Thursday, July 15, 2010

On Beetle Bands and Sacred Groves

How does one vent vaguely? I mean, either you're venting or you're not, right? Hypothetically speaking, I may have witnessed a violent venting. The victim was one of those huge, 4-point antlered beetles that have like three sets of wings and huge bodies and fly around clicking their wings like they're all in some hoity-toity, $700-a-ticket rock & roll band or something. Okay, well, maybe that's an exaggeration when one of them actually lands and you can get an unbiased look at it. But where there kamikazzying {yes, that's now a word} at you, they appear exactly as I described. Anyhow, this particular hypothetical victim of the hypothetical venting outburst appeared to be innocently crawling in the dust outside a hypothetical trailer door.



Back up. You need to understand this is not just any dust. And this definitely isn't any hypothetical dust. It's real and it's at least 2" thick and blows around your feet and ankles like one of those snakes in a basket . . . only there's no basket that can contain this snake-dust. It permeates your very being. Anyone who is brave enough to venture out into it is an instant magnet for it.



Like those magnetic games that have a face drawn on a piece of cardboard and then a plastic shell over the top of it. Encased in the shell are a gazillion metal shavings. The game comes with a wand with a magnet attached to one end and it is used to move the shavings around and pretend to put hair on various parts of the printed-on face. Only this dust game has no magnetic wand and no one in control of which dust shavings go where and why or when.





Anyway, I've wandered off on a tangent {that means something to me because of my geometry days} so back to this hypothetical trophy beetle. He was really just minding his own business. I don't know bugs or beetles well enough to know if he was looking for shade or wanting to bury himself in the sand to cool off. Since he does have all those clickety-clackety wings, maybe he was just crawling around looking for a high point for his take off. Maybe he was part of some synchronized air show the Beetle Band puts on. Well, if he was, the synchronized air show will be lopsided. So...there he was just minding his own business but minding his own business in the path of this hypothetical mass of flesh and bones who was in need of a ventilation duct. Yup, you guessed it. He got it. Sand was kicked on him by the crazed woman {who may or may not have really been there}. Beetle would no sooner crawl out from under the most recent covering than another coat was layered on. He was rolled over on his back and vented on with some more dust. Too bad the wimpy little rainstorm of tears couldn't reach the ground to either revive him from this woman-made dust storm he was in the middle of or release him from his misery.



This hypothetical rampage went on for a few minutes until it appeared the person who may or may not have been there may have sensed the presence of witnesses. Either that or she got an image of what it must have looked like beating up on a poor innocent Beetle Band member. Then this hypothetical person slumped over, walked away and vented some more with a shovel on a smoldering fire. Well, I decided I'd seen enough. I sought refuge from the tragedy in my trailer and what do you know, there was a Beetle Band member on my screen door. He did look a little dusty but I don't know if he was the victim of what I may or may not have hypothetically witnessed or not. However, I'm sort of making a wide girth around the crime scene. I don't know if I'm doing that out of respect for the possible death of one of God's creatures {even if he did choose to be a member of a Beetle Band} or just out of pure, unadulterated embarrassment for the possible "ventor". Either way, the unmerciful suffering of something so small and defenseless had kind of effected me. (Which is it: do you effect the affect of affect the effect?)





Anyway, on that note, though, I do need to say I do love this beautiful world Heavenly Father created for me. This campsite is dusty, yes, but it is also surrounded by grassy, tree-filled ground. I took my repentant body for a walk in "the woods".  "The woods" aren't so thick with trees that you can't see your way in or out. And it isn't so dense that I feel like I'll get lost or turned around but they're thick enough and of variety enough to be peaceful. There are aspens and fir trees and dead, fallen-down trees and tall, thin burned ones. We saw a deer last night out in these woods. Around the campfire last night everyone was talking about the black bears that have been killed or spotted up here, too. I thought that was very thoughtful since they all knew I was staying on by myself! Walking out in the woods now, though, I realize something else - there are many different sacred groves.



I sobbed my whole trek. I know my shoulders were shaking from the toe-curling sobs but everyone was gone now and so I didn't have to hold anything back. I was looking for phone service. Don't ask me why. Who would I call that I could spill my heart out to? Who would want to hear or, better yet, listen? That's when it became real to me that my Heavenly Father is there for me regardless of and totally independent of access to phone service. And in my sacred grove I was reminded of a lot of privileges and blessings that I am not using to capacity. That will change. One of my email affirmations said, "I love my eyes. I see clearly in every direction - past, present and future. I see good in everyone. I lovingly create the life I love to look at." I am full of gratitude for not only all that I see but all that I feel, too.



Well, so there's a little more peace in my heart. Sorry about the Beetle Band member, though.

3 comments:

  1. I'm sorry if I added to your frustration and heart ache by me venting to you. I think I recognize that area of trees...or at least one similar...where we walked with dad. A special place. Love you!

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  2. Don't you dare think you need to apologize! We all need to find answers at different times and in different ways. Sometimes we get to be triggers for others to start searching. Hypothetically speaking, of course! I love you and trust you!

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  3. I love those moments and experiences. I love the way YOU express them.

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