Back when I was in my 40s, I would still spring awake each morning as if on fire, so excited to greet each new day. I tend to view the gradual taming of this fiery energy over the last three decades as the clearest gauge of my aging process. Now I wake up gently, gradually, the boundary between sleep and waking subtle. I stretch my limbs like a cat, and lie there some more, thinking about the new day. Then I arise, and notice the rising levels of energy. As if I have a certain reservoir, and it fills each morning. The reservoir is decidedly smaller than in earlier times; I can’t just throw energy away. If I do there won’t be enough to complete the day. And even when there is, I benefit from a short afternoon nap.
Even in my 20s I was aware that what drives my own spiritual evolutionary process is physical, the body. My body dictates just how extreme my behavior can be without hitting a wall. As a young person, I could go all out, get wild, get drunk, stoned, stay up all night. All those things youngsters do when blessed with more energy than they know what to do with. Indeed, my own energy level was so extreme that I think my cigarette addiction was an unconscious way of siphoning some of that energy off. And it was in my late 30s, when I noticed that my addiction sapped my energy, making it difficult, for example, to hike uphill without getting out of breath, that I finally began the process of letting cigarettes go.
Since then, it’s been a gradual downhill slide in terms of energy available each day, with the reservoir shrinking almost imperceptibly year by year — to this year, my 73rd, when I have enough physical energy for an hour walk and another hour of daily yoga/tai chi practice — plus one more hour of physical energy. That’s it. So I have to carefully decide where to focus my physical energy during that remaining hour.
All that changed these last few days post-virus. Now, my energy, while still about usual for my own aging process, is decidedly up and down. One day I have energy; another I don’t. Like yesterday, when I had to force myself to actually walk up and down the basement stairs.
Today is better. But I foolishly decided to spring clean my studio/bedroom this morning. That took two and a half hours, and tapped out the reservoir. So at this point, with still a meeting to go this evening, I feel like I’m drawing on reserve energy; something I’d rather not do.
In any case, I wanted to give you a little photo shoot, of what’s going on around here with Rebecca and Brie, who are deep into spring planting for our new Green Acres CSA (with 1.5 members, the “1” being a cooperative group home in town.) It’s all part of what Rebecca wants to rename as the Green Acres Urban Farm, as we begin the process of truly changing over from a consumptive to a productive society here in our Green Acres Neighborhood Village. Here’s google’s view of the garden last summer, with the DeKist house next to it, Overhill house at the top, DeKist house topped with a solar array for both houses. The DeKist house front yard has also been converted from lawn to fruit and berry bushes. And BTW: we’re now adding the grounds of the house next door to that one into our permaculture design. More on that later. Also, it means we can get more chickens!
One more thing has to do with flea control. Dear Puppy Shadow went to the groomer to get shaved this morning. For the first time. We made sure to tell him afterwards that he is still handsome. I don’t think he’s convinced.