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You need to yoke

For the first few months of this year, my goals for this here project are small. To write every day, even if it is just fifty or so words. I have to finish up my grad work- which means I can get better paying day job work, which, in the long run, might mean I can spread the Good (And Not So Good) Words farther and wider or at least have some fun traveling to meet some of my few but dedicated faithful and faithless followers. I work full time, and I need to exercise a lot to keep on keeping on (various health problems do so much better if I move vigorously more days than not).

Time is limited, but life is rich, full of work that I gladly took on. Lots of folks like to point the fact that the word “yoga” means to unite with the sense of yoking a team of oxen. While I dislike the way that capitalism warps work, making it a self-actualizing choice for “knowledge workers” and a much more circumscribed necessity for service and factory workers, I think humans thrive when they willingly take on all sorts of work- from physical, daily maintenance chores (cooking & cleaning) to long-term intellectual/creative projects (writing and art making). Without glossing over the disparities, I think it is possible to willingly take on at least part of the work of our lives. At least, at this time, in my life, I joyfully can yoke myself to my work.

I cannot work full throttle on all my work

(of god/dess, how I
tried
and failed,
tried
and failed,
tried
and failed,
tried
and failed,
tried
and failed,
tried
and failed,
tried
and failed,
tried
and failed,
tried
and failed.)

so, for the next little while, this particular work, this work to spread the Good (and Not So Good) Words will be about small, daily actions. I am preparing the bed from which I hope this work eventually will flower more fully. But for now, I am satisfied with puttering, with laying compost, with preparing seedlings. Much of my writing for these next few months will be a process of walking the land.

I am so grateful for the work. Joyful even though tonight, I am tired and must stop writing a bit sooner than I’d like. I stop knowing that barring catastrophe, I will pick it up again. And that, my lovely loved loves, is a grand, good thing.

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