Your mountains hold deep beauty
hotter than hell heat
hold me close
melt the heavy metal heart of my mountain
again and again you do.
it is a spiral
ever unwinding and winding
this DNA of a life.
I’m home. Hello Santa Barbara. Hello little home. Trying to fit the new me into the old box. Went through photos, old clothes, instruments. feeling into the sands of Santa Barbara after almost a month of absence. Who am I now?
The hills are drier. The air is thicker with the morning cloud cover. I saw a few blue jays, told them about their relatives in Rhode Island. Loud, noisy, beautiful birds you are. Took Shystie for a walk. The doggies are doggies, I’m me; a little discombobulated, not use to this location shifting life. The garden is alive but not happy with my absence. Summer. Summer. Hello summer.
I went to the park. saw some of you guys, saw alot of you guys actually. Summer solstice. The brilliance of the sun is upon us now. Thank you Santa Barbara for welcoming me into your arms. Thank you home for holding space through my absence. Thank you doggies for remembering me and wagging your tails at the sun.
The longest day of the year. The shortest night. May the joy that you are be illuminated by the brilliance of this day.
Happy summer solstice.
Dad’s home from the hospital.
He still says he feels awful, but he looks a million times better. It’s roses and thorns this life. He says he helped his mom go through this, he helped his wife go through this and now it’s his turn. Simple fact, simply stated. People get old, they get frail and then they die, that’s just how it is. I will do the same some day.
I’m fighting against it every third second.
I help Paul and his nephew load the third van full of garge sale collections and stuff from the house. Clearing out, letting go; Just stuff. I go walk around the pond. I look up at the green leaves plastered against the cloudy sky. I feel the soft ground and the tall tall trees. Somehow the fresh air and the lake give me space to let in this moment’s beauty.
I surrender to the beauty of this process for two seconds.
Dad is having a hard time. He’s not in pain, not at the threshold yet (at least I don’t think so), but he’s facing a new level of his mortality. He’s facing into almost 92 years old and he needs help in a life where men don’t ask for help. He’s feeling helpless, scared, and a loss of control, in a life where men men don’t ask for help, don’t feel scared, don’t loose control. His doctor ordered him to use a cane. Dad’s been falling for months now, so stubborn, so proud. Dad’s a wild card slowly becoming sober with years.
Yes, I’m going back. Back to Rhode Island. Back to the home that my Mom and Dad shared for years. Things have changed now. Mom is gone, Dad’s Dad. I cherish that he is still here. Not sure what’s going to happen, but that’s really how life is all the time, isn’t it (I tell myself)?
It’s just at these critical junctures where decisions need to be made, and life feels so fragile, that I have come to freak out and fall into my prayers. I am not in control here. I am swimming in a sea of the forces beyond my conscious control. Continue reading
Follow your gut.
I was at a gathering of women the other day. I came away with the utter urgency of following my knowing. I felt it in the whole circle. Women know. Often in their gut before the heads. Women have the unique challenge and opportunity to feel deeply. And often that feeling can be strong.
I am a women with deep feelings. I am growing into cherishing my juiciness.
It is only through owning all those sneaky, dark parts that the full you can bloom.
Let it be.
Be In the presence of your feelings;
honor them without explanation or apology.
Yep. just like that lovely lotus flower: rooted in the mud, suspended in the waters of consciousness, the flower blooms in the sunshine of our present moment.
If I only knew then what I know now…
if we only had stayed in touch, that wouldn’t have happened…
He should have paid for the damn dinner…
You shouldn’t say I’m incompetent…
If I had only stopped and asked her about here boyfriend…
She should have done the dishes…
If he only checked the oil…
It’s not his or her fault.
It’s not your fault.
It’s not the world’s fault.
I offer you a ‘no blame’ option. Continue reading
Teach me sun how to shine my light on all.
I wish the best for you. I have been fighting against reality for far too long. I have wished things to be other that they are and caused nothing but grief, for myself and you and those around me. I have been fighting to prove my point and my point is…? dust in the mouth of change. My opinion will wither with the passing of my body, but the sun will rise and rise again.
Teach me sun how to shine my light on all
for love’s sake.
Your opening opens more permission
for every person you know and meet to do the same.
Love yourself now.
Again. And now again.
I’ve lived the first 30 or so years feeling rather immortal in a naive sort of way.
Some people might die but not me.
Then my mom died.
That wasn’t supposed to happen; maybe to others, but not me.
Then a series of friends departed in their own unique ways;
Some in an instant, others slowly,
Some fought it to the end, some came to terms with it. Continue reading
My dad doesn’t have the same measure of cleanliness that I do. I walk into his apartment and it feels so dirty to me. I ask him if he wants me to clean up ‘a bit’. He says, if it makes you happy, go ahead. Science projects at various stages in the refrigerator (you know, different color molds at different levels of bloom), the toaster oven is so caked you cant see the bagel toasting through the glass window.
Yesterday I tackled the refrigerator. Today, I cleaned the toaster oven. Yeay, I can see my bagel toasting (I never eat bagels, but when I come to NY, you know, it’s just in the air…). Makes me feel some weird level of accomplishment.
Dad say, you know, you just scrape of the mold, it’s good underneath. He retells the story of getting a much desired salami from his mom during WW2 (he was stationed in the Philippines). He threw it out because it was moldy; found out later that you can just cut off the mold and it’s great. He has lived his life with that philosophy ever since!
We all have such different rules we live by. Yes, cleaning his place makes me feel good. He’s fine with either way. I have all these beliefs about mold and grime, and he’s 91 and quite healthy. Maybe, like penicillin, it has helped him. And at this point, who am I to argue?
I think, I am doing this cleaning for him, and you know what? He enjoys that it floats my boat. Yes, it makes me feel better, and like I’m taking care of him somehow. He enjoys that I am here, whatever I am doing.
Why do you do what you do? It’s real helpful to get clear on intention.
I’m not going to spend all day cleaning ‘for his sake’-just a few hours ‘for my sake’ and enjoy the rest of the day hanging with him.
On to the cupboards tomorrow….