Shiny Red Shoes

I needed a pick-me up;  I wanted to reward myself.  I had some very good coupons at a couple of stores that I like.  I did pick up a couple of useful items to add to my wardrobe---to upgrade and replace some ill-fitting pieces.

But what I really wanted was red shoes.  I have been searching the internet for a long time, and I have not seen any red shoes that really speak to my need and desire.  I cannot wear the spiky heel type.  I did find some red ones which were practical and clunky,  which is what I usually wear these days, as a senior citizen with damaged feet.   But those do not satisfy.

At the DSW store, a pair of shiny red shoes caught my eye.  They are really flashy.  I tried them on. To stand there in them did not hurt at all.  To walk around in them might be a different matter.  I figured that I might be able to wear them for an hour---to church perhaps.  I have "bad feet"  (meaning they hurt and most shoes make them hurt more).

But I decided that the bright red shiny shoes cheer me up just to look at them!   So even if I just look at them once a month or perhaps wear them once a year,  that would make me happy!

So I bought the shiny red patent-leather shoes.

They satisfy!

Transitions

Some transitions take a great deal of time.  I think, for instance, of retirement, which is a process. Not only that, it has many stages as well.  First one has to re-imagine their identity.  Then new activities must be found to replace the old routine of work. One slowly becomes more accustomed to leisure activities. Then health issues also bring more stages.  This entire transition can take years.

It takes time to transition into the reality of a Trump presidency, if that is not at all what one imagined that they would ever experience.   At least there are a couple of months before it becomes official. The reality is sinking in, ready or not.

Yesterday was a beautiful fall day.  We have had a number of absolutely gorgeous autumn days this season.   It was 65 degrees.  We did yard work most of the day!

Today winter.  Fierce, ferocious winter.  The only transition was between going to sleep last night and waking up this morning.  The world is covered with white.  It is a gray, black and white world at the moment with ferocious winds whistling about!

At least hubby got snow tires on his vehicle.  That's something.  I did dig my boots out of the closet last night, anticipating snow today.

Still, it is too sudden, too drastic, too bitter.  The good news is, we don't have to go anywhere today or tomorrow, when the weather is also supposed to be dreadful.  We can stay inside, safe and warm.

I have discovered where birds go in the cold of winter since I have started keeping the bird feeder filled.  Whenever I open the door to fill the feeder,  dozens of little birds emerge from the shrubbery below where they apparently live, safe and warm from the elements, the snow blanket, providing warmth below.
             They too can stay inside safe and warm, and come out only to eat!

Prayer Answered, I Guess

In my last post, I prayed for a very clear resolution to the 2016 Election, so that it would not drag on for months and months unresolved.

So in terms of that specific prayer, I guess I have to say that it was answered!

I would also have to say this is one of those times when my prayer was answered, but  I do not like the result that goes with the answer.

I have gone the entire year and a half not making any political comments publicly, either on Facebook or any other social media, or in public settings where I do not know others' beliefs.  I do not care for political confrontations.

But since no one is reading my blog now anyway, because I stopped blogging, I feel free to put it out there in the universe how miserable and unhappy I am about the election of Trump.  My unhappiness is nothing compared to that of illegal immigrants, Muslims, refugee hopefuls, African Americans and the like.

 I have a friend who is so anxious and afraid and suffering terribly, because at least half of her grandchildren are people of color.  Already they have experienced a nasty instance of having people tell them to 'go back to wherever they came from', and of course, they came from America!

Already they are home.  It is just that it does not feel like home at the moment.

May it be a very quick four years, if not less!

Election 2016

I have been saying for the past few months that I am going to spend Election Day on my knees. Admittedly, I have not done that, but I will say that I did not let me feet hit the floor this morning without first being on my knees in prayer for our nation, for myself, for the future, for peace.

This has been a terrifying election, and I do not yet know the results.  I do know how painful it has been.

Of course, I am with Her.  But I do not know how she does it!  I have also been praying for her for days.   Never have I been so vested in any election.  I do not think she is perfect, nor do I believe the negative portrayal that has built up around her over the many years.

At this point in the day, my prayer would be a clear winner,  an unquestionable result, a landslide.  I hope and pray that the election results will not remain in uncertainty for weeks or months.  We have all had enough.

Please Lord, let it be clear and definitive!

Now That I Am Old

Now that I am old
and my body sags and falls and makes deep crevices in my face,
and stares back a stranger, I think with such regret
about all the years I neglected to love my body.

Preoccupied with some imagined flaw of hip or thigh,
obsessed with an ounce, a pound,
shamed by the scale, oblivious, totally unaware
of what I wore upon myself:

A body so beautiful that I should have run
naked through the streets, dancing for joy, celebrating
every pore, every hair, every soft and supple place
of this body I have, the cloak of perfect skin I'm in.

But, alas, I did not celebrate nor run naked;
I did not appreciate or admire;  mostly I hid and fretted
self-consciously about wearing this outer shell,
the body which I was given.

I lived mostly unaware of the treasure that is mine,
as if it were an ill fitting dress, not cut quite right,
here too loose, there, too tight,
When all along, it was perfection.

Now that I am old,
what regret I have that I did not love my body back then.
I try to love it now, and appreciate its capabilities.
It keeps me immune to the dangers that could do me in.

This body produced human beings, and nurtured them,
a miracle, I'd say, to grow a life in such a way.
This body could run and play and bring such pleasure,
back in the day.

It moves a little slower since I have grown so old,
but I am more inclined to love it now, this body of mine.
I can still imagine myself running naked through the meadow,
young and lively, filled with joy at life itself.

I can still imagine, even though I am old.

An Alumni Reunion

Gerry and I usually attend the Reunion Breakfast the first Saturday in June.   I told him this would probably be my last year, since I have been gone for so so long, and I do not feel that I have any real connections any more.

And Gerry retired 21 years ago, so he has also been gone for quite a while.

I did work there from 1978 to 1989 in the Admissions Office of Ag & Life Sciences.   I can always count on a quick greeting from my old colleague Richard, after which, he 'works the room' and greets everyone he knows.

But this particular day brought a couple of reunion surprises.  I had a lovely conversation with Mary Granger who was a colleague in the Admissions Office during my years there.  I think I have probably not seen her since 1989, which would be 27 years ago!! She greeted me warmly.  Just to recognize someone after not having seen them in that long, is quite an accomplishment in itself!

Then when Gerry and I were leaving and almost to the car, a young woman ran up to greet me and give me a big hug!   She has it in her mind that I was instrumental in her Admissions to Cornell.  And because of that, we are Facebook friends.  She is from the Class of 1981, which means I knew her 35 years ago!  She is now on the staff as a representative from California.

So while I  had no expectations of any real connections on this Cornell Reunion weekend,  I was surprised by re-connecting with people from long ago, who seemed to remember me quite well and greeted me warmly.

Who knows?  Maybe I will decide to go again next year, after that unexpected experience!!

Angels

                                                                                                                    

 Some Will Be Angels

Some will be angels

I suppose, when I think of the world of the spirit;

and wonder what spirits will do.

Some may be angels of the guardian kind,

who keep us in line and keep us safe,

when we stray the line, and veer away.

Some may be angel messengers, who deliver

a call, or a promise, which the Lord is sending

to direct our path

toward the destiny intended.

Some angels will be singers, for sure,

for we know there is a choir there,

in eternity—a choir that praises God day and night

for only God is worthy.

(Though there is no night there,

for the Light of Christ fills the place.)

It is not a choir, I shouldn’t think, where

one auditions for alto or bass,

but instead is selected according to one’s love of God

and the steadfastness of our faith.

I long for a part in that Heavenly Host.

That’s what I’d want to do the most,

in the world of the spirit,

when I ponder what spirits do.

Some will be companions, I  imagine,

who guide us across from death to life

in the other space, where spirits dwell.

They take us there so we’re not alone,

and keep us company when we head home.

Some will be angels who walk with us

through the valley of the shadow of death,--

sometimes sending us back,

because it is not our time yet.

Those angels are friends and loved ones,

I am sure; whose love endures,

as they wait for us, to cross that space  

into eternal life.

Where spirits live.

The Saddest Snow

Today the snow came, well into April,

though it has stayed away all winter.

Unwelcome, though it would have

been, at Christmas,

 but not now.

It came down heavily,
this snow abounds-

many inches upon the ground,

where daffodils were growing,

but not now.

Instead it just brings tears,

his because it reminds him of all the things

he cannot do;
and it makes him long to ski;

 mine because of the place I could not go—

an outing, badly needed, snowed away,

and for the happy life I used to know,

but not today.

God Knows

As six weeks roll into seven weeks, and my husband is still struggling with his excruciating pain issues,  more and more is required of me, both in the area of care-giving, as well as in all aspects of care for the home.

I have been pretty much tied closer to home than usual, although I have gone out a few times to lunch with family or friends, as well as grocery shopping, and a few other church related activities.

What helps me most of all is some kind of a diversion.  Family members have come for a visit several times during these past few weeks.   That has really helped in the worst of times.

I have been amazed at the kinds of diversions that have come my way during this time.  First, the pastor of a church in a nearby community asked if I could cover for her one Sunday in April.   Getting to engage my mind and heart and spirit in the thinking, research and writing of a sermon is the very best kind of therapy for me!  Working on writing that sermon was the most enjoyable time I have had in weeks!  Delivering it will be fun for me too!

Then, I got an email from a young pastor I have never met, who wants to take maternity leave for 8 weeks when her baby is born this summer.  I have other commitments and cannot do all of it,  but I did indicate that I could do 4 weeks, should the details all work out.  She has to find someone to do the other four weeks.   That will give me a lot to do and think about.  It is a lively and active church, and by then there will be two services.   It will be a significant challenge, but one I welcome.   I have been totally amazed that these opportunities have come up.  I would say that as a rule, at least on a regular basis, they do not.   A few a year do, but not multiples in a period of weeks!

And then yesterday,  Holy Thursday, before I had even had my shower and gotten dressed, I got a call from our church office, and the secretary there said that the pastor is sick with the flu, and what was I doing tonight?  I agreed that I would cover for him.  That meant looking at the bulletin, and putting together many of the parts of  the service plus writing a sermon!   I did those things and was very pleased with the way it all came together.

I don't usually pat myself on the back,  but I was happy to be the kind of person who could do that on such short notice.  I felt good about myself.

But the thing is, I am fully aware, and totally believe that during these hard times for me, God knows what I need, and what would be most helpful to me.

Strangely, that involves preparing worship services and sermons, which for a long time now, has been my absolute favorite activity.

And so out of the blue, along came multiple chances to do the kind of thing I love most.

Because, quite honestly, God knows!  God knows indeed!

Never Old Before

During the past four weeks, it seems as if all the vagrancies of old age have finally set in!  During those weeks, we have have been dealing with Gerry's sudden onset of pain and sleeplessness, which have been serious enough for him to end up in the hospital in very bad shape.

Before now, he has been very healthy, not taking any meds, physically fit, extremely active, a daily skiier or tennis player, or walker.

Then there was this sudden onset of pain.  Despite a variety of tests,  the medical evidence has not led to a clear answer, diagnosis or specific treatment.    The pain persists, and the insomnia, so we are still in search of answers.   There are medications, but Ger has always been very very sensitive to meds, so our theory is that those really only make things worse.   And they are not a long term answer.

Thankfully, one can read about all sorts of possibilities on the internet.   We have found one that describes perfectly the symptoms, the onset, the sleeplessness, etc.   Idiopathic describes it best. Idiopathic means sudden onset and unique to the individual.

We are still hopeful that a nerve specialist will be able to provide some answers.  It will take time to get connected with the one whose name we have.  Perhaps there will be some kind of localized injection to offer relief.

But the bottom line is,  these things happen when you get older!!  That's what I read in every single description of these symptoms!

Gerry has never been old before, [despite the fact that he is 80] until this suddenly hit.  The tests did show arthritis in the lower spine, but that has probably been there all along.  But the pain is not located there.  It is more on the flank and further up.   It seems like an arthritis problem  would have been more gradual in its arrival, while this was all at once.  There was no injury.  Just pain.

Neither one of us has ever really been old before, or felt limited, or handicapped, or even slowed down.  It is hard to get used to.  That is true for both of us.  But  for him it is a much more complete and sudden and radical change in his life and routine and activity.

The whole episode is a mystery indeed.  I did read one very encouraging word.  This nerve pain which had a sudden onset,  can also have just as sudden a remission.

That is our hope and our prayer!!

May it be so!!

Refugee Thoughts

Recently, I spent many hours with my husband in a cubicle of the emergency room.  He was in excruciating pain, and needed medical attention.   I think it was 1:30 a.m. when we left for the hospital.  He did eventually get help, and strong drugs were used to alleviate the pain, and tests were done.

Of course, these things take time.  Lots of time.  The hours passed.  Gerry got several doses of strong medications until he was more comfortable.  He was sitting in a very comfortable chair, his favorite place to sleep.  He has been unable to lay in bed, due to the side and back pain.   He dozed and sat.  The hours crawled by.  I sat in what was a very cold and hard, uncomfortable chair, in the curtained cubicle of the ER.  Our cubicle was much smaller than the ones pictured above.

They took him to get an MRI.  We waited for a doctor to see if he was going to be sent home or admitted.  At approximately 4:00 in the afternoon, or about 14 hours later,  he was admitted for overnight observation.  Meanwhile,  I sat in the chair hour after hour.  If I lose a night's sleep, I am not in very good shape myself.   I did eventually go home and sleep for a while.

But I devised a way to get through it as the minutes and hours  crept by.  I thought about all the refugees fleeing Syria.  I thought about how hard that would be for them.  And how lucky I was to have a chair to sit on, and  heat to keep me warm, and medical help as needed.  I thought about parents holding their children, unable to go back to the place they had left, uncertain about what would lie ahead.   I thought about them walking across and entire continent, hoping for some help.   Our plight seemed completely insignificant.  I imagined how strained the shoulder muscles would feel from carrying a child, or more than one, without the benefit of a back pack.   I thought refugee thoughts to get me through the night!   The plight of the refugees seemed so hard, so hopeless, so much to endure.  

When I thought of them,  I felt I could get through whatever I needed to there in the emergency room cubicle.

In time,  maybe after a total of 36 hours, we were released to come home. We came home with some things that would provide comfort---like medications and answers.

I doubt if the refugees got either of those.

Elixir of Life

My daughter Lee is on a path of trying to identify the basic nutrients that she needs, so she can create an "elixir of life", or a nutritional potion to substitute for food.  The idea is she could simply drink it and not  bother with the real food process.

 For her, one of the motivating factors was that she does not enjoy all the food related activities such as grocery shopping, cooking, washing dishes, etc.  She finds that stressful!  Her life elixir would be made entirely of soy or protein powders and spices and herbs perhaps, but no actual fruit or vegetables!

She sent me a link to a blogger who basically has the same idea.  It was a well thought out plan.  He focused on the various benefits.   He is a runner and needed to identify how much energy he needed to take in in order to expend the energy needed for running.   One of the benefits is financial.  He gave some information on what the average American spends of food.  This information I found quite fascinating.   I think his exact quote was:  The average American spends $605 a month on groceries, half of which is food.

I was not sure how that might stack up with what Google would say.  As a single male, no doubt half of his $605 a month would have been spent on eating at places other than home.

I did get the hard data from Google,  and then looked at how much we spend on groceries in a month. Very little of ours is spent eating outside the home.  Of course, the amounts given were on a chart with a range, depending on age, and whether one shops the "low budget plan" or the "liberal" plan.

Using that chart, I determined that the two of us (senior citizens) together should be spending approximately $650 a month on food, not counting eating out.   I was pleased to discover, looking back at our expenditures for last year, that we never did reach that total.  In January it was less than $400 a month, while presumably we were eating a lot of leftovers in the freezer from Christmas.  In June, it was over 600 but less than 650.  It was always between the 400 to 600 range.

Anyway, it was an interesting thing to explore and discover.

I wish my daughter well with her elixir experiment.   Occasionally, I do enjoy a smoothie for breakfast.   It is delicious, but not completely satisfying.

After a while, I need crunch, and texture and bread.   Actually, I could probably live on the bread alone, as my elixir of life.

Second Hand Pain

Second hand pain is what one experiences when they watch a loved one suffer excruciating pain.   The second hand pain has within it a sense of helpless,  of not being able to provide relief for the one you love.   It hurts to watch, observe, feel shut out, useless.

I am having this experience at the present time!

So far, my own strategy has been to just let my husband suffer his agony and pretty much stay out of the way!

I have lost track now of how many days it has been that Gerry had been dealing with a combination of muscle spasm, a pinched nerve, and insomnia.  As he says, he can deal with the pain, but not the lack of sleep.   One cannot go for days and weeks without some relief.

Gerry went to the doctor last week, and also to a physical therapist.  The medication offered by the doctor, an anti-inflammatory, has been useless in providing any relief.  The exercises suggested by the physical therapist have not lessened the pain.  Today he has an appointment with his regular doctor (who wasn't there last week).  We hope and pray that they will give him either a muscle relaxer or a sleep aid, and preferably both!!

This makes me think of caregivers, and sometimes what they must go through over a very long period of time, when a loved one suffers.  I have personally observed the long slow journey of Alzheimer's and its devastation,.  In the case of my mother, in time, she just slept.   It seemed like a peaceful sleep. Of course, she was on a variety of medications, but at least she was no longer agitated.

Medication is what I hope we can get for Gerry! Over the counter meds have not touched the pain.  

I am especially concerned about mental and emotional deterioration that comes from insomnia.

I know that this notion of "second hand pain" is nothing compared to the real thing.

But it is not easy.

Different Towns

Today daughter Lee and I drove to (fictional) Centerville to visit other daughter Eve.  The three of us talked somewhat about the differences between the towns in which we live, or have lived.

Lee lives in  (fictional) Maintown, a city which has two different colleges, and all the accompanying students and faculty and support staff.  The academic environment  produces a collection of over-achievers,  highly professional and intellectual people.  It is also trendy, environmentally conscious with a very low rate of unemployment.

Centerville, on the other hand, is in a different county, and the town itself is quite isolated---and hour at least from anywhere else.   There is a higher rate of unemployment, or underemployment, with very few opportunities.  There is a big problem with heroin and meth. (though that is true of everywhere these days).   The educational level is much lower than in Maintown.   Maintown is all about excellence and achievement.  Centerville is more about making do and getting by.  One tends to be primarily Republican, the other primarily Democrat.

I have lived and/or worked in Centerville in the past.   Before retiring and moving to  Cortland, where we now live,  I  lived in a community which was very similar to Centerville, a small isolated town.

I consider the culture of my current city somewhere in between the over-achievers and the making- doers.  The atmosphere is more laid back than Maintown and less cutthroat competitive.

It is fascinating to me how different the personality, culture, opportunities, and character of a town or city can be.

When I think about these things, I realize that I have lived in and/or served churches in the whole range of different kinds of communities.  The area in which I grew up, and the first church I served, were very rural.   I have lived in several small towns, each of which has its own unique characteristics.  I lived in a suburban area, outside of a sizable city.  (It occurs to me that I have never lived out in the country, away from any town).

Cortland is a small city.  It offers many cultural opportunities.  It is a college town, and has lots of faculty and students and sports and a performing arts center.   It is not economically depressed.   It has lots of tennis courts and is close to the ski slopes.

We did not really know anything about its culture until we had lived here a while.  It is clearly just right for us.   We chose it for its convenience and an assortment of other reasons.  We were not at all familiar with its culture or character.

Now that we have lived here a while,  we are very glad that we made this particular choice!

Sleep

Over the years, I have certainly observed  my husband struggle with sleep issues.  In fact, they can be traced back directly to a surgery he had 21 years ago.  After that, there was lots of disturbed, interrupted sleep.  Our theory has been that the insomnia was caused by post-traumatic stress from the surgery.

In the past few years, those issues have resolved themselves somewhat, and while he still does not get 8 hours of sleep all at once,  he was able to get five or six, occasionally.

It has been in the news lately, that one out of three Americans has a sleep disorder of one kind or another, and is unable to get the needed  6 or 7 hours of sleep.

Lately,  Gerry has been suffering muscle spasms in his back, which clamp down on a nerve and cause excruciating pain.  The result of that, of course, is very little sleep.   Lately, I have been more tuned in to the issues related to sleep loss, and have become aware of all the health problems that can cause, from high blood pressure to heart problems.

All of this make me aware of how much of a gift sleep is.  Honestly, until recently, I have been completely unaware of what a tremendous blessing it is to be able to easily go to sleep and sleep all night.  I have that gift and greatly enjoy that blessing.

Since retiring, I have developed exactly the pattern of sleep and wakefulness I always said I wanted. Specifically,  I go to sleep and wake up according to my internal biological clock, without the use of any alarm.  I wake up at exactly the same time every morning, and go to sleep at exactly the same time every night. I sleep soundly.  The length is more than most people need,  but it is what my body wants, given its own ability to choose.

And so I express my great appreciation and deep gratitude for the fairly uncommon ability to go to sleep easily and sleep thoroughly every single night!

My heart goes out to all those who are not so gifted!

Cousin Connection

A few years ago, I decided that I needed to make a trip to Mississippi to re-connect with, and/or visit for the last time, all family members I could locate, though they are few, at this point.  I have two very elderly uncles in poor health there. One was my father's brother, and the other, my mother's brother.   I wanted to see them again, not knowing what the situation might be later.  I had a family dinner gathering with cousins on my father's side of the family.

Somewhere along the way,  I was contacted by a first cousin on my mother's side, the Yarbrough clan.   For whatever reason,  (perhaps since the parents died so early)  the siblings in that family did not visit very much in my recollection as a child.  Anyway,  Cousin Joyce now lives in Baton Rouge.  I told her I was making that trip, and she suggested meeting somewhere in between,  which we did.  We had a lovely visit in Jackson, Mississippi.  I probably had not seen her since I was preteen.

So this time,  when Joyce and her husband were making a trip to Ohio to visit their son,  She contacted me and suggested we meet somewhere in between.   Since they come from the bayou, they were very fearful of driving in anything that slightly resembled snow.

The day we planned to meet, it was 45 degrees, so you can't get much better than that on the first day of February!

Our destination was Erie, Pennsylvania.  It was a four and a half hour drive for us, (one way) and a two and a half drive for them,  at our suggestion, given their fear of winter driving.  Monday, we drove 520 miles in one day and had a nice lunch with Cousin Joyce and her husband Richard.

It was an exhausting day,  but I thought important, since I do not have very many cousins.

I do have some, but I do not know where they are!  On my father's side at least, ours was a family that scattered all over the United States.   I do not think that is so unusual for my generation, who grew up in the 1960's.

A Feminist of Sorts

I would have to say that I have been and am a feminist or sorts.  Not the kind that is radical, or hates men, or wants to be like them.  But the kind that believes in equality between men and women--particularly when it comes to equal pay for the same work. While women may have different strengths to bring to life's table, their value and contributions are in no way less significant than those of men. Also,  I believe firmly that marriage is a partnership of equals, and that the husband and wife are interdependent. Submission is a recipe for disaster in a marriage.

Recently, I was reflecting on all of this as it has to do with money and wealth. What one's relationship is to money is an interesting thing to ponder.  Truthfully, I never had much for most of my life.   When Gerry and I first got married, the fact that I could not bring home a paycheck equal to his really bothered me. It was an emotional stumbling block for me. But it was clear that that was never going to happen. We had had different opportunities and paths in life. I had children and child care issues and all the challenges that brings.

 In some ways, we have a different approach to managing money.  Gerry is the treasurer of our family, we like to joke.  Thankfully, neither of us is a big spender, but we each do feel free to spend money if there is something that might be especially meaningful to us---a cruise, for instance, or expensive ski gear.  We are mostly in agreement when it comes to our relationship with money. Mostly.

Gerry believes that one's savings should at least keep up with inflation, or grow at that rate;  therefore, he wants to earn interest.   I have a different feeling.  I want to protect the money I do have, and do not care one bit whether it earns a penny of interest.   At this point in my life, I do have a little money of my own which I have squirreled away.  It sits in a savings account that makes absolutely no money. Neither does it lose its value.  In the past month, my pension fund  has lost tens of thousands of dollars in value.

But I digress.  What I really wanted to address in this blog was the struggle I originally had when I could not make as much money as my husband.   I did eventually come to terms with all of that, and I now realize the great value of what I  have brought to our lives, our relationship, our family.

I give birth and care and tend.  Like most women, I am the keeper of the family relationships and emotions.  I create a home and a warm place to gather.  I manage the social calendar and the food.  It is hard for me to imagine, really, that life could be worth much without family and loved ones.

I would not necessarily limit family to a biological connection. Family can also be a group of supportive friends, or a congregation, or a softball team---those closest to us who bring joy into our lives, and love us.

Part of my own journey as a feminist is coming around to understanding my own worth---regardless of  my income, or how much money I could contribute to the pot.  Some things of great value cannot be measured by the usual markers of this old world of status or wealth or worldly success.

Earth Is Our Home

Beautiful Home

  Earth is our home,

Beautiful home,

Like no other place,

  we’ve ever found

in outer space.

Earth is our home, beautiful home.

She is spotted with mountains,

how high they rise,

blanketed with oceans

that dance with the tides.

Adorned with valleys

And dressed up with trees.

Creatures and flowers,

Play their part, come and go;

Rise in the spring,

Die with the snow.

They take what they need,

but nothing more,

as it should be, as it should be.

Blessed by the sunlight,

clean and pure;

caressed by the wind,

may Earth endure.

Without poisoning the atmosphere,

wind and sun could sustain us here,

if only we dare; if only we care,

for our mother earth, who gave us birth.

Earth is our mother

Who nurtures and feeds

Who gives us seeds and

 fish and corn.

How we deface her,

unmindful of species,

of life yet unborn.

Earth is our home;

 Our fragile home;

                                              How fragile our home.     


                        
Song Performed at Community Arts Challenge, January 22, 1016  1st Place

A Rhythm to the Days

There is a rhythm to the days now. Now that I am no longer addicted to busyness.

There is peace and pleasure.   Pleasure in that first cup of morning coffee, as I wait for the day to unfold.

I don't need a to-do list to check off items.  The few things I want to do are in my head, and can be arranged or rearranged at will,  regarded or disregarded.  Done now or postponed.

There are, of course, things scheduled on the calendar.  But I protect the space there, so that each square does not fill up and overflow with too many commitments.   My commitment is to life's simple pleasures.

On the calendar the best thing there is lunch with a friend or family member.   This is something that I especially wanted to cultivate in my later years.   While one is raising a complicated family, and trying to meet the demands of a career, or in my case, 24/7 ministry,  there is not enough time to cultivate friendships and nurture relationships.  Now there is time aplenty.

 There are occasional meetings and responsibilities, but I try to keep those to a minimum.  The thing that brings the most joy is being creative.  Mostly that has to do with words.  The words are likely to be lyrics for a song to come.  Or a poem to submit to a poetry competition.  Or an occasional sermon.

I think the reason I stopped writing this blog is that it stopped being a joy and began to feel like a duty, an obligation.  And so, I felt, it had run its course.

I like projects, especially ones that have a beginning and an end point, rather than something open-ended, that constantly repeats, year after year, endlessly.   I have spent many happy hours planning trips, itineraries, doing arrangements, and making a travel  plan.

At the moment, I am working on  lessons for an Adult Sunday School class for the Fall.  That is a nice project.  I can pick it up or put it down at any time.  Fall is a long time off, so there is no rush.  It is a creative project, to some degree, as I am creating the lesson plans.

Food and cooking and doing the preparation, including grocery shopping, and looking at recipes probably brings the greatest joy.  That also is a creative, and daily endeavor.

There is a nice slow rhythm to the days now, not rushed, nor pressing in, nor urgency.
But calm and serenity.
Exactly where I want to be.
Exactly where I am.