Monday, June 7, 2010
Heaven is Where You Find It
Who said "heaven is where you find it?" I heard this recently and I'm not sure where. True, though. One day, if you're lucky, you'll look around and gasp at the beauty. You'll wiggle your toes and feel connected to the earth beneath your feet. You'll breath in and feel flooded with the happiness that is your life. You'll cast your gaze and see every face you've ever needed. Every thing you've ever wanted. You'll be at home. You'll stand fulfilled. You'll have arrived.
Now that I've found heaven, I'm flexible. I love this place—Wickersham, my little green farmhouse—but I think I could take this feeling elsewhere. I love my mule, but I think I can love another one day. I love my boots, but when they wear out there will be another pair. And yes, I still have a wish list . . .
Finding heaven has been a growth experience. I think I've learned to look inside myself for satisfaction, but it took looking around to open my eyes.
Now, life's not perfect. We worry about the bills, the cabbage blowflies. The other day, in fact, I was watching a youtube video about tilling a field with a 46-horse Percheron hitch and I found myself suddenly crying—about the Deep Horizon disaster, about the state of things, about consumption, destruction, suffering, and loss. About the way things used to be, and never will be again, but also about the way things could be, but aren't. About the God Money and the terrible things His subjects will do for Him.
Crying won't staunch the flow of oil in the Gulf, but maybe growing our own vegetables will help. We do what we can, and I'm enjoying the doing.