Of Bears and Penguins

Feathers and Fluff

I used to be a devoted fan of Monty Python as were most of my friends, we memorized sketches and recited them constantly...

Which is to say that the sophmoric sketch about the Spanish Inquisition has been stuck in my head for a while.

In the sketches there is a banal set up, a mild chat, a courtroom, whereupon three blokes dressed in red costumes burst in to shout, "No one expects the Spanish Inquisition."

This is a lot like what my life feels like - the daily life and breath, the work and the rest, the slow work of existing in a surprising, and unexpected reality - and suddenly three odd blokes crash through the door and shout, "No one expects the unexpected and the ridiculous."

There is an absurdity in life that is hard to be reckoned with sometimes. No one expects tragedy, or sorrow, and yet it will burst through the door on all of us at some point or another.

But the deep wonder of the day

Like Thoreau, I'm a marrow-live-r - I want each moment to it's fullest. To live deeply takes practice, and stillness, and a deep sense of wonder for each and every day that dawns over one's head.

Even in sorrow, there's still wonder in the days, even though sometimes it's a pilgrimage to find it.

On Sunday, I spent a crisp-apple afternoon at the zoo. I looked at the funny bears, so clown-like and affable looking, the stately penguins who seem so proud and unaware of their humor. I watched a gorilla pick his nose, and then I heard over the wind the unmistakeable chords of "Blue Eyes Crying on the Rain."

I came upon a four-piece German band, a accordion-man, and a dark haired woman crooning, "In de tvilight time, I zee, blu eyes crying in de rain."

So I got a beer and brat, and sat down in the warm sun and listened to polka and yodeling, and om-pah-pah and so on.

I drank in the sun, which seems to be following the geese south, and breathed in the peppery fall air that tickles the nose.

I watched a variety of people walking by the band become struck by the the desire to literally kick up their heels and swirl, and step to the music.

I laughed and I said, "thank you."

Beyond that

New place, new job that's totally different from teaching.

The most striking difference (aside from the obvious lack of children) is that there are supplies in the office, like pens! and paper! and I never have anxiety any more about how much of my paycheck will have to go towards supplementing my supplies!

It may seem strange to get excited about hanging folders, paper clips, and pens, but just try teaching in the inner-city, where no one is above pinching paper from their co-worker, and then tell me that working in a well stocked office isn't thrilling.

So that's the news from Lake Wellenough. Or part of it anyway.

Love to all of y'all out there on your own road - check your tires, and turn up your collar against the rain.