Wednesday, August 19, 2015


Insect Orchestra. It is the smallest of things in life that can matter. I love a cricket chirp. Think of those who cannot hear it. CH.Even with the windows closed and fans going full blast I am annoyed each night by the cricket chorus that will not stop.  I am trying to see this as a lesson and think about what I can learn from my annoyance about this non-stop song.  Trying to find a picture for this post, I was reminded about all the stories of crickets and their songs.  But none of these gave me an overwhelming wash of warm emotion for these night friends.  Crickets make me cross.

I think the most frustrating thing is the almost, but not quite rhythmic nature of the song.  Just when you think you have the pattern and can thus relegate their song to background noise a song starts a fraction late.  Maybe that is the lesson.  As much as I want to understand nature and thus "control" it, it will not be held to my standards and that very disruption to my illusion of control is what is so annoying.  Each chirp is a little reminder of mortality and a lack of control. 

This is threatening unless I can find that place in me that floats in that chaos and knows it to be a part of the deeper patterns of our life and part of the circles we live.  In that space the crickets good.  They are summer.  They are safety - nothing too scary is on the street.  They are reminder.  A reminder to let it all go and sink more deeply into the circle.

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