Not Gonna Lie To You

My dad tells the story of a guy in his past who was often guilty of stretching the truth. The guy was telling a story one day that began with these ways, "I'm not gonna lie to ya now..." and before he could continue on, someone interrupted to say something like, "Gosh, son, don't make any exceptions, you lie to everybody else..."

So, I'll tell ya, I'm not gonna lie to you. Some of the things that have been happening after the election have disturbed and worried me. I've never been one to speak out about things. It's outside my comfort zone to do so. But there are things going on now in this country that just aren't right. I've been observing and reading the things my more outspoken friends have been posting on Facebook. I've been thinking about what it is I can do, or need to do. I don't yet totally know. I've been reminded that the best way for me to respond to any of it is in my own way.

They say art is healing. In some ways, I suppose it is. At the very least, for me, it's good self care. And I think a lot of us need plenty of self care in these days. I'm just not sure how that helps our country, which I feel is in great peril. These are tough times we are living in.

Busy Hands, Busy Mind, Busy Body

Some days I feel like the proverbial chicken with my head cut off, running and running. It seems to me I have too much going on right now.

I'm keeping up with my practice of doing a collage a day. I believe I'm on day 23 now. I've been participating in a little daily writing practice, doing three lines to a prompt. That group is finished now but I think I may try to continue on with the practice, maybe by writing three lines about my day in third person. I've signed up for another month long activity that I hope I will continue to do, rather than getting upset and just quitting. And it's time for the annual Do You 10Q? that I've done for the last 6 years.

I'm playing tennis three times a week. Once for league play, once for drills, and once with a large group where we divide up and play for 30 minutes, then divide up again with different people and play for 30 minutes again (and once more after that). Plus I'm trying to do yoga twice a week during lunch and then there is the Power Sculpting class that I try to attend on Wednesday nights. And of course, I'm working full time.

I don't usually like my days to be this full! There are still other things I should be doing that I am not getting done. I know, I'm not supposed to should on myself.

Anyway, here are a few more of the collages I've been doing.

A grad student friend of mine loved this one. She said she felt like she needed elephant man hanging on her wall. She's having an extremely busy semester and has been very kind to me. I decided to give it to her. I had a square frame on hand so I framed it and brought it to her.

I've been experimenting with adding paint, ink, and charcoal pencil to the backgrounds. I've also dropped down from doing two a day to only doing one!

I feel like the woman in the picture. I think I need a time out! I've often said I wished I had the power to stop the world so I could get caught up. So far I haven't figured out how to make that happen.

I did these last two Saturday while I was in the country. I didn't have too much material with me. But it worked out well.

And finally, there is this little "thang" I did on my phone. My confederate rose was blooming and the quote showed up on my Facebook news feed, a lovely case of serendipity.

Enjoy the Ice Cream, or Life, Whatever The Case Might Be

Going in to the labyrinth, when I was in San Antonio with my friends, was also an enlightening experience.

In the week after I was told I had no evidence of cancer, a classmate of my sister's died. I assume from cancer. My cousin died after a routine gall bladder surgery. Both were far too young. I was left wondering how things worked the way they did--why am I still here and others are not? What does this mean?

One of my wise friends mentioned to me that she had decided I'd been forced to join a club to which most folks don't want to belong. I'd always been aware of being in that "club" of parents who had lost a child, another club to which no one wants to belong, but I hadn't thought of having "the cancer" as being forced to join that club no one really wants to join.

And because she is a statistical type of thinker, she also mentioned that not only was I in the "cancer club," I was also in the subset of "survivors," where of course, we all want to be. But that brings it's own set of stresses and not everyone gets that privilege.

These things were on my mind as I was walking into the labyrinth, that I didn't know why I was blessed to have made it into the survivors club, that I was extremely grateful for the privilege, even while I was filled with sorrow for those I knew whose lives had ended way too soon. Life just isn't fair and I can't explain or understand why these things worked out the way they did.

I decided that day that "why" is a useless question, at least where things like life and death and the number of days we are allotted is concerned. I wanted to go back and ask my friends what they thought about the value of why as a question, but we got off on other things and I forgot all about it.

Fast forward to today, while I was reading backwards in a "daily book" that I read, looking for quotes to put in my calendar, in an attempt to add color and depth to the pages.

On July 15th, I was told there was no evidence of cancer. I was also told they would see me again in October. So, occasionally, when I pass on the news that "I am all clear," I whisper silently to myself words like, "at this moment," or "as far as I know now." The prospects of having to go back in October, and again, every three months for three years, and then every six months for two more years before I could be really declared "cured" weighed heavily on me. I joked that I was now that I was declared "clean," that I could now go out and start living again. In three month increments. Of such things are the stresses of the survivors (but I'll take that stress, I'm not complaining, just trying to figure things out in my head).

Anyway, somehow, during that walk into the center of the labyrinth, the weight of those three month increments was lifted and I came to realize how I just need to take my life one day at a time, and not waste a minute of it worrying about what might be. We all get what we get in terms of days to live.

Okay, I'm rambling here! Today, on the July 15th page of this "daily book," there was this quote. I don't know how it didn't scream "I'm significant!" on July 15th when I first read it. Maybe I hadn't heard the good news yet, I don't know.

But it seems to be a good philosophy for me to employ any time I let the "three month increment" blues take over.

"My advice to you is not to inquire why or whither, but just enjoy the ice cream while it's on your plate--that's my philosophy." Thornton Wilder 

A Convoluted Prayer of Thanksgiving

For all the people in my life who remind me

(who gently admonish me?)

to "Breathe!"

I must really need the reminder because it is a common thing for me to hear.

Or maybe it's just a good thing to say 

when there is nothing else to do.

Still, I am grateful 

for friends who can be present

with me

and breathe with me

when there truly is not much else

that can be done.

To sit in that rather helpless place

with another

is not an easy thing to do. 

Those who can do it well

are a balm to the soul.

Hope and Redemption

I've been neglecting my blogging and I don't like that.

My six week checkup was a bit of a fiasco, but I suppose all's well that ends well. The Ct scan showed a spot on the liver> They wanted a closer look at it and so I had to do an MRI. In the words of one of our professors at work, "let me just say this about that"--I was well conditioned to fear MRIs. But I went to have it done, after talking to several people about the thing, and gathering various tips on how to cope while "in the tube." The machine was not open air, but it allegedly had a larger opening than most. I would love eventually to write in more detail about that experience. For now, I'll just say it went far better than I ever expected. And, the spot they say turned out to be a benign mass of "tangled blood vessels" (hemangioma). So everything is clear and I report back to the oncologist in October for my next check up. 

 

Needless to say, I am beyond excited to have this positive report. I am currently absorbing this information and perhaps inexplicably, I am asking myself the question, "What shall I do now?" Cause, you know, I don't want to waste my privilege. And when one is faced with the possibility of their own demise being way sooner than one expected, one does tend to think about things, perhaps overly so.

 

The words on this photo are lyrics from an older song. I don't do well at keeping up with current music so I'd never heard of the song or the group but the words do appeal to me. The background is from a photo I'd taken of partially assembled prayer flags I was working on, edited in a "Tiny World" app on my phone.

I'll not be around much for the next several days. I am off to gather again with my camp out tribe sisters from blogland, for our second annual retreat. I'll be seeing old friends again and meeting two friends in person for the very first time!

Understated Announcement

I don't know that I ever actually "announced" on my blog that I opened an online shop quite a while back. I have several of my "thangs" listed for sale online as cards. I have not done much with the shop lately but I hope to add more some time in the future. And if there is ever anything you are interested in, you can always ask me about it and I can list it in the shop. I am also considering offering larger prints. I have a couple of friends who encouraged me to print some of the "thangs" in a larger size and they do look quite nice.

I'm not real good at self-promotion but the tab is at the top of my blog header if you are interested.

Let me know if you have any questions or feedback to offer. I'd certainly appreciate it!

Reporting In

 A cancer diagnosis sometimes speeds up this process. :)

I dodged the bullet on the MRI, for now. I do have fatty liver disease, and they will check me again in six months. There is also the possibility that they will want to take my gall bladder out too, after the chemo. It's never really given me any trouble but they say it is stiff and there are worries about that. There is no medicine for the fatty liver disease, other than to eat healthier and get regular exercise. I can do that. I'm already working on healthier eating and when the weather warms up, I plan on starting up with my walking regime again.

I took the photo above with my phone this weekend. We spent the weekend in the country, after a three week absence. It was an altogether relaxing experience. I meant to bring my big camera and forgot.

Synchronicity!

The weirdest thing happened with the road photo I posted in my last blog post! First of all, I added a small sliver of text from a Mary Oliver poem, "Today". See the poem below.

Here are the pictures I did....

I can't decide which one I like best, the faded text or the darker text. But all of that is not important to the story I am trying to tell.

On Facebook, I accidentally posted the photo with the faded text in the comments section of a friend's post, on her page! The photo didn't show up on my page and I had no idea what had happened until I got a noticed that someone I do not know had "liked" my photo (in my defense, I was doing all this on my phone, which can be tricky)! I figured out what happened when I clicked on the notice and was taken back to my friend's page.

To my surprise, the person had posted a comment about this being a road from her dream 30 or so years ago!

I told her I had not intended to post it there, told her the road was in Kisatchie Forest, and hashtagged it as #oldladytechissues! She wrote back to say thank you for my old lady tech issues! I mentioned how Jung would have said it was a case of synchronicity and she agreed and said it meant a lot to her. 

Is that not the weirdest, most delightful thing??!! 

Here is the complete poem:

Today

Today I'm flying low and I'm
not saying a word.
I'm letting all the voodoos of ambition sleep. 

The world goes on as it must,
the bees in the garden rumbling a little,
the fish leaping, the gnats getting eaten.
And so forth.

But I'm taking the day off.
Quiet as a feather.
I hardly move though really I'm traveling
a terrific distance.

Stillness. One of the doors
into the temple. 

~Mary Oliver

A Word of Enlightenment

I sent this to a friend, who replied with this: "Oh yes, true.  But what I keep hearing from The Department of the Interior is that the OTHER thing that screws us up is having a deep sense of how we WANT things to be, along with a sense that we shouldn't want that, or that we should never inconvenience anyone else by trying to get it."

Yeah, well, that is one of my ongoing battles, the tension between knowing when the picture in my head of how things are supposed to be is a big fat load of pomposity and when it is a legitimate expectation of how life really is supposed to be. I almost always hear it as a big fat load of pomposity, and that I shouldn't inconvenience anyone by trying to get what I want. My "Direction of Correction" is in learning that sometimes others will be inconvenienced by things I want, and that does not mean I am selfish for wanting what I want.

If you don't get your tension right, you're sewing is gonna look all fonky, and the threads will eventually get all entangled and break. If you don't get your tension right on your bicycle chain, you're gonna fall off and bust your arse. Life can't work like it's supposed to work when you don't have your tensions rightly adjusted.

 

(I was just fooling around in my journal and did the one up top with colored Sharpies, then edited the photo on my phone by putting the frame around it and decided to also do a black and white version.)

Gallery Five: The Light Arrived

This is my photo for Gallery Five of the 52 Photos Project. The prompt is "The Light Arrived." I had the blinds open in my room and noticed how the shadows of the trees made the light dance on the floor like flames.

And I've been reading this fascinating book, "How the Light Gets In: Writing as a Spiritual Practice,' by Pat Schneider. Both of these quotes are from different places in the book. I've been taking quotes from the book, typing them into my notes app on my phone. I wanted to finish the book this weekend but I still have a couple of chapters to go.

This one is an old Russian saying, according to the author of the book I'm reading. She cited Alexander Solzhenitsyn as having said it. 

Just noticed I spelled the author's name wrong in the photo above. Dang it, guess I'll have to go back in and fix that. Good thing this is a phone photo and text app I've used. That will make it all the easier to fix. Just not tonight!

Thoughts on Gravity, and Grief and Living Fully

(I recently watched the movie Gravity. It was a thriller but it got real personal real quickly. This is my attempt to write about the feelings that were generated while watching this movie. It may not make much sense to anyone who has not seen the movie, I do not know.)

Someone suggested I watch the movie Gravity. I can't remember, in the name of all that is good, under what context she recommended it to me. It was in March and I just now got around to watching it. Perhaps I would not have been ready to see it in March.

I can't decide whether I am grateful to her or angry at her for giving me the heads up about the loss of the astronaut's daughter being a central part of the story. Had I not been warned, I wonder, would I have recognized the similarities to my own life in this story? I also wonder, do other people, who have not lost a child, see this simply as a story about surviving in outer space and miss the deeper drama about the loss of a child and how it sometimes makes you want to give up, and how sometimes, somehow, it ends up being your lost child that inspires you to go on?

I was there, this past winter. I didn't want to kill myself. But I almost wanted to turn off all the lights and just wait for death to come get me. It was not a good time and I am grateful to be in a better place today.

And of course, the thing about dying,--how we're all gonna die, and how most of us don't much think about that until we are faced with an imminent threat, like colon cancer (the thing that turned out okay that forced me to consider my mortality), or breast cancer (the thing that has hit a couple of my friends in the last couple of years, and thus far, they are surviving), or lung cancer (the thing that has hit a very kind acquaintance of mine, and she will not be okay--first it was six weeks with no intervention, and then, six months or so with chemo meant mostly to make her comfortable and maybe give her a little more time with her family)--that thing, our reluctance to think about our own mortality, it's a common reluctance, I assume.

Maybe I've done more thinking than most about death and dying, and what my life might be worth. In other words, what price might I be willing to pay to survive, even for an extra month or two? How hard would I fight? What would be the last things I'd need/want to do if I were faced with a fatal diagnosis and had a tight time frame? Who would I thank? Who would I want to spend some uninterrupted time with? Who would I want to help me navigate that passage? These are all questions I've considered and I have pieces of my answers sketched out in my head. I'm ready, if I have any advance warning of my impending demise. I suppose the next good question might be "How am I going to fully live before I die?" I already know I will die, it's just a matter of when will I die, and what will I do with the time I still have?

The threat of cancer, the loss of my adult son, these are two events that have shaped my life and my thinking in the last couple of years and they continue to shape my life and my thinking in ways of which I am not always fully aware. Sometimes things like Gravity trigger unexpected feelings of grief in me. I was warned, but I didn't necessarily need to be warned. My grief is an important part of who I am, and when it shows up unexpectedly, I do my best to honor it as I continue to live.

If you haven't seen the movie and are planning to, you might not want to look at the quotes below, which I've taken from the website http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1454468/quotes. These are just a few of the quotes concerning the themes that ran through the movie that touched me.

Ryan Stone: I know, we're all gonna die. Everybody knows that. But I'm going to die today. Funny that... you know, to know. But the thing is, is that I'm still scared. Really scared. Nobody will mourn for me, no one will pray for my soul. Will you mourn for me? Will you say a prayer for me? Or is it too late... ah, I mean I'd say one for myself but I've never prayed in my life. Nobody ever taught me how... nobody ever taught me how...

Matt Kowalski: I get it. It's nice up here. You can just shut down all the systems, turn out all the lights, and just close your eyes and tune out everyone. There's nobody up here that can hurt you. It's safe. I mean, what's the point of going on? What's the point of living? Your kid died. Doesn't get any rougher than that. But still, it's a matter of what you do now. If you decide to go, then you gotta just get on with it. Sit back, enjoy the ride. You gotta plant both your feet on the ground and start livin' life. Hey, Ryan? It's time to go home.

Ryan Stone: Hey, Matt? Since I had to listen to endless hours of your storytelling this week, I need you to do me a favor. You're gonna see a little girl with brown hair. Very messy, lots of knots. She doesn't like to brush it. But that's okay. Her name is Sarah. Can you please tell her that mama found her red shoe? She was so worried about that shoe, Matt. But it was just right under the bed. Give her a big hug and a big kiss from me and tell her that mama misses her. Tell her that she is my angel. And she makes me so proud. So, so proud. And you tell her that I'm not quitting. You tell her that I love her, Matt. You tell her that I love her so much. Can you do that for me? Roger that.

Ryan Stone: Never mind, Houston, never mind the story! Ah. It's starting to get hot in here. The way I see it, there are only two possible outcomes. Either I make it down there in one piece and I have one hell of a story to tell! Or I burn up in the next ten minutes. Either way, whichever way... no harm, no foul!

[Growls]

Ryan Stone: Because either way, it's going to be one hell of a ride! I'm ready.

Playing Around

I have Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday off this week for Mardi Gras. We had a freeze last night and it has been raining most of the day so I will not be partaking in the festivities this year. I have been staying inside like a hermit. I've also been staying up late and sleeping in a little in the mornings. I installed the latest version of Photoshop Elements and have been fiddling around some with that. Here are a few things I've worked on.

 The ice was quickly melting when I finally realized how much there was! I went out and took a few photos with my good camera. Nothing too spectacular but still, fun.

 This is an old one I'd take at a plantation garden in New Iberia. I've added a texture layer and played around with the impressionist brush a bit.

And this one is a donkey I'd seen at the Christmas tree farm. I removed the fence bars in front of his face and did some expressionist painting on him then I added the photo to a larger canvas and put the text below.

Regrets

Something I wish I'd learned at an earlier age:

In case you can't read it clearly:

Every path has a cost--there are no free rides (the toll booth is in there somewhere, and often it is beyond the point at which you could have turned back, though many people will glibly say "It's never too late." On the other hand, there are always other forks in the path and so, often the most practical thing to do is to just keep moving.")

Breathe

My youngest daughter sent me a text with this photo she'd taken, saying I probably had a quote for it. The photo was a pretty heart shaped leaf with some very good light on it. I manipulated it a bit in one of my phone apps and had to wait a few days for the quote to arrive in an email from a friend. The words are good reminders.

I think I like the gold version the best. But that might be because I have a different set of words on the blue photo that I will be writing more about later.

I Really Should....

I'm going to try and live out this weekend with a sense of wonder. 

It feels like I have misplaced it somewhere.

I really haven't.

It's only temporarily hidden from me.

That much I know.

I try to love, as well as I know how.

I think I live gently.

But boy, 

do I struggle 

with

gracefully letting go

of things not meant for me.

(The quote in the second photo is from Buddha's Little Instruction Book)

Happy New Year!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Memories

I am enjoying the second week of my two weeks off (and trying not to fret over how quickly the time is passing by). I don't have regular internet, only my phone and can't respond to comments on my blog.

Today I am thinking of the joys and challenges of 2013. It was a good year. I think. My memory is spotty. I hope to live next year with more awareness.

Then again, someone on Facebook said there is an old saying that says if you have one foot in the past and the other foot in the future, you are pissing on today (oh, please do 'scuse my French). I surely don't want to do that. Today, now, are all I really have. Aren't they?

Well, as long as I have today, I do still have me, and my spotty memories, and my hopes for the future.

And so it is that I will trudge philosophically into 2014 and discover what adventures await me there. . .

(I suspect my photo will be huge and will make this post look wonky. I do not know how to fix that from my phone. I WILL fix it when I get home to my laptop! Oh, I may have fixed the problem just now. Or I may have made it too small to be seen. Whatever. I will try not to obsess about it and will fix it when I can!)

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Love. Joy. Peace.

There are plenty of us for whom Christmas is a tough season. My wish is that there is always, somewhere, at least a small snippet of love, of joy, of peace for you. And maybe, on a good day, more than just a small snippet. And may you also have someone who can stand with you, waiting quietly, while the darkness passes and turns back to light.

A Brittle Fall Leaf Reminds Me

Vulnerable is not a place I like to be.

But I'm coming up on a vulnerable time.

And slowly I've learned: 

there are people who will walk with me in these vulnerable times,

people who will hold the light on the path

and I hope I can remember 

to do that for others 

when they are in their vulnerable places

for, like the man says,

we are all vulnerable in our own way

(and probably more so than we ever know).

Noticing Suffering

 

Today I noticed a discomfort I could not hold for very long and I backed away.

I was helping proctor an exam. In that room was the aunt of a 13 month old infant who was thrown across the room by the 24 YO boyfriend of the baby's mother, "out of frustration." The baby suffered a skull fracture and the boyfriend just put the baby back in the crib, telling no one what had he had done. The baby died yesterday after being taken off of life support. 

 

I thought about this as I walked around the room watching for signs of cheating. Following Buddhist tradition, I began the practice of breathing in the grief I imagine that family was suffering around the loss of this precious life. I thought about all the hopes and dreams the mother must have had for her child and how none of that will happen now. I thought of the ache in that mother's heart, the emptiness that she will carry. The second part of this exercise is to breath out whatever you think this mother and her family might need (for me this becomes a form of prayer). Comfort and peace were two of the things I thought of. There are so very few words you can say to someone in a situation like this. But my imagination of their suffering was too vivid and my eyes welled up with tears and I had to back away from my thoughts. I could not hold that pain. 

 

Lately I've noticed there is much suffering in the world. 

 

Another thing I've noticed today is that one doesn't always get to choose what one notices.