Reconciliation

If I looked at her with 

the old eyes of stereotype

without peace in my heart

I would see an insult to humanity with 

long scraggly hair, frumpy baggy skin

hunched and meaningless. 

If I looked at her with ancient eyes

full of wisdom and compassion

I would see a strong, gentle soul shine

with her smile, the soft light in her eyes

and her kind, unwavering voice.

“Reconciliation is a part of the healing process, but how 

can there be healing when the wounds are still being inflicted?”

~ N.K.Jemisin

Somedays

Somedays

I feel like a lab rat trapped 

inside the maze of my skin

feeling all the twinges of my age

not serious twinges but enough that

I hear whispers - 'Scurry off to a doctor.'

'Tell me what's really wrong.'

Somedays

I know that my nursing wisdom 

tells me that there are a million reasons

for each twinge, ache or pain and that 

asking for machines to beep and buzz

is not a good use of our health care system.

Somedays

I get scared and know that

my twinges will result in 

fatal disease or major surgery,

chronic consequences filled 

with pain and disability

Somedays

I feel like an explorer

investigating the depths of my body

ferreting out forgotten strengths

finding that I am not trapped but

I am healthy with no need for labels or prescriptions.

Somedays

my inner wisdom may grow weak

but if I breathe deeply it glows with strength 

finding peace for soul and family, 

healing for body and mind 

knowing that a twinge may just be a twinge.

“It's never too late to learn some embarrassingly basic, 

stupidly obvious things about oneself.”

~ Alain de Botton

Lab Test Blues

**This is for all of us in health care that know too much but not enough!  

Lab Test Blues

Don’t look at the numbers

unless you know how you feel

Don’t look at the numbers

if you are only curious.

Don’t look at the numbers

to see if your intuition is right or wrong.

Don’t give the numbers 

the value of your fears.

Do give the numbers

a peaceful perspective.

“Make it dark, make it grim, make it tough, 

but then for the love of God, tell a joke.”

~ Joss Whedon

Self-Stigma

I tighten up inside

my peace of mind shatters

when a compliment is offered

wanting to catch it

savour it’s sweetness

until fear intrudes

with innuendos of

‘not the truth’

‘it wasn’t that good’

‘you’ll never do it again’

so the bouquet is tossed aside 

without vase or water

until my heart pushes aside the fear.

“Self-stigma can be just as big a problem as the negative attitudes of others.”

~ Megan A. Arroll

Back Alley Levels

Taking the carpeted back alley 

past doors closed against early morning

past bronze banks of mail boxes

to the laundromat ~

not on a Main Street  ~

but in the sculpted basement

where cars park underground  

where machinery runs the elevator

under houses with different names ~

condos, suites or apartments ~

are seldom recognized

as the homes that they truly are.

“Home is where we tie one end of the thread of life.”

~ Martin Buxbaum

** This piece was inspired by going to the laundry room this morning - the only peace I could find is that I now have clean clothes - but I was unable to include the word 'peace'!  

On a Morning Walk - Down Cook Street Morning

On a bright sunny day

I walked

Cold air reddened my cheeks

‘You goin’ for a walk?’

Shorts, backpack and a smile

‘Meeting my walking group.’

She emptied a silver planter.

‘Good morning.’

She smiled and nodded back.

The little guy sat outside a Starbucks.

Folded his arms and scrunched up his little legs.

His mom smiled at me and said ‘He thinks he likes coffee.’

I looked for the man who sat under a tree.

His spot was empty save for his little seat of cardboard

I hope he was able to get to his mom’s funeral.

Passing shops, medical office, optometry still quiet

Quick window shopping only this morning

Passersby chatting as they walked

A worksite still and waiting for workmen

Shovels stored neatly against a dirt wall

Bits of styrofoam and wood strewn on the ground.

If I had had a GPS on this peaceful morning

It’s computer speak would say: ‘You have reached 

your destination.’ ~ to begin my Monday walk with friends.

“Be present in all things and thankful for all things.”

~ Maya Angelou

To Speak Kindly

This morning I spoke kindly….

to my healing left knee….

Joints, pulled and danced by ligament and muscle,

move me forward into a life I have chosen ~ always ready to bend, straighten and flex the instant I command.

When the fear of incapacity

bleeds through my soul

disrupting the peace I have found

I become cautious and grateful.

So, though it may sound odd,

I will speak kindly to my body ~ 

she carries my mind, heart and soul

wherever I ask her to go.

“The body is our general medium for having a world.”

~ Maurice Merleau-Ponty, Phenomenology of Perception

On and Afternoon Walk - Right or Left

An open Saturday.

Only one appointment downtown just to get my hair done. Other plans? Experience the annual Gingerbread Show on my way home. Walk past the koi pond, walk down Humbolt St. under trees still divesting themselves of their gold ~ just taking my time ~ Good idea right? Home to……..oh yes, soup. Not just broth but making black bean soup with some of the broth. So when I left Arq Hair Salon I turned right instead of left. Several blocks later I was in Chinatown for a few fresh ingredients for my Black Bean Soup. All I needed ~ jalapeño peppers, a lime and a head of garlic. The Chinese market was packed with shelves sagging with cans and jars of pickled vegetables, dried noodles, boxes of teas and items I was completely unfamiliar with. Outside in boxes, baskets and on shelves were a multitude of Asian vegetables - daikon radish, green onions, bok choy were only a few that I recognized. I did get my jalapeños, garlic and lime and returned home.

The rest of the evening has been a peaceful one. There is nothing like cooking ~ tonight I finished the chicken broth, created the black bean soup and made (and ate) red wine poached salmon (first time) with asparagus. And I used rosemary from the front yard. There was much ‘quality control’ done throughout the whole process.

“The smells of slow cooking spread around the house and impart 

a unique warmth match only by the flavour of the food.”

~ Yotam Ottolenghi