Wednesday, May 14, 2008
I begin to have a real appreciation for how the old farmer feels who climbs out of his storm cellar to view the utter devastation to his farm. The house is gone. The barn is gone. Even the cow is gone. So he just sits down on the steps of the storm cellar and starts laughing at the completeness of it all.
I took my macbook Pro in for an upgrade the other day and in the process my hard disk got corrupted. I lost everything but the specific files I had backed up. Good thing I had done that. But I lost me email for the past 10 years, training logs, calendar, address book, even the "cow".
On top of that, my books are supposed to be showing up on my front porch this morning and I've lost the addresses of the people who made advance purchases. It's going to be an interesting time.
On the other hand, it's a great opportunity to realize just how attached I've gotten to the bits and pieces of everyday life. How important are they, really? I still have my body, my mind, my soul, my wife, my home - not a bad deal.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
The changes are coming fast and furiously, so why not change up to a new blog site and spread the word, eh?
My first book - Dance of Stones: A Shamanic Road Trip - is due off the presses any day now and it feels like a good time to climb out of the little pond I've been swimming in and begin to explore some distant shores.
Mind you - this is taking the place of my initial gardening plans for today, which got rained out. In the future, it might well happen that this blog will be interrupted by sunny skys. Worse things could happen.
I hope to allow this to grow in an organic and haphazard way - much like my garden - focusing on whatever happens to be on my mind when I sit down in front of the computer.
It was interesting receiving my advance copies of the book this week. I hadn't realized that I half expected the clouds to part and trumpets to sound as I pulled off the heat shrink wrappers - but I was somewhat disappointed to find that it didn't happen. The skys remained calm and, after ten long years of work, the book is done and in my hands, looking much like. . . a book. I had to smile, thinking that there is still a chance that when the truck shows up with the boxes of the rest of the books, there might be a bit more celestial response. I'll be sure to let you know.