Being Enough

Excitement could be heard from stands filled to the very edges with parents and fans and friends dressed in the colours of their countries as the youth of the world crossed the finish line, or threw a hammer the farthest, or won a basket ball game or, head down, raced trimmed down bicycles around a track to cross a finish line. The youthful strength of nations seen in sweat shining brows and muscles changed from intense focus to the excited joy of winning the race of their lives. 

The heartbroken, sometimes angry, disappointment of 

those who could not join in that excited joy, 

dampened my own excitement. Their intense focus was 

as great as those who passed them, but competition 

is like that. Once their bodies, hearts and minds 

are rested many will regroup and become the fastest, 

the best, the most talented at the craft of their 

competition while others will return to some 

other form of living and being enough.

“In every competition, there are no winners or loser, only learners.”

~ Brian Herbert, Dune: House Atreides (1999)

At Day's End

Strength flows and ripples 

over flat or jagged rocks,

rests and pools 

in clear water 

at days end.

“Those who flow as life flows know they need no other force.”

~ Lao Tzu

On an Afternoon Walk ~ Walking with Memories

February 22, 1916 - December 16,1971

Striding out with purpose ~ bareheaded, my toque left behind, winter jacket open to the breeze, gloves dropped carelessly in my shopping bag. I avoided silty puddles blessed by sun and slushy shivering ice patches in shade.

Carrying my mom’s memory with me,

I felt the strength of life and limb

in the joy of being in the sun.

“Unable are the loved to die, for love is immortality.”

~ Emily Dickinson

The Last Straw!

When worries wrapped my head in knots

and my cat's health was driving me mad,

there was no need for my stalwart phone

to close it’s eye and fall silently dead!

I burst into tears and scared my cat.

I crumpled and sobbed like a baby.

Wiping my face and taking deep breaths

I knew my iPad would keep me connected.

When rested well all morning long,

I gathered fragile strands of strength.

In the afternoon heat I went downtown

and bought a new phone instead!

“Stress should be a powerful driving force, not an obstacle.”

~ Bill Phillips

Talking Circles

In talking circles, 

stories meet in the middle,

experience showering us 

with strength.

“….. the portable community of talking circles; groups that gather with 

all five senses and allow for consciousness to change.”

~ Gloria Steinem, My Life on the Road

Believe

 

There is little design to believing ~

it slips in 

behind tragedy or sorrow

when all seems lost 

and only getting worse

until strength of spirit 

changes the colour of

worries from stormy grey to cloudless sunny days.

“You have to believe. Otherwise, it will never happen.”

~ Neil Gaiman, Stardust

Waiting to Rumble

gathering strength

waiting to rumble

to fling cold rain

on thirsty land

or ~ just hover

waiting to rumble

“What avails a storm cloud

accurate in form and colour

if the storm is not therein?”

~ Albert Pinkham Ryder, painter

Born: March 19, 1847

Died: March 28, 1917

Author's note:  Weather is so strange ~ Manitoba is floating away, while we are grateful for rain!

Newness ~ 2

Feeling life and strength

coursing through

my muscles, when

society stereotypes 'age' 

as weak and weakening, 

is feeling possibility 

~ a mid February joy.

“Aging is not ’lost youth’ but a new stage of opportunity and strength.”

~ Betty Friedan

What Is To Come

Things are frozen right now,

not just the land ~

the movement of our lives

outside of ourselves.

Inside our homes,

homes where we live,

we can move quietly ~

or joyously and breathe deeply.

Things are frozen right now,

especially our hearts ~

when the movement of our lives

halts.

Inside our homes ~

homes where we live,

we can stand still slowly

and believe in our own strength.

“You never know how strong you are, until being strong is your only choice.”

~ Bob Marley

To Know

I have felt small ~ 

but not insignificant

I have felt alone ~

but seldom lonely

I have felt deep melancholy ~
healing begins in the deep.

I have felt vulnerable ~

but recognize my strength.

I have felt afraid ~

but appreciate my fear.

I have felt all my feelings ~

and know that I am human.

“The emotion that can break your heart is 

sometimes the very one that heals it.”

~ Nicholas Sparks

Thriving Thistles

Heat tolerant and tough,        

     decorative thistles 

       await a display 

of pretty purple blossoms

“May your blessings outnumber 

the thistles that grow and 

trouble avoid you wherever you go.

~ Irish Blessing

On Immunity and Compassion

Creating something interesting

~ maybe wise or silly ~ is not easy when mind and body have been busy with the body’s normal immune response to vaccination. 

Nothing fanciful about it ~

reading, couch, blanket, sleep

eat, drink lots of fluids

stay out of the heat.

I have known that 

      ~ just for today ~

my mind needed relaxation, 

to let go of all of the ordinary to-do's and shoulds, allowing my body to work, strengthen and add polish to my health.

“If your compassion does not include yourself, it is incomplete.”

~ Jack Kornfield

On A Morning Walk - Spring Wind

Wind

pushed against my intention 

to walk to the Bird Sanctuary

Cold

but only jacket cold. 

Not deterred, I walked on.

Down

the slope to a veering path ~ away from 

the wind tunnelled roadway

 

Wind

chastened, blew high in the trees

ruffled across steel grey waters

Waterfowl

bobbed in pairs on the lake,

gulls rode the currents of cold air.

Clouds

cotton yellowed and grey

stretched and pulled across the sky

Wind

nudged my back

encouraging me home.

“You find the strength of a wind by trying 

to walk against it, not by lying down.”

~ C.S.Lewis 

Chapter One, Episode 157 - Piece Work - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update

Creating a credible and easily followed timeline in storytelling creates the flow of a story. In this episodic, and totally unplanned, story I suspect it is not always credible or easily followed. In this episode, mention is made that “Carrie's muscles, wasted by weeks in bed........”.  This time span makes sense for this episode, but what about others? How have they been affected by this time span, or have they? My cursory research has found little direction for this writing issue, so I've relied on my own experience as a reader. When a time line does jog, has there been a question set up and answered later in the story? Was there a set up in previous parts of the story, in this case, episodes? Presently I don't have a clear answer for this question, so that means getting out the text books - and I have a lot of them.

Piece Work

What is your story, Carrie Tyler? Randall Matthews, B.S.W., gowned, masked and gloved stood outside the private room on the sixth floor. He understood the need for all the protective dress, but really didn’t like it. The R.N., Miss Green, also protectively attired, was assisting Mrs. Tyler as she got up into a wheelchair. Carrie's muscles, wasted by weeks in bed and the suspected effects of her illness, did not hold her up solidly. She would need at least as many weeks, if not more, of rehabilitation to get her strength and balance back. 

~~~~~

Miss Green, pushing a soiled linen cart, came from Mrs. Tyler’s room. “Mrs. Tyler’s ready to see you, Randall.” She was about to continue with her cargo, when she stopped. “She’s really quite frightened - afraid of where she may end up. She still hasn’t told me, or any of the other nurses anything, so I do hope you can help her out.” 

Randall opened the door to Mrs. Tyler’s room. “Mrs. Tyler? May I come in? It’s Randall, the Social Worker.”  Her voice stronger than it had been, Carrie replied “Please come in. Miss Green told me you were waiting to see me.” Randall pulled up the spare chair reserved for such visits. “How are you feeling? I have quite a few questions and some information for you, so if you tire, please tell me.”  Carrie was quiet for a long moment. She reached for a tissue to dab at her eyes. Her hair, long and straight, had been washed and tied back from her face. Her skin had the look of fine porcelain, her bone structure sharp and delicate. Mrs. Tyler was much younger looking than Randall had heard from other staff. “Randall - may I call you Randall? - I’m afraid. I know people have said I’m homeless and have been living on the street. That’s only partially true, but it is why I’m afraid. Afraid that I will have to return there…..” A sob escaped from deep inside. Carrie gripped the arms of the wheelchair, took a deep breath and looked up at Randall. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to do that.” She smiled. “Seems this disease has wasted more than my leg muscles. Why don’t you ask your questions and give me any information you have. I’ll let you know when I tire. My concentration gets difficult then.” 

~~~~~

For the next thirty minutes, Randall slowly started to piece together Carrie Tyler’s life. It started with the photograph. Carrie took it from her housecoat pocket and handed it to Randall. The once glossy surface was cracked and photo’s edges bent. A smiling and pretty young girl leaned up against a red convertible parked in front of what looked like a family home. Randall turned the picture over - Emelina Eliot - was printed in faded ink on the back. “I’m not from Hartley. I have been looking for my mother and have information that this girl is my mother.” Once in a while, their conversation would lag when Carrie seemed about to drift off. She insisted they keep on until Randal finally called a halt to it. “Can I take this picture with me? I’ll make my own copy and get this back to you.” Carrie nodded. He slipped it into a plastic bag. Carrie whispered “If you think it will help my case.” She tried to get up, but had to lean back into the chair. Randall used the patient call button “I’ll get Miss Green to help you back to bed. I’ll come by again tomorrow. Today may have been the hardest, Carrie. We’ll get you in a safe place.” Randall hoped he wasn’t dreaming. This woman had been on quite a journey and it wasn’t done yet.

“In the middle of the journey of life I found myself astray 

in a dark wood where the straight road had been lost sight of.”

~ Dante Alighieri