April 11th, 2006

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Good Morning!

My little bird friend is singing away this morning. I read somewhere that bird song opens the leaves in spring, and I believe it as this little guy sings. I feel myself opening up and out, wanting to see where he is and to provide lunch, a nest, a perch. One year a Scrub Jay came into my home and took tiny, shiny Easter eggs from a little basket sitting on the wall system. He left watermelon seeds in return. It seemed like a fair exchange.

I feel so much better today. Something released yesterday. I was carrying a heaviness of expectation,and I let that go, and slept well and long last night, and now, I feel sort of a grounded chipper. I suppose I am a quail today. What bird are you right now? Ah, now a bit of the hawk rolls in.

Mandu is very clear that he is a predator, and a horse is a prey animal, and therefore, he is superior, but we do need both. Quail feed protein to their young, and then, they are vegetarians as adults. I think today, I am both, predator and prey, vegetarian and meat-eater. I honor all my sides.

It is gray and drizzly today, and there is increasing light. I feel quite springy. Exuberance and joy are popping all about like bunnies, and certainly the fields are filled with eggs. Happy coloring of your day!!
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A Silly Story!!

I remember now that years ago I wrote a silly story for children at Easter. I place it here. Remember you were warned.


                A Hair Full

 
    I have a problem.  Birds are laying eggs in my hair.  I woke this morning and there were eggs in my hair.  Birds must think my hair is a nest, but my hair is not a nest.  It may be a mess, but it most certainly is not a nest. 

    I decide to talk to a tree to understand why  birds are choosing me.  At first, the tree I choose is silent.   Then it asks if I like to hum.  “Yes, I do like to hum.”

     “My experience,” said the tree, “is that birds lay their eggs where there is a most pleasant hum.  Look at me, for example.  I like to hum.”  I look.  The tree is covered with nests, and those nests are filled with eggs.  There is a pleasant hum. 

      I think about humming.  I love to hum, and I love to stand with my arms spread wide.  Of course, I also love to run, spin, somersault, and cartwheel.   Only sometimes do I look and sound like a tree.  Perhaps those sometimes are enough. But where are the nests then?  Am I a nest or am I a tree?  How am I perceived?

     My friend Totem walks up, and looks at the eggs in my hair.  “Why are you sprouting eggs in your hair?”

     “I’m not sprouting eggs in my hair,” I say.  “Birds are laying eggs in my hair.” 

    “Ah,” he says.  “I see.”  But what does he see?   As he walks off, he adds, “Some snakes lay eggs, and turtles do, too.”

    Snakes lay eggs?  And, turtles too?   Does my hair look like a mass of reeds, a head of grass? 

     Humming,  I walk to the lake.  I watch the ducks, and hum.  Am I  heard?  Seen? 

     I am watching carefully now.  Am I also watched, and  carefully?

     I touch the eggs in my hair.  Do I hear humming within?   Are they bird, snake, or turtle hums?  

     My friend Sue walks up.  “Why are there eggs in your hair?” she asks.  “Did lizards lay them there?”   Lizards! This is too much.  I thought my problem was birds laying eggs in my hair, but now, it turns out it might be snakes, turtles, lizards.  What is going on?  Meanwhile, Sue sets up her telescope, and waits for the moon to rise.

      I shake my head, wanting to shake this whole problem out of my hair, but the eggs are stuck.  They are stuck like stickers,  thistles,  tape.   Tape?

      I take one egg and pull.  The egg comes off, and stuck to the egg is tape.  That egg was taped to my hair.  Who would tape eggs to my hair? 

      Then, I remember.  The day before I had seen a plastic rabbit filled with candy eggs.  I had said I wanted a “Hare, Full of Eggs.”

      My friend Sam walks by with a tape dispenser. He is humming too.  Spring  is in the air.



Have fun today, whether or not you have hair or a hare.  Know eggs are springing everywhere.  

 

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Speaking of hair -

My hair is growing back in. At first it was a peach fuzz, and now, it is a little more, though it doesn't really show up, because it is so light. Still, I can feel it, and I can see it in certain light, and I am starting to feel a little warmer, so I think it is doing its job, or maybe it actually is getting warmer. I just heard it was 80 degrees in Des Moines yesterday. Does it seem like there is something wrong with this picture? I am again dressed in a warm, cuddly turtleneck and will wear a jacket out in the wet. Pretty funny, it is.

I wish I could send you all pastel Easter eggs, but instead you will have to envision them in your heads. Happy not so many days until Easter. Today, is treatment 8 for me. Only 25 to go after today. Have fun in the waves. Alberto Rios talks about hills as slow waves, so I am having fun envisioning all the waves in which I live. Sometimes they glide and sometimes they collide, but they are always fun to ride.
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checking in -

Well, today, was an easy flow. They had to take pictures again, but all zipped along, and Francine mixed up her order of patients, so I didn't even have to wait long to see her. It was funny, though, because knowing all was well with me, I figured I could speed her along her way, but she became interested in my Easter Dinner, and so we are both having Honey Baked Ham from Cost-Co, with a sweet Parkerhouse or Hawaiian rolls, and Mendocino hot and sweet mustard. She is a kick. She is thrilled that I see radiation as a side-line in my life, and not my life. Also, because the infection in my breast is finally healed, my breast looks less pink with the radiation than before. It will get pinker, but, at least, it won't be the worst case she has seen, so she is thrilled about that. She was worried about the fairness of my skin, but I am generous with the lanolin, so am doing okay so far. Yay!! The rain continues to offer itself to us. All continues green, wet, and gray.
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The rain massages the ears -

I am moving gratefully through the day, and accomplishing little things. One thing I note today is the Two Cents question which asks people if they are still okay with having voted for Bush. Amazingly, they found some people who are, and who make inane, to me, comments about why they are okay with Bush. I am struggling to not be judgmental about their comments. I have been reading William Stafford, who was the kindest of people, and a conscientious objector during WWII, and always willing to see all sides, and the different ways the wind blows, so, I am sitting with that. How do I calm the pulse of the sea in me, and allow the center to hold?