December 30, 2020. I’m feeling a bit giddy tonight, having accepted the probability that some of my YE tasks will morph into NY tasks. Acceptance enhanced with indulgence in dark chocolate. And since I’m not getting all those tedious things completed, why not write an ode to the chocolate?
Wishing all a peaceful shift into 2021.
September 9, 2020. Two weeks now since my son’s death. He was here the seven weeks prior, seldom leaving the house except for a daily walk around the block. The Labrador and two cats blinked at furniture rearrangements and accepted my son’s desire to be left unlicked, unrubbed. That said, he spent hours observing the canine/feline maneuvers and interactions. It was soon clear they were meditative entertainment through long hours of “just sitting” in the living room. I’d peek at him from behind my computer screen … or gaze at him from my rocking chair … grateful for the nonverbal companionship he enjoyed. Pets don’t ask questions.
Labrador and calico have acclimated, but I keep finding the ginger cat prowling the now-empty room we turned into his bedroom and sitting on the doorstep – signs of searching: where’d he go? For seven weeks his energy filled these rooms, and that remains. I sense a smile of sorts penetrating the space, his pleasure that this cat is seeking him. Perhaps he speaks to her in ways I cannot hear – perhaps they’re engaged in an adventure game. So much I cannot understand.
January 7, 2020. One week into this new year, new decade … one I have anticipated for its promise of transition in my personal life. I go through a month-long process each December focusing forward and creating a mandala to guide the coming year. I named 2020 Navigate Uncertainty given mid-year expectations. Well … 2020 is showing its character up-front, in this first week!
We were camped at Lake Mineral Wells State Park (west of Fort Worth TX) when 2020 arrived. Image (from my Austin yard) is last night’s sunset in west … behind it a cloudless eastern sky dominated by a high bulging moon.
November 24, 2017. I once worked in project planning, computerized schematics of software development broken into steps performed by multiple groups, overlapped in a what-must-happen-before tapestry that seldom lasted a week without major revision. Life outside IBM is far simpler, but my gears still spin at times, guessing at prerequisites, trying to rationalize delays that go unexplained to those of us outside the realm of decisions. The totally unexpected accelerates those gears! This week has been like that.
Finally, I have in hand the beautiful chapbook from Robert Okaji – ordered months ago anticipating a September publication. Worth the wait, the timing truly is perfect – a long weekend to reread these poems several times in succession. From Every Moment A Second – available from: http://www.FinishingLinePress.com or Amazon.com
Finally, there is electricity in the tiny house my daughter has been building for nearly three years and has just moved into. Powers that be seem to have delivered a persistent young tabby as house-warmer.
A lot to be thankful for this November!
November 14, 2017. From this afternoon’s impromptu walk with the dog …
November 9, 2017. Brie joined the household almost four weeks ago. Eating and growing constantly, she no longer fits on the hat she initially claimed as her nest! Oh, but it served well that first week – where better than beneath the dining table to take in her new surroundings and new companions? Eye-level with the Labrador!
Lately Brie’s often found snuggling against the Labrador – bigger and warmer than the hat. Night hours find her on the bed near our feet, a respectable distance from the elder Calico’s corner command post. (The Labrador prefers privacy in her kennel, thank you.)
September 17, 2017. For several days, I’ve been rummaging through old photographs (from before I went digital) hoping to spy a certain mug. It was white stoneware, with a pink primrose painted on the side – part of a set, four different flowers. Those mugs were my first purchase post divorce, back in 1979. Symbols of independence – kept through the years though discolored from tea and coffee. The pink one, most used, was the worst. When Gary and I merged our lives and belongings under this roof in 2006, off to Good Will went the ugly mug. I kept its blue mate, least discolored, as souvenir.
Striking out finding an old photo of the pink mug, I’ve let the blue one take its place in this collage. Behind the mug is a scanned 1997 view of my backyard swing – scene of the drama.
Here’s to memories of mindfulness before I claimed such as part of my practice.
August 19, 2017. Home from summer travels, I am finally able to connect a poem written right before departure with images I did not have along on the trip. This one’s been waiting for me to get home!
We lost our tabby Ziggy unexpectedly earlier this year. I painted the back porch rocker turquoise, all that sanding and painting a way to deal with grief. Since then, I keep seeing turquoise everywhere I turn. And every time, Ziggy comes softly to mind. One such encounter was an Eremos-sponsored day of Contemplative Poetry at St. Matthews Episcopal (in Austin) in June. I did not yet know about the turquoise table movement to encourage neighbors to sit together and get to know one another. The table pictured seemed just one more appearance of turquoise! So I sat down and communed with Ziggy about turquoise.
April 16, 2017. The many currents of thoughts and other energies can blend in surprising ways. Sometimes the nonverbal among us present the clearest responses.
April 4, 2017. Not typical Spring Fever! My restless state stems from too many changes I am unable to influence – this urge to tackle something tangible, make something prettier, even if insignificant in the larger realm of unpredictables. Why not transform a once-stately (still-comfy) rocking chair into a bright turquoise meditation station?