December 17 Reflection
There are not enough candles to light every corner darkened by the last few days, but the light in our collective soul must not be snuffed out.
Today I am thankful for the warm embrace of friends, for the gentle spirit of my life, and for moments of reflection.
For what are you thankful?
December 10 Frailty
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrow’s rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime’s argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
How fragile we are how fragile we are
Today I am thankful for connections, however fragile, to wonderful people. Take flight, Lalo. We will find you on the other side.
December 3 Stockings
“As our eyes grow accustomed to sight they armour themselves against wonder. ”
― Leonard Cohen, The Favorite Game
The weather has been in a word, balmy. We could have driven the entire day with the top down on what felt like the perfect September day – in December. We tossed a dash of pine onto the mantel to trick ourselves into thinking “Baby, it’s cold outside.”
Today I am thankful for
.. knit stockings.
.. fresh pine garland.
.. and little Santas carved from soft blocks of wood.
For what are you thankful?
November 20 Fallen
I was sitting on my back porch yesterday and was reminded that I had forgotten to post Three Thanks by this leaf .. which drifted so close to me that I just held out my hand and it landed there. I snapped this awkward picture that I munged via some random iOS photography app, and went back about my business making chicken soup and cleaning the bathroom. It’s almost Thanksgiving, and company is on the way.
Today I am thankful,
.. for Mister Clean Magic Erasers.
.. for three cancelled meetings that transformed into three quiet hours of happy work.
.. for falling leaves, and kittens.
For what are you thankful?
November 5 Boots
We have a vagabond. I named her Boots. Not so original, I know – but I was trying not to get (too) attached. She’s sweet, and skinny, and definitely an independent cuss. Monti has already hissed and spit out her disapproval. But Boots, well she’s a honey badger in a kitten’s fur.
This week so many people have been displaced, and are starting to feel the vagabond sting. It will be a long haul; I hope we are resilient in our attention through the holidays.
Today I am thankful
.. for Boots, even if she strays.
.. for everyone that showed up this weekend and gave so generously to support the American Red Cross Sandy Relief efforts.
.. for violas, pansies, and rose-resistant gloves.
For what are you thankful?
October 22 Joan’s Joy
image courtesy http://www.vcstar.com/photos/2011/jun/05/129402/
I have been traveling far more than is my preference lately. Normally, I might decline but the trips have each been their own mini-adventures, replete with villains and heroes, narrative twists and turns, and too often sleepless nights.
This trip started like the others – checking the destination weather, packing and unpacking, winding through the morning traffic to hurry up and wait in the security line, until at last reaching the departure gate – located at the very end of the terminal. I marched up the stairs from the train past the tangled intersection of arrivals and departures, hoping that there would be another less crowded place to get some coffee before I reached the gate but there was none. One gate left, no coffee in sight, I turned and considered the long corridor back to my starting point only to realize I really didn’t *need* another cup before noon so I headed to find a seat. And that’s where I met Joan Englander.
There in the first row of seats (with power), she was surrounded by a backpack, roll a board, lunch sack, hand bag and a red airport wheelchair - I thought she must be with someone so I asked if the empty seat was taken. It was not, she replied. The air barely whooshed from the blue vinyl seat when she started asking me where I was from, where I was going, what I was doing – all in a warm embrace of conversation that turned the stark gatehouse into a glowing cafe. I didn’t need coffee after all.
I told her I was on my way to a conference about storytelling and her face lit up. “I am a storyteller too!” I must have looked surprised, or at worst incredulous because she followed that quickly with “I have written a book, my life’s work. I will tell you more about that later.” Instead, we talked about the conference she had attended in Asheville about aging and elder care, and about how we as a society have to rethink wellness, rethink elder care, and how we have to care for our souls. Then she told me about her experience at the conference and a harrowing tale of how she managed to make a flight despite her departure delays and less-than-helpful flight attendants and airport assistants.
Before I knew it, it was time to queue up. I watched as the gate agent treated Joan with almost a callous nature, ignoring her questions, oblivious to her needs. Joan is deceptive – she has the brightest eyes I have ever seen. Adorned in her purple fleece and sneakers she looks strong and capable, but it was clear even to me that there was little chance that she was going to be able to get to the gate with the small tent city surrounding her all on her own. I helped pack her up so that she met the two carry on limit, and moved her to the velvet rope. The gate agent eventually came over to help … by packing up her chair and pushing her forward ten feet to sit alone against the wall. My heart lurched into my throat but I was frozen. Joan didn’t seem to mind too much, in a few minutes an attendant appeared and I boarded shortly afterward.
We sat just two rows away from one another and she asked for my help getting down her bag from the overhead. I waited to make sure she had all her things together and ready for the wheelchair attendant. She took both my hands and thanked me. I deplaned worried and wondering how she was going to find her way to her friend who was circling the airport because she could not afford to park and wait. But I am not worried that Joan will find a way to help us rethink.
For whatever aided the collision of my path with Joan Englander, I am thankful.
I am thankful that when I am an old woman, I too shall wear purple.
NOTE: Joan Englander’s life work is captured in her book Joy in the Evening of Our Lives. Joan is the founder of Healing Companions® services, a holistic pioneering vision for eldercare. For twenty-eight years she has taught elders and nursing staffs, serving as a consultant and in-service trainer for geriatric care facilities in the California Central Coast region. She is a holistic eldercare coach.
October 15 Arachnids FTW
It’s the weekend for the set up of our yard haunt. This year’s theme is arachnids, aka Charlotte’s Dead Web. We spent hours upon hours fashioning webs, giant pumpkin spider nests, mad scientists and mummies oozing trails of spiders – ultimately, a nightmare.
Today I am thankful
.. for the little aches and pains treated with loving hands.
.. for friends willing to spend a perfectly beautiful weekend spinning paracord webs and cocoons.
.. for the best aromas of fall – a low and slow BBQ feast and a camp fire in the back yard.
For what are you thankful?
