Each morning, I walk the trails of Brunswick Forest. I was there this morning right after sunup.
It was a beautiful day, light, bright, full of sunshine and birdsong but it quickly turned to the dark and ugly side with birdsong replaced by a rash of ugly hissing from the Sewer Harpies. A perfect example of just how true the P. G. Wodehouse quote,
"It's always just when a fellow is feeling particularly braced with things in general that Fate sneaks up behind him with the bit of lead piping."
I'm mad as hell, and even if I can't do anything about it, I'm going to give the Fates a piece of my mind!
I began my daily ritual this morning by honoring two special trees that stand on the forest boundary. One of them has obvious windstorm damage. All the limbs on the southwest side have been broken away and the tree canopy is lop-sided. Even so, it grows and flourishes there in the forest.
I too am lopsided due to a vehicle accident that the Fates seemed to think I'd earned while performing my military duty. I feel that the tree and I share a special bond.
The second tree special to me is a specimen that is as close to death as a tree with green leaves can be. It has a slender trunk and is missing the top half. It has no real limbs and instead only a few small branches that grow directly out of the trunk. The center or heart of the tree is missing from base to apex, probably due to some insect infestation. And yet, this tree sprouts green leaves every spring.
Like that tree, I too am not fully present. My body is in that period of life when it regenerates one measure and decays two. Much of my heart, my spiritual and emotional heart, is missing, and yet I somehow continue to show new growth in season.
After greeting these two friends, I offered my gratitude to the Higher Power that rules life on Earth. I declared myself willing to accept life on life's terms. I usually feel better after doing so and today was no exception.
Then, I turned to begin my sashay along the trails, thinking of Mockingbird, who joins me most mornings and encourages me with a sunrise serenade, and looking forward to meeting up with Rock, my strength and my refuge against the slings and arrows that we hear so much about on the news broadcasts.
I was, in the words of Mr. Wodehouse, feeling particularly braced with things in general. Then...
Bam! Crack! Crash!
I took the first hay-maker right between the eyes and then a follow-up blow to the abdomen! The universe had set me up for the one-two combination. I was stunned. I was shaken. The ground rolled like waves on the ocean much like that earthquake I experienced in San Francisco.
I hesitate to describe the exact nature of the imbroglio because the emotions are still raw.
In that instant, the enlightened Genome you know evaporated and was replaced by the foundation-level, survival-level animal. In the immortal words of my sainted Aunt Cynthia, I gave the Mystic Manager a piece of my mind, and had that manager been present, I would have given him/her a punch in the mystical nose.
You may be shocked by my admission. No doubt you think of me as one of the most delightful people you’ve ever met. You remember me as one who remained quiet and reserved in the company of others; one who listened and spoke only when spoken to.
Genome, you say to yourself, what has happened to you?
No doubt, my violent reaction was due as much to the encouragement of Princess Amy as it was to the perceived affront. But since I want to never mislead my public, I must disclose the full list of those who have mentored me in the art of self-defense.
My early childhood role models are these--Donald Duck, the Tasmanian Devil, Yosemite Sam, and the Red Queen from Alice. If you're among the privileged to remember their reactions to the slings and arrows of life on life's terms, then you will understand my behavior.
And so, without apology nor rationalization, I leave you to make of it what you will. Fierce Qigong!