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Widows, Rainbows and Bitter-Sweets

Widows, Rainbows and Bitter-Sweets

I haven’t had too much time to write lately although I often whirl the mind thoughts considering the words to share the happenings of the world around me.  In other words, I talk to myself a lot.   

I guess I am attempting to make sense of what has happened.    Maybe I am trying to put my experience into the echo-chamber thinking and hoping one little voice might make a difference.   I am aware of the (my) ego maybe wanting response.  I wrote about this here…. “replicate”.    

I’ve shared for many years on social media..and, yes, love when people respond and connect. It makes you feel that your words have a positive impact.   However, that is social media and it is very different that sharing here on this blog.   It is time for me to just put it out there on one’s own accord without facebook homing attention.     You are reading this because you came without the consensus critiques deeming me acceptable in those platforms.  I stand alone.  That is my new echo.

I am busy and the  busy-ness of life actually helps to mutate the moments of grief.   There is a “getting used too” the changes that happen when you lose a loved one.   I am not sure one ever gets used to it.  You just establish different patterns and hold the memories in the rainbows that appear after the drops of sudden tears.     Somehow you get stronger…or more used too it…maybe?   Behind the rainbow is a storm saturated with the light.   The essential ingredients for rainbows are, of course, rain and sunlight and they “arc”.  Why do they “arc”?    Jim was fascinated with this as it shouldn’t “arc” in our should flat line…as wyrd as that sounds.    For those who know what I talk about, high five!   

I am feeling quite disappointed at the world at large….and many friends and family who jump on the mainstream bandwagon thinking the world is dying due to a common cold.    It all contributes to the personal experiences of late.    Have we gone crazy?  I have been told that in some parts of the world (Canada), you are forced to contain your social to “bubbles” (they are calling them “bubbles” and everyone has an allowed “bubble”.    Oh dear!      If you don’t abide, you are a rebel and you are frowned upon.   So much does not make sense.   If you are wearing a mask and believe it is protecting you (as “they say” it is), then why worry about another who is not.   You are told to get vaccinated to help protect us humans, but it won’t give you immunity and you still have to wear a mask and stay in your bubbles.   You can test positive for the virus which means your immune system has reacted to it and asked to quarantine until you test negative.   That doesn’t make sense.  Once you have created the anti-bodies, that doesn’t change.  You will never test negative.       Yep, Jim couldn’t have handled these current affairs.   And, in some ways, I can not not either.   There is no reasoning with it.    It just is a machine and “weitko” gone crazy.

What is propaganda?    Something that supports the agenda..literally!   “Prop…to hold up…Agenda”.    I pitch fork that notion! For anyone who thinks that what they are learning from “news” or “netflix” is real…wake the fuck up!  Here, I speak for Jim…and he would have added 5 fucks to that statement.    Getting vaccinated means you are endangering the rest of us.   Yes,  that point is tossed back at us unvaccinated ones.   But, seriously, think about it.     

I have refrained from being rude and insulting to those who get the stab because I do understand how they have been manipulated and have compassion for their concerns, worries and fears.   However, I see them as brainwashed.   I can’t say it any other way.    But, I don’t intend insult.  I just question where common sense has gone?    I am actually getting to a point where I don’t care because I can not effect a change other than continuing to stay true to me.   What I do care about is what is “real”.   This charade is NOT real.

So, I continue to focus on the land and what I feel is its’ legacy,   That is what my role, now.   It is grounding.  When shit hits the fan, go to the garden to get real.   I don’t know how that works, but, it does.   Perhaps those microbes are crawling into my being and microbiome and establishing a good relationship that is healthy and productive.    Eat dirt!   I love that saying!   And, when I am deeply into the garden it really does feel like Jim is watching me because he adored what I created.  I stop, look around..and, no, I  can not see him.   I feel him.  I feel me and I hope in a profound way he is there, somewhere, encouraging me to continue!   Perhaps he is in the microbes?

The garden and the manly structures here on the land are one.    Our home right now is in need of some repairs.    Things break down…and that is life.  It just seems to be a cascade lately.    It is frustrating because I am generally a “fixer” but long to have Jimi here right now because he was the ultimate “fix it” guy I ever knew.    I wonder, did I appreciate him enough when he was here?  We both excelled in our “thing” and I am not sure he knew how much gratitude I had for the “perfect man” for me.   I am left with his creations around me that need care leaving me missing him more.  

The soil laboratory area is almost complete and the landing pad for plant and microbiology offerings is in process.   It feels like we are almost there yet very far away too.   

It is a world of legals (deep thoughts and thin papers about how to protect the land and people from the people), structure, placement, building, tossing, turning. temperature taking, microscope viewing and knowing about the fundamentals that give us life.    I haven’t been able to find the words, yet, to explain that soil is soul…but it tantilizes me daily.   I think we need to get this right…NOW!   The legals are mindboggingly necessary but only due to the circumstances of the law and it’s matrix infiltrations.   I am in a construct of the world we live in for sure!   I only desire that when I leave, the dream continues.  I have to play the legal world to ensure that…as unfortunate as that is.   

There are camionetas (trucks) of material arriving and being carefully placed and stored for the future of rich, abundant soils.   We are cooking.    Much of the work is being done by Ale, Ricard and I and our muscles and skeletons ache in nightly satisfaction.   

I shared about Ale in a recent post.    Ale also is a recent widow and lost her partner and the father of her little boy to cancer.   It is probably why the two of us connect.   I know when I look into her eyes she knows what I am feeling and I feel the same about her.    Interesting we also hold similar experiences and memories loving addicts (another story).   We react and respond the same.   I adore Ale!   She has a gumption above the norm.    She digs in.  She cares and she has a heart and a commitment that is rare in this world.   She appreciates me and I, her.

One of the deliveries this week was massive amounts of sugar cane (spent).    It is our job to unload.  That is quite a job….and we did it with sweat, muscle aches and deep breaths.  The deliver came complete with the truck owner’s family members who knew Jimi and Ale’s late partner, Luca.    Jimi and Luca were both well known and respected men.   So, here was Ale and I chucking a truck load of Abono, sweating ourselves silly and knowing that Jim and Luca were instrumental in these two widows unloading a huge truck of sugar cane.   The word for widow in spanish is “la viuda” pronounced “boo da” (with a soft b).   It tickles me that we are two beautiful “boo das” continuing life as our ex partners smile upon us from a place unknown.

I miss Jim and I miss Kaya terribly.   Every two weeks or so, I reach out to my daughter with a little message of love.   I haven’t received any responses and I am never sent updates or invited to know about Kaya.  The only way I connect with Kaya is via instagram (where either G or Alex post) or from others who received photos and share with me.   Kaya, like Jim, is often on my mind.  There are little ones around me a lot and I appreciate their innocent wisdom.    They don’t make up for losing Kaya, but they make things a little lighter.   At a family dinner last night, my friend said he remembered Kaya with me…and how we, together, were connected.  We are!   Kaya, one day you will know me.  Her parents are very good parents except in this regard…and it might tear them a part one day.  I hope not but i won’t bull shit that I didn’t try to stay in her world and life.    

I know Jim just wanted to see Kaya one last time before he left…and he left feeling the hole in his heart.    I feel for him…and me.

I realize that things must continue.   I am tired of feeling sad and having moments when I do a downward drop.    I am tired of longing to hug Jim and Kaya.   I am tired of wondering why we have to experience these things.  I am tired of being confused and disappointed.     I still have moments when I really don’t want to continue is this new story…meaning, I desire Jim to be here and to have some connection with Kaya.    The take downs of memory-reruns take me by surprise and etch themselves with a continuing shock and a sadness that questions “why?”.   

And, I continue.   The continuing is keeping me sane.    I do good at doing and there is a lot being accomplished,  The change of the season here means attention to the water passages which will generate the growth of the land.    Although we are heading into the dry-ness season this is the time to grow the foods.  This is the time to make things happen.   This is the time to watch the work grow.

Yes, it is sad all this is happening without Jim…and in some ways (many ways) because of Jim.   It is bitter sweet.     And, I miss Kaya…I know, I already said that!

There is a rainbow tonight.   And, at this time of the year, there is a purple hue in the evening dusk-ings.    I sit and remember.  I sit and hold a feeling of longing.   I sit and ponder whether Jim can see me and is trying to communicate.    I don’t know.    There is a crisis of faith penetrating…and I allow it as another layer of witness to something we all encounter and will go through ourselves…death!      I will go to bed tonight, like every other night and imagine I am holding Jim and he is holding me.

It is truly complicated.    I have absolute faith and trust in our soul families who require us to do what must be done. Stay authentic and in integrity with yourself.

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