May 24th, 2006

Book Cover

Jane's Poem of Today!


Jane and I spoke of teachers this morning.  Mine have been the horses these last eight weeks.  Here is her tribute to a wonderful teacher of her experience.



The building is squat and old.
The chairs are mismatched.
For twenty years she has stood in this classroom.
Over the years she¹s added lamps.
Little else decorates the space.
Each one who chooses to enter.
She sustains and cares for.  
She excludes no one.
Book Cover

My Poem of Today -

           Thanks


                         To Jimbo, Mentors, and the Horses of Marin Stables

Why do I struggle to write on the horses,

    to say what they mean to me?

Do I not want to put the right brain

    in the reins of the left?

                And yet,

    this is about balance, and neutrality,

    raising our energy, and lowering it,

    responding to demand, and need.

        I feel desire there, trust.

I lost so much in this experience of cancer

and treatment -  absolutely every hair - gone.

                I was bare, naked.

My eyes felt huge, and hugeness is still there,

reinforced and reflected in horse eyes - horse heart.

    I feel secure as though I have four legs,

    and when I ride on the back of the horse,

            supported by lungs and sit bones,

                        guided by mine,

                          I feel aligned. 

                Horse time.

                        Words drop and splat,

                                    fertilize,

                                     the air. 

Book Cover

Gratitude -

It was suggested yesterday that each of us who participated in the horse program write a statement of what it has meant to us, not only to thank our dear friends, both human, and horse, but also, to convince the Marin Municipal Water District that this teeny-tiny precious place is a worthy occupant of the land.  I spent some time last night trying to write a letter, but, today, this comes.  Sometimes, when I am especially touched, I speak better in a poem, despite, in my last one, suggesting that words are shit, or, perhaps, manure.

Here is my poem of gratitude.
 

Gratitude to the Horse Program at Marin Stables

     A Gift for Cancer Survivors

 

 You put the physical back in my life,
    the physical heart, couer, courage.
 You handed me the reins of life, love, and fun.

 I bubble each time I leave.  I neigh,
    nay to pain, hurt, confusion, strain,
 nay to all that happened that I did not, could not,
           
and may never understand.

 You greet us each Friday with huge smiles
     encompassed in a canyon
             bound with ferns.

 We sit in a circle, work in a circle,
     go round and round,
     dizzy, at times, in letting go
         of what struck us unaware,

    trusting now the saddle you place on the horse for us,
        the line we guide,
         the stool set there for each one of us,
                to climb on and off
                        the patience you  provide.

     You treat us as special as the mane we brush,
         the hooves we clean, the touch of love entwined
                             in a ring of care.

     Thank you for letting us enter your world,
                             privately formed,
                                 openly shared.     

 

                                

Book Cover

Gratitude -

It was suggested yesterday that each of us who participated in the horse program write a statement of what it has meant to us, not only to thank our dear friends, both human, and horse, but also, to convince the Marin Municipal Water District that this teeny-tiny precious place is a worthy occupant of the land.  I spent some time last night trying to write a letter, but, today, this comes.  Sometimes, when I am especially touched, I speak better in a poem, despite, in my last one, suggesting that words are shit, or, perhaps, manure.

Here is my poem of gratitude.
 

Gratitude to the Horse Program at Marin Stables

     A Gift for Cancer Survivors

 

 You put the physical back in my life,
    the physical heart, couer, courage.
 You handed me the reins of life, love, and fun.

 I bubble each time I leave.  I neigh,
    nay to pain, hurt, confusion, strain,
 nay to all that happened that I did not, could not,
           
and may never understand.

 You greet us each Friday with huge smiles
     encompassed in a canyon
             bound with ferns.

 We sit in a circle, work in a circle,
     go round and round,
     dizzy, at times, in letting go
         of what struck us unaware,

    trusting now the saddle you place on the horse for us,
        the line we guide,
         the stool set there for each one of us,
                to climb on and off
                        the patience you  provide.

     You treat us gently, confidently,
                 your touch entwined
                             in a ring of care.

     Thank you for letting us enter your world,
                             privately formed,
                                 openly shared.     

 

                                

Book Cover

Acupuncture -

I had an acupuncture session today to try and deal with this with my feet, though it seems we have to get me a little bit built up too, and slowly it goes.  I am doing much better since last time I went, and the lung meridians are down, and the lungs are grief, so it makes sense as I am grieving.   When I said I felt the trauma of this now, she pointed out I had been CUT, POISONED, AND BURNED.  That put it in perspective.  I have a reason to feel traumatized now that I am letting go so I can feel.  She said some people choose never to feel it, but since I am choosing to, I need to be kind to myself.  She reminded me she had given me a prescription for naps.  I took the prescription two days, and then, forgot.  Today, I feel tired.

She said it takes at least a year to heal from this.  Most women take two to three years, but since I seem to have a strong constitution, I may do it in a year, but it takes a year to go through all the seasons and fully renew.    She has a tapestry, that you use to see how you feel.  I was at the bottom last time, and almost near the top this time, and I could feel how much better I am doing, and I fell asleep in the session and I feel tired now.   There is no judgment, of course, as to where you are on the tapestry.  All the people on it are happy, exactly where they are, and I am motivated to climb today.  Tomorrow, I may root. 

I also brought in different supplements I was taking, or that I have used in the past.  She said algae has lead in it, no algae.  I pass that on, as I know I am not the only one who thought blue-green algae was a marvelous thing.  She is also very careful to build me up, before adding certain supplements.  She said she could give me adrenals, but I don't have the base to support them, so though it might feel like I had more energy, it would ultimately wear me out and not be the right thing.  I have self-diagnosed myself in the past, but I think now it is good  to listen to doctors of eastern and western medicine.  She also said she would have advised me to do exactly what I did, and now I build myself back up.  Anyway, I am feeling tired this evening, and part of that is recognizing that I am learning to feel it, and to balance a little better now.  I think of how we laugh when children don't know they are tired and need to go to bed, but I wonder if each of us has a little bit of that still lingering.  I'm going to do better on remembering my naps.

Someone was talking to me about a teacher who is so nurturing you feel like you are in kindergarten.  Perhaps, we need that sometimes, and maybe we can give it to ourselves.  Remember the little rugs we had in kindergarten, or were they towels?   Perhaps, snuggling with something right now is a good idea.

Well, I can't say night, night, as it is still light and bright, but, how about, soft evening and snuggle, cuddle, buggle,  wrap and rest. 
Book Cover

John Muir -

"The sun shines not on us but in us. The rivers flow not past, but through us, thrilling, tingling, vibrating every fiber and cell of the substance of our bodies, making them glide and sing."

-- John Muir


I feel this tonight.  Today when I lay on the acupuncture table, I was thinking of Rilke and the Book of Hours.  I find myself tonight feeling like a newly born foal, still wet, ready to stand and nuzzle the world.  I think new places in me are being born, new stars.