Meditations for Queer Femmes – This Little, Tiny House

This morning, Tex and I woke up to some very loud and strident bird calls. She thought it was warblers, because our apple trees are in bloom and it’s warbler season, but no! It was a pair of house wrens, inspecting and finding good the bird house Tex had put up weeks and weeks ago. They took turns perching on top and yelling, “This is ours!” They tidied up inside, rejecting the wood chips Tex had put down. They flitted about yelling, “We’re moving into this neighborhood, everybody!” It was so wonderful! Then Tex went off to count herring, as she’s been doing every Monday morning this season (they have a fish ladder over the dam), and I went off to meet up with a young friend and former member of the homeschoolers QSA. Who showed up with her cat in a basket and lots of news about her decision to run for public office in her hometown (which is right next to where I live).

That’s a lot of gorgeous before lunch.

Yesterday I was in one of my regularly occurring funks. Comparing and despairing, about my writing, my life, my health, my abilities, my parenting … It’s a habit I acquired early on, this bathing in negativity, and it can still take me over here and again, despite my naturally sunny nature and all the tools I’ve gathered over the years to help me with serenity and equanimity. It was a beautiful day and I had a good book. That and cooking a lovely Sunday dinner with Tex took me right through until it was time to go to bed. And I woke up in a different space, ready to face the excitement of house wrens and young friends.

Who help me remember that right here, right in this little tiny house that is my life, there is so much depth and detail. In his obituary, I learned that a dear teacher and his dear friend used to say to each other, “Right here as it is. Right now as it is.” I love that, that way of remembering to wrench your wandering gaze from the past, the present, the over there, out there, next time and on and on, to gaze gratefully at what’s surrounding and holding you, all the infinite of this very moment. Such a gift, but so easy to overlook.

Is it a forsythia bush? A weeping cherry? An old old apple tree in bloom, inherited from the people who built your house in the same year your father was born? Two loud and busy house wrens moving into their own new digs? The smile and interesting news of a friend, the fun of her cat taking a ride in a basket, little kids playing in the playground near where we sat… These are just a few of mine from the last few hours, and I know, my determined and big-hearted queer femme treasures, that you have your own. May you revel and glory in them! Not constantly, because we all have our sinking spells and our busy times, but may you come back to them more and more often. May you come back to them now!

At the Total Femme, my intention is to post three times a week: Meditations for Queer Femmes on Monday, Pingy-Dingy Wednesday on Wednesday, and Femme Friday on Friday. Rather than play catch-up in a stressful fashion on those weeks when life prevents posting, I have decided to just move gaily forward: if I miss a Monday, the next post will be on Wednesday, and so on. Thank you, little bottle of antibiotics for inspiring me in this! (“…if it’s almost time for the next dose, skip the missed dose and continue your regular dosing schedule. Don’t take a double dose to make up for a missed one.”) And…as I go through graduate school and life life life, I will post as I am able, Mabel.