Orchids in January

I'm struggling with the new year, this 2015. The world seems so frightening and out of control - and I don't know what to do. All that (overwhelming) advice on how I should improve myself, my life, my living space, the causes I should join, support or champion, what I should believe. It's exhausting. So this morning a midst the paperwork unfiled and laundry unfolded, walls unpainted, dishes undone, contribution checks unwritten or food not yet delivered to the food bank, and my third cup of coffee, I'm inspired by these tiny flowers. 

All year long I look forward to this moment. I feed and nurture this little orchid, watch 
it's leaves come and go, in hopes that in January when it's cold and gray, this little bit of wonder will grace my window. Welcome 2015!

I have no idea what type of orchid this is. I bought it (sans flowers) at an Orchid show ten years ago. The little pot was overflowing with leaves; stiff, unyielding, in many shades of brown and green. It was warm, humid inside the gallery and smelled like the damp earth from a much anticipated spring - I couldn't resist just a little something. I'd have done in a more expensive, showy plant long before now. I think the guy said it should bloom for 4 or 5 years, more if I'm lucky. Soak the pot once a week for 30 minutes. Keep it out of direct sunlight, la, la, la. It lives in a sunny east facing window. I'm sure it gets too cold in the winter but it seems to love the sun and the constant flow of moisture from the kitchen sink. It doesn't seem to like soaking so I just water it here and there when it seems to want that. Sshhh...don't tell it that so much time has gone by, just in case. 

Every year though, it gives me this moment. The moment when I stop to appreciate that this one year will be different. This little orchid, still incredibly beautiful despite the amount it loses and gains in 360 something days. So, something from Robert Henri. From the "Art Spirit"...

  "Of course, if a man were to plump suddenly 
into the world with the gift of telling the actual truth and acting rightly, he (or she*)
would not fit into our uncertain state, he would certainly be very disturbing - and most
probably we would send him (or her*) to jail.
We haven't arrived yet, and it is foolish to believe that we have. The world is not done.
Evolution is not complete." 

- Robert Henri - 1865-1929

 (*I added this because, well  gender mattered to me here!)

Five things

One: "Waiting on tables isn't so bad." 

Picture it, a charming but meandering sort of soul, who lives in t-shirts and basketball shorts. Whose hair is never brushed but whose bed is always made. That very same soul in dress whites waiting tables at a Governor's Ball. Ya know they never send pictures of that. Trust me.

Attached to THAT! 

On the other hand...

Two: "Hanging off a mooring line is way better."

Your CHILD aka Grown ASS man, hanging off the side of a 120,000 ton ship from a string. Five stories above the dock. Mooring line in hand and waiting to drop, so that lines can be tied. A ship stays where it's at. Somehow it didn't occur to me that "in this day and age" such huge vessels would still rely on a few pieces of string. OK, really big string, but string none the less. Makes me dizzy just thinking about it.

Three: "I will never do dishes again." 

Hahahaha! Two weeks in the Galley aboard ship was enough. Yea, good luck with that.


Four: "They say, that next to water, there's only one thing
a seaman should never run out of - and everyone keeps a secret stash." 

Wait for it. You know what it is, don't you? Yep. Ketchup. Really? Yep. Hard to fathom that there's a whole world of meat eating, ketchup guzzling folks who work a 24 hour clock and keep a night kitchen. Ya know, you don't have to refrigerate ketchup. Sigh.

"We had a three star, Michelin Chef...Filet Mignon and Lobster Tails for Thanksgiving. He taught me how to put melted butter on my egg sandwiches." A stronger person than I would have asked if he'd enjoyed that with ketchup.

Heinz that is. No other will do, even in the night kitchen,   

Five: "I was thinking I could work 9 months of the year...
 and ski for the rest."

If there's an FAQ for a Merchant Marine it has to be, "how did you find that?" Out of college and trying to figure out what to do with himself, Bran decided to travel. He started looking for ways to travel on the cheap and discovered that some commercial vessels take on passengers. Not luxury, but it would get him there. At some point he started wondering about how he could work his way around the world. He spent the last four months aboard a bulk carrier moving coal and iron ore across the Great Lakes. There are seasons for vessels and cargo and Able Bodied Seamen (and women).

The truck is back in the driveway for a few weeks, but I don't have to do it by myself. It's January 3. I have no idea what this year will be but I hope you're optimistic, excited even for what it might bring. Maybe even hoping to ski for three months.

Happy New Year.