Shifting Life's Gears

In the bus on the ferry October, 2017

My thoughts are scattered

tamping them down

trying to see a pattern

that shows direction

without success

it seemed that

only for a moment 

there was purpose

before me that drove me forward

each day with hope and excitement.

My mind reviews

all the misdirection

all of the lacks I failed to recognize

all of the needs that were needed

all that I have gained and maintained

and yet

there is more to come

that has no shape or pattern

to the direction in tomorrow

the hope and excitement to come

while I feel

like I am forever shifting gears.

“You should always know when you’re shifting gears in life. 

You should leave your era; it should  never leave you.”

~ Leontyne Price

To Be Still

Kids off for a fun weekend

Papers to review

Forms to fill out

Grand-dogs to care for

Grand-kitty too.

Plans to design

Fridge full of food

Rainy day weather

Online learning to do

My weekend set up

Stillness deepens and glows

“The inner is foundation of the outer.

The still is master of the restless.”

~ Lao Tzu

Just Keep Driving

A Texas Highway in much lighter skies

The road was empty, black and shiny. Wind whipped rain in thick sheets in front of my eyes challenging the strength of my windshield wipers. It was north Texas in May of 1988. I was driving to Lubbock to meet my new co-workers at St. Mary of the Plains hospital. I was driving toward a new direction in nursing. Turning back to the safety of home and family in Canada never entered my mind. Finding safe haven in this wild, black storm was definitely on my mind, but the little town of Happy was rolled up against the weather and the night. No cell phone, no radio in my little car and no knowledge that I was driving through ‘Tornado Alley’. At the edge of a tornado.

I only knew that Lubbock was closer than even my uncle’s in Colorado, much less Canada. Stopping on the road until the storm passed was not an option, although that thought washed through my head as fast as the rain washed across my windshield. Stopping on the road had the potential of picking me up and sending me to Kansas or Oklahoma or into a very watery ditch with no assistance in sight.

Why am I retelling this story? One I have shared more than once? I have felt in the past few weeks as though I am back in that little car in the middle of a storm. Not knowing for certain what lies front of me and seeing how far away in years I have come, puts me firmly in the seat of my own tiny life. The spot where my size eight feet are right now only takes up a small rectangle on this earth. The storm? All the what if's and could be’s and should have’s crowding around me, each one clamouring for attention. When I put myself back in my little car in May of 1988, my final decision was to just keep driving. To stop on this metaphorical road could mean being blown away by unknown forces in our society’s support systems. And this is fear. Fear that can paralyze and only lead to more clamouring thoughts. So today, I’ll just keep driving, learning and living.

“Don’t be afraid of your fears. They’re not there to scare you. 

They’re there to let you know that something is worth it.”

~ C. JoyBell C., writer, philosopher

Book Review - The Edible Woman by Margaret Atwood

In the 1960’s, the ‘rules’ for society’s cultural mores were very different from today. Margaret Atwood’s first published novel, The Edible Woman was written 1965. In her own cutting and yet humorous way, she delves into these rigid mores. Each character, not especially likeable to me, had their own role to play. Marian, the central figure, is caught in the middle of living by the expected and confined rules and wanting to live her life very differently. Peter, her lover and fiancé, is portrayed in the rigid male model of the time. Ainsley, Marian’s roommate, is taking life in her own way and changing the rules. Duncan, a misfit with two roommates, challenges anything remotely normal. Marian is attracted to him, does not know why, yet continues to cling to him in secret.

Consumerism, feminism, body image and vegetarianism are all part of this classic and complex story. I did not immediately recognize the humor in this story, however as the it unfolded, I laughed out loud. The entanglements, both literally and figuratively, sliced through Marian’s confusion and sadness at the most unexpected moments. Hiding under a bed with dust bunnies all around. Climbing over hedges. Activities that definitely go against any social norm. Our discussion at our book group picked and poked through all the issues and relationships and found that it indeed was a good read.

“She’s against it on principle, and life isn’t 

run on principles but by adjustments.”

~ Margaret Atwood,  The Edible Woman

Title:  The Edible Woman

Author:  Margaret Atwood

Publisher: McClelland & Stewart, Inc. (1969)

Copyright: 1969

Format:  Soft Cover

ISBN: 0-770-42822-3

Type: Fiction

That Same Girl

Who was I then?

I remember a girl

Of many ages

Quiet and shy

Wanting to understand

Directed to be

Alive and useful

Who am I now?

That same girl

Many ages past

Still quiet and shy

Wanting to learn

The depth of purpose

Alive and hopeful.

“A self is not something static, tied up in a pretty parcel and handed

 to the child, finished and complete. A self is always becoming.”

~ Madeleine L’Engle,  A Circle of Quiet

Mixing Memories

On the surface

Cherished memories

Float in picture frames

Cozy up in Afghans 

Looking deeper

Cherished memories

Tuck themselves in albums

Hard copy or electronic

Mixed together

Cherished memories

Taste like homemade bread

Waft gently like roast chicken 

On the surface

Looking deeper

Mixing to match memories

We write our own story

“There’s always room for a story that 

can transport people to another place.”

~ J.K.Rowling

Upheaval

Upheaval should show

Shouldn’t it?

Dusty cracks and crevices

Avalanches of rocks and trees

Bursting closets of stores and stuff

Plain for all to see yet......

Emotional upheaval rolls out

A very, very different story

Keeping a smile on in public - 

A smooth surface hiding

Past and future sprouting

From dark neon depths within

Loose ends sticking out

Awkward angles poking

All a shimmering mirage

Until tomorrow’s reality arrives

“I’ll be here tomorrow if I can make it through today.”

~ Henry Rollins