And the Wind do Blow.

shed
Some of my gardening efforts yesterday – laying bricks paths and rocks in the mud. Note the green bucket in the background. It’s filled with jonquils that are about to flower, because I forgot to plant them all out. Distracted gardener. 

Such a frightful wutherin’ gale blew about the house this morning! It’s died down now. But it was all in a lather at 5am when it woke me, blasting in from the South Pole. And then I was wide awake, listening to the wind wailing and fussing. I’ve too much of the element of air to delight in a gale. High winds tear open the chambers in my heart and mind, and I feel too restless. I fear I may float away with the wind, and not make my way back to earth. So I stay close to the earth, burrowed deep. The winds today carry shriekings of ice. A properly wintry day.

But here at Rapunzel’s, the sounds of the tempest were mixed with the sustained and gentle songs of the wind chimes, strung around the eaves of the cottage. I adore wind chimes, releasing songs of peace and magic into the air. These sounds soothed me as I lit incense, and brewed a cuppa by candelight in the pre-dawn kitchen. Merlin singed his fur on the candle flame, because he insisted upon perching on the countertop. I require supervision, you see. And he’s just always right there with me.

Yesterday, I spent the entire day in the garden, pruning, rescuing strangled trees from rampant potato vine and jasmine, digging out arum lilies (a noxious pest here); composting, mulching. Creating new garden beds too, and planning some no-dig terraces to make my hilly garden more manageable. I was a grubby, happy mud-wife by the end of the day.

Today there is work to be done, (mostly research, but also neglected domestickals). I have a large pile of books beside me, and I’m going to dive in there.

***

 

As we drifted off to sleep last night, the Bloke put his hand on my back and whispered to me, “you are a good person, you have such a good heart”. And some part of me breathed out, and drank that in deeply.

And I thought about how I wouldn’t change a thing. The people and places I have let go of, those I keep close, and how I have come home. How beautiful I find the world, but how little I want to be in it. That I’m now focused on wanting to give something of value, that’s born out of finding a deep, yet simple happiness. As well as a homespun, (not very sparkly, but real nonetheless) gratitude for what I have – my home, my loves, (yes, even Merlin), my work.

I also thought about how my experience of unkindness has taught me even more the value of kindness, and believing that people are basically doing their best, even at their most toxic. That when others are dishonest, I try to be more honest in my life. When they are ungenerous – through fear, jealousy, or a fear of vulnerability (or whatever), I try to remember to be both generous and vulnerable. I don’t always get it right, but I value these things greatly. And it’s keeping the diamond in your mind*, right?

I tell myself that character and consistency are truths in themselves, and will win out over falseness and misrepresentation. My focus these days is on the beauty of creating, giving, and loving in the ways that I am able.

Wishing you sunshine, and flowers, and excellent tea. xx

 

 

*Thankyou Tom Waits and Kathleen Brennan.

 

14 thoughts on “And the Wind do Blow.

  1. “…and believing that people are basically doing their best, even at their most toxic.”

    Too much that, Dear One. Too much that.

    That would mean, that the Orlando perpetrator, was doing his best.

    Can his best, ever be reconciled?

    Please, no…

    Please…

    Tessa
    Still hurting, by this senseless attack, on my fellow county men/women

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    1. I’m so sorry that you’re hurting, dear Tessa. It’s a horrible, hateful act which has left many bereaved and reeling with shock.
      I do feel that the events to which you refer, the behaviour behind it, is something beyond what most human beings can comprehend. A pathology above and beyond the toxicity or unkindness to which I refer. And a symptom of so many things which I’m loathe to explore here and now. Mainly because I don’t wish to add to any distress that already exists.

      Hugs to you, and warmest wishes. xx

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  2. Such wise words. I too believe people are doing their best. Some people are mentally ill, overwhelmed with hate and toxic neurochemicals, and their choices can’t really be counted in the same way as most. That is why we have systems in our communities to protect these people from themselves and protect us from them. Sadly, all too often those systems are weak. Or the communities are fractured.

    Thank you for being a sage from your cottage on the hill.

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    1. Sarah, I do feel this also. So much of what you say.That there are indeed people who are ferociously ill, and also systems and communities that are weak or fractured.
      Thankyou for your kind words. xx

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  3. like you, i don’t thrive in wind…high winds make me feel as though the skin is being peeled right off me, and my safety and sanity with it. ugh.

    your garden will be a place of such beauty with all the work you are doing, and all the gorgeous plants you are placing. i am enjoying the brief but luscious moment of the japanese irises in my back yard just now…they began to bloom yesterday. somehow they manage to do well, where so much else just…doesn’t…

    i also believe that people are mostly doing the best they can, given their mental health, their environment, their education, etc. yet my husband and i often laugh wryly whenever we hear a villain in film or telly saying (as they do with amazing regularity), “i had no choice!”…that’s always rather astounded me. i mean, there is ALWAYS a choice, right? but perhaps, at some level, it feels like there isn’t to someone who is so mentally and spiritually compromised that they entertain evil, and act upon it. not an excuse, but an explanation, maybe. i have a sort of queasiness about embracing hate, even of haters. there are bad/sad/mad broken people in the world. sometimes they do terrible harm. but i don’t feel comfortable going further than that; i don’t want to add one drop more of hatred or intolerance to a world already so burning with it…

    my husband’s grown children live in orlando, by the way. his daughter is lesbian, and currently lives in a poor area where the acceptance of gay is low (possibly due to general education levels being low also). we’ve been wishing for some time that they might move back closer to our home in maryland, partly so that we could see more of them, and partly because florida has become a microcosm of all that is awry in this country.

    i almost wept reading about your husband’s sweet words to you. i would give much for such tenderness…i am so happy for you that you are in a good and peaceful place in life now. and you know, he was quite right about your heart. 🙂

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    1. I loved the image of your irises, m’dear! Such beauties! Maybe you have a slightly boggy soil? I have a patch of ground where they thrive, and nothing much else is happy there – except for my pineapple sage.

      And yes, I hear you about tolerance; and also harm and hatred and not wishing to add more. Hopefully your husband’s children will make it back to your area, (I mean, the climate for starters!) I’d much rather have snow in Winter, (naive Australian, here) than year-round sticky heat!

      And thankyou for your beautiful words in general. You always add beauty and soul, and a sprinkle of your own special brand of magic fairy dust : ) xx

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  4. OT, but do you know that your Dear Readers are accosted with adds, when trying to navigate your blog?

    I so dislike adds on blogs. And I thought you have said, that you do too. So, I wonder……? Do you even know, that this is happening? And if you don’t know, how are you to learn, if no one tells you? Which is my excuse, for telling you.

    Otherwise……… Your Bloke is an observant and lovely man.

    Gentle hugs,
    Tessa

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    1. Oh dear, how frustrating. I’m sorry Tessa – the ads bug me also! It’s why I was thinking of migrating back to blogger (but too much of a headache). I’m afraid it’s because I’m using a free wordpress template that we’re getting bugged by ads. I might have to upgrade to a premium at some point, if it gets ridiculous.
      In the mean time, my apologies for the distraction.
      Hugs to you too : ) xx

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  5. Ah the wind that makes my heart sing even as it leads me astray sometimes. We need the whimsy, the fey, the joyous ones to counter the harshness in the world. Each sound of laughter, each loving word heartens and comforts on the nights the wind howls and we hear the despair it brings. Love your words, pictures and creativity. Ps no ads for me? Xxx

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    1. lovely merrymoggie! I’ve been thinking about you. All good things, of course : )

      This: “the wind that makes my heart sing even as it leads me astray sometimes”. Yesss! Oh yes. Beautifully said.

      And I do so heartily agree that in the midst of darkness and despair, we need love and laughter and joy. Without these there is only the darkness.
      Thankyou lovely one. xx

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  6. Your words, as always, are pure and true, and resonate with me deeply and often.

    Being a victim of abuse, it took much hard work to try and understand the perpetrators motivations, accept and move on… as best I could. For, allowing toxic memories to continually cloud my mind meant that everyday thoughts were being poisoned, leaving little room for clarity, and obscured the road ahead.

    I love your “homespun gratitude”.
    Homespun is the finest of fibres one can be made from.
    It is real, honest, enduring and strong.
    It is as “good”, as your dear Bloke states.

    Wind chimes are among my most favoured of things. I feel my heart expand when I hear them.
    On windy nights, I love to drift off to sleep listening to my sonorous Cathedrals, echoing calls from medieval towers, which rap ever so gently at a memory not of this time, but I’m sure of one long ago, and I am comforted.

    I have to admit to loving the wind. From a breathy breeze to a mighty mistral – one that I can hear from afar, long before I see it tear through the treetops. That deep, growl that heralds it is coming, like or not.

    To stand in the fiercest of gales atop a barren rocky cliff overlooking the vast, grey-blue Southern Ocean near my old country home in Western Australia, often had me gasping at the power as I felt the pull of it, trying to whip me up and away far across the sea.
    I close my eyes now, and can still feel it tugging at my very being, even twenty years later.

    Although, I must admit that now, living with five mature Mountain Ash towering over our roof here in a valley on the mountain, I am saddened to fear my friend the wind. For, I have seen the devastation that a large broken limb can do to a roof.
    Another reason for wanting to be gone from here, to a wee place in a clearing, the trees safely farther out.

    I raise my glass and toast your humble benevolence. There are not enough good people in the world… wish there were more like you.
    xx

    P.S. Your post title reminded me of the Christmas episode of Lark Rise to Candleford, and the sad, spooky tale of a young lass named Cinderella Doe that comes to the village…

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    1. Vicki – you just jogged my memory! It was bothering me all day, as I kept asking myself where I had heard that phrase, “and the wind do blow” – and you’re right of course. It’s from Lark Rise to Candleford (which I adore). And I loved that episode with the little Cinderella Doe, and her heart-breaking refrain of “the wind do blow”. I confess I wept over her story, and wanted to bundle her up and take her home. Great little story. Such a good series.

      “…allowing toxic memories to continually cloud my mind meant that everyday thoughts were being poisoned”. Wise, compassionate words. I really do feel this. I mean, it’s all part of the healing process isn’t it? There’s a time during which these thoughts and memories and feelings need to be fully felt and allowed, but after a while they can poison us. Moving on as best we can never excuses the toxicity of others, (nor does it make everything magically better), but at least it goes a long way towards not letting it hurt us further.

      Your description of your cathedral wind chimes has me swooning : ) As well as your image of standing on the edge of the Southern Ocean. It reminds me of the fierce beauty of the coastline I lived on in New Zealand. Black sand and indigo waters of the Tasman Sea, and the tempestuous westerlies that would stampede towards the shore. I adore my peaceful mountains, but there is nothing like the raw, wild majesty of open ocean. I think there’s also, spiritually, for me a particular kind of Celtic yearning in that.

      And I raise a glass to you also Vicki. It’s so lovely to know you. xx

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  7. i’m in the wind-loving camp, i’m afraid. although we had a rather fierce and relentless one this past weekend that left even me a bit twitchy. and as Vicki just observed, i’ve acquired a new respect for the powers of wind, living here, surrounded by trees and dodgy power lines. 😉

    i love your sense of beauty and hope….it’s something i’ve resolved for myself as well….to immerse myself in the love of my simple life — the people, the creatures, the land — because it’s the one thing that i truly *know* and it’s the place from which i do my best ‘work’. I have no wish to be in the world, either — it’s far too busy and noisome and i just don’t have it in me anymore. but that’s not to say i have nothing to offer….

    i also believe that – mental and spiritual health intact – people are doing the best with what they know at any given moment…..if i didn’t believe that, i don’t think i could manage.

    much love to you, bright soul. xoxo

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    1. Mel – I do think it’s the trees and wind combo that makes me a bit nervous. Because as Vicki mentioned above, being surrounded by mountain ash giants, (which have a tendency to snap in the wind), makes for a good deal of ambivalence. Hopefully your trees are a bit more stable. It’s pretty damned amazing being surrounded by them, though.

      And I can imagine you riding the wind, and unleashing good magic : )

      And you know you’re such a source of inspiration to me. You’re a beauty weaver, and always manage to remind me of what’s true, and real, and of value. Much love to you. xx

      Like

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