SLOW POKE

My brain has always moved at lightening speed, leaping and bounding ahead of rational thought while my body lagged sadly behind, moving in fits and starts. This has been tricky but I have learned to live with it. In any moving group, I will be the straggler at the end. Meanwhile my brain will have climbed a dozen mountains, scaled to the tops of stately pine trees and flown across the skies with swirling masses of cloud form. In my current metamorphous, both body and mind have slowed down with my body becoming downright sluggish. This seems to be annoying to everyone around me as they trip past me, try to squeeze me out of the way and sometimes rudely bump into me. I don’t relish being a hindrance to other life forms but it seems to have come to that. I would love to fly gracefully through my day, never fumbling for charge cards, money or tickets. But that is not to be my lot and I must endure the body that has been assigned to me. Yet how glorious it is when someone smiles at me or waits for me or tries to help. I wish I had learned earlier in life to be kinder to the strangers you meet every day.

SUMMER CHAIRS

Summer chairs puddle with rain.

Pots overflowing, drowning.

Stiff straws of grass, stubbornly

brown, turn their backs to redemption.

Daisy and Phlox bow gratefully,

a Monet of cerulean and maize

dripping their scents on

saturated soil.

Although watched faithfully in

it’s first few phases,

the full moon will go unseen tonight.

Maurading mists, turbulent torrents

Rushing, raging, roaring--

circling north and east--

change our view of the world.

THE OLD LADY IN THE MIRROR

No matter how much time I spend on my face, my hair, my clothes, the same tired old lady looks back at me from the mirror. It's always a shock because it's still ME inside and I don't know who that stranger is. At some point in life your body becomes your enemy. It betrays and diminishes you. It intimidates and disheartens you. It refuses to perform it's usual tasks with it's usual grace. It rebels, it stalls, it shuts you down. It hammers your joints and weakens your senses. Age is an indignity and rife with booby traps. Age aggravates more body parts than you ever knew you had. As Bette Davis once said, "old age ain't for sissies."

In Favor of a Flat Earth

A flat earth would be quite comfortable to live in. Picture gardens, lakes, ponds, pathways, wandering sheep, rice paddies. Trees would be okay as long as they weren’t too large - no giant Sequoias that might upset the balance and cause the earth to tilt. No huge oceans with giant waves to bring harm and destruction or to get lost in. Hills and mountains, especially high jagged peaks would add interest but would also complicate things: they would have to be climbed, they could perhaps be hidden in, and they cast huge shadows. There is serenity in sameness. A flat earth would be quite safe and comforting. But then someone would probably come along and tell us that not only is the earth round, it spins and orbits! What a dizzying thought!

Family

It's such a warm sunny feeling being with family. I try to retain a visual image of such moments over the years. If I work at it, I can even add a sound track and the feeling of love and contentment that went with it. I would like it to happen more often, but maybe then I wouldn't appreciate it quite so much. I seem to have to readjust every so often to the ages of everyone. Especially the younger ones. Just as you get to know them as toddlers, they become teen-agers

and then adults. At each stage along the way, it's like getting to know a whole new person. But so far, I've loved every one of them at each and every stage.

GOOD FRIDAY

IN THE SPRING, LORD, OUR THOUGHTS TURN TOWARD THE BEAUTY OF NATURE: BIRDSONG AT SUNRISE, THE PALETTE OF EARLY BLOSSOMS, THE SWELLING OF A BUD, WARM FRESHENING BREEZES AND SUNSHINE. BUT BEFORE WE CAN THINK OF BEAUTY, WE ARE COMPELED TO CLIMB THE HILL OF CALVARY. WE ARE CONSTRAINED TO DWELL ON THE FORCE OF NAILS PIERCING HANDS AND FEET, A CROWN OF THORNS, HUMILIATION, SWEAT, BLOOD, TEARS.

WE WOULD LIKE TO SOOTHE OUR MINDS WITH SERENITY, BEAUTY, PEACE, AND LOVE. BUT FIRST WE MUST WALK THROUGH THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH. BEFORE WE ENJOY THE FRUITS OF RESURRECTION, WE MUST SUFFER THE BLACK DESPAIR OF CRUCIFIXION AND BURIAL.

AND SO IT IS WITH ALL OF LIFE, LORD. WE MUST FACE THE FRIDAYS OF GRIEF AND LOSS BEFORE WE REACH THE SUNDAYS OF RESURRECTION AND JOY. THANK YOU FOR THE BITTER, WHICH INSTRUCTS US, AND THE SWEET, WHICH LIFTS OUR SPIRITS. THANK YOU FOR YOUR SACRIFICE.

WE THINK TODAY OF THOSE WHO ARE FACING ILLNESS, TERROR AND GRIEF. WE ASK THAT YOUR COMFORTING PEACE MIGHT FILL THEIR HEARTS. WE PRAY FOR OUR BROKEN WORLD. WHERE THERE IS STRIFE, HATRED AND REVENGE, BRING PEACE, HOPE AND LOVE. GIVE US THE GRACE TO BEAR ONE ANOTHERS BURDENS, THE SKILLS TO BUILD COMMUNITY, THE BONDS THAT WILL WITHSTAND DISAGREEMENT. AND FINALLY, LORD, WHILE WE ARE IN THE BLACK DISPAIR OF THIS FRIDAY, GRANT US FAITH TO BELIEVE IN SUNDAY’S RESURRECTION. FILL THE EARTH WITH YOUR PRESENCE AND YOUR LOVE DEAR LORD WE PRAY.

Cranberries (con.)

(repeating and continuing previous blog)

Sometimes it’s not just the memory that’s important but the timing of the memory. Yesterday, I put frozen cranberries into the blender as the start of a healthy shake. The trick was to remember to put the cover on the blender before I pushed the button. I had placed the cover right beside the blender, so I knew what I was doing, I just remembered the wrong thing first. On the other hand, it was a beautiful sight; the brightly colored berries flying through the air – my did they fly - landing on floor and countertops. And it was good exercise, picking up all those cranberries. Maybe I should get my camera out and try it again.

It's the same idea as trying to remember someone’s name. You can remember the name o.k., you just can’t remember it at the precise moment when you are called upon to introduce that person. And medications: they are all lined up for the day, but you have to remember them at the time you need to take them – before breakfast, after breakfast, noontime, before dinner, after dinner, bedtime. These times slip by awfully quickly. And meetings. I know the meeting is at one o’clock. It’s just that at one o’clock I don’t happen to think of the meeting. Then there are birthdays. I never forget a person’s birthday. But I don’t seem to be able to coordinate the remembering of the birthday with the actual act of purchasing and mailing a card. I must say, however, that there is one thing I never forget to be on time for, and that’s dinnertime.