76 – one a.m. wanderings

sunset on big canyon
sunset on big canyon

Insomnia is the curse of the modern world, I think… Can’t imagine our ancestors staying awake inside the cave other than the necessity for somebody to be watching for whatever boogers are outside thinking of them as snackage. But then I realize I don’t have anywhere I have to be in the morning, and I get a heck of a lot less dramatic about it.

Bonus–when you’re the only human awake within a hundred miles or so, the thought process drifts effortlessly, like a tumbleweed drifting down the Big Canyon, touching here and there.

Moving, Death, Divorce:  A very good friend is uprooting her life to move to another state, and I’m watching her get a mite testy over e-mail while she does all the necessary mess that has to be done–and glad to provide the outlet.  There’s a “they say” out there that death and divorce are the only stresses that outweigh moving. I’m pretty sure I’ve exceeded 30 moves now as an adult, all the way from one country to another down to across town… the legacy of life as a military wife, and then marrying a man with an adventurous soul on the next round. And I’ve also gone through a divorce, and lost people that I loved with all my heart.

The experiences tell me that the three, death, divorce and moving, are incredibly similar–changes in state on an impact scale that varies enormously, but nonetheless, the scale is that of change. Humans resist change, but without it we don’t survive.  Not dismissing the stress… just saying we actually aren’t descended from the ancestors who didn’t change–we are descended from the ancestors who did. Change is literally part of and necessary for the creation of our DNA. Not saying change is comfortable or peaceful–but the evidence is in that it is inevitable.

Inevitable: That word always reminds me of Clayton (Claytie) Williams’ faux pas with Anne Richards. He lives just down the road–and is involved in yet another furor.  This one’s been going on a long time, and in fact, began when I was here in West Texas more than three years ago–pumping water out of the aquifers under Pecos County to supply the needs of Midland, TX, about 90 miles away. The ever-more-annoying droughts across the country are being blamed for everything–and water will only continue to get more precious as time goes on.  Someone will figure out how to blame it on oilfield fracking, I’m sure–but for now climate change is the culprit. Riparian and other water rights have led to all-out wars before, and it appears they will again.

Fetch:  I woke up this morning with this thought:  You cannot MAKE a dog fetch.  They either do, or they don’t. But they choose.  No matter how much you push, train, help, program, assist, insist.  You throw that stick, and they choose.  This is exactly what it feels like inside my head in terms of my creative impulses of late. I can (and do) make sure to prepare the ground to make it easy for them to express themselves, and that’s all I can do.  Perhaps this means I am not the artist I thought I was.  Or perhaps it means the exact opposite, I just never had time to indulge the impulses before.  Jury’s still out.

But, for the moment, the yawns are back, the SleepyTime tea has worked it’s minor magic, and I’m going back to bed, with lots said, but nothing actually settled.


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