Pages

Saturday, November 14, 2020

Solitude ~ 1

 

Solitude 

helter-skeltered away

into snowdrifts

of time

emptied of warmth

outside

swirls and stirs

fond memories of

hot soup and baking bread

blowing snow banished

filling me up with warmth.


“Solitude is a gift you give yourself every day.”

~ Rachel Astarte Piccione, Celebratug Solitude

Friday, November 13, 2020

Butch and Jacob

“Commitment is a bitch. Just when I think my life is on track, something annoying like a viral pandemic comes along. Now I’m just sitting here feeling sorry for myself.” Jacob stood up, stabbed the off button on his TV remote and walked over to the fridge. “And there’s nothing in here to eat either.” As soon as he started to his kitchen, Butch, his Akita/Husky cross, perked up his ears, a faint whine escaping. “There’s nothing in here for you either.” Jacob, a normally grumpy man, was particularly sour tonight. He had promised bis wife that he would follow all the health guidelines, eat properly and stay healthy. He didn’t often make such commitments, but she was still in hospital. “She’s getting better, Butch. She’ll be home soon and come out walking with us. Let’s you and I go now before it gets too dark.” Butch was up at the door before Jacob had even finished talking. All he needed to hear was ‘walking’. He really did miss the woman. Jacob called her Aggie. Jacob picked up his mask from the bin by the door. “I told her I’d wear this damn mask too.” He chuckled. Every time the two old boys went for their walks, when they stepped out the door, Butch stopped, turned to look back in the house. With a little whine he would look up at Jacob and tip his head over. “It’s alright Butch. I told Aggie we’d still take the same walks.” When Jacob started talking with Butch, especially about Aggie, any grumpy sourness vanished. The two old friends stepped off the porch and set off down the grassy path towards the sunset.


“Freedom is not the absence of commitments, but the ability

 to choose - and commit myself to - what is best for me.”

 Paulo Coelho, The Zahir


**Author's note: I was unable to upload a photo tonight. After several tries, including shutting everything down, I decided to post 'picture-less'.

Thursday, November 12, 2020

Survival Skills

 



Endurance is key 

to survival


A tiny sparrow 

trills on a frosty branch


Rabbits fade

brown to white as snow


Bundled and warm,

I revel in the glorious winter sunshine.


“I learned from the example of my father 

that the manner in which one endures 

what must be endured is more important 

than the thing that must be endured.”

~ Dean Acheson

Wednesday, November 11, 2020

In the Trenches

Considering the pros and cons of my life on this day of Remembrance, I thought of my uncles that fought in World War II and of the battles fought daily in communities, hospitals and care homes. Their enemy was visible and vicious, battling in bloody combat while in and out of muddy, cold trenches. We are in another kind of war today on a global scale. Our enemy is invisible and vicious. The frontlines are not only in one community or just across the ocean, but around the world. In communities of any size. In this country, our soldiers have worked with and supported our hospital staff, still putting their lives at risk.


Then there are those of us who are not even close to the front lines. It is difficult to believe the reality of this virus, this Covid19 coronavirus, when a loved one has not been ill or lost. If it was not for the dedication of our Public Health officials and most government officials, we could have lost this battle long ago. Closing our doors to those outside of our ‘bubbles’, keeping us out of gatherings, whether spiritual, celebratory or funereal, only speaking to one another via text messaging, video chats or telephone, no longer going shopping easily. All are downsides - school disruptions, freedom of movement sharply curtailed. And masks. We are implored to wear masks to decrease the transmissibility of this rapidly travelling virus. 


Today, I sat in my cosy living room, reading a recently published biography for book club over Zoom only getting up to refill my coffee, disturbing my cat that lay on my lap. Comfortable, warm and dry, I realized that we are all in the trenches. In hospitals, in care homes and even in our private homes. Sadly, there have been far too many that have lost their lives in this war that will end, but seems endless. 


On this day of Remembrance, I remember all the soldiers in the many wars of this world  - young men and young women - who have given so much to all of us. I am both saddened at their loss and very grateful for their service. 


“The living owe it to those who no longer 

can speak to tell their story for them.”

~ Czeslaw Milosz, “The Issa Valley”

Tuesday, November 10, 2020

Even a Glance

 

Even a Glance


Nerves of steel that vibrate like the tension on his guitar strings when he tuned them too tightly, became scary. But Josh would not let them snap. What did his martial arts dojo tell him? “Breathe, Joshua. Breathe gentle control into your muscles. Push away the desire to destroy your opponent. Stand in your truth.” 


Standing in front of a full length mirror in his bedroom, suited up for his upcoming competition, he was his opponent. If he allowed even a glance past his image into the depths of his mirror, he lost focus. The computer screen beckoned him. His desk - strewn with a jumble of pens, pencils, notebooks, the model race car he was building and old food that had a brush of grey green; dry crusts of old pizza, made him want to snap. Let himself sweep it all away in one grand swoop. Not one that just put all on the floor, but had the power of magic behind it. Every bit of clutter would crumble and sparkle into dust. He wanted the same cleanliness around him that he felt in his practiced control. His grandfather, would tell him “Slow up, son. Just start in one corner. But make sure that corner is within your reach.” That pulled Josh back right away. He looked past himself into the depths of the mirror again. He knew even if he turned around, he would still have to walk across the room to get to the jumble on his desk. He’d have to pass his unmade bed, trip over his jeans that he’s left lying where he stepped out out them last night. He heard his grandfather’s voice again - or was it his dojo. “Feel your feet on the ground, son.That is where you start.”


“One can be the master of what one does, but never of what one feels.”

~ Gustave Flaubert

Monday, November 9, 2020

A Trying Philosophy

 



Extending energies past abilities


plows new ground


for planting and harvesting


learning new lessons


growing into new abilities ~


with many a pulled muscle 


along the way.



“Think left and think right and think low and think high.

Oh, the thinks you can think up if only you try!”

~ Dr. Seuss

Sunday, November 8, 2020

Home In Winter


Instinct, like intuition, 

will bring an awareness


a niggle


a bit of uncertainty


that feels certain that


driving far from the depths of winter


is a great plan


or 


to breathe, focus and stand still


and wear a really big sweater .


“Trust your instincts, and make judgements on what 

your heart tells you. The heart will not betray you,”

~ David Gemmell, Fall of Kings