November

Within and Without: A Dramatic Poem Part III
And weep not, though the Beautiful decay...
Within thy heart, as daily in thine eyes;
Thy heart must have its autumn, its pale skies,
Leading, mayhap, to winter's dim dismay.
Yet doubt not. Beauty doth not pass away;
Her form departs not, though her body dies.
Secure beneath the earth the snowdrop lies,
Waiting the spring's young resurrection-day,
Through the kind nurture of the winter cold.
Nor seek thou by vain effort to revive
The summer-time, when roses were alive;
Do thou thy work-be willing to be old:
Thy sorrow is the husk that doth infold
A gorgeous June, for which thou need'st not strive
                                            -George MacDonald


what more can I say? this expresses all that is tangled inside. 

September Rain

     

"Alas!       How  easily things go wrong!
	A sigh too deep, or a kiss too long,
	Ant then comes a mist and a weeping rain,
	And life is never the same again. "                        -George MacDonald The world is in such a state that the weeping rain outside my window seems to be the appropriate soundtrack. Crazy evil in Europe and the Middle East-satisfying, fulfilling prophecy, some would say-so many young people dying senselessly, needlessly, wasting potential and health, and goodness that this world could use a lot more of. People in exile walking from country to country in hopes of better, safer, and more normal lives.   Others staying put, and enduring much- hoping the rescuers will come and the bombing will stop. So normal can be meal-preparation and scolding the children, and complaining about laundry. But normal for now is walking many miles in rain and with hunger-toward a new beginning and away from what was known And meanwhile the Pope comes to America and so does the tsar of Russia and the President of China- emerging all on soil of a people who have lost interest. For now, as long as there is a normal that includes soccer, and Halloween costume shopping and video games, there is no need to notice that things are changing everywhere and maybe even here. The gloomy world news and the gloomy day make me think about hope and sunshine and redemption. Eternal things "Sun's up, uuh huh, looks okay. The world survives into another day. And I'm thinking about eternity. " -Bruce Cockburn song spinning around in my head because really on days like today, it is perfectly acceptable to daydream about eternity. When there are no more reports of man's inhumanity to man, or cancer in babies and young mothers, stabbings, or poverty. It is okay to dream of something better and less messy. The rain will eventually stop, the news can just be turned off for now, but with September's end comes colorful October and a last chance for warm days before winter sets in with its unforgiving biting wind. Usually gloomy days don't inspire me- I want to sleep and read and drink tea and eat not because I am hungry but because I need comforting- as we all do these days.

Day Light Ending

T

There is that light at the end of the day- you know what I mean-It is sad and yet hopeful -the shadows move -dance even.

I took a walk around the house at dusk and there were smells of fresh mown grass and budding flowers.


The lilacs have gone brown, but new irises appear.





Little chippy peeks out to pose for a photo. He loves the seeds the birds drop from the feeder.
Even he knows about the light at the end of the day. Basking in that light for just a minute more, then he scurries back into his hiding place-cheeks stuffed- ready for evening rest.

April Come What May

April already!

Snow bird must fly home
To winter still
Unrelenting this year

Managing to escape its icy grip
Leaves me grateful and a little guilty.

The rose garden is so  pleasant to look at until
the thorn jabs deep into skin
Hold on to its beauty and
Taking home the thought of it
When there is all that white upon arrival. 

the yellows and reds and deep green 
I leave behind for now.

The long road ahead
Weary at just thought
the desserts and plains and mountains and prairies and
all that must be crossed before home
emerges white and eager.

Goodbye 2014

   These trees taken from a fast moving car blur like the year just gone past.

Dec 31 2014

Here it is the last day of the year and I am not writing out resolutions this year- seeking rather to find REAL SOLUTIONS for my life- breaking away from oppression and all the other things that weigh me down and keep me from flying-

I would like to say that I am fine, but my health and my dreams tell me that I am not. I have many unresolved issues in my life and relationships that need to be forsaken. I have dreams to make real and life changes to make happen. But I will not make any resolutions this year. I want to live in the moment;  And this moment, cold and windy in Las Vegas, is where I am now. Once more, living not in my own home, but as a guest in another home-waiting for the chance to be restored to my own, which is now cold and closed up-waiting patiently for my return.

 

And in this moment, there is a flu bug to defeat. A nasty invasion that demands my attention and clogs my thinking. And at this moment, there is a new year to contemplate. A year of hopeful changes, and perhaps an end to all this nomadic living. A time to settle down and stay in one place for a change.

 

Thankful for all the good things that happened in 2014, but also thankful that this year is over. 

 

No more waxing poetic or  trying to make sense of the things that didn't make sense or work out, or come together. Instead, moving on, picking myself up, dusting myself off and starting all over again.

 

Welcome 2015!  I hope you bring joy, and peace, and wisdom, and fun, and new experiences!

I hope you treat this old warrior kindly! Bring me what you will, and take from me what needs to go away, and hold me up, and if you do your best, I will not make a resolve to do my best

I will live each moment as it comes, and hope to look back next year with a smile!

In Love with the Light

"Light is good company, when alone; I took my comfort where I found it,"
   Aimee Bender, The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake


This lovely September light has been my companion these past few days. I have enjoyed her company immensely. I have greedily taken these days of summer's end to spend in solitude, reflecting, pondering, waiting, searching for answers, and sleeping soundly like a cat on a window sill in the afternoon while the sun filters through the curtains and wraps me up like burrito safe and warm.

  

 
Sapphire and diamond skies this September afternoon


Shadows dance 
Wind keeps time
leaves wave like the
Queen from the back of the coach

 

 

Six Decades on Planet Earth

Six decades
living and being
part of sunlight and clouds
and happy and sad and surprised
so much of good and bad
 but
still so much left to learn and
still so sheltered in so many ways.

I am stubborn and tenacious and gentle and creative and
flawed and feisty and graceful and clumsy.
But here, nonetheless, for the ones who want or need
my presence and presents and patience.
I have had adventures and people who have come and gone.
I am happy about the ones who have stayed all along-
for the ride, for the food, for the laughs, for the words of comfort,
for whatever it was they got that they needed from me at the time.

Simplicity and wonder are what I am-for what it is worth.
money or success hasn't been a motivator so there wasn't much of that
in these six decades, but what has been necessary has been there always!

the world has changed a lot in these sixty years.
I saw a lot of beauty fade from the earth.
New inventions seem confusing and sometimes unnecessary to me.
why haven't there been cures or improvements in all this time?

-lately
it seems like we as the human race are walking backwards
when I see the news I am not seeing evolving or tolerance
or any move toward peace.

But in spite of this, I am an optimist
and have thought about the end of the story- mine as well as the earth's.
I am hoping that in the next six decades there will be
renaissance, cures, tolerance, beauty, joy, and less anger.

But then, I was born during a hurricane.
I know what winds of change can do.

I have lived sixty years,
and I have learned that hope is one of the great gifts

But I don't know everything yet.

Walking Walden Pond

Walden Pond -June 2014


"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived." -Henry David Thoreau

It was a bit anti-climatic to finally go to Walden Pond, and yet I felt the same enchantment that Thoreau experienced in his day as I took a walk around the whole pond. I wondered what he would have thought if he could see it now; college students squealing as their bikini-clad bodies hit the cool water, families picnicking on the shore, ropes and signs directing walkers away from the deadly deer ticks, and the gift shop filled with memorabilia made in China.

Still, the pond itself was lovely, and the water was still clear and cool. The woods were inaccessible in places- unlike the free space that Thoreau enjoyed. I tried to imagine him tromping this path in the pitch dark after a night in the town at the pub, and shuddered at the coldness he must have endured in the winter. I saw the replica of the tiny cabin he called home, and tried to think where all my books and trinkets would fit if I had to live in a space so small. I walked the narrow sectioned off path around the pond and thought about simplicity and living a deliberate life. The drive from Maine to Walden Pond was anything but idyllic-there was traffic and construction, and noise, and yet, once I was actually there, I could see why Thoreau loved the place enough to write a book about it. I was able for a moment in time to actually walk the same path he did, and I was able to think about how quiet and dark the nights must have been. It was a time-travel experience that I can re-live when I need to feel simplicity. freedom, and solitude.

Thanks Giving

" A shaft of sunlight at the end of a dark afternoon, a note of music, and the way the back of a baby’s neck smells if it’s mother keeps it tidy,” answered Henry.
“Correct,” said Stuart. “Those are the important things. You forgot one thing, though. Mary Bendix, what did Henry Rackmeyer forget?”
“He forgot ice cream with chocolate sauce on it,” said Mary quickly.”  
-E.B. White, From Stuart Little

 Thanksgiving -a time to reflect on what there is to be thankful for.
For me, it is the little things- and especially the important things.
I am grateful for a shaft of sunlight at the end of a dark afternoon.
I am truly thankful for many of the notes in music I have heard over the years.
And, oh yes-that sweet smell of a clean baby.
 And ice cream-gelato precisely!

This year I earned much less than in years past. -probably the year of my lowest earnings since my teen years, and yet, I am eternally grateful for provision. It has been a tough year job-wise, and yet I have never gone hungry, been homeless, or gone without anything that was important. It has been truly amazing So, I am grateful this Thanksgiving for health and answered prayer and the songs of a child. I taught a three-year old the song with the words-  "pick yourself up, and dust yourself off, and start all over again!" and she sings it all the time now. To me! When I need to hear it most. All things to be grateful for.

Vanishing Point

“How can I tell what I think until I see what I say?”
― David Markson, Vanishing Point    


Once again, we hit the road heading West
to escape the harshness of winter.
Leaving home was especially emotional this year-
more uncertainty than usual.
This year, all I know is that
there is a wedding we must attend in Las Vegas.

 After that, anything can happen.
Job offers are scarce this year,
 but we have always managed to survive winters past.
 I am certain that this year will be no exception.

Leaving behind a cozy home 
is freeing and uncomfortable
all at once.

Always a challenge to bring the right things
and leave the unnecessary behind.
Spending 4-6 months on the run
from Old Man Winter
can seem like an adventure,
and somehow we have always managed to outsmart him.

Aging makes me realize that each year I
have to try harder to adapt and dance and smile and
live in the moment.

But I do adapt and dance and smile and live in the moment-
because this moment is the what I have
and all that is certain.

Maine June

 

                     Magnificent bloom-the way the light flows through translucent petals

 

 

                               Lupines and wildflower

 

 

 

And lilacs in a green vase reflected on my grandmother's mirrored table .

 

 

 

 

March

New pink buds appear on the peach tree.

The fragrance from the lemon tree is sweet and pungent at the same time.

Wind lovingly messes the hair of the palm in front of deep blue.

Pale blue  against green in several hues.

Plants set outside adjust to the outdoor temperatures and respond cheerfully.

"It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold:When it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade."

-Charles Dickens

This is March and soon Spring will replace winter. That always make me happy because try as I might, I really don't like winter. 

Soon, I will experience the East Coast version of Spring. But for now, I will bask in the warmth and enjoy the subtle changes of this most lovely slight rotation of the Earth's axis.

"Every day that is born into the world comes like a burst
of music and rings the whole day through, and you will make of it a dance, a dirge, or a life march, as you will"
-Thomas Carlyle

"The day is ending,
The night is descending;
The marsh is frozen,
The river dead.

Through clouds like ashes
The red sun flashes
On village windows
That glimmer red."
-  Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Afternoon in February 

February is a melancholy month. A time when winter grips hard and doesn't want to let go. Snow and slush and cold and wind and illness and travel that is difficult and it all is the same every February. I want to hibernate like a bear and only come out when the winds die down and the sun shines warm and the small white flowers show sweet promise.

But life goes on and life requires motion-even in February! So I push through and get up and move and strip the bed and throw the blankets and sheets into the washer so I can't just crawl back in and waste away my day. Each day that I move-even a little- I am moving closer to Spring, to the orange poppies and purple iris-still waiting for me there in that small garden just behind my back door-now hidden under that soggy white blanket of half-melted snow.

Train Window

"It was morning; through the high window I saw the pure, bright blue of the sky as it hovered cheerfully over the long roofs of the neighboring houses. It too seemed full of joy, as if it had special plans, and had put on its finest clothes for the occasion. "
Herman Hesse

I took the train from LA to San Diego and saw some amazing things-people, mostly, going about their business, plodding through another day, or joyfully embracing it! 

People waiting, oblivious to the signs-Look! Restrooms! Six papers full of words! Color everywhere!

 

No swimming today! Though the waves look so inviting! Empty sand begging for barefoot toes!

 

 

 

Fade to black and white!

Appreciation

 

"I’m grateful for being here, for being able to think, for being able to see, for being able to taste, for appreciating love – for knowing that it exists in a world so rife with vulgarity, with brutality and violence, and yet love exists. I’m grateful to know that it exists."

-Maya Angelou

 

This is how I have felt for the past few weeks. In spite of the circumstances, and the helplessness I have felt at times, somehow, knowing the love from my wonderful family and incredible friends in a very real way.

Trials are about remembering what is important-getting perspective. Still, I would like to be able to bask a little, enjoy the end of one trial before another begins. In my life, they tend to be back to back -one of top of another-no real break

But the beauty is, I am noticing the whole of life as a gift-not just the series of troubles and questions with no answers, but as breathing and smiling and running when I can, and dancing-with or without the music playing. 

Peace Like a River

Peace like a river — how refreshing that stream — that calms us, like a wondering dream.
This week I got one of those phone calls that every parent dreads. My son had been stabbed in New York City on New Year's Eve. The details are fuzzy-because my son was walking home and felt someone behind him and then the next thing he knew, he was in the hospital with multiple stab wounds.

One of the hardest things about this East Coast/ West Coast life is that I always seem to be on the wrong coast at the wrong time. I had no resources to just jump on  a plane and run to his rescue. I had to wait and trust and pray-something much easier in theory than in reality. My family and friends living on the East Coast stood at the ready to gather my son up and take him somewhere safe for healing. Daily phone calls helped because I could tell at the moment he answered the phone by the tone of his voice how he was doing. I still want to get back there and help and make him dinner and check the stitches to make sure they are not infected. But here I am, doing helping of a different kind.

And through this entire week, with the exception of a few anxious moments in the middle of the night, I had peace. Peace like a river. I had no idea how things would turn out, so I had to rest. And pray for wisdom. And then, strangers who let me know that my son was in their prayers asked me how they could help. It is so heart-warming to have family and friends who know my son reach out. But it was the kindness of strangers that made me so grateful for the goodness still very apparent in this world.

This morning, when I spoke to my son, he said he is hoping to go back to work next week. I am hopeful that the healing continues-body, mind, and spirit. 
I am still at the ready to do whatever it is that needs doing, but in this week, I learned that there are some circumstances where God can handle the big stuff on His own.
My job is to take care of the tasks at hand and seek wisdom, and enjoy the peace that comes when you least expect it!

West Coast Again!

Well, my East Coast /West Coast life continues!

             
Thinking I was going to spend the winter months in North Carolina, I had already      accepted that I would not get to see the Pacific Ocean for a while.
                     But here I am. Wading in the surf wearing a sundress in December.

On the way, we stopped at Lake Havasu City, AZ in the desert to see the reconstructed bridge that used to be in London, relocated piece by piece and now standing in the middle of a desert.

I was thinking about the history of that bridge, the song I used to sing as a child while jumping rope, ("London bridge is falling down, my fair lady.."), and how strange that an American oil tycoon would buy a bridge that once spanned the  River Thames in England. So he could put it in a desert!

       Moonlight Beach
-sunshine, warm, salty air, gull and pelican sounds breaking silence, children squealing when feet touch the chilly water, food cooking scenting the air, waves crashing
-sleep on a sandy blanket.

Sadness on sadness

This is a very sad weekend for many families in Connecticut.
And for anyone who works with, loves, and has children.
How do you even begin the fathoming required to imagine such a tragic loss of life?
As a teacher of young children, I have been overwhelmed all weekend.
An ordinary day begun like so many others.
And then in an instant, everything changed.
Forever.
Caretakers and teachers are responsible for children.
Irreplaceable. Innocent. Children.
I have no answers for why this happened.
I have a greater understanding only that every moment
I have working, teaching, playing, and learning from children
is priceless.

December

“How did it get so late so soon? Its night before its afternoon. December is here before its June. My goodness how the time has flewn. How did it get so late so soon?”
-Dr. Seuss

December is here and some days have a certain shade of blue to them. In the sky as well as within me. Time is a gazelle, swift and graceful. I reflect and wait. I will be heading back to the west coast for a few months, and the California sky will have its own shade of blue, not so wintry and friendlier.

This trip back will be different than years past. I am answering a call for help, so I will do my best to not to be easily distracted from the task at hand. It is an honor to be in a position of giving comfort-and humbles me.

Feeling a bit ill-equipped, but determined to give the best possible help, I know that I can't try to go in my own strength.  Psalm 18:32- "It is God who arms me with strength and makes my way perfect." This, I can depend on as I head west. And so, in spite of my best efforts to settle down and find a more permanent home, I once again set out on my west coast-east coast journey. 

Wonder-ing

"It just ain't possible to explain some things. It's interesting to wonder on them and do some speculation, but the main thing is you just have to accept it-take it for what it is, and get on with your growing."
-Jim Dodge  

I wonder about a bunch of things , like man's inhumanity to man, like why are there so many questions without satisfying answers and why hard working people have to choose between food and heat and why people who don't lift a finger to support themselves have all they could desire as well as all they need. I wonder also about how fiber optics work and how it is possible to comprehend and communicate in several languages.

Today, my wondering came from an experience I had with my job hunting. I had a first interview earlier in the week, and was called back this morning for a "working interview".
Something that is common for teachers of young children. You go in and read a book or do an art project or whatever fits in with the little amount of information you get from the director about their expectations. It is mostly to determine a teacher's ability to interact with children. So, I went to the library. spent several hours choosing the perfect book, carefully chose what to wear, and went through rehearsals, got up early and showed up at the appointed time.

Fifteen minutes after I was supposed to be there, the director came in and had forgotten all about our appointment. She asked if we could reschedule for next week. OK, I said.

So what is this all about? It made me begin to wonder if I  should go back. Do I want to work somewhere that an employee's (or even a potential employee's) time is not respected? 

Anyway, I will "get on with my growing" and wonder about all that next week.