Shangri-La

In Canada, this weekend constitutes the unofficial start of summer. At the Jorgenson house, that comes with work in the yard: planting, mulching, moving soil and so forth. This year was momentous in that we ended up moving Bur Oak, started as a slip of a thing so many years ago, but now taller than me. We were both a bit anxious about how it would survive the trip of some 10 metres into a part of the garden giving it a bit more room to grow. But it seems quite happy. I have been checking in on it regularly, and the signs are all positive. It seems to be strutting in its new locale

Our gardening adventures this spring have been somewhat refashioned by my broken elbow. I am not utterly useless, but Gwenanne has definitely taken on the lions share of the work. I am able to cook her meals, and move a few less weighty things about. We hired a teenager from two houses over to turn some soil for us and dig the hole for Bur Oak. He was a delight to have around.

Yesterday Gwenanne moved dirt with our new wheelbarrow, and I was able to haul about a bit of mulch using smallish buckets. I haven’t really done much physical labour for a time, and I quite enjoyed it. It is a rich experience to feel your body find the rhythms that accompany a repeated task. I also love the satisfaction of doing work where an end is achievable and then achieved. So much of my day-to-day work is like walking toward an ever-receding horizon. I realize that I can be a bit romantic about physical labour, and these next day muscle cramps remind me that bodies take a toll for people who labour for a living. But still, physical work reminds me that we can’t take our bodies for granted, a lesson that is a bit of leitmotif for me these days.

I sometimes sit in our yard and feel a need to pinch myself. With so many people struggling to find adequate housing, I feel like we live in a bit of a Shangri-La. Cardinals, blue jays, and robins enamour me with their song, flight, and delightful doings. Squirrels and chipmunks amuse me with their play and playful work. The trees around us simply take my breath away, and last night after supper I watched the moon for a time. I felt as if it were talking to me, reminding me how blest I am.

I suppose life consists of two signal tasks: to be grateful for what you have and to be vigilant for what others need. I have been thinking much of home these days, with the unconscionable situation of so many people forced to pay ridiculous amounts of money for substandard and/ or dangerous housing. I feel my blood boil when I think about people facing renoviction and/or obscene rent increases. Everyone deserves safe and affordable housing. The other day I tried to imagine a world where there was a radical leveling of injustices the world round, and wondered what my life would look like. What kind of a home would I have, how much would I travel, what would I be paid? It is sobering.

Be grateful for what you have, and vigilant for what others need: two sides of the same coin.