Sunday, March 19, 2023

A Treasure Cached | Catherine Viel



By Catherine Viel, March 19, 2023

(Golden Age of Gaia)

March 18, 2023

A perfect note now fades along the lyre
Of grace: oh, she may turn again
In days of darkness to a picture flashed
By stillness and fruition on her brain;
Finding delight—as in a treasure cached.

~Jean Anderson, In Molten Sunlight



The squirrel’s back in the avocado tree. That’s the first thing that’s made me smile all morning. He dances from branch to branch, mysteriously clinging upside down and moving so quickly he seems supernatural.

I reckon the squirrel is joyful in the sun. I reckon we’re all delighted to be experiencing the first sunny Saturday we’ve had in weeks, maybe months.

Perhaps we need sunny days and frolicking squirrels to keep equilibrium, never mind tip over into joy. Unfortunately, the grimness of the world roller coaster ride is such that it’s doubtful that one sunny Saturday in Santa Barbara will do the trick.

*****



I remind myself, this sunny day is all I have to work with. This one day, this one moment. And yet, dwelling within whatever that moment brings never seems satisfactory. I’m always questing for something better, the thing I want more. The peaceful, clean, organized surroundings. The vibrantly healthy, mobile, agile physical shell.

What a dichotomy: half of me is chiding, go make it happen, stop being lazy and just do the work. The other half folds its arms and casts a resentful eye on that work, unrealistically wondering why life has to be impenetrably complex, difficult, and contrary.

If I didn’t believe that a more balanced, easier, and spiritually advanced way of existing on this planet was just around the corner, I’d be mightily motivated to get off my duff and jump into doing. My motto would be, it’s not going to happen unless I make it happen and it’ll just get worse if I keep putting it off, whatever “it” is—working on the home, working on my health. The nature of things (and the human body) is to deteriorate unless we counter the depredations of time with all our tools.

*****



Some commentators speculate that we’re in for a very rough ride until the fall, September or October. A long six months until positivity begins to prevail. Is the roller coaster going to come off the track? Are financial systems swirling down the odiferous drain at the bottom of the swamp? Is that economic Armageddon the first domino in this long-awaited final disintegration of the malevolent control systems on Earth?

This seems like one instance where busywork might actually be a useful coping tool. Even if I don’t feel like it, arising from lethargy and taking one small action can create my own domino effect. Not a cascade toward destruction, but toward the glimmering pathway that rises gently up, up.

Can my persistently fed-up self handle one gentle request? Just do one little thing. Pull one weed from the flower bed. Polish one tabletop.

I look to the squirrel for inspiration. It wasn’t just frolicking in the sun. It was industriously scrabbling about under the tree, either caching or finding a treasure. Weeding and dusting bear little resemblance to unearthing treasure. Perhaps the treasure is in the sensation of doing, and the satisfaction of having accomplished even one tiny thing. Very basic, 3D, and human.

*****



The sun should be there all day; not a cloud darkens the morning horizon. Perhaps my accomplishment can be emotional and spiritual rather than task-driven. I can spend two minutes in the sun, practicing the Earth-Sky breathing exercise my acupuncturist gave me. Boost my physiology, upgrade my mood. Give myself credit for taking care of heart and soul.

And once the heart of self and soul feels nourished, perhaps willingness to expand the nourishment of my attention to home and health shall occur. With this sunshine, such miracles seem possible.