That last entry, “The Private Door Swings Open“, found its way to the Archives because for the first time in these 40+ days of blogging, I felt like I had nothing to share.
Reflecting on my Sunday, there was no way I could bore you with the details of my wearisome (and non-sustainable) tour of “big box” stores. All I could think to write was how I spent more money than I had on things that I needed. Like socks for Jeb at Kmart, toilet paper at Home Depot and olive oil at Costco.
Profound in the mundane? It seemed profundity could not penetrate a mundane of such proportion. My ‘everyday’ inspiration hit a big, bonus-size, writer’s block right around the Costco member counter.
At the beginning of this year I took a writing workshop with Kim Stafford, where he assured us that the creative well is an infinite source. You don’t have to worry about running out. No hoarding necessary. Share your work and let it flow, trusting that more will follow.
During the workshop I wrote “The Private Door Swings Open” and I’ve been stashing it ever since. Go figure.
So yesterday when the muse offered nothing but a Home Depot receipt for cockroach traps, I suddenly felt compelled to share the “Private” piece. It seemed fitting in that the story took place just about year ago and I will soon be returning to Big Sur (though not to see the rocket scientist).
That time in the cabin was an oasis in the desert. From it came watercolor paintings and love poems. It inspired a long-distance love affair that spanned continents.
I share it here because I think it’s a great story…and it’s time for me to let it go.
No need to hoard it. There’s an infinite well of epic life experiences yet to be had.
I’m sure I’ll tell you all about it…
For the Archives 
Today, I wonder whether there’s any poetry out there, after branding a few small calves to start our next phase of harvesting grass to produce beef… and it was a dance: two young men on young horses, shaping loops to catch and bring them to the fire in easy, unhurried time, training time. 70 degrees, sunshine on green, sycamores turning – a beautiful day, plus we got a little work done. A trial run, before we get into full-time branding, an easy day to see if all of the syringes, all of our parts are in order. Nothing here to hoard.
Branding again Friday, tomorrow Costco. Ugh! Lots can happen before the last calf’s branded. xxooxxoo
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Toni Childs has a song called “I Saw God in the Supermarket.” Poetry comes like the Divine and you never know what verse may emerge in the frozen food aisle. Chances of an encounter with this Greatness in Costco’s midst may be seem slim but I’d stay on the lookout. Should inspired prose come to you in this place, it could be deemed nothing short of a miracle. Wishing you an easy journey into town with plenty of magic on the way. You’re right, lot’s can happen…Godspeed! 🙂
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Isn’t that one of the creative’s greatest fears- that the well will either dry up, or worse yet- we might forget how to get to it? I suppose one must learn to trust that it’s just like the tides. It goes out, but never fails to return… eventually. Still learning.
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Yes. And the ‘learning’ is the process. I’m discovering the value of the experiencing and exploring the art. It’s almost as if what is produced is simply a byproduct of the journey. It challenges the mind-set of a goal. Nothing to ‘get to.’ Perhaps even waves have no agenda. The moon tugs and pulls, they roll and curl. Sometimes I feel like that perfect watery tube arcing high, other times I’m crashing and dissolving on the shore. I’m thinking if the wave doesn’t argue, why should I? Imua, my friend!
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