These days begin early, pass quickly, end when the sun is gone.
We move from strategy session to our intersecting orbits around home base, and mulch gets spread, and ditches get dug, and flowers get planted, and tasks disappear from our corporate checklist in the cloud.
Sunrise (literally) finds me on my knees in the cactus garden burying drip irritation for the moss roses.
By 10:00 I've moved on to a sunny spot in the lawn, me surrounded by bags of irrigation parts for the Anniversary Garden
At noon, it's in the office with me. Answering the emails from early risers in Europe. By 2:00 I'm in full swing with the laundry room all torn apart, sanding and finishing cabinets. By 5:00 I'm back in the office, for more emails, more ProTools, more design concepts for the next album cover...
By 9:00 I'm exhausted.
But I'm learning something...
I've been learning slowly over days blurring together. Over knees in gravel, knees in mulch, knees in grass wet from the morning's artificial dew...
Days ago, I grunted out animated passion with every striking of the pick to gravel.
"I. Don't. Just. Fight. For. Myself..."
Moments later, huge raindrops from a benign looking cloud drove me temporarily into the shed doorway, and I stood, arms folded, watching rain stream down.
And I realized:
Full days notwithstanding;
Long lists notwithstanding... Speaking engagements coming up, Europe travel coming up, design and replication deadlines coming up, the wedding coming up--
Whenever I pause, wherever I pause...
Wherever my knees touch the ground,
there is a sanctuary.