A Good Day to Die 10/14/08

I've been in downtime these days, keeping busy, but not with anything taxing. I needed more vacation than I got, and now slow seems a good way to go for as long as I can eke it out. So rather than think about work I have to do, I have spent today waiting quietly for dinner inspiration. Salade Nicoise was what emerged from the green beans and fingerling potatoes, dragon tongue beans and red-tinged romaine that were part of my more-than-we-can-eat haul from the farmer's market, my main occupation yesterday. I think more and more all the time that these small pleasures are at the heart of what is most deeply meaningful about life. I teach in the realm of ideas, but honestly, right not, and maybe because I am so tired, ideas seem more like soap bubbles -- beautiful, diverting, but not there for the long haul. That might make me a bad academic, unless I can come up with an idea justifying my current lack of interest in ideas. I say phenomenology, and I say phooey.

I'd rather take a walk and see what's out and about. My dog Cassie is always a great role model for taking the most sensual pleasure from every situation. She loves days like today, sunny with a brisk wind, and sits in the middle of the field bathed in wind, which looks like being washed with music or lovely scenery. She would sit all day if I would stay with her, being petted and sniffing the air. The ticks are active, but I've decided not to worry in favor of these moments in the goldenrod with the last few yellow butterflies. Who knows how long life will last, especially for Cassie, whose platelets have vanished. The vet can't figure out why she seems to feel pretty good.

I keep thinking of the Native American prayer, "It's a good day to die." I want all my days to be that, and all of Cassie's, too, so we took her to Rutland to Art in the Park, where I was set up. She had a whole day of being cooed over and petted by every dog lover who passed by, and she encouraged them by laying with her nose right at the edge of the tent space, right next to where people would step up to see the jewelry. It was a good day.

This is a good day for me, too, with no student work hanging fire, and a beautiful salad to prepare for dinner. Cassie can have her raw dogfood and cadge tuna or cheese from dinner. It's all good, complete, perfect, and without the energy to worry, I can, perhaps, enjoy this small respite from the busyness that is inevitable. But not today -- today, slowly, and it is so beautiful that I could see how it is a good day to die, just here in this peace with nothing to accomplish or prove, sniffing the air, full to the brim.