Evening sought -
It is so beautiful today, and I have been outside watering. What a treat! In one day, hair has sprung out on my arms and legs. It is amazing. I wish the hair on my head would sprout as fast, but perhaps it is, and it is just less obvious up there.
I missed the protest on Darfur yesterday, the gathering of people on the Golden Gate bridge, and I feel sad about that, and yet, I realize again today that my energy is not what I might wish. I am still having to pace and isolate.
Today, I realized that I often used to not know how I felt until I was over the top, either angry or sad, but I am learning to feel it now and honor it, and I think that is because I don't have the energy to block it. Today, I feel sadness, just that, no story. Perhaps, another day, I will feel anger, and certainly I could rationalize justification for that with all that is going on, but I'm not sure that is appropriate. I think response is appropriate, and feeling what I feel, but I think I am learning now to bring myself more into balance on all the weather patterns circulating through, and to use my energy for doing, and honoring my use of fuel. I am trying to take a longer view, to witness, and, as I say, to use my energy to do what I can do, and not stew - ah, now, the Serenity prayer comes to mind. Yes, that works, too.
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change
The courage to change the things I can
And the wisdom to know the difference
Today, I was with a poem of James Wright where he is in a hammock, and realizing that is the most important thing he can do, lie there, aware, in a hammock.
I thought of that today as I did not cross things off my list. My list still awaits and I celebrated a lovely day.
I look for James Wright's hammock poem, and in the looking, find this one by James Wright.
TODAY I WAS HAPPY, SO I MADE THIS POEM
As the plump squirrel scampers
Across the roof of the corncrib,
The moon suddenly stands up in the darkness,
And I see that it is impossible to die.
Each moment of time is a mountain.
An eagle rejoices in the oak trees of heaven,
Crying
This is what I wanted.
A few years ago I wrote a hammock poem.
I missed the protest on Darfur yesterday, the gathering of people on the Golden Gate bridge, and I feel sad about that, and yet, I realize again today that my energy is not what I might wish. I am still having to pace and isolate.
Today, I realized that I often used to not know how I felt until I was over the top, either angry or sad, but I am learning to feel it now and honor it, and I think that is because I don't have the energy to block it. Today, I feel sadness, just that, no story. Perhaps, another day, I will feel anger, and certainly I could rationalize justification for that with all that is going on, but I'm not sure that is appropriate. I think response is appropriate, and feeling what I feel, but I think I am learning now to bring myself more into balance on all the weather patterns circulating through, and to use my energy for doing, and honoring my use of fuel. I am trying to take a longer view, to witness, and, as I say, to use my energy to do what I can do, and not stew - ah, now, the Serenity prayer comes to mind. Yes, that works, too.
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change
The courage to change the things I can
And the wisdom to know the difference
Today, I was with a poem of James Wright where he is in a hammock, and realizing that is the most important thing he can do, lie there, aware, in a hammock.
I thought of that today as I did not cross things off my list. My list still awaits and I celebrated a lovely day.
I look for James Wright's hammock poem, and in the looking, find this one by James Wright.
TODAY I WAS HAPPY, SO I MADE THIS POEM
As the plump squirrel scampers
Across the roof of the corncrib,
The moon suddenly stands up in the darkness,
And I see that it is impossible to die.
Each moment of time is a mountain.
An eagle rejoices in the oak trees of heaven,
Crying
This is what I wanted.
A few years ago I wrote a hammock poem.
Little Things
I float on a hammock,
between two trees,
focus my eyes above,
question why my path is straight,
when the branches,
are what I love.