Nu comme le jour où je suis né

Month: May 2022 (Page 2 of 2)

World Naked Gardening Day 2022

WNGD May 2022

Today is my WNGD contribution. The forecast isn’t the best for Saturday, so I decided to turn the garden with my small tiller today. It was a six-hour task to turn the garden making sure that the mulch was well blended. A bit of the garden was still wet and will have to wait for a while. That part of the garden will be planted in potatoes so it isn’t as critical to till it according to my wife who plans what goes where in the garden. Of course, this isn’t my only naked gardening day. Typically, every day that I work in the garden is a naked gardening day.

We have been putting all of our potato and carrot peelings, apple cores, and all sorts of vegetable discards into the garden for many years. The soil likes the gift of mulch. Tilling the mulch in helps the mass breakdown much quicker that trying to use mulch structures that give garden-ready soil.

Most people we know don’t use their kitchen clippings for the garden. Some put it in special bins for some distant mulch production. Most just put it in the garbage. There is a curious distancing from the “garbage.” It is better and more psychologically acceptable to buy chemical fertilizer. It somehow feels “cleaner” for them. I accept that they have their own ways with their own rationale. I am not into trying to control others and make judgements. For me it is all about living what I believe is right for me. And in the garden, that means homemade compost mulch. And in terms of clothing, it means gardening nude.

How do you garden? Do you garden?

Music and the Naked Soul

Lanie and her guitar by John Duder

I discovered playing music when I was thirteen, at least that’s the story I tell myself because that is when I got my first guitar. Music became everything to me. It anchored me as I desperately navigated the minefield of a teenager’s quest for self-discovery. Music carried me through my high school years. Being different didn’t matter as much as long as I was playing music. I was expected to be different, to be a rebel. Music helped me navigate an existential crisis that could easily have ended this version of my life, leaving me to hope that I would return to life under better circumstances. As I experienced it, this iteration of existence had nothing to redeem it other than music.

Lanie’s soul unleashed

Of course, I am not alone in finding music to be an anchor in a sea of apparent insanity. I can’t speak for the experiences of others, that is their task. However, I do know that music is a life jacket. I am fortunate that Lanie has allowed me to use one of her images to illustrate this post. I have seen images of Lanie with her guitar a number of times over the years, as I have seen images of Emma with her violin and her piano, and of Joy with her guitar.

Music acts as a bridge to a deeper aspect of oneself. There is a thin veil between our conscious world and the shadowy depths where our creativity finds nourishment, the seat of the Muse that artists of every stripe tap into. That muse is one’s soul.

Music speaks to me and I speak through my music. I find my moments of joy transformed into sound, as well as moments of sadness. The music I play for my young grandchildren sounds and feels different than the music I have played for memorials. The most powerful song I can remember playing was “Go Rest High on that Mountain” by Vince Gill. The song made the suicide death of one of my brothers bearable. And of course, there are the love songs.

I wonder if musicians play these songs of romance as much to themselves as they do to their significant others. I know that I sometimes play to the a mythical “other” as though it was a powerful meditation of healing for all those in need of love.

Today, I almost don’t play at all. My left hand that would have played the notes and the chords has become injured and tends to seize up. Despite that, music still rolls though my soul. Perhaps it is my soul.

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