Ordinary

It is not Tuesday. Tuesday is ordinary. Tuesday is the bound Feneris wolf. The world after the chaos has been bound. Order. Ordinary. Aboriginal proscribed. And what is left? Ordinary.

For years, I've been studying the sacred in the ordinary day. The herb garden. Weeding. Feeding the horses. Making the bed. Preparing supper. Laundry. Ordinary.

Is it possible that we are ill prepared for ordinary?

People sweep their problems into piles and talk about them incessantly. People imagine all kinds of dramas, and talk about them incessantly. Do we know how foolish we sound?

I sat quietly last night. Turned off the TV. It was just wasting my time. I marvel at the emotional color and depth of my interior in an ordinary evening; fear, anger, vertigo, all in an ordinary evening.

And today?

When I think of what is of value in this day my thought turn at once to the herd. I hope to ride Pebbles soon. I hope she has the appaloosa shuffle. Ace will be home this afternoon. Maybe we can have the entire herd together and I can take some pictures. That sounds good. All seven of them together for the first time. Even let Sara out for an hour or so of grazing. She'll love it.

Ordinary.