"There must be more to life than having everything"

“There must be more to life than having everything.”
― Maurice Sendak

Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak

The sky is that soft flannel blanket blue and from my window in the vardo Mahina the moon is crisp against it present in her cap of white, her day hat for it is nearly the 'Ole Phases. Present for those who notice, our only moon reflects the sun's light so we can see the wild and wondrous things that are inside.This has been a wild, wild week. Astrologically the past seven days were described like this[subscribe to Elsa's weekly newsletter for a weekly plan that might help]: "This will be one of the most dynamic and challenging weeks we've seen this year.  We're two t-squares and a poorly aspected, explosive full moon in Aries. It makes sense you be armed with a plan so that's what I'll offer." I have been wrestling with issues folks like me at near age 65 are challenged to deal with: Medicare-- to pay for health insurance, or not to pay for health insurance. This post is NOT going to be a debate about health insurance. Instead here is a place where an elder in training picks up her digging stick once again and asks: What's best for her now? Saturn moves into Scorpio (where many planets and interactions take place for me) tomorrow, October 5, 2012. I attend to the heaven's pathways and here's something from Eric Francis I'm considering:

"You are approaching one of the boldest “get serious” moments of your life, a process spanning nearly three years... I’ve described Saturn in your Sun sign (or in your rising sign) as an extended phase of coming to terms with yourself. Said another way, this transit is about becoming your own inner authority, something that few people ever do—and which is much likelier with Saturn in your neighborhood. One sad story of our society is people refusing to grow up; other people continue to have authority over their choices and even their opinions. Saturn in your sign can feel like authority figures or seemingly more powerful people imposing themselves on you. This is a reminder to take authority over all of those aspects of your life, and many more where you anticipate this kind of involvement by others..."

Many "get serious" moments fill my life; internal conflict is tattooed into my astrological chart.The years of living seriously with multiple chemical sensitivities gifted me with an incredible remembering, or what I described in my mythic memoir Wood Craft (soon to be published!) as reassembling.

From Wood Craft this description, "Reassembling is  version of recycling beliefs and attitudes that no longer served the original design of Creation. Bits of the original belief or attitude might have sustaining value. Rather than throw the whole kit and caboodle out, to become part of the Cosmic Heap, the wise Creators gave us the inspiration to simply reassemble and start again without too harsh a melt-down, if at all possible."

From this beautiful place in the woods, my family and I continue reassembling a life that is built upon foundations that are less grand; built less on hubris and more with humility. The extended clear and dry season allows us to rebuild the 8x8 Quonset hut adding more space for two old dears and their cat to enjoy a comfortable winter, stretched out together on chairs around a sweet round table for hot food and lively conversation. Not too much to expect, and definitely a progression over the past five years. Our choices to build what we build has been influenced on all levels by our finely-tuned connection to how we build and why. No longer willing to believe that if we had everything we would be happy, we needed first to live within -- diving into the deep tunnels and hidden compartments of beliefs to make sure we know our contents, and own them. Last night Pete and I were glad to climb onto the futon after a hot shower toweled dry with a clean bath towel.

Pete had worked all day and into the early evening muscling the long sheets of weathered copper and red siding that will be our new Quonset. Steel is unforgiving in his tensile strength. Screwed in place against the curved frames there are slight wobbles to the shape of things, and the paint will need to off-gas more before my tender eyes do not weep from their volatility. Lengths of salvaged green canvas needs to be cut and sown into ribbons to hold our winter pouches of insulation in place. The wooden table under the apple tree waits for me to finish my ribbon-making; after a romp with words I tell the table and the green canvas ... soon back to you I'll come.

Settled onto the futon, under a jumble of cozy blankets we pushed into a movie and watched and listened to the story of Max and his wild rumpus with The Wild Things. Five years ago the reassembling process for these two old dears began in earnest. There was no turning back, only moving steadily forward down the stream, over the rapids and onto sand bars for rests and rejuvenation; then dive we do again as life awaits us.

“I have nothing now but praise for my life. I'm not unhappy. I cry a lot because I miss people. They die and I can't stop them. They leave me and I love them more...What I dread is the isolation. ... There are so many beautiful things in the world which I will have to leave when I die, but I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready.”
― Maurice Sendak, Where the Wild Things Are

And you?