Kirkepiscatoid

Proverbs 16:16:

"How much better to get wisdom than gold!
To get understanding is to be chosen rather than silver."

This morning, I took a nice quiet "weed walk" down my dirt road, and I realized...my weeds have now moved into "The golden season."

In July, my roadside was an ocean of blue, from the chicory, which gave way to a little white from the Queen Anne's Lace and the beginnings of gold from the sunflowers. But we are in full bore golden along the roadside now, which, in few weeks will give way to just a bit of purple as the fall New England Heath Asters make their annual appearance.

But both sides of my road this morning waved a brilliant golden path, and sang a voice that said, "Fall is coming...but not quite just yet. See me now, and feel rich. Take me in, before I begin to slumber for the winter."

So I got to thinking...

Where is the "gold" in my life?

OMG. I'm richer than Solomon, if we are not including bank accounts.

So here is my list of the "golden" things I can think of this morning...

I have never gone without my first cup of coffee in the morning for over a year. That first swallow is definitely golden.

I live in a place that is filled with as much solitude and quiet as I desire, should I choose not to invade it with noise.

I have views of open fields, green pastures, and a night sky in which I can still see the Milky Way.

I have two wonderful dogs, who frustrate me to no end at times, and turn around and shower love on me when I least expect it.

I have friends, real and cyber, who sometimes humble me with statements that I would never ascribe to myself. Yesterday, one called me "an angel with muddy feet." It is a little hard for me to accept being any kind of angel at all, but to call me an angel in that particular way, I can kind of handle, because it speaks to the flawed human-ness that dogs me at times. I so sometimes don't want to be quite so human. But that statement reminded me it is precisely my human-ness that makes me lovable to others. As we say in golf, "It's not your best shots that make a great round; it's how you play your bad shots."

I have a job I love, even though I realize at this point in my life, I will not have the stamina or the mental energy to do it forever at the level I am presently doing it. In some ways, I feel as "at the top of my game" in my job as I ever will. But I am starting to feel the loss of my ability to multitask, I am starting to feel the annoyances with "the system," and I know to enjoy this part of my career NOW, and begin to explore what "the next great thing" is for me.

I have a sense of purpose, even though I am not always sure exactly what that purpose IS.

I have enough money in the bank that I can live happily below my means and have money on the side to give away some to whatever or whomever I choose to help. It is a blessing to be able to write a $250 check "on a whim." When the Kirksville Tornado hit in May, a medical student I'm a little closer to than the others, lost all the contents of her house. I was able to whip out my checkbook, write her a check, and say, "Go buy some stuff. Don't say a word, except 'Thank you.' You don't owe me a dime, just remember this someday and do exactly what I am doing for you."

I have a sense of loss. Loss for those who have passed on before me. Loss for the things I wish I could have done differently. Loss for those close to me, who are still close, but moved away, and we don't have the same level of interaction that we used to. If I did not have that sense of loss, I would never know the things in my life that are the true riches in it.

I have a growing sense that time "bends." It teaches me what "living in the moment" really means.

I have the spectacle of a mini-microcosm of local nature--bugs, bees, hummingbirds, hawks, owls, possums, deer, raccoons, mice, moles, voles, butterflies, toads, and ticks. All I have to do is sit in my yard, be still, and let the show unfold around me.

I have the ability to "entertain myself" by observing. Being alone is almost never boring for me, unless I just get in "a mood." I crawl outside of myself and observe nature and people, and time can literally fly in those moments.

I am blessed with this strange "dual brain" of mine. One half of it is intelligent and practical. It analyzes, dissects, sees the world in a no-nonsense sort of way, and takes no prisoners when it comes to "real" vs. "fake." The other half is incredibly perceptive and absorptive. It is the dreamer, the poet, the imagineer in me. It finds the things that lie behind all the things the other half of my brain dissected. It tells me the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. I think these halves of my brain often squabble, and the practical half might be a little jealous of the perceptive half. The perceptive half feels a little dependent on the practical half to make a living, and feels a little subdued now and then.

At this very moment, while I'm composing this, I'm in the yard, and above my computer screen, in the hazy sky, is a turkey vulture riding the drafts. No one is ever going to give a turkey vulture a blue ribbon in a beauty contest. But as it lazily rides the currents, it circles and glides and seems content with the beauty of its own ability to ride the wind effortlessly.

It's telling me that this weekend is not about packing as much activity as I can muster on this three day weekend, it's about simply riding the currents and only adjusting my wings enough to enjoy the ride.

This is as golden as it gets.