Withdrawal Management - A Beginning

Idea ~ only the germ….

Deep in the convoluted soil of our minds

A need to be met

A plan to be made

Idea ~ only the germ….

Beginning to sprout nourished by passion

A plan to be made

Steps to be taken

Idea ~ only the germ….

Pushing up through the flagging energy of work days

Steps to be taken

More plans to be made

Idea ~ only the germ….

Muscling it’s way through social stigma

More plans to be made

Education and belief co-mingled

Idea ~ only the germ….

One small voice singing in the choir

Education and belief co-mingled

Idea picked up by more than one begins to make a difference.

“Any idea, plan, or purpose may be placed 

in the mind through repetition of thought.”

~ Napoleon Hill

Author's note: *This poem was inspired by an idea I had many years ago when, as a working nurse, I recognized that nurses did not have medical assessment protocols for alcohol (and drug) withdrawal for patients we cared for in acute care hospitals. At the time - in the 1980’s - one physician, Dr. Saul Cohen, did have protocols to teach us. From there, I took that idea and attempted to educate myself and to educate others. Working at the time to support myself and maintain my own health, I was not able to expand my own idea, however saw that health care professionals around me were and are beginning to pick up the same threads. While there is still much to be done in the field of addictions, both acute care/detox and long term care, we have managed to come a bit farther down this rocky, slippery road.

In Passing

At Lumsden Beach - a train across the valley

Seven days of each week,

trains rumble through valleys 

  over mountains,

   across rivers

     from rolling sea 

        to deepest ocean

         

carrying memories of

 waving at waving engineers,

   counting cars carrying passengers from there and faraway 

     counting cars carrying food and furnishings

       counting cars carrying fuel ~

waiting til they all pass   

  so I could wave

    at the man in the caboose ~

disappearing into the horizon

  disappearing like the steam engines

    disappearing like the last mournful whistle 

that drifts my memories away on a steam dampened breeze.

“Memory is the sense of loss, and loss pulls us after it.”

~ Marilynne Robinson, Housekeeping

A Key Connection

A Key Connection

“Serious or spontaneous, Mrs. Bodwin. Which do you want me to be?” Joseph P. Sanderton, 16 years old, was frustrated with his favourite teacher. She had read all the papers handed in about what her English student's passions were. There had been quite a pleasing array ~ from dog training to some great social issues of the day. When it came to Joseph’s paper, she frowned. “Well, Joseph, I’m really not certain. You’ve written about being serious about a stage career in concert piano, which is admirable. Then you go on to talk about ‘jazz joints’ and busking on street corners.” She looked up at him, set his paper down and said sternly “You’ll have to rewrite this and tell me how those two things come together. If they come together.” Joseph took the paper from her. He really hadn’t thought about how strange the two concepts looked together. She had asked him to stay after class to discuss this with him. A talented young man, she had heard him play many times, both classical and jazz piano. When she read his paper, it was patently obvious that he had not seen the connecting theme. There was a desire for concert piano and a similar desire for jazz piano. His adolescent musician’s mind had yet to connect the two. Any good jazz musician, or concert pianist, was always both serious and spontaneous. The passion was music. Maybe with a rewrite he would see the connection. Her face relaxed, her voice softened “Just try again, Joseph and look for a connection between the two ~ you may find you don’t need to be serious or spontaneous.”

“Invisible threads are the strongest ties.”

~ Friedrich Nietzsche

Chapter Two, Episode Ninety- five - Opening - Situationally Theirs

 Opening

Art and the world of artists seemed so foreign to Dez. But, she was learning. Slowly. The beautiful artificial nails annoyed her, though. She wanted to pull them off like she pulled off her bra when she got home from work. 

Over the weeks she had been working at the spa she had developed an appreciation for the art works that were hung in the reception area. Her sister had often tried to get her to go along with her to art galleries. “They all just leave me cold, Em. I paint, but nothing like that, and I can’t call it art.” Em would just shake her head at her sister, but she still always invited her to the next gallery showing. When Dez was alone in the reception area, clients all tucked away for their treatments, Dez would look closely at the paintings. There were only three, but she had finally gotten curious. She already had an answer if someone caught her…. ‘I just wanted to see if I know the artist.’ 

She was caught between the proverbial rock and hard place though. She had decided to accept Em’s next invitation. If she did though, she’d have to be brave enough to be this person she didn’t recognize. Em may not even recognize her. She had scoffed so long about artists and the money they charged, would her new found interest in gallery tours be believed. Dez’ life had become so narrow, but this spa job had opened a door she didn’t even know she had closed. 

~~~~~

“I wonder….” Emelina didn’t even know anyone was listening. She had just come downstairs and was pouring herself a cup of coffee. Warming her hands on the mug, she absentmindedly sat down at the table. Setting the cup down, she leafed through the morning newspaper. “Gallery Opening with Showing of Local Art Works….August 23 at the Hartley Community Centre. Admission by donation.”

“What do you wonder Miss Em?” Cook had heard her employer musing to herself but let her be while she got her coffee and newspaper. “Oh, just about this Gallery Opening in the newspaper. You know that I always ask my sister along and she never wants to come with me. I’ve not seen her in a long time ~ at least I don’t think so. I may have seen her at the spa where I get my manicure, but I’m not certain. There’s a Gallery opening in a couple of weeks, I just wondered if I should bother to ask her, that’s if I can find her. Maybe not.”

“We haven’t seen your sister out here either. Thought it seemed odd. If you talk with her tell her she is missed. Samuel’s been asking for her. He’s wondering about something in the orchard.” Cook and Martha were actually concerned about her. When she had other jobs, she always found time to come to the Estate, even if it was to have a visit with her and Martha.

“I will, Cook. I will call her today. She’s never answered any of my texts, so I’ll call her and invite her along.” Emelina’s brow furrowed. “Hmm. If she doesn’t answer, I may just call her friend Matt and see if he knows where she is. I just don’t know if I should be worried or not.”

“Curiosity is, in great and generous minds, the first passion and the last.”

~ Samuel Johnson, Works of Samuel Johnson

Two Sides

Two Sides

“Passion!? Whatever do you mean, Hazel?” Harold rattled and shook his newspaper out, settling back to read. His wife was getting his tea. He always wanted the water boiled properly, his tea steeped precisely for 2 minutes, loose leaf tea ~ absolutely no tea bags and just hot enough so the flavour of the tea was enhanced. She knew right away that she’d made a mistake suggesting he was passionate about his tea. Her mother said he was just a brute, always insisting that Hazel get it right. “Let him make it himself!”

Hazel knew they were both right. He was a brute and she had plans to change that situation. In the early days of their courtship, his ‘passion’ about tea, was interesting. He had taught her about how tea was correctly grown, cured and transported. She had been fascinated with his knowledge, and went with him to conventions and tea tasting events. Over time, she became bored and he became just stodgy about it all. “Here you are, dear. I’ll be going now.” Hazel put her coat on, picked up her suitcase, waited in vain for a ‘thank you’, and went to stay with her mother.

“There is nothing that exists that has only one side. 

Even a piece of paper, thin as it is, has two sides.”

~ Terry Goodkind

Narrow Vision ~ PASSION ~ Theme for August 2022

Passion!? Whatever do you mean…

Art and the world…..

Serious or spontaneous…..

Seven days of…..

Idea ~ only the germ….

Over the top belief……..

Nerds? Are they ever……..

“A great fire burns within me, but no one stops to warm 

themselves at it, and passers-by only see a wisp of smoke.”

~Vincent Van Gogh

Author's note: After a discussion with a friend about the word 'passion', I decided to look up the definition. My definition was really about romance, not about a deep belief in something ~ even though, in August of 2018, I had written that same theme. So this month, my theme is ‘passion’ ~ again. Just maybe I can learn nuances of this word ~ ‘passion’ and maybe more about myself.

Easier

It would be so easy 

to walk past 

all the gifts of my life.

It would be so easy

to give only a casual nod 

to their presence in my life.

It is always easier

to slow down, breathe

and take time for gratitude.

“Life is a long lesson in humility.”

~ J.M.Barrie, The Little Minister