Thursday, June 28, 2012

Cowboys and Hippies, Brothers and Sisters

It makes me cry.  Every.  Time.  I am grateful I get to ride horses.  I am grateful for my wonderful, beautiful family.  I looked up Tuesday at a perfectly deep blue midsummer sky and was so grateful. 

"There are, it may be, so many voices in this world and none of them without signification."  That's in the Bible.  Corinthians 14, just after the love chapter.  The universe, the Gods, our true selves, Great Mysteriousness speaks to each of us differently, I think -- however it is we can hear it.

When the truck broke down, I heard the universe:  it said, "Don't get the calf."  Strangely enough, it said the same thing to the husband.  We'd decided before we even got home from the initial breakdown that no matter what, we weren't going to get that particular calf.  Alrighty then.

I was at the very top of a hill when I heard a loud BANG and the truck felt like it had blown a tire.  I knew it was bad.  A man who had been behind me stopped at the next wide place in the road and walked back to where I was.  What's wrong? he asked.  I don't know yet, I said.  It was the same thing I'd told my husband on the phone.  Hi, the truck is broke but I don't know what is wrong yet.  It irritated my husband.

So this man, this good ole boy (who has a brand new 3 month old infant son at home) and eventually this man's good ole boy father, stopped to try to help me.  He helped me get it further off the road.  He stayed there until my husband got there.  He helped trouble shoot it.  They were willing to do anything, bless their hearts but I finally said, hey guys, it is dark, let's not get hurt, we can do this tomorrow, thanks for everything. 

What had happened was that I'd lost, as in broken, as in snapped off, all five lug nuts/studs.  Sheared.  Like a sheep.  Ah but.  But the hub or whatever that thing is in there, the brake drum, had dropped dead into wheel rim and stayed there, even in moving the vehicle a hundred feet.  Except for the rim, the nuts and the studs, nothing was damaged.

How freaking miraculous is that?  What sorts of spirits and haints and things that go bump in the night were watching out for me, balancing that in that way, keeping it there, making sure I was at the top of the hill when it broke so I could mostly drift down to get off the road, so many things.

Of course, the truck was full of manure so the jacks wouldn't work on it.  We'd either have to empty the manure (we were at a good spot to fling it over the hill), or find a heavy duty jack.  Just so happened that I knew where one was and wasn't too proud to ask if I could use it.

And thereby came the ultimate cowboy.  Who has a farm.  Who has lots of practical equipment.  Who I just happened to know had a heavy duty jack because it was laying beside the hay wagon that was getting a new deck.  No question, he let us borrow not only that jack but a high lift jack too, just in case it would make whatever process we ended up in easier.  In fact, he ran us down to have us borrow the high lift.  While we were stealing his jewel weed even.

We'd listened to the universe about not getting the calf and everything else was easy.  We had what we needed, it jacked up easily, even with the truck jacked up that tire just sat there until husband flipped it out of the wheel well.  The studs came out.  The truck didn't move a millimeter when we had to put it into neutral to rotate the hub around to get the studs out, then back in.  The parts store even had the studs.  We did have to go to several parts stores to get the nuts but that's because people want the fancy nuts and that's just vanity.  But in the end, we came up with six nuts in the whole of that side of town (3 parts stores).  We only had to have five.

We took time out for a date with sushi in the park.

So it was the heat of the afternoon when we got back to the truck and the sun was burning down.  The studs went in, then it is a process to seat them.  I was of no help in this process and went to sit in the shade.  I sat like Buddha.  I knew a Rainbow would come by.  I just knew.

And then I heard the car, put-putting up the hill.  They looked over as they went by, just dirty hippies in an old car.  They couldn't see my husband behind the truck.  I heard them go past, slow down.  I heard their tires on the gravel of the turnaround that is on that side of the highway.  I laughed.  I said to husband, here comes help.  I don't need any help, he said.  You are gonna have it, I said.  I heard the car pull back out and then it was where we were.  And I was smiling and they got out and said, and I quote, "Looks like some family needs some help."

We'd been planning on stopping by the Rainbow Gathering that is happening this year mere miles from where we live.  When they say, "Welcome Home," well, we really are home.  But I do worry about things.  I worry about being harassed by law enforcement for one.  And I worried a little about obviously not being rainbow myself.  Being conventional.  I'm used to being ostracized from the "cool kids", from high school or from the homeschool group, for not quite being hip enough, not quite being cool.  And here these people, these two young men, these two dirty hippies, recognized us for who we really are.

I think it is that part that really brings the tears to my eyes.  It happens when I try to talk about what riding and horses mean to me.  It happens when I try to talk about what my family means to me.  And these mountains.  And it happens in those moments when I witness or participate in pure goodness amongst people.  That last one is rare but it does happen.  I hope I participate in some of it.  I don't know but I hope.

So the two dirty hippies said, "Brother, stand up and let us finish up this job for you."  And they did!  At least the one knew absolutely what he was doing, and the other was busy learning, and we talked about living in the mountains and the gathering and what they might need us to bring and about pocket trades and I gave them the two sodas I had in the truck and they asked how far it was to town.  And then there, before you knew it, we were driving off in our different directions.

And I came home with my heart full.

I grew up around people who called each other "brother" and "sister" if they went to the same church.  I didn't go to one of those churches.  And I'm not particularly close to my brothers.  And there are people, like Hunter at work for example, who I am sorry, are NOT my brothers, who I have no kinship with, who are just like the racoon that was trying to feed its babies our baby chicks -- it is fine if they live somewhere else but, ummm, no to that messing with me bit.  Because it is never the right thing to do to allow someone to abuse you.

But would that we could call each other brother and sister and mean it (and not as a term of exclusion, like the cool girls or the churches do).  Would that I could see God/dess in everyone as easily as I did in those two dirty hippies, that cowboy, those two good ole boys. Would that the veils of illusions of Babylon were not so tightly drawn down.

Live differently; rip the veil.  And listen to the universe when it speaks to you.


Wendy said...

I love those moments when I witness divinity - especially when it sneaks up on me :). It's truly a gift, and it leaves me smiling and humming for days.

Mr. H. said...

I was wondering how you use the jewel weed, I know it is good for poison ivy and bug there anything else you use it for? We have quite a bit of it growing around here but I have never really done much with it other than watching the grandson laugh as the seeds shoot out of the pods.:)

CG said...

Harvest it when you feel like it (you'll know, and it will depend). We mostly use it fresh but will put some in the freezer, either just freezing some stalks in baggies, or pureeing the plant up and freezing it in ice cube trays and then keeping those in plastic bags in the freezer. Because jewel weed is almost always available when you need it, we don't tend to keep it frozen anymore. I do keep aloe in the house, fresh, all the time. Jewel weed can be used for mostly any dermatitis sort of thing but mostly we use it for poison ivy as those two plants seem to have a very particular relationship.

jules said...

I remember probably 15 years ago or so, we were staying at Cheaha State Park, and I saw the flyers for the Rainbow gathering. I so wanted to go.

This brought a smile to my face. I do believe there are still good people in this world. Thanks for the confirmation.