The Potatoes of Defiance

“Relate to the fear, not just from it.” ~ Stephen Levine

“We have been to the moon, we have charted the depths of the ocean and the heart of the atom, but we have a fear of looking inward to ourselves because we sense that is where all the contradictions flow together.” ~ Terence McKenna

“Fear is a strange soil. It grows obedience like corn, which grow in straight lines to make weeding easier. But sometimes it grows the potatoes of defiance, which flourish underground.” ~ Terry Pratchett

“A further sign of health is that we don’t become undone by fear and trembling, but we take it as a message that it’s time to stop struggling and look directly at what’s threatening us. ” ~ Pema Chödrön

A finch sings outside the window, which I left open because I fell asleep in the chair, woke up again, crawled in to bed, and was maybe oblivious, or maybe the cold air felt good, and the deep acceptance sometimes brought on by medical cannabis said “cold is good” and off to Dreamtime I went. So it is pretty darned chilly in the room. Admittedly, it did feel kinda good to wake up to the fresh air. The other feature of this morning is that I feel the rare urge to write some political commentary. Suffice it to say that the monsters that pass as God-fearing politicians in this country are rampaging across the metaphorical landscape, seeking to transform democracy, lay it in a coffin, then they all would say “She looks so natural”. Don’t think they won’t. These are some dangerous spoiled brats we are facing. Entitled little shits who act only from the crafted thoughts in their heads, who have little or no respect for little of anything, who salivate at the thought or having their rich and powerful friends step out from behind the curtain to . . . no, wait, that probably ain’t such a good idea. Nuff said. Friggin guys don’t do so well in the light of day. But the light of day is upon me, here, right now. I wonder if there is a word for the period between actual sunrise and the moment when the Sun crests the mountain summits to the east. Whatever – it happens with or without words. I don’t know just when the plunge began, but I am in a deep mini-cycle of depression, which came on sometime yesterday, when I wasn’t looking. It’s manageable. It hurts. It encourages the effects of gravity far too much. It sucks. But here it is. And I must prepare to head into Taos for a day of work. I won’t defy the Shadow, maybe if only because I feel to be underground, in the dark with the potatoes and beets, and damned if I am going to let this beast of a dire illness needlessly drag me any further down. Besides – I like beets. To some degree I feel that facing the beast and seeking communications with it is the way to go. So – I shall make it so. Onward.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.

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