Bedlam Farm Blog Journal by Jon Katz

I’m going to the ocean for three days before it gets too cold, it will be raining just about the whole time, I see, which is good for us, Maria and I will have no choice but to rest and read and sleep and love.

I have learned the long way of the importance of re-charging. The thing is, I love my life, and always miss it when I am gone. Writing is not work for me, it is breathing. But we need more than work to be healthy and whole.

Every day, here or there, I spend an  hour in silent meditation, I open my heart to any God who wishes to hear me and to the experience of being alive. I am eager to do this near the ocean.

I am buoyed the news that Bud is coming. For reasons I don’t completely understand yet, this means a great deal to me. A new dog is a new chapter in life, and even as I begin to get older, I have never lost the ability to be excited, or the desire to love and be loved.

I am so excited for my young friend Sakler Moo, who is setting out on an exciting new adventure at his new school, and for the other children and adults I am learning to know and figuring out how to help.

Community is really about heart to heart, I am learning. I am living heart to heart, in so many ways. My heart, which I have learned to take seriously, is tell me to go to the ocean and sit and think, at times in solitude and come back looking at the world anew, preparing for Fall, for our Open  House and new dog and new friends.

I want to say that I will miss my farm and my dogs and donkeys and my very much-loved blog. So that is the point, I will be reminded once again of what my life means to me, I worked hard for hard and will work harder still.

My farm is in good hands. Nicole and Keene and the border collies will  keep an eye on things.

Every minute I spent with Maria is good and precious and meaningful time, talking about heart to heart. We are heart to heart, a daily miracle that never tires or wavers or fades. How lucky I am. See you Wednesday.

I wish for you to be happy and hopeful.

“Hello, sun in my face.

Hello, you who make the morning

and spread it over the fields

and into the faces of the tulips

and the nodding morning glories

and into the windows of, even, the

miserable and the crotchety-

best preacher that ever was,

dear star, that just happens

to be where you are in the universe

to keep us from ever-darkness

to ease us with warm touching,

to hold us in the great hands of light –

good morning, good morning, good morning,

Watch, now, how i start the day

in happiness, in kindness.”

-Mary Oliver, Devotions.

Audio, I read “Why I Wake Early”

I met with Sakler Moo and Ali at our “Office” at the Stewart’s Convenience Store in Schaghiticoke, N.Y. this afternoon. He just finished his orientation at the Albany Academy, and he feels comfortable and at ease in the school.

Classes haven’t started yet.

I wanted to meet with him privately and talk about how we would work together over the next few years to ensure his privacy and also raise the money for our share of his tuition and costs, between $5,000 and $6,000 a year.

We both agreed that I should see him once a month – anywhere of his choosing, school, home, my farm, our “office.”

I said I didn’t need to see him at school every time, or even often I now thought it best to keep that private, we could meet periodically at his home or elsewhere to talk about how he is doing at this private school, considered one of the best anywhere.

The family was upset last week by an aggressive reporter who approached Sakler at the school without permission. The school called Ali who said no permission had been given. So we’re talking about how to protect Sakler from this kind of intrusion in the future.

Sakler is shy but very self-possessed.

He doesn’t rattle and doesn’t want to be treated any differently than any other student. And of course, he wants to feel just like any other student, not a “refugee” student in need of help and attention.

He said  he is completely comfortable with me and trusts me, he will be happy to talk to me and be photographed any time and at any place. He said I have never made  him uncomfortable or uneasy.

I said that meant a lot to me, I wouldn’t abuse the privilege, I know he needs lots of space and support to deal with this enormous change. I also know he can and will handle it, and I told him we will do our part and support  him as quietly as I can.

I said people do need to see him periodically and he said he understood that. “I am grateful,” he said.

Ali came with him, and we are all planning to have dinner next week in Albany, my family, Sakler’s family, Ali’s family, including his legendary mother. We are excited.

Ali’s mother has loved belly dancing all of her life, and she and Maria are very anxious to meet one another.

I feel very good about Sakler, I believe we have more than $2,500 in his tuition fund for 2019 (Maria and I are going away from Sunday to Wednesday morning) and I hope to have the full amount in the bank over the next few weeks if I can.

We are not seeking any further support from the school or from anywhere but the Army of Good.

We will do this ourselves., in part so Sakler can enter into this new experience and not have to worry about where he is going next year. His money is in a special bank account that cannot be used for any other purpose.

Sakler is an impressive person, I am proud and delighted to support him, and I thank you all for helping to do this. We are doing good, and in the right way, I think.

If you wish to contribute, you can send a donation to me, Jon Katz, P.O. Box 205, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816, or via Paypal, [email protected]. Please mark it “Sakler Moo.”

Federal regulations now require that all monies coming into me must have my name on the Payable to line – these accounts are registered under my name – people can write out what the payment is for anywhere on the check.

The money will go precisely where you want it to go, the account will be audited monthly  by a bookkeeper and an accountant in New York City.

How great this feels.

We had dinner with Carol Gulley again tonight (next week it’s at our farmhouse) and we enjoyed it. We laughed, talked, did some reflecting on Ed Gulley’s death a few weeks ago. It is still raw and fresh, and as it typical of Carol, she wondered why she was feeling it so acutely.

it was nice, which we expected, but it was also fun, which we didn’t expect.

Carol is farm tough, she doesn’t really believe in any kind of weakness or disorientation or self-pity. I asked her if she had ever called anyone for help, or asked anyone for help in the night, when she sometimes is lonely and hears things, or misses Ed the most.

She look at me directly, and was confused. No, she said, she just never thought of asking for help in her life, and never thinks of it now.

In my world, people call therapists for help and support all the time, but in the farm world, you just put on your boots and get to work. Life is too demanding to stop and ask for help.

Carol says she has good friends she could call, and she also knows she can call us, but she just never thinks to do that, it is not in her experience to get help or ask for help from anyone outside of her experience.

I urged her to give it a shot.

It isn’t that she can’t function without help, she can and is. Carol is plenty strong and plenty tough, she has the farmer’s stoicism, life throws a lot of things at the them, and they endure. Still, sometimes everyone could use a bit of help. She listened, we’ll see.

She said she is struggling a bit to find inspiration for her writing, this, I told her, is completely natural, it’s only been a few weeks, she needs to take her time and grieve in her own way.

The writing she has been doing on her blog, the Bejosh Farm Journal,  has been quite lovely lately,I think, honest and thoughtful. It is coming, and will come in its own time.

Don’t rush it, I said. You are a writer, and writers always find a way to write. There was a lot of laughter in that kitchen tonight, and a lot of feeling. Next time, I’ll do the cooking – scallops, I think.

The season of color and light is beginning to fade, the weather is turning cool (at last), the flowers in the gardens are beginning to wither and brown, the Black-Eyed Susans are among the last holdouts of vibrant color, this one had great heart.

Flowers die well, and with grace.