The ancestor vision and the indirect life

[starry-eyed pirate]

I'm afraid that this indirect life is not working very well for me.  I have a deep sense of loss over the skills I have never been taught and could not make up for, at least to this point, on my own.  I feel my ancestors within me when I am digging in the Earth and rooting up the lilacs to transplant and making room for more squash and corn and beans.  I hold the diggin bar in one hand and a shovel rests against the crook in the lilac on it's own.  I squat down to reach into the earth I'm diggin to pull out this or that of my way, still with the diggin bar in hand ... and as I'm reaching down into the Earth I have a vision of myself as ageless and unnamed.  I am the man of the Earth, searchin to survive.  I hold the tools to live by in my hands and put my back to the world.  I am the savage, the beast reborn.  I carry fire and eat submissive-authoritarians when I can.

[starry-eyed pirate]

...And today it rained from the time before the dawn and I listened to it from my bed and knew there was a good chance I wouldn't have to drive out to my uncles and paint.  I decided to make soup instead of painting and used a good amount of home grown garden vegetables.  But the beans are taking forever to soften up and I have already eaten a full belly's worth in my hunger and impatience over the day.  Just now I stirred the soup and watched the trail of the wooden spoon go through it in a spiraling circular pattern.  I could feel the weight of the soup as it thickened on the spoon and I lost my sense of self  and my notion of time.  I forgot who I was or where and only saw a hand and a wooden spoon and a pot of soup heating ... and I remembered my ancestors and could feel all the demarcations of social time fly away.  Even in the modern world I can channel certain peculiar namelessnesses and know myself as only one of the latest incarnations of some ancient form of energy from some ancient God-forsaken star.