December 10th, 2005

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Checking in -

Cat Mandu is sitting here with me, honoring the check-in. He places his warm, furry self as close to me as he can. He knows when I am weak, and need his help. He is purring, and watching the cursor cross the screen.

I have not been feeling well the last few days, so have been resting a bit. Some of you know I have a beautiful Japanese garden. I lie in bed, and look out, entranced with the beauty of it. I love my garden, and the man who created it for me, Mr. Fuji, a truly honorable man and wonderful human being. He special ordered from Japan our Christmas gift this year, a beautiful lacquered letter box. I have not yet decided what to place in it, thinking perhaps I will leave it empty, for who knows, what comes next.

A dear friend of mine thinks I come off a bit "saintly" on the blog. I have informed her that fatigue is not saintly. I don't have the energy to complain, or do anything but surrender. It occurred to me yesterday that it is not even two months since the surgery. I think I may have been in shock these last few months; I may still be in shock. I'm not quite clear what has happened. I look in the mirror and don't know what to think. I don't think. I just look. My eyes are wide, absorbing. They seem huge to me, without the distracting maze of hair.

I keep thinking of the Tibetan sand paintings. This is about surrender and non-attachment. I have no choice, and I assure you that any appearance of saintliness is only extreme fatigue.

I love you all! That is the stable in this, the stable, the manger, the star, the hope, the guide.

Thank you for your love and care!!

May we all be well, and we are!!

love from Cat Mandu and me
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Thoughts -

Annie Dillard -

     How we spend our days, is, of course, how we spend our lives.

 

 

Grace
 

Fatigue
lays emotion
down by the river,
like round, smooth stones,
forming a pond.
So easy, then, to bathe,
in the tranquil liquid,
of love,
safe in the reeds,
and the quacking
motion of air,
as it ducks.

 

 

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Poem Alert! : )

 

Living in the Pause


I lean to rest now,
needing every post I pass,
each bench, each stone.
I pause for the egret
on the hill
stalking mice,
and the bobcat
who stumbles toward me,
a baby,  with huge paws,
and spots.
I motion, “Leave the path,”
and he tumbles into a culvert
by the side of the road.
I pause for his mother
on the hunt,
knowing her kitten is safe
at
Tennessee Valley,
where the land
is safe,
and the animals and plants,
allow us
to lean
into wisdom,
as we walk, like grace,
through their space.