the top of paper peaking out from the edge of the notebook, bound by a staple and wonder if this is what I need.
I tug at the edge of the packet and see my Rental Agreement.
I've met this morning with a few tiny miracles.
It's a simple little life I live, but soon I will see my mountain man, and I am finally back in a place where I remember that life consists of tiny miracles.
