Windmills and Musings

"Last night, as I sat beside a fire, staring at a busted windmill, my first thought was..."It's fucked".

My second thought was, if a windmill were to represent my life, this would be the one. How tragic it must have been to lose its once free spinning spirt... just to sit idly by now, busted, broke and motionless, destined to one day fall completely apart.

Finally, It occurred to me... while it won't be easy, both could probably still be saved..."

~Photo credit and quote by a high school friend~

As I have shared in past posts, here the broken things find homes and new purpose.  My property, like most that have had humans inhabitants for a century and more, bears the scars of humans dumping and burying their garbage and "broken things" over many decades.  Mostly it's stuff like old rusted and disintegrating chicken wire, old carpet, and similar junk that I have spent the past 16 years carefully removing and properly disposing of.  I'm convinced that there are several complete vehicles buried in the surrounding woods, maybe a few bodies, and just a lot of complete garbage.  As I am digging it out though, I turn a lot of it into odd yard art because it all has a story to tell. And I love discovering those stories and histories--new items often lack soul and character--I like the pieces that have survived and bear scars.  Somehow over these 16 years at my home, as friends have been tossing out broken things, they find their way here, as well. Waterlogged bowling balls, angels with missing wings, broken arrows, ruined dolls, cracked statues--things destined for landfills have found new purpose here and give my yard an interesting flair.  I like these things the best because of their character, their uniqueness, their stories--they have so much more to say than something fresh from Walmart or Lowes.  Here, that busted windmill would be one of my favorites and a star of the show.   

My favorite people will always be the ones that have fought hard to survive and that are still fighting.  When I look at the people in my life, many of my favorites have the darkest pasts, the deepest scars, the hardest challenges faced.  The stories they share and have given me glimpses into are sometimes so immense that I wonder how they have survived, how they are still here, how they keep going, and then I thank god that they do.  They are my own inspiration to keep moving forward--to keep going no matter how overwhelming the darkness feels--when I see them I am reminded of how amazing human endurance truly is.  I have also lost many that just couldn't fight anymore and I carry the deep scars that they have left me with.  Their story is now part of my story and I wish beyond wishes that I could have them back instead--I know it isn't easy and that sometimes the weight is too heavy--but the pain of losing them never leaves, either.   And I have so many loved ones struggling right now that I am beyond worried about.  It's hard when our thoughts spiral in these challenging directions--that darkness would swallow us whole given half the chance.  I agree--it's beyond challenging to move from being that free spinning spirt to being busted, broken, and motionless.  In windmill terms, I think I may have about one blade left at the moment, but it's still catching the wind and moving when it can.  I just keep trying to clear out the vines that would tangle it and try to be mindful of fixing those cracks as I discover them...  I needed this message today and am beyond thankful that my friend allowed me to share what he wrote and his picture.  So many in my world need this message right now--perhaps you were one of them--if so, I hope that you, too, will find a new sense of purpose and reasons to keep moving forward.