It is not yet officially summer, and yet it is summer!
I have this very strange scarcity mindset when it comes to beautiful summer days, the cause of which I can pinpoint exactly: living 95% of my life in Calgary. Listen, when a beautiful day presents itself in Calgary, you had better drop everything and enjoy every second of that beautiful day, because you don’t know when the next one will happen. There is every likelihood that the temperatures will drop, or the wind will pick up, or there will be a violent thunderstorm that will flatten every single plant in your garden and possibly tear the shingles off your roof.
I need to get over this mindset because here, when it’s summer, it’s summer. And I love it, I am spending every moment that I can outside even while reminding myself that there is always tomorrow.
There isn’t always tomorrow for everyone, sadly. We had a perennial die and we replaced it with a clump of happy looking pink annuals, and then realized WHY that perennial died, which had nothing to do with the neighbour’s dog surreptitiously urinating on it. Or, that wasn’t the only reason. The main reason is that the small corner where the plant resided is just out of reach of our irrigation system, and so the poor thing just died of a lack of water. To ensure our little clump of flowers will not follow the same path of demise, we have been keeping my little watering can filled and close by for ease of use.
I got back from my walk the other day and went to give those happy little flowers a drink. I paused, upon seeing what I initially thought was a large piece of bark floating in the watering can. On closer inspection, this turned out to be a drowned bird.
I set down the watering can and backed away, repeating my husband’s name in a stunned manner and with increasing urgency, followed by there’s a, there’s a, there’s a over and over. I would like to be a Strong Invincible Woman in the face of a bird corpse, but alas. The fate of that little bird’s physical being was decided by my husband, and hopefully one of the many coyotes zipping around here had a little snack. Poor birdie. I hope its little soul is flying around happily, maybe inhabiting the body of a hawk or eagle, just for a different experience.
I was talking to my friend Sandi (HI SANDI) recently about insects, and whether or not they possess souls. We both agreed: why not? Why not, indeed? Everyone can agree that animals have souls: anyone who has ever had a pet in their life, or even watched a nature show on television, can see this. If we believe that, why can’t we believe that insects also have souls? Rather, I should say, ALL insects, because some, like butterflies are often considered vehicles for the soul. They are widely viewed as beautiful symbols of spirits flitting around in nature. It follows, then, if butterflies have souls, why wouldn’t all insects?
Opinions about insect souls can really say a lot about a person’s view of the world. It’s like the insect version of Denis Leary’s old bit about wanting to save the animals, but only the cute animals. One might think, okay, butterflies have souls, not spiders or earthworms, but why? Where do we arbitrarily draw the line? It makes more sense if everything does, perhaps spiders especially – have we not all read Charlotte’s Web? Those heroic arachnids spin webs to save us all from pests, and Wilbur from being eaten. Spiders have a job to do, people! Let’s give them some love!
I think every living thing, including plants and trees, including earthworms, yes, even including mosquitoes, have a soul. Possibly the soul of a person who lived a life of great cruelty might be destined to be housed in the body of a mosquito for centuries, who can say? None of us are The Divine, least of all me, and so I’m not here to judge. Maybe slapping that mosquito that lands on our bodies will release the soul to…another mosquito? The universe is full of mysteries.
Well. What started as a post about what I love to do to nourish my soul – working in the garden and enjoying the glory of nature – took quite a turn.
When I started to write down the things I do to nourish my soul, I was heartened to see that every single thing overlapped with the things I do to nourish my body and my brain: gardening, walking, yoga, playing music, reading. The number one thing that feeds my soul, and always has, is being outside.
The garden, of course, brings me so much joy; seeing perennial plants and tree leaves emerge in spring, the planting and then harvesting of vegetables and berries, the beauty of the flowers. Walking, whether it’s through nature-rich paths or on city sidewalks, and yoga are moving meditations for me – and regular, seated meditation is also a daily practice for me that is nourishing to my whole self. The beauty of music, the beauty of a book, the beauty of poetry – all of it is good for my soul. And as a bonus, at this time of year I can relax on my glider chair on the deck with a book and a beverage, and it feels so restorative.
While I was walking last week, a bald eagle soared right over Rex and I, and I just stood there watching him. Maybe one day my Watering Can Bird will inhabit such a glorious creature, or maybe a butterfly. Wherever it ends up, I hope it’s happy.
Weekly Reading
I had a DNF this week; it was More or Less Maddy, by Lisa Genova. I have to accept that I have not enjoyed anything she’s written besides Still Alice. I have to accept that this author is not for me. I made it through the first chapter, and then skipped around to see if there was any sign it would get better. It did not appear to. After all the Coco Mellors recently, I just could NOT deal with another book about drug use, mental health, and suicidal ideation. Moving on to what I did finish:
Heartwood. I enjoyed this very propulsive read about a woman who, after the stress of being a nurse in the pandemic, decides to hike the Appalachian Trail. She goes missing somewhere in Maine, and the search begins. It didn’t go at all like I expected it to, and I liked that! It was a great ending, and the story told from different points of view made for a compelling read. I learned that the idea of the book came from a true incident that ended sadly, which made the book even more interesting to me. Thanks to Lisa (HI LISA) for the recommendation!
Lives of Girls and Women. Yes, I had four library books sitting on my coffee table, but I needed – NEEDED – to reread the book that made me a Munro fan, 31 years ago. The heroine of this coming of age story – Del Jordan – is so resonant and relatable to me and always has been, even though I did not come of age in 1940s rural Ontario. My husband looked at the book and said how many times have you read that? I don’t know, but enough for the book to start falling apart.
The Simple Art of Killing a Woman. This book was intense. Intense and upsetting but very compelling, the story follows a young lawyer who accepts an assignment in an Amazonian border town, to escape her aggressive and potentially violent boyfriend. While there she learns about the epidemic of femicide, which is rampant in Brazil but particularly in this area. Some of it reads like a fever dream, the parts where the lawyer partakes in ritual ayahuasca use. It was a well done but very upsetting book.
Every morning I am up before the sun, and every morning I think of the Mary Oliver poem that wonders why people ask to see God’s identity papers, when seeing the sky break into morning is enough. At this time of year, the mountains across the lake are glowing pink as I roll out my yoga mat, and it is such food for the soul.
Speaking of poetry, look what I got!
My dear friend Maya (HI MAYA) has not one, not two, but THREE poems published in this very moving anthology. I highly recommend it. It is only available on Amazon at the moment, but when the choice comes to shop more ethically OR support my friend, I am going to choose the latter every time.
I am going on a long-in-distance, short-in-length road trip this week, so I will catch up with you on the flip side! I would love it if you told me what you’re doing to fill your cup and nourish your souls. xo
