If the sun refused to shine

If the sun refused to shine, I would still be loving you.
When mountains crumble to the sea, there will still be you and me.

Kind woman, I give you my all, Kind woman, nothing more.

Little drops of rain whisper of the pain, tears of loves lost in the days gone by.
My love is strong, with you there is no wrong,
together we shall go until we die. My, my, my.
An inspiration is what you are to me, inspiration, look… see.

And so today, my world it smiles, your hand in mine, we walk the miles,
Thanks to you it will be done, for you to me are the only one.
Happiness, no more be sad, happiness….I’m glad.
If the sun refused to shine, I would still be loving you.
When mountains crumble to the sea, there will still be you and me.

It is a grey day, a grey day, I am cold in my sweatshirt, the weather promised to be warm, I am cold it is a grey day.

The lake is black, black lake, geese dot the edges flapping their wings, bathing, bathing in the black black lake.

 I walk alone, always, always, I take the high road, the road less travelled, I take it slow, savoring it, the dog walks ahead, not stopping to wait for me.  I walk alone always.

The hill is not so steep today, two men stop and wait for me to pass, a son my age and his dad, they say hello and I reply, I realize it was gentlemanly for them to wait on the narrow path I call out my gratitude,  the hill it is not so steep today not so steep.

I piss on myself, too much coffee, too much salt, I squat in a low spot behind a tree, I stand up and noticed my wet pant leg, like I have never done this before, I piss on myself, too much coffee.

I scramble, I scramble, up pulpit rock, and then I stop and kneel down to pray.  Please God please God just nod if you can hear me, I scramble up this rock.

I take the long way home.  I miss the turn, I find the path I have not yet walked on.  I see now I will walk it again, the dog likes it too.  I take the long way home.

I stop on the cliff edge, I look down, the dog gingerly walks along the edge watching the squirrels below, I stop on the cliff edge.

It was supposed to be sunny today, it is not, it is a grey day, a grey, grey day.  I begin to channel Led Zeppelin.

Don’t forget the means….

Close up

Is this an Ent?

I always get trapped in this crazy place of not doing what I need to do to keep myself cool…to keep myself at ease in my own skin.  I need to walk, I need to be outdoors, I need to mediatate, do yoga,  read, listen to music, eat wholesome food and make art.  Every day.  Every day. Every day.

Oh oh oh

Angry…let me rant….why do you bother?  what do you want? why the F. do you even care?  Oh really?  oh and why not?  and who the F. do you think you are….who am i talking to and why do I even care.  I don’t that is it really, I don’t care.  My mind goes back always to Dick and Karen…and I want that…oh I so want that.  That love of years and years, love that survives, thrives, and stimulates.  Interest in each other….love…oh….F. it all.  why do I even bother, what is it that I really want and why the F. go I even care.  Really and Why not?  Who the F. do I think I am.  Ah yes i see to whom I am speaking. 

I run through the woods, leaping up and down rocks and reveling in the dog, watching his mind figure out how to get up this cliff face and down that.  You can see his mind thinking, watch him turn back and try again.  I love it.  The pleasure of a mind that has intellect.  And he is just a dog…and he is willing to try what i want to do, just to be with me. imagine. F. F. F.

I run chasing him.  catch him and squeeze his butt.  He stops, pretending to sniff something and then chases me running full out up the rocky path feet thundering.  I tear or strain a calf muscle….ouch.  Still hurts but I walked another mile or more working it through. 

I take Morgan out, the restaurant is closed.  We go to EMS and then to LL Bean.  She buys me gifts and hides them behind her back.  I buy her chocolate and buy little Jaden a cute designer outfit.  We walk back and forth across the parking lot in the brisk chill wind.  We eat our sushi, she sitting on the bench beside me, sipping hot green tea from coarse ceramic mugs, teasing each other and laughing.  I get up and run to the car with a piece of sweet potato tempura, which Morgan actually eats.  I feed it to the dog and he wags his tail happily.  I run back in to eat my crunchy spicey treat.  Dressed like a bum.  Happy as F.

Home again home again higgledy pig.  Listening to something B. sent me.  He is so freaking cool, I just want to hang with him and read his 3-5 daily emails art, politics, religion, music, bullshit…. so dumb…why do I bother, why the F. do I care… ah yes I can see it….i guess it does matter. 

oh oh oh…thanks for letting me rant

Contemplation

I walk slowly today, not sure I want to hurry.  It is warm and sunny especially for a November day.  I stop to sit on the rock overlooking the long scar where the power lines are, I look below me to the marsh and wasteland of torn down trees.  I can hear the lines buzzing with electricity.  I sit for a long time, trying to meditate.  The sheer volume of people with children and with dogs make it impossible.  I sit for a long time thinking about my life circumstances.  I come up with nothing but uncertainty.  I send a text to Will thanking him for advice he gave me, several to Morgan trying to explain why it is I don’t know what I want her to order from the Chinese menu, I am in the middle of the woods, all I can think of is lo mein and eggrolls.  I text an old but estranged friend, that does not go particularly well.  I text a new friend making a joke.  But I don’t feel very funny right now.   I should have just meditated.  I sit a while longer and notice that it has become quite cloudy and I am faintly concerned that it will rain before I get back to the car.  At pulpit rock I pass two old hippies grey but natural and carefree who greet the dog before they greet me.  I grin as I warn them that I am letting him off leash to make his own way up the hill.  The ZZ Top bearded man says ”that sounds about right”.  I smile all the way up the hill.   By the time I get to the car my melancholy has passed and my soul is deep in thought.  I accept this moment.  I accept it all.

Root Canal

I sit in the dentist chair, eyes closed my mouth completely covered in some surgical apparatus.  The sharp sting of novocaine still biting my cheek.  I breathe deep and slow, feeling my heart beat strong steady.  I find myself clenching my right hand and release it.  The dentist has left me here for a moment while he checks another patient.  I realize that at this moment I am fully present.  I am right here right now.  I allow my mind to wander a bit, the smell of a man’s cologne, the warmth of a man’s body, the caress of a man’s hands, the soft whisper of a kiss, fantasizing but for an instant, just to see what it is like to not be present, to be elsewhere dreaming, and wishing.  I return to the chair, the smell of burning bone and the tingle on my lips and the warm heavy weight of the lead apron on my legs.  Yes dear I am right here.  Waiting for you, and here I remain each second that passes fully present.  Later there is a solid pressure in my head, this cavity was a long time coming, missed somehow for years.  My tooth was alive, but the size of the cavity required more intense work.  I still feel numb sometimes, and the pressure is heavy on me, but the moments that pass are light and full of love.  When I forget and find my self wound, and rotting, I just have to breath deep and return to this place.  Here, now.

 

A paradox

I am dreamy today in a way that is a quarter joy, a quarter  melancholy, one quarter sleepiness one quarter feeling wide awake.  My emotions are dark and clouded, although the day is clear and warm and bright. It is slick and I nearly take a dive down the steps as my foot slides out from under me.  Geese are scattered all over the glassy water, they honk in the startlingly brilliant sunlight.  The rains over the last few days have left the mucky swampy area in crystal pools reflecting the light that blazes down through the bare trees.  I feel like this swamp, murky, muddy and yet crystal clear and reflecting all that is around me, still and yet fetid, fecund, alive and yet on the edge of dormancy.  I am over dressed and soon have to remove my light hooded jacket, and am still warm.  There are many people here today, to soak up the last rays of sun and warmth before the cold sets in.  It is unusual for me to be here so early, but a cancellation of yoga and the hope of hitting the buffet at India House has me out now, my laundry on the line at home, the dishwasher started and the cat boxes cleaned, I need to vacuum but vacuuming is for snow days.  At least this is what I tell myself. 

The path is clearly delineated in the warmer months but the leaves and brush are cleared and I can see far into the forest the leaves that are scattered everywhere obscuring my path.   Because of this I can see a giant paper wasp nest hanging in the tree tops, I had walked here a couple dozen times but never noticed it less than fifteen feet from the path. I think I need to actually remember to bring my epipen with me.  

An older woman who speaks English poorly askes where is the parking and I point her the way, she is lost and follows me out, waiting for me as the dog stops or I do.  In the lot she thanks me and waves. 

As I leave I narrowly miss being hit in a head on collision, I swerve tightly onto the grass as I swear loudly and notice it is a coworker.  Great. Stupid person should have kept to her side of the road.

I am sleepy, I want to dream.  I knit on the front steps, cold coffee, pink cheeks.  Dozing like a cat in the sun.

Rolling Stone

No, you can’t always get what you want
You can’t always get what you want
You can’t always get what you want
And if you try sometime you find
You get what you need

Trust

I went to Clark Reservation today but it was closed.  Since I had already promised the dog a walk, I went instead to Green Lakes.  I don’t ever – really ever talk on the phone when I am walking, but today I called a friend to talk.  At one point while I was talking and walking I stopped and noticed how quiet it all was there, how still the waters, how at peace the world was.  I continued to talk though because the converstion was deep and meaningful, and my friend had much to say that helped me with this idea that I am struggling with.  Trust.  Or in my case the inability to trust. 

The first person I called was my cousin and he was working.  He sounded tired and I felt like he only answered the phone because it was me…he is good to me always.  I trust him.  There is no doubt.   His steady enduring love for me, and shared history and shared upbringing, has a depth of meaning that is precious to us both.  Familial love, the understanding of our genetics and of our nutured lives intermingling with our own struggles and joys.  I love his hugs, the almost fatherly kiss to the forehead and his saucey self. 

The next person I call answers so warmly, I can hear the smile of love and happiness in his voice.  That is a thing I can trust, this voice, this love.  He tells me that I have to take care of my self, nuture myself and love myself.  He tells me that I have to understand that I am not alone.  He tells me that betrayal, has had a profound impact on my life and to feel a lack of trust is to be expected.  I cannot put words to what we discussed, and mostly I just listened.  A jogger went by me and berated me for having the cell phone to my ear, even though I was saying mostly quiet Yes that is right, and I cannot talk about that (all teary) and Um Hm’s.  I am usaully like the jogger, so judgemental.  But I needed this piece for my peace of mind tonight.  About halfway around the second lake I realized I had misjudged the time and I ended my conversation.  I walked back quickly in the deepening darkness.  Before hanging up he admonished me to be careful, to call him when I returned to the car.  I am not usually one to walk in such a remote place so late in the evening. 

I text him, wow it got dark fast, he says, are you okay sweetie, yes i write TU, he comments, ah go on…I put in my own words go on honey, your love is special to me, I care about you and don’t want anything else to happen to you.  His words, and how he was one of the only ones who got my grief right.  Who instead of shoving me and pulling me and pushing me to feel right as rain, let his tears fall along with mine adding to the deluge.  Although others that I love were in the background rightly worried, and still others said and still say horrible things that rend me and scratch me, it is these two people whom I turn to.  I remember how I needed that strong masculine energy early on.  How I turned to the memory of my father and the man that he was.  And I remember how this friend cried and cried for over an hour with me as I sat in front of my daughter’s friend’s house.  When she finally got in the car, my daughter asked how long I had been there and noting my tears asked if I was okay.  I love him so much I said, I love my friends so much.   My heart breaks with joy from this love of his.  And when he is hurting, I cry too.  And I cry now for all the heartache he has shared with me.  Because we are really good friends, we tell each other things that we probably shouldn’t but do anyway.  And I love him for his warm strong arms, his warm masculine scent and his saucey mouth. 

I know I am not alone.  That is something I do trust.

Serenity

I find so much solace, serenity and peace at the Zen Center.  Really the more time I spend there the deeper I feel a profound and abiding peace within my heart.  I have been volunteering for the last five weeks and tonight my teacher.   Was talking about this teaching that is very moving to me.  I actually had tears in my eyes.

1. I am sorry.

2. Please forgive me.

3. Thank you.

4. I love you.

That is everything I have to say.  That is what is in my heart.  Profound.

On my way to the Zen Center I read a bumper sticker.  It said this.  You don’t have to believe everything you think.  The guy whose car it was on is a member of the Zen Center.  I told him I loved that saying and he said cryptically that it is perplexing to some people.  I say it is deeply meaningful.

And on a further note I am blessed, thankful, and lucky.  A new friend graciously and lovingly mulched and cleaned the leaves off of my lawn.  Normally a three-day project that is absolutely arm rending and back-breaking.  This friend also did some maintenance on my power tools too.  And cleaned my gutters.  A heart can be full of joy from the smallest gifts of the heart.

Slippery Slope

On Wednesday night it just poured, and on Thursday at least where I work, it was cloudy but not raining all day.  The weather report called for clearing skies.  I rushed to Clark after work.  I have to say it was really really wet and quite slippery.  The leaves on top of the limestone was treacherous.  I know now that the boots I bought at the outlet mall are really really good boots, because for the most part I managed well.  The place was dead though only a couple cars in the lot at the beginning and end of the hike.  The geese were out in abundance, practicing for their flight, flying low and high in small groups.  Most of the leaves have fallen now too and the views were better than usual despite the dismal grey light.  The tiny trickle of a stream at the end of my walk was full and I could see down into what is usually a dry lake and there was water there.  I am struck again by how healthy this little ecosystem seems to be, at least in comparison to the road scarred wilderness of the city.