up the hill to the upper field.

********

it's been on my mind lately:

how to get out of my own way

and let what needs to happen just happen.

sometimes i'm so tired and weary

of trying to be good, of trying to be perfect.

i've noticed this about myself:

when i try to hang on to something or someone,

when i feel a lack of control,

i become upset to the point of my energy

spilling out of myself

onto everyone else

and then i feel ill.

physically.

emotionally.

mentally.

and that's what happened last week.

it took the better part of a full week

to shake the sickness that had invaded every bit of me.

so, on thursday, when all i could do was sit on the couch and cry,

i knew it was time to get out of my head

and leave the house.

i packed up my favourite bag,

the one that reminds me my soul is special and loved,

packing up water, my journal, the camera,

and ginger ale.

i was still fighting that feeling,

the feeling that i was turning inside out....

i pulled on my xtratuf boots

because i needed to feel extra tough

and headed up the hill to the upper field.

once there, i watered the garden, hand-carrying

gallon after gallon of water down each row,

sprinkling,

watching the moisture soak into the ground,

observing the colours and shapes of all the young plants

breaking through that rich loamy soil.

pinto's collar-tags never once stopped jingling,

her tailstick the only sign of her in the tall grasses.

ziggy lay'd in guard and in wait at the open fence.

when finished with that chore, i walked over and

sat on the steps of the shed.

so overcome with joy and peace and love,

i asked mister pencilfox

"do you love me?"

his reply:

"of course i do. why else would i be doing all this work?"

and there you have it:

life is separate but a part of all that is around me.

life is good.

life is so very very good.

********