Just yesterday afternoon, in the midst of a lovely slug day, Ben, out of nowhere, said, "how is Uncle Josh?" F and I were shocked, not only by his ability to articulate such a thought, but that he did so while enjoying a nap at the foot of F's chair.
So, I decided that I would post this picture of Ben and his sibs taken on July 17, '08. By way of posting this photo, Ben, Yeshe, and Allie B. Old are saying hi to Uncle Josh.
I've been experiencing a lot of memories lately, and I've thought a lot about what memories are and aren't.
What they are is spontaneous. I can't control or prevent them from arising. Probably the only way not to have memories is to have amnesia and I can't even imagine what that would be like. The only thing I can control is my emotional response to memories. There was a time when I couldn't do that. I would have memories of times and incidents that were emotionally painful or humiliating for me and I would be thrust right back into the pain and discomfort of that moment and situation. Not as intensely, not as despairingly. That has changed. Now I experience most memories without all the emotional baggage.
I don't even know if or when I wanted that to happen. I think by the time I knew that you could actually achieve that I was becoming aware that I was on my way. I don't know if it's aging, or if its meditation and contemplation. I just know that I have aged and I meditate and I contemplate and now it is different.
I remember when my relationship with L ended. Prior to being together I was almost crippled by fear. I was afraid of violence. I was afraid of being caught sleeping and off guard and losing my life in painful ways as a result. At one point in my life that was a realistic fear, but it hadn't been for many years, yet I still experienced aloneness as if it was still my reality. I didn't like to live alone because I feared the fear so much. I feared the sleepless nights, the nightmares and anxiety. The twelve years we were together I lived under the belief that if alone I would experience that again on a daily basis. Then we broke up.
When we parted ways I decided I really wanted to live alone. I was afraid, not of being killed or harmed. I was afraid the fear would be there again and that it would be all encompassing like it had been in the past. I moved into an apt. alone and it didn't happen. I wasn't afraid. I didn't have fear of being alone, of being harmed, of being caught off guard. I was comfortable alone. I felt safe and enjoyed the quiet and freedom that it brought me. I didn't know until I had tested it, until I had put myself in the position to confront it, that it had fallen away during the course of maturing. I had become the person I wanted to be and I hadn't known it until then.
And now I am moving into another area of realizing that who I thought I was has changed. I am experiencing it as a sense of loss. Loss is a weird thing. It makes me very aware. I am aware of the absence of something that I have been accustomed to being part of my psyche or my physical experience. Loss, for me, is awareness of absence, and it is often a relief and a liberating experience though it can also feel strange, scary, and sad. Loss is adjusting to the absence of something I have had to live with. Even if that thing was an obstacle, as they often are, I experience the absence of it as loss. But I know that it's ok, and actually I want to experience more. I want to lose more assumptions, obstacles, preconceived notions of my abilities and opportunities.
I would like my life to be stripped bare of all barriers that prevent me from reaching my full potential as a human being. And what would that look like? What would my life be like if I were living, thinking, functioning to my fullest? I don't even know. And isn't that the point? To imagine what it would look like would be to put some kind of parameters around it. To establish a high water mark, so to speak, for what "fullest" would look like. Maybe I am at this very moment living to my fullest capacity. But will that be true tomorrow? Or the next day?
Frankye and I watched a very good movie the other day. It was called Holy Smoke and starred Kate Winslet and Harvey Keitel. The film is about a young woman who goes to India (from Australia) and falls under the spell of a guru. Her family becomes alarmed and hires the best de-programmer America has to offer. The heart of the film is about the time the de-programmer and the young woman spend together challenging one another's life and belief assumptions.
I thought it was a powerful film. F did not, though she felt it was enjoyable and beautifully photographed, which it is. I related very much to the film and as a result I have had an on-going stream of memories just bombarding my mind. I feel like I'm living in a meteor shower of memories from my late teens to my early 20s. The memories are not disturbing, though that period of my life was. It's as if the memories are just pieces, fragments, floating, detached, and I am finally making sense of it all. With that has come a sense loss. I feel a sense of loss about opportunities that I didn't even know I had. I didn't reject them. I didn't know they were there. And that "unawareness" makes me sad, because if there is one thing that I can say I would do over again it would be that. I don't know that I would have taken any of the oportunities. I would just like to have known they were there.
I am a Blue Crayon |
 Your world is colored in calm, understated, deep colors. You are a loyal person, and the truest friend anyone could hope to find. On the inside, you tend to be emotional and even a bit moody. However, you know that people depend on you. So you put on a strong front. Your color wheel opposite is orange. Orange people may be opinionated, but you feel they lack the depth to truly understand what they're saying. |
I had a lovely sobriety anniversary day yesterday. Friends remembered and told me so. I had a busy work day but lots of energy and good feeling all day. It was a good day.
It was preceded by a good weekend. By the time I got home from work Friday night I didn't feel too well. I had a headache off and on since Wednesday afternoon. The Q was in town and we had lunch together at India Restaurant. She looks great, and Andrea looks great and it was a pleasure to see them. I went back to work after lunch and slowly the ongoing headache returned. F and I chilled out, spent the evening watching the first 4 episodes of "The L Word" on a netflix DVD, and then went to bed.
Saturday I dragged myself through a series of chores, including going to KTC for some bookkeeping work (I had a severe headache at that point and could not practice.) Afterwards I went home and napped. I could have slept for hours on end but didn't. Again, F and I had a quiet evening. By Saturday evening the sharpness of my headache had dulled. I went to bed and read until 1 then fell into a deep sleep.
Alice B. Old decided I didn't need to sleep past 5:45. So I got up and enjoyed the morning quiet and no headache. I read, watched the news, did some on-line surfing, had breakfast with the dogs, talked to josh on line and then went out and shopped for groceries.
At noon the Q came over for brunch. F made wonderful blueberry pancakes and scrambled eggs. We had a pot of my favorite New Mexico Pinon coffee and chatted and caught up. As usual, we laughed, reminisced, and ate too much. After a while we moved into the den and settled into lazy boy chairs. The Q and I napped and F farted around with the animals. At 3:30 we left to go to Bruster's for ice cream and then dropped the Q at Andrea's house. It was a really lovely day.
It was fun to be with the Q again. I miss the Q and josh. I miss our weekend get togethers, dinners at each others houses, hours spent giggling in Borders or Barnes & Noble. Having the noodles and teckles all together in one room. But life changes and it's not a bad thing. They certainly seem to be much happier in MD.
F and I enjoy our quiet evenings together and the routine of our lives. We've settled into a comfortable and companionable lifestyle. We want for little, have everything we need, and desire just enough material comforts with our meager means to prioritize and set goals. We both agree that excess money is worth saving for trips rather than acquisitions. Being in the mountains, away from the city, quiet, relaxed, and creative, is worth the wait. We look forward to a time when we can return to the desert in NM and spend time making art and exploring. We'd like to own an RV at retirement time and spend months at a time in places we love.
But that's the future. And having 2 of our closest friends in the same city is the past. And it's ok. Today life is good as it is. It's different, but it's good.
I'm not French. I know next to nothing about French history. Yet every year for the last 32 years I celebrate the now 219 year old French holiday, Bastille Day.
Bastille Day commemorates the storming of the French Prison, which not only held prisoners indicted by the crown for un-appealable offenses, but also was used as an armory. The holiday commemorates what the French believe was the start of the modern French Republic. Kind of like our Boston Tea Party.
Bastille Day coincides with my own day of liberation from the prison of addiction. Thirty-two years ago today I decided I needed to stop drinking. I was a daily drunk at that point. Not working. Unable to work, because of my drinking. Living once again in the nightmare of round the clock intoxication and unmanageability. I had been there before and I knew the scenery well. I never slept the night of the 13th. I drank and drank and drank all day and night and couldn't get drunk enough to forget that what I was doing was futile and that if I kept doing it I was going to relive my past and probably not survive it this time.
I couldn't sleep. I just sat in the home of my most recent drinking buddies, until it was a reasonable time (9 AM) and I could call my friend Betty. Betty was the mother of a friend of mine. Her son Vito and I had been through drug rehab together and Betty and I had also become friends. There was an Italian connection there. Betty was a sober alcoholic. She had been sober about 5 years at the time.
I called Betty and went to her house and told her I needed to get sober. I stayed with her for the first 3 days of my sobriety. I basically detoxed in her home.
Betty took me to my first AA meeting. She told me I never had to have a first day again. She talked to me for hours on end while I couldn't sleep. She refrained from laughing at me when I read the 12 steps and said arrogantly, "I've done all these." She invited her sober friends to her house and we had an AA meeting sitting around her kitchen table. She fed me. Gave me a bed to sleep in, and kept bringing me to meetings. Thanks Betty! If not for you, I'm not so sure I would have been able to get sober 32 years ago. She always told me to just pass it on.
Thirty-two years is a long time to not do something. Because of Betty, the people she introduced me to, and the things I heard in AA meeting rooms ("the rooms"), I know that just because I haven't had a drink in 32 years doesn't mean that I am not an alcoholic anymore. It just means I don't live like an active alcoholic anymore.
It was only last week when the thought of sitting and drinking some wine crossed my mind. It was a month ago, prompted by something I read, that I wondered what it would be like to do LSD now, knowing what I know, and being of sounder mind than I was 40 years ago when I first start doing acid. The thoughts still arise to drink, to smoke pot, to taste heroin or utilize meth to pump up my energy level. They arise and they get batted away almost involuntarily like swatting a mosquito biting my arm or a fly buzzing about my head.
But the thoughts still arise. They always will. A cold beer on a hot day, or at the ballgame, will always be appealing. Because of that I remain diligent in my adherence to practices I learned in early sobriety. No eating food cooked with alcohol. No using mouth wash with alcohol, or tooth paste with alcohol, or other ingestible products made with alcohol. I do no recreational anesthetizing, no matter how good the thought of that may be at times. No erosion of the practices I established to get sober. That has been my commitment.
So today I celebrate another 365 24-hour periods of continuous sobriety. I celebrate silently all day long. I pat myself on the back for a job well done, again, this day, the only day that I have to make my continued sobriety a reality. I'll feel good about it all damn day.
Barack at Risk is an interesting commentary by Tom Hayden in this week's The Nation.
It Was Oil, All Along by Bill Moyers and Michael Winship.
I had a strange but very nice 3 day weekend. It was strange because I was clearly still in vacation mode. My brain was just not engaged with what my body needed to be doing. I misplaced my wallet, my cell phone, my eye glasses, my book, my mala beads. So many things.
Fryday I was a total slug. I don’t think I left the house at all. I was like a lump on the couch, a small part of my mind scanning the web, a smaller part listening to the TV, the largest part completely spaced out. I had a wonderful nap as well. I probably could have had 2 or 3 naps, but didn't.
Saturday I got up early and went to sangha. Afterwards, I went to pick up JuJu, but while on the phone with Lori, drove way past the turn and wound up down by NAS Jax. After the u-turn, I stopped to see Taylor, as I was driving past Caffeino anyway. I got a mango smoothie that was so cold it made my forehead and the base of my skull hurt! But it was delicious. It kept me conscious enough to drive safely to pick up Julian.
I successfully picked up Julian and we went to The Loop for lunch. At that time I had no idea where my wallet was and I had a mere $17 for us both to have lunch. I had a bowl of tomato bisque soup and Ju had....., whatever he had. It came to $16 something because I had coins left over. After lunch we went home. Ju hung out with F in the den and I went to bed for a nap. I slept 3 hours. When I got up Ju and I watched the end of the NYY/BOS game. Yankees won!!!! Then I made dinner. We all chatted and ate and at about 8 pm we went to Bruester’s for an ice cream cone and then took Julian home. What an exciting day!
Yesterday I was a little more functional, physically. Still not too connected. At noon I went to visit my cousin and Aunt and Uncle who were in Jax visiting other family. I love them all and rarely get to see them. My cousins' daughter is almost 6 (!) and just the most adorable little girl. Around 3 pm I came back and picked up F. We went to Borders for a short while, as we hadn’t been in quite a while.
Afterwards we were scheduled to meet Shannon, Lori and Dwight at Vito's. We were in Borders and I had no idea what time it was. My watch has a dead battery and I could not find my cell phone. Finally, F received a call from Lori telling us that Vito's was closed, as were most of the restaurants in the area due to electrical outages. By then it was storming, with rain and lots of lightening. We decided to see if there was a Japanese restaurant open near Bay Meadows and Southside, and actually found an Italian Restaurant called Guiliana's open. We made calls to all parties concerned and met there for dinner It was a nice restaurant, comfortable and the food was very good. We all enjoyed it.
F had brought with us gifts for Shannon's birthday, which was on the 28th, and (I thought) I had a gift for Lori and Dwight, thanking them for house sitting. Of course, I had forgotten it. I had laid it on my backpack (so I wouldn't forget it) before we left the house, but had absently moved it so I could get my backpack. DUH!!
Ok, I'm tired of this now. Time to get back to function mode. I have to work, and function, and not make mindless mistakes. No more pretending that I can just go away internally as well as physically. I need to pay attention. But it's so hard. I'm so relaxed. I'm so relaxed that for the first days after vacation started my neck hurt. My shoulders had lowered about 4 -5 inches and the stretching of my neck muscles was painful. F said I look stoned and have a far off look in my eyes. I just feel relaxed.
Later
Okey, dokey. Apparently I saved this post this morning but never published it. So the malaise continues. It's going to be a long day!!
Things are getting tight. Money tight. Not just for us, but for everyone. I see it everywhere. The last few times I was at Publix I noticed prices were higher, and lines at checkout were shorter. While we were in NC prices were outrageous. But when we came home we found that prices here in Jacksonville had also increased.
The other day I bought 5.8 gallons of gas for $24.99. That will get me about 120 miles. Glad I don't have my old job anymore where I traveled around to the counties, some days traveling well over 100 miles. There is no way I could afford doing that today.
I sound like an old fart, I know. Talking about rising prices. F and I sit and watch TV and are amazed when people use the word fart on television, or commercials that target men with "weak streams" and erectile dysfunction. We hear ourselves talking about how no one values anything any more, how we live in a disposable society and how wrong that is. Just 2 old farts, not adjusting to change.
Every generation has moved into that behavior as they approached 60, 70, 80 years old. The world changes faster than we can adjust to it. I know I have gotten to the point where computers are the outer limits of my technological expertise. I wouldn't know what to do with an iPod or any of the new kind of cell phones. I don't have a camera on my cell phone. That's not what phones are for. At least not for me.
Speaking of change, I had an epiphany while on vacation. F and I were driving and passed a big truck on the road. I was in the passenger seat and as I turned to look at the truck we were passing I noticed pig snouts sticking out between the slats of the truck. Many, many pig snouts. They were jammed in there like the Jews put in cattle cars to Auschwitz. That is the image that came into my mind. I realized that they were being sent to slaughter in the same way the Jews were, and that it was also horrific, even though they were animals and not humans.
It hit me like a brick that I am a participant in that brutality regardless of how removed I am from the process. I can stare at "meat products" wrapped in cellophane on a shelf in the supermarket and not feel any more connection to the process than I do to the process of growing a tomato when I buy those. But I am connected to the process of both of those products merely by consuming them.
I felt sick from the sight of the pigs and decided that I would commit to vegetarianism. This is something I have thought about for quite awhile. For years in fact. I have never felt ok about eating meat again, but I have done it with gusto at times. Each time, discarding the thoughts of how wrong it is. Last December, H.H. Karmapa came out with a statement on meat eating, promoting vegetarianism and encouraging practitioners to stop eating meat. It has been on my mind daily since I read his comments about it. I am now ready to commit to it.
Being vegetarian is something I did for 10 years. I liked it and didn't have a hard time with it. It takes more work preparing foods and more thought to make sure meals are balanced and that there is enough protein. When I lived in NY it was easier in many ways because fresh made tofu was so readily available. I have not been able to find 1 single vendor here who sells fresh tofu. That is the best source of protein for vegetarians, and for me, since I can't eat rice too much. But I will focus on it and do everything I can to be make this transition successful.
I love national holidays. They don't exclude anyone living in America. Everyone who is on American soil on a national holiday can participate. There is no exclusion based on religion, creed, race or nationality. Independence day is a particularly good holiday to me. There are no expectations for it. It's a day off. It's a day we usually spend at home. No expectations. No stress to be happy or festive or celebratory. A day to do whatever the hell we please to do. And I am happy to do just that. 
I returned to work after a 12 day vacation. When I have a good vacation I am always happy to come back to my job. I love my job, enjoy my co-workers, and feel like what I do adds depth and meaning to my life. So, while I can't wait to be retired, as long as I "have" to work, I am so grateful to be doing that here. Two days of work this week and now a 3 day weekend. Life is grand!
Today is our last day at the cottage. It's been a lovely week. Yesterday we decided to have another in day and did not venture out in the car at all. I enjoyed the in days as much as I enjoyed the days we went out and did things. I'm happy that F and I both recognized the need to do that and didn't push ourselves to do things just "because."
While inside I watched TV, wrote in my journal, read more of 13 Moons (loving it) took a nap, packed some stuff and loaded it in the car, spent several hours on the porch with F reading aloud, reading quietly, watching birds and listening to thunder echoing throughout the mountains. It was lovely time spent together.
Afterwards, I made us a dinner of fresh sliced tomato salad and blueberry pancakes made with rice flour. MMMMM. Delicious! F and I have shared the cooking and cleaning during the week. No one of us was burdened with the chores of daily living. It's been a very nice balance.
We have mostly stayed away from the news on TV. I have no interest in the presidential campaign at this point. I will not be watching every speech and every sound bite for the next 5 months. I will tune in again about 2 weeks before election day and make a decision then. I just don't want to deal with all the spin in the media. Here's a photo of F expressing her feelings. She's not an enthusiastic Obama supporter, but she is enthusiastically against McCain
Today we will make our way down to Greenville, SC. We will visit the sight of Todd's death. Frankye wants to mark the site with a stone. Then we will go to the cemetary and see his headstone for the first time. We'll be staying at a motel, coincidentally the same one we stayed in when we were in Greenville for Todd's funeral. This will be the hard part of the trip for F. That and having lunch with her daughter-in-law and her new husband. F was just told that Todd's youngest son, Jake, who is serving in the Air Force, and was in boot camp when his father died on his birthday, just received orders to go to Iraq. His company will be deploying this September. We knew this was inevitable but dreaded it.
That's all the news fit to print today.
This has been one of the more restful and rich vacations F and I have ever been on. Our stay here in Weaverville has been quiet and slow paced. We spent two days (Sunday and Tuesday) just hanging around the house napping, watching tv, reading, napping again. We didn't turn on the computer until Wednesday evening.
We've sat out on the porch like two old farts, eating berries, reading aloud teachings from the Heart Advice of the Karmapa. The teachings are clear and concise and it is apparent His Holiness has strong feelings and opinions about living dharma in the modern world.
Wednesday we went to Cherokee. We had originally intended to gamble, but once there
preferred to spend our time at the Museum of the Cherokee Indian. It's a wonderful museum tracing the Cherokee on this continent from 11,000 B.C.E. to just after their removal from native lands via the trail of tears. It's very well done with dioramas, films, voice over exhibits and authentic costumes, tools and weapons. As we entered the museum we were greeted by an elderly Cherokee native who struck up a conversation with F (of course). Turns out he is the Cherokee on the brochures and is a member of the Wolf Clan of Cherokees. Unsolicited, he autographed a museum brochure with his photo on the cover and gave it to F.
Yesterday we spent a rainy day in downtown Asheville. We browsed a used bookstore, had cappuccino and a bagel at Izzy's coffee house, and spent a little more time at Malaprop's, where we had ano
ther cup of coffee and chatted. I bought 3 books, 2 by a local mystery writer named Sallie Bissell, and Thirteen Moons by Charles Frazier. We decided to take the scenic route back to Weaverville and came across a lovely park along French Broad River. It had stopped raining by then and we walked down to the river to explore a little. There were a number of families in the park, wading in the river, picnicking, and fishing. An older man with 2 generations with him came over and chatted with us for a short while. He's a native of the area and talked about how much cleaner the river is now than it was 25 years ago. Unfortunately, this is a typical story in America. We have trashed this continent and it's really a shame, because it is so beautiful. We took several photos of the river, each other and a close-up of us. F picked berries from a tree and enjoyed them. We made our way back to the cottage and sat on the porch watching the hummingbirds and finches feed. Another lovely day.
I slept very well last night. Probably the best sleep I've had in over a week. I woke at 5:30 and quietly rattled around a bit. I made myself a cup of coffee and went on line. We have high speed in this motel and there are a number of websites I have wanted to visit. I downloaded a number of them very rapidly for later reading at the cottage. We will have rudimentary AOL dial-up service there and I'm not even sure yet if it will be a toll call. Having webpages already on my computer will give me an opportunity to catch up on some of my favorite or new blogs.
About 8 am I went downstairs and got breakfast for F and I. I made her a fresh waffle and myself a toasted bagel. We each had a hard boiled egg and 2 cups of coffee. It was delicious.
After breakfast I read aloud a teaching from Heart Advice of the Kamapa, a book of teachings given by H.H. the 17th Karmapa that was published on the occassion of his first visit to America. The teaching was on the essence of Buddhism and is quite good. F and I had a nice discussion about it afterward.
I read a little more, wrote in my journal and have now written this blog. I'm about to wake F up from her post-prandial nap and we will get up and out. We will be traveling about a half hour to Boone to attend the Boone in June art manufacturers fair sponsored each year by Cheap Joe. Afterwards we will make our way to Weaverville and to our rented cottage. I will post more during the course of our vacation.
I began vacation on Thursday. F and I had plans to leave Jax between 8 - 10 a.m. The time came and went. This time it wasn't F. It was me. As I have been writing here and in my journal, I have been exhausted. All week F and I went to work, did work around the house and needed chores all in anticipation of hitting the road on Thursday morning. When it came, I couldn't do it.
Tuesday morning my father was admitted to the hospital again. This time in anticipation of sx to remove malignant tumors from his prostate. The sx was scheduled for Thursday afternoon. It took me the afternoon of Thursday to realize that the reason I was dragging my feet on leaving Jax was that I couldn't stand to add another mile to the distance between my father and me. I live 330 miles north of him and the thought of going another 450 miles away was just undoable. I needed to wait for the sx results and know that he was ok before I could leave home. F was patient and understanding throughout the day. The dogs were most grateful to have been given a reprieve. As was Lori.
With dad's sx successful and behind him F and I loaded up and pulled out of the driveway at 8:45 am this morning. We had a very uneventful and pleasant trip through Ga, SC and into NC. In the course of it my shoulders lowered, my neck untensed, and my mind slowed down. I am on vacation!
We arrived in Hickory NC at 5:15pm. Several weeks ago we had made arrangements to meet Ken & Jerry at Olive Garden in Hickory on Friday. Had we arrived on Thursday as planned it would have been a half hour drive from our hotel. It was a one hour+ drive for K & J from their home in Winston-Salem. We got to the restaurant 3 minutes before the scheduled time. We had travelled 433 miles and we were on time! Had we left on Thursday, and traveled to Hickory from Lenoir, we would probably have been late. I'm sure of it.
We had a wonderful, but too short 2 hours with K & J. They both look TERRIFIC. We laughed, reminisced, dished, and shared about our current lives. They seem very happy with their life in W-S, their cats, and their lives together. We parted promising to visit them in W-S next trip.
We made our way to Lenoir and checked into our one night stay motel. We were settled in for the evening before dark. And my father had a good day too!
It's Sunday of the week we leave for vacation. Hopefully, Thursday morning by this time, we will be passing into SC from GA. Can't wait.
The first part of our trip will take us to Lenoir, NC, arriving before dusk on Thursday. Just south of Boone, it is close enough to spend only a half hour traveling to Boone for Cheap Joe's Boone in June Trade Show on Saturday. Friday we will tool around the area taking in the mountains and the sights. Friday night we plan to meet friends in Hickory for dinner.
After Boone in June, we will head west to Asheville for the next and largest part of our trip. We will spend 8 days in Weaverville, just north of Asheville, where we have rented a small 1 bedroom cottage. While we plan to do some outings, we also plan to stay very close to the cottage resting, reading, doing Buddhist practice and artwork, and watching DVDs. There is a phone with local access but we won't know if we will be able to log onto the internet from there. We've already been told by the owner that cell phone receptivity there is rare if at all. I hope to have internet access while away so I can post pictures and tales of our time in the mountains.
The last part of our trip is a somber pilgrimage. We will go to SC for 2 days and visit the location of Todd's death and go to the cemetery to view his headstone for the first time. Seeing his name and his birth and death date chiseled into stone is the very last part of the process of letting go of Todd. It's already been 2 years. It goes fast. We will visit with Todd's widow and her new husband, then return to Jax on July 1st.
I need this time away like I haven't needed a vacation in a long time. For the last 5 years I have taken vacation in late March - early April. I am feeling the fatique of the extra 2 months of work without vacation. I'm tired and really need a break. I love the area we're going to. The mountains roll over my consciousness and soul in a way that refreshes me. When I lived in NYC I vacationed every year in S.Florida. That is where I went to wash away the stress and strain of my daily life. Now that I live in FL I seek out the mountains of NC for restoration. I love it there. The air, the beauty of the mountains, the sky, the people, the sound of no sound.
But the trip is not today. It is not until the end of the week. And there is much to do here now.
Today is my Pooper's birthday. She is 37 YEARS OOOOOOOOOLLLLDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh my, how and when did that happen. I love you and miss you Clio! Happy Birthday, baby.
Lots going on in this past week. Busy like crazy at work. Nothing new about that. I am enjoying working with my boss JD. We worked together in the past for about 4 years and are once again in an easy relationship. A job opened last week in my former dept. and I opted not to apply for it. I will stay where I am and continue trying to contribute something worthwhile to this project.
Frankye came home after a 17 day trip to Annapolis. While all creatos in the house missed her, we had gotten into a routine of day to day activity that was quiet and pleasant. However, if one were sensitive, one could have gotten offended when every being in the house, including spiders and bugs, RAN TO THE DOOR at top speed the moment they heard her voice. I heard them, under their breath, screaming in a whisper....she's home, she's home, she's home!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank God, it's over!
The other thing that happened is my father was diagnosed with a tumor in his prostate. Not so unusual in a 78 year old man. Last week he had a biopsy and a procedure to remove the tumor, regardless if it was malignant or not, was scheduled for this week. As the week wore on, he began to lose his appetite, he got weak, and was urinating like crazy. By Saturday, he was so dizzy and dehydrated that he fell while bringing laundry in. He hit his head and couldn't get up. He refused to allow my mother to call the EMS. Instead she called my brother and nephews. They were there in a flash and were able to get him up. If it had to happen, I'm glad it happened on a Saturday when they were home.
Once my dad was up and tended to, my mother called my dad's doctor and the doctor spoke to my father and insisted he be taken to the hospital. He entered through the ER on Saturday. He had developed an infection from the biopsy, became dehydrated, his blood pressure went into the basement, and his heart rate became very elevated. His infection is being treated IV, his bp is getting better, but his heart rate has not slowed down. He is feeling better, has the energy to be agitated about the culture and schedule of hospital life, but hasn't gotten any indication of when he may be returning home. Not sure if they will keep him in and do the tumor removal while he is in the hospital or not.
I feel as though my parents have turned a corner. They have turned the corner of vulnerability, of aging to the point of increased frailty, not so much in their ability to be mobile, but in their ability to recover from accidents and illness. My mother has been home alone since my dad is in the hospital. She hasn't wanted anyone to come over and stay with her. I know she is scared. She hasn't been sleeping well. She is anxious about losing my father. She is anxious and when she is anxious she cleans. She tells me on the phone that she is cleaning to prepare for my father's return. A nice sentiment, but the house is not now, nor is it ever, not clean.
I'm frightened too. I'm frightened for them both. I'm frightened for the one who is left. Whichever one it is, will have a rough time of it. I know they both think of death. They both know it is coming. They have made arrangements, and have set up everything in our names jointly with theirs. That works really well if they go together. I don’t think that I, my siblings, or either of them are prepared for a long protracted illness for either of them. How do you do that? Other than knowing the possibilities, how do you gracefully prepare for that inevitability?
My mother is the matriarch of her family. She is the oldest of her generation. Three of her female cousins have died in the past 4 years. Two were in the their 50’s and one was 68 when she died this past year. My father is the patriarch of his family. He is the oldest male. He lost his eldest brother (and closest friend) in 1980. He just recently lost an elder sister. He has 3 other siblings alive, only one older than he. It is their time. They know it more than I do. As I am aware of my own aging in ways others do not yet detect in me.
This has been my week. I've had 3 joys in my week: watching the visit of H.H. Karmapa from afar; the return of Frankye safe and sound; and the news that my nephew Joseph and wife Karen are expecting their 2nd child!
I've been reading a really good book. The kind of book you want to savor. I read every word, and sometimes over and over.
The book is The Snow Leopard by Peter Matthiessen. It is a day by day account of his on foot journey through Nepal and Tibet. He describes in beautiful detail the flora, fauna, and animals he encounters. But it's his own inner journey, his own yearning to uncover his core being that is so riveting.
It's the kind of book that has me question my own intelligence, depth, sincerity, and the value of my life as I've lived it so far. I can't help but think of how I wasted years of opportunity and roads not taken because of self-doubt, fear, and concern for what others think.
I had my own "walking tour" in 1972. After fleeing a drug rehab I hitched and walked through the south. It lasted a little over 2 months. It changed my life. I could not have returned to rehab and recovered from drug addiction had I not been on that journey. I would not be sober over 3 decades had I not been on that journey. It is what I saw, what I felt, the values and traditions I grew up with that I questioned for the the first time in my life. Once I questioned the narrow parameters of the Italian Catholic traditions and values I was raised in, I was able to expand my interest in the world. 
Unfortunately, it took me long past my physical capability to lose the fear that kept me locked into the "place" I have existed in. As much of an eye opener and "aha" it was to leave the city and wander out into the other America, it would have been so much more had I actually left America and taken a walk on another continent. This is the lost opportunity I refer to.
For many years after my own local trek, I was physically strong and capable of such an undertaking. I was sober. I was unencumbered by a home, a relationship, a desire for physical comforts. What I lacked was courage to act on it. I lacked true desire. I lacked cognisance of emotional and mental growth, and maturity. I lacked confidence in my intellect and inner strength. I allowed fear to rule the decisions I made about my life. Fear of the unknown. Fear of living too much out of the mainstream. Fear of getting lost - irretrievably lost. Fear of dying before I even knew I was alive.
Being alive is a process of dying. Each moment dies as we live it, and we can only know what we lived from a look back perspective. Everything I know is the past. I know absolutely nothing else.
There's a wonderful little chapter in Matthiessen's book about his 8 year old son. He recounts observing his child in a moment of oneness with his environment. He attaches the observation of his child to his own yearning for presence as participant in the world. We humans tend to observe from offstage, even when we might be center stage. The only way to live is to not watch myself living.
I know that I don't need to walk another continent. I know that I did it the way I did it because that was the way I could do it. I know that I can achieve presence anywhere, anytime. I know that I achieve this every single day, if only when I am sleeping. I know that I have a desire to continue on this path. Not just for this life but for all subsequent lives.
It is nice to read how someone else has done their inner journey. I highly recommend this book to anyone who questions the value of their own life. AND it's also just a beautifully written book.
I sent an email with this message to the Democratic National Committee this morning:
My commitment to the Democratic Party is this: If the Rules Committee does not seat every delegate from the FL Primary I will NOT vote in the Presidential election in November.
It is my commitment to the Democratic Party that causes me to refuse to allow it to be as reckless and as disregarding to the America voting process as the Republican party is.
Anything less than seating ALL delegates undermines and punishes the voters. If you do not want and count my vote in the primary, you can not have it in the general election.
