Many of you may also be going through the same thing I have lately, a sense of dread and panic associated with the financial markets and our own financial condition. It seems like there is a chance that everything could really go to hell now as the financial / credit markets are no where near stable. Governments around the world are guaranteeing deposits in banks in their countries (much like the FDIC does here in the US) but who’s to say that they actually have enough capital to cover it. Ireland has 10x as many deposits in their banks as their national GDP. Iceland just went bankrupt. That’s a weird statement. Iceland just went bankrupt.
Anyway, I think I want to write because I’ve found myself losing sleep and avoiding watching the news. I’ve also been in an avoidant mode in general, not wanting to deal with difficult things. That’s partly due to the grieving I’ve been going through so it’s definitely a compounded issue. The thing I’m noticing though is that I have these occasional glimpses of what life would be like if I were to lose everything. My father sent me an email reminding me of the zen master who was thankful that his barn burned down because “now he has a better view of the moon.” There is something very true about that that resonates well for me. Part of me would rather live on a commune farming together in community and raising kids, building barns, selling at farmer’s markets, fermenting various goodies, etc.
I was driving the other day and while winding through the beautiful forest that leads from my home out to hwy 101, the phrase “I should be living there” arose from within me. Interesting. I have always loved backpacking, and living in the woods, albeit for only 7-8 days at a time, has always been a magical experience. I get so much more in sync with nature, with the elements, with the moon’s rise, the stars, the sunset, the birds chirping, the little mink in their dens along the bank of the lake. Rituals naturally arise when I am there, morning poop, yoga with the sunrise, meditation, breakfast, washing dishes, napping, mindful walking, napping again, swimming, bathing, gathering wood, making dinner, writing in my journal, sleeping, and starting all over again the next day. It’s very special.
As connected as I may be to nature where I live, I still, through the internet, network news, and phone, am very connected to the “artificial world.” Also, I have these thick concrete walls of my home separating me from my surroundings and I honestly find myself going for walks only 2-3 times per week and not daily or twice daily as would better suit my soul. I’m always so happy to take my guitar, my journal, my blue chair (thanks BJ) and a blanket to the ocean and sing there and rest in the sand. It’s all it takes to bring me joy and to begin to recharge me. Sleeping in the sand is deeply restful for me.
I also hopped on my bike the other day and had this flash of a thought that this wouldn’t be so bad at all if Iwere to lose even my truck. In fact, it might actually be a preferred way to live.
So I guess that’s kind of what I wanted to explore. Actually, I think I really wanted to give a voice to this part of myself that isn’t so afraid at all, that is secretly wishing that everything would fall apart so I could get back even closer to the earth, closer to people, closer to myself.