The Hound of Love loves snow, and she loves you. Smile.

  December 7, 2008 – “Tis the gift to be simple,
                              ’tis the gift to be free,
                              ’tis the gift to come down
                              where we ought to be.”

   I’ve always enjoyed Elder Joseph Brackett, Jr’s great hymn about freedom and simplicity, although I have never really been able to live it. I especially loved the last verse, “to turn, turn, will be our delight
till by turning, turning we come round right.”
   I suspect he was thinking of me. I’ve enjoyed the conversation launched this week on the website. Lots of great messages from wonderful people, the usual snarky growls, which can be useful too.
  I have never gotten anywhere by standing still. I am not a fan of stasis. I am not into downsizing.
  This year has challenged me in a number of ways, and still is. I do not want to live like Elder Brackett, Jr. – I have too many nice lenses – but I do see that I have lost the gift of simplicity, and the freedom that it brings. I need to get that back, or rather, need to get it period.
  I have never had. I’ve benefited from compulsive, even obsessive energy, and it is not age that is causing me to focus on my life, but self-awareness. Joseph Campbell reminds us that when the mask comes off, you better know who you are. I did not, and am learning more about myself every day.
  One thing I am learning is that I do not always know how to be simple and free. I was wise to get this farm, foolish to change it on impulse, determined to get it right.
  I do not want the farm to be animal rescue facility, although those are worthwhile. Nor do I want it to be a petting zoo or a veterinary clinic. Nor do I wish to drown in a frenzy of chores, tractor repairs, manure remove, fence repair and expenses. I am first of all a writer, and a writer needs some space around his or her head to think. I am also now a photographer, and that also applies.
  I want to make room and time for people, who are increasingly important to me, as I become available to them. First, my love of animals centers around dogs, who are the heart of the farm and on the things I can do with them, from herding to hospice work.
  My photography needs more time and thought if I am to become the artist I hope to be. Artists know this is not a choice, but a powerful need. My writing needs time and space. So does my life and my heart.
  I am not too tired to be here, or too sad, or even too overwhelmed. I am in good shape and full of energy and ideas.
  But Elder Brackett has it right:
when we are where we ought to be, and when we find ourselves in the place just right, when true simplicity is gained to be and to bend we shan’t be ashamed.
  I am one of those people who believes that these hard times will provoke better times, in many ways. I am already working on being less wasteful, more conscious of environmental things, more aware of politics, eager to see a new and more meaningful kind of economy emerge. I think often of Jim, the service manager at Glens Falls Toyota, who told me the narrative in the country needs to change.
  My narrative needs to change also. I do live in the world, not in an animal bubble
  I would like to be part of that, not hidden or removed from it. So this is in no way a depressing trek for me, but a hopeful and important one.
  Bedlam Farm is not a fantasy just to soothe people, although I am pleased it does that. It is an idea, and an evolution. It ought to always be a place of encouragment and lifting up of the creative spirit, and I will always work hard to keep it that way. This is a very good process for me, and I am enriched by the thoughtful, encouraging and wise messages coming to me. Mostly, I am being urged to keep sharing the process. I will.