They are young. What I say means next to nothing. Of course it doesn’t. How I say what I say means everything. Of course it does.
They are in the moment, always. No past, no future – only now. Full of desire, bursting with want, not yet having developed a filter, they say exactly what they want to say. I admire them. I wish I were as tapped in.
I carry out two plates of pancakes. These morning cakes are syrup sponges. I balance two plates in one hand, imitating the servers I’ve seen at restaurants, and two cups of orange juice in the other. I want them to have orange juice and also, by carrying them all at once, I am mitigating the where’s the orange juice? or I want juice too! I am learning to lessen my own suffering. What’s next is having them come get their own food. One thing at a time though — I made a good breakfast and that’s the success of the moment.
They see the plates. Ugggghhhh I don’t want pancakes! You said we could have croissants! You broke a promise!
They are right. I did say they could have croissants, but I forgot to set out the frozen croissants the night before as they need to thaw and rise. I said I was sorry, that I had forgotten to set them out. I say that it’s ok not to want pancakes, and it’s also unkind to say I don’t want that in that particular tone (you know that shitty tone) whenever someone brings you something they’ve made for you.
It’s ok not to want it. It’s not ok to roll eyes and audibly bemoan an act of service. I don’t say it that way. I say it in kid words, with a calm tone, and no accusation.
Sometimes I say it with accusation and frustration. That’s always about me and not about or for them. This time I say it for them, on their behalf, for their future that they don’t need to think about.
I walk away towards the kitchen, turn around at the door, and see them each taking bites of pancakes.
Sometimes it goes well.
If you want to shrink something, you must first allow it to expand.
If you want to get rid of something, you must first allow it to flourish.
If you want to take something, you must first allow it to be given.
This is called the subtle perception of the way things are.
The soft overcomes the hard.
The slow overcomes the fast.
Let your workings remain a mystery.
Just show people the results.
Tao Te Ching
Built a roof rack for my Mazda 5. Found a Thule cargo basket for $50 on FB marketplace. Spent maybe $100 on other materials: rubber bottle stoppers to buffer the rack from the roof of the car, threaded rod, unistrut bars and attachments. Measure, cut to size, fab, paint, fasten – not as sleek as a proper roof rack but a good $700 less expensive.
Kid is a mule. I won’t do it goes from verbal to gravitational pull connected to the earth in one sweeping motion. I don’t blame him. He’s his father’s son.
A guy at work, who is genuinely brilliant at anything to do with handcrafted labor, almost always says “That’s a good question,” when I ask him about how I should go about a certain process. He says it with a tone that says he hasn’t thought about it before or he doesn’t know, but that man knows. What he’s doing (at least in my interpretation) is inviting me into the work of listing out possible moves and choosing a path forward. It’s remarkable.
Fill your bowl to the brim
and it will spill.
Keep sharpening your knife
and it will blunt.
Chase after money and security
and your heart will never unclench.
Care about people's approval
and you will be their prisoner.
Do your work, then step back.
The only path to serenity.
(Tao Te Ching)
A Steve Juras piece in our home. He had a sign painter, the sort of person who paints on grocery store windows, put very Juras language onto large sheets of paper. How good is that?
Zinnias are growing well. No hummingbirds at the feeder yet — I think they’ll find the feeder eventually. There’s a mourning dove that coos outside my window every morning.
