Sample on “Greenhouses”
This is the Book I wrote about Superheroes in Greenhouses
The work of life is never done, is it? Aw well, the “rodeo clowns” hoopla at the fire pit in Denver. Wow. A transition HAS been made. “Oh yeah, right here, Oh yeah right now…” I came home. What is now? I guess it’s the weekend. Do I know it is? I suppose I do. I feel like I am twenty again. The chapters previous are unimportant at this moment… or any moment. Because we are meant to be in this moment. The moment that you read this, the moments it took to type it, think it. So, we are somehow encapsulated by time in this existence. The funny parts, beautiful artworks of time and people, faces and spaces that we create in our lives are only captured in now.
So they say. I think after living in Boulder for a year and becoming a little more tied to my spiritual roots that it could just be true. However, my spirit always is lounging in a place that is a little less-lofty, a tad more attached to the outside world, and definitely someone is making homemade corn tortillas over a wood-burning stove. The “Rattle and Hum” (U2, 1988) of the world buzzes around this place, and it is filled with serendipity and lots of different and new energy. I am calling it “The Greenhouse” because I still feel raw, like a seed that just split its sides and emerged into the soil and the sky. I do not know what is going to happen next. Will the atmosphere spew out huge chunks of ice that crush me? Will someone trample on me and nix any possibility of me bringing forth fruit and providing oxygen to the Earth? I do not know.
The world is full of anxiety, half-eaten bananas, hacked-open coconuts, and uncooked meat. But is also filled with treasure. We never know what box we are opening. Does it contain a pair of socks or the keys to a new car? That question always remains unanswered, even once the box is open. The fortuitous nature of the universe is such that we may never know.
I titled this novel, “The Book I wrote about Superheroes” because I know a few. There are some women and men that I know that are stellar rock stars. These people deserve some major props. Maybe they are not in-contact with me anymore or maybe they are. Some are assholes. Some do not have a mean bone in their body. Some have used me, even abused me. Some are “saintly”. Often, likely I have not liked most of these people, or I have felt that I did not want them in my life. However, in the end- we are ALL human. And so we make mistakes and are NOT out of a superhero comic book. These are the people I write this book about.
The “greenhouse” is a place where we all heal. It is a place that you get in-touch with your “inner-Boulder” or your space of human-wisdom. It never gets you to becoming a Yogi, the Pope, Dalia Lama, or some other spiritual being of your choosing. It is a place that tests your human ability to exist on this planet with all of the other people that share the space with you. Is it easy? NO. It is fucking hard. It sucks and we all just have to tolerate most of what goes on around us. Can it be simple? Sure. But the older you get, the harder simple becomes. The greenhouse is a place where we rest. It is where we ground and attach again through our roots.
In the greenhouse, we learn that the people who cause or caused us pain and misery cannot be a part of our lives or at least they do not play a major role in our lives anymore. We learn to hold high the memories of laughter and burn the ones that did not to ashes. So then happy memories become our seeds for new beginnings and our strength for hope in the future. We detach from the pain by releasing it, sometimes with a lot of resistance. We are not sure why we hold onto those so hard.