November 29th, 2005

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Good Morning Rain!

I wake this morning, and feel almost normal. Wow!! Only that odd achiness in my head that feels like a boat rubbling against a dock without its bumpers out still pounds that upper left side, but there is no nausea. Yay!!

I receive a group email from Elaine who had brain surgery on November 8th.

She includes these words which I share with you.

"But as I have said before, we are all going to die, and it would be great to live with open hearts without having to have a life-threatening illness. It would be great to ask for what you need without having a brain tumor! It would be great to receive love with gratitude and an open heart, instead of saying "no thanks, I can do it myself.""

I ponder these words. Why do we try so hard to do it ourselves? I remember when my son Jeff was two and he would proclaim over and over again, "Do it by unself." I was told it was good he was asserting his own independence from me, and I accepted it as so. Teenagers do it too. Otherwise, we might never let them go.

So, how to balance this need to individuate with this circle of giving and receiving. Oh, maybe it is easy. We just hold hands in a ring and feel ourselves glow.

Glowing is with me this morning. Elaine sent pictures. Despite having the back of her head opened and closed, she is glowing, absolutely glowing. It is amazing. She knows how to hold hands in a circle that flows, as do we all.

Feel that flow today, that glow activating us all. Radiate out, for we are the suns today in this wonderful day of Bay area rain. How cleansed I feel as I glisten in the sound of fall.
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(no subject)

I was considering these words today from a book by David Bayles and Ted Orland called "Art and Fear."
 
    The function of the overwhelming majority of your artwork is simply to teach you how to make the small fraction of your artwork that soars.
   
    One of the basic and most difficult lessons every artist must learn is that even the failed pieces are essential.


I was thinking about that in terms of our lives, of how much is hidden, root, unseen.

These words came.

we don’t see the roots of the stars
only the light
as it leans to beam
the candle
stems
within

 

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Jane's poem of the morning -

The house is empty now


wrapped in deep darkness of winter daybreak.
The rain settles in on the grasses
and the iris that were taunted into sprouting
by a temperate autumn.

Night dreams linger ­
the lost dog and the house come loose ­
meeting the new day within the shadow
of a long dawn.

Morning greets its facing partner too
in a tentative embrace
the place between it and the leaving night
as much of mystery as we will know

before our feet abandon earth.


by Jane Flint



My response:

My eye sees the iris today
because of your poem
and the blue and white
wrap round and round
enclosing us both -
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Love!

This comes from Petra in Germany today.

"I read a beautiful poem by Erich Fried, which I'm trying to translate for you - it's about my favourite theme "love"."


It is nonsense,
says the brain.
It is what it is,
says love.
It is misfortune,
says expedience.
It is nothing but pain,
says fear.
It is hopeless,
says intelligence.
It is what it is,
says love.
It is ridiculous,
says pride.
It is careless,
says caution.
It is impossible,
says experience.

It is what it is,
says love.


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Poem by Li-Young Lee

From Blossoms

From blossoms comes
this brown paper bag of peaches
we bought from the joy
at the bend in the road where we turned toward
signs painted Peaches.

From laden boughs, from hands,
from sweet fellowship in the bins,
comes nectar at the roadside, succulent
peaches we devour, dusty skin and all,
comes the familiar dust of summer, dust we eat.

O, to take what we love inside,
to carry within us an orchard, to eat
not only the skin, but the shade,
not only the sugar, but the days, to hold
the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into
the round jubilance of peach.

There are days we live
as if death were nowhere
in the background; from joy
to joy to joy, from wing to wing,
from blossom to blossom to
impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.

- Li-Young Lee
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Holiday Thoughts!!

I thought I was well enough to face the shopping mall today. I was wrong. The noise, strident colors, and lack of true care were shocking to me. I've been living in a different world.

I came home and sent an email to those with whom I will share the holiday. I requested that all this month when they think of going Christmas shopping for me, instead they go for a walk or pause in nature, or just sit and reflect. I plan to do the same. At first, I was thinking that was enough, and it may be, but, then, I thought, what if they took note of that moment, or moments, and wrote it on a slip of paper. I have a glass bowl that was my grandmother's and I am thinking we could fill that bowl with slips of wonderful moments of this month of December, anonymous moments, and, then, on Christmas Eve open the slips rather than presents, and read them aloud.

I suggest it to you, perhaps including moments of kindness you observe, receive or do.

If anyone would like to send slips of paper for our bowl, that would be lovely, or create your own. No matter what, we are all sharing one beautifully, delightful, shimmering, glimmering bowl, and it is alight with Love! Simmer now deep peace and ease, like the trees.
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Disappointment!

The purpose of this blog is to be honest with myself about my journey. That means documenting the highs and lows and inbetweens. Today, I visited the oncologist. My white blood cell count is "very, very low." If it isn't up by Friday, I can't have chemo on Monday. I guess I thought I could do this myself, but I would like to ask you all to visualize my white blood cells multiplying like crazy and partying and knocking the "bad guys" out of the ring. Actually, you can visualize however you want, but I struggle with that I think I am well, so I don't like bothering everyone on the prayer and visualization thing, and then, learning that I am not as well as I seem to feel. I wanted an excellent report. I wanted white blood cells all over the place. I am disappointed, to have to once again admit that I am mortal and I need some help.

White blood cells, Ho!

Thank you,
cathy