Our December snow blanket protected my root crops for over a month. A few days ago I finally managed to dig some up. Dinner last night included crummy carrots and perky parsnips.
"I fed carrot peels to the chickens," Karen said this morning.
Think apples. "Carrot peels?" I said, "Where did you get them?"
"From dinner last night," she said.
Think apples. "We didn't have carrots for dinner last night," I said.
"Yes we did, with parsnips and cabbage," she said.
Light bulb. "I thought you said apple peels."
It's not an age thing. It's -- well -- I suppose it's what Tolle says in A New Earth -- not listening to the "now."
A few years ago, when I was an arrogant twenty-something, I assumed everyone saw things the same as I did. I'm not talking worldview or viewpoint. I knew people had different opinions. I'm also not talking about inattention. I realized that people who witnessed an event remembered it differently and often inaccurately. Nevertheless, in general, I thought everyone, unless disabled in some way, actually saw, heard, smelled, sensed the same objective experience. Something cold was cold. Green was green. Wet was wet. A middle "C" was a middle "C."
Then one day I was put on hold. Music began to play. While I waited, I switched the telephone receiver to the other ear. I returned it to the first ear, then to the other, again and again. Weird. Each time the music moved up or down a half-step in pitch. To this day, I don't know if it's my ear or my brain. But a "C" isn't always a "C."
"Was it an epiphany?" says Virginia. She's teasing me.
"No, but gradually I've lost confidence in what is real. I may still be arrogant, but I'm interested in what others think happens."
"Especially when they see ghosts?" It's Virginia again.
Especially when they see ghosts.
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The Bowman Women; A Work In Progress
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