The Amusement Park

It took me until I was fourteen to begin to LOVE riding roller coasters.  My friends and I would go to the old Elitch Amusement Park or to Lakeside Amusement Park (which still exists, I think) and roller coaster until we were sick of it.

These days, I don't need to go to an amusement park in order to ride a roller coaster.  Roller Coasters R Us (how do you make a backwards "R" on this thing?)  I am Roller Coaster.

It's been a little over a week now and my dad has been on a roller coaster whose high points have gotten lower and lower and whose low points have done the same.  I'm pretty much okay with that - it's what happens under these circumstances - but it's my mom's emotions which get to me as they go along on the ride.   I mean, think of it - over 60 years of never being apart.  She was just a baby (not yet 21) when this story began.

Wednesday:

On the way to qigong class, I made a left turn onto a side street.  A big, dark truck was coming from the opposite direction and was turning west like me.  It turned first and I followed.  I don't really know how it happened. All I know is that suddenly a man about 60 years old with a long beard and a skateboard (yes, that's what I remember) was right in front of my car.  I slammed on my brakes; he stopped in his tracks.  I mouthed, "I'm sorry."  He motioned for me to go on.

That was my last straw.  I parked and sat in the car and bawled.  And even though I didn't want to, I had to go to qigong because Mr. CfP would be there and would wonder if something happened to me.

Something DID happen to me.

For two days, I was a little girl.  Previously, I had been trying to hold everything up, but I now could no longer do that.  That is, I could no longer even try.  The truth is, it's impossible to hold things up anyway.  It's all bigger than me.

In many ways, it was a relief.  And in some ways, it felt like grief.  And it was about time.

Sometimes I wonder if that man was really an angel sent to help me become more real.  I had been trying to be the one in control of herself.  What a crazy act!


Today:

Months ago, I signed up to do my 4th retreat in Crestone.  If I could only do one nice thing for myself each year, it would be to go to Crestone and spend a week mostly in solitude and silence.  This Thursday is the day we retreatants are scheduled to head south to the San Luis Valley and the tiny village of Crestone.  Over the last week, the roller coaster has given me views where I saw myself going, but it has also gone so low that I couldn't see anything - there was no view.  Today I will clean my house (I have a guest coming before the retreat) and pack - after all, I only have four days until I leave.  If I leave.

The Rolling Stones are playing in my head:

Time waits for no one, no favours has he
Time waits for no one, and he won't wait for me

Men, they build towers to their passing yes, to their fame everlasting
Here he comes chopping and reaping, hear him laugh at their cheating

And time waits for no man, and it won't wait for me
Yes, time waits for no one, and it won't wait for me

Drink in your summer, gather your corn
The dreams of the night time will vanish by dawn

And time waits for no one, and it won't wait for me
And time waits for no one, and it won't wait for me

One reason I love Crestone

Beauty #8

This gave me goosebumps when I watched it on Facebook this morning.  


One of my wishes for all of us:  That we could be so uninhibited and ALIVE.  That we will not, as Thoreau said, "go to the grave with the song still in them [us]."

Have Fun!

As I was growing up, the last words I would usually hear from my mom as I was about to head out were:  "Be careful." 

Those words wore a deep groove into my brain.

A few years ago, to counteract that message that life is something to be afraid of, to be careful of, I painted these words above my front door:  "Have Fun!"  They were a reminder, as one crossed over the threshold into the world, to forget "careful" and instead to be aware of joy and wonder, to play in this play we call life.

As my dad's dementia has progressed, he has begun a ritual of  always thanking us for our visits and then as we prepare to leave, he tells us to "Have fun!". 

Yesterday, as my dad lay in his hospital bed, unable to keep his eyes open, my mom loudly told him that my brother and I were leaving.  Dad opened his eyes and said, "Have fun!"

There were many times that I resisted minding my dad.  I'm sure that I often had an attitude about doing what he said to do.  But now I'm going to make him proud by doing my very best to Have fun!

Ever notice how, when you learn a new word, all of a sudden you see or hear that word everywhere?  Or you hear a song and then that song seems to haunt you every place you go?

That is how it is with me and purple now.  Ever since Goodnight Gram posted about purple, purple has been following me like a dust cloud around Charlie Brown's Pig-Pen.

Yesterday, in honor of Goodnight Gram, I put on a purple sweater.  I thought that a couple of sweaters were all the purple that I owned nowadays, but when I went to put on a light jacket for our spring-like day, I saw my PURPLE silk jacket. Oh yeah!  I had forgotten!

So, of course, I put it on!

Feeling rather purplish - and proud of it - I walked into the hospital only to see that the volunteers at the front desk all had on purple vests!  I visit this hospital so often they have almost named a room after me.  They will soon give me and my family frequent patient discounts.  And I have never before registered the fact that the volunteers wear purple!

Soon, I was noticing purple people all over the place.  If someone volunteers in a different part of the hospital - not at the front desk - he/she gets to wear a purple shirt rather than a vest. In the halls, in my dad's room - purple people everywhere.

I felt like a member of some exclusive club.  It was great!

Maybe I've been around sick people too long...

Couldn't resist.

Beauty #7

There is so much beauty in the world.  Everyone could post about it and never run out of its proof. 


We had to call an ambulance (again) for my dad Sunday morning.  He is still in the hospital, but they will probably release him today, even though he may not be able to ambulate.  I feel like we are walking on the razor's edge of a cliff.  And we may or may not fall off. Well, of course we'll fall off.  It's a matter of when.


Anyway, that is not the point of this post.  The point of this post is 1) to talk about people in elevators, and 2) to share the last rhododendron photo of this series. 


First, the elevators.  You may already know this:  People in hospital elevators are some of the nicest people in the world.  A thirty second hospital elevator ride and ta-daaaaa!  Instant connection.  Talking, joking and "Have a Nice Day!"-ing.  We are family, united by the illness of someone we care for.  It could make one think that the world is a very friendly place!  (Well, I already knew that, but some people just want, through their behavior, to try to prove otherwise.)  I bet even those people would be friendly and sweet if we were to meet them on the hospital elevator. 


Maybe hospitals spray Nice Juice in their elevators. Maybe we could find their source and spray it all over the world...


Below is the last rhodie that I'm going to post.  I love the drops of water on the stems and petals.

The beauty of the heart

is the lasting beauty:

its lips give to drink

of the water of life.

 -Rumi

Beauty #6

This one (the last rhodie I'll share) is for GoodnightGram.  (She'll know why.)  My purple rhodie photos didn't come out so well, so I played with Photoshop on this one.  I didn't do it justice, but it's kind of fun. 

"A flower's fragrance declares to all the world that it is fertile, available, and desirable, its sex organs oozing with nectar.  Its smell reminds us in vestigial ways of fertility, vigor, life-force, all the optimism, expectancy, and passionate bloom of youth.  We inhale its ardent aroma and, no matter what our ages, we feel young and nubile in a world aflame with desire."
 
-   Diane Ackerman,  A Natural History of the Senses


G.G., check this out:  The Purple Store  I think I could have fun there - how about you?

Beauty #5

I think that this rhododendron from Whidbey Island has been a previous visitor to this blog.  I love the "rhodie bouquet" that this plant created.

How did the rose
Ever open its heart
And give to this world
All its beauty?
It felt the encouragement of light
Against its being,
Otherwise,
We all remain
Too frightened.
 
- Hafiz

Beauty #4

Yesterday evening, Mr. CfP and I experienced our second float.  It was so, so, so... oh, there are no words.  I am hooked.  A WANT to be a float junkie!  Flotation tanks are an antidote for this fast-paced, media-frenzied, too-many-demands-filled world.

I didn't want to go to the float tank. I wasn't feeling well - had a whining tummy and was very tired.  After a short while in the tank, though, I realized my tummy had turned happy - no more complaining.  I came out of the tank feeling more than fine.  Renewed.

That's just one of the many reasons floating is my new drug of choice.

After our flotation experience, we went to dinner at my most favorite eating and community place in the whole world - the Mercury Cafe.  Marilyn, the owner, is inspiring.  She has created a space where all of these things can be happening at once:  a local group was putting on a play; next door to that, people were eating soul-rejuvenating local, organic food; and upstairs someone was having a birthday party.  The Mercury Cafe is funky, as are most of its people.  Its food is real and one never knows what in-season vegetables they'll get.  It has solar panels and the best water-saving toilets in town (this kind).  Marilyn supports all who want to make the world a better place, sometimes opening the place up for meetings on Mondays, even though her establishment is closed on Mondays.

Last night as Mr. CfP took my hand across the table and kissed it (sweet, huh?), I noticed that Marilyn was walking by. 

And I thought to myself:  What a beautiful life.  To be able to create an atmosphere that is such a contribution to our world, a place that does as little harm as possible to the planet, a peaceful oasis which encourages love, health, community, and a man to kiss his wife's hand.

The good is the beautiful. 

- Plato

Beauty #3

Another pink one.

Beauty is truth's smile when she beholds her own face in a perfect mirror.

- Rabindranath Tagore

Beauty #2

Never lose an opportunity of seeing anything beautiful, for beauty is God's handwriting.

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Beauty #1

A couple of years ago, we visited with a woman who lives on Whidbey Island.  An important aspect of her life is her love affair with rhododendrons.  When I first heard of this love of hers, I was a bit bewildered.  How could anyone have a love affair with a type of flower?

While we were on Whidbey, the woman took us to Meerkerk Rhododendron Gardens and then to a private garden.

Oh, my!  I got it!  I could see why someone would be in love with rhododendrons.  Well, sort of...

Last night as I went through my photos looking for some Buddha shots to send to a friend, I got so much enjoyment out of looking at the beauty of these graceful flowers that I thought I would share some of them over the next few days.

Today, like every other day, we wake up empty
and frightened. Don't open the door to the study
and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument.
Let the beauty we love be what we do.
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.


 - Rumi

Love in Six Words

Happy Valentine's Day!

SmithMag.net is collecting six-word love stories.  Most of the contributors don't seem so happy.

Here's one of the better ones:  

Happy Anniversary: four heart-exploding years together. 

One of the not-so-sweet ones:  

Women fake orgasms... Men fake relationships.

Here is mine:  

Learning to Love Like Never Before.

What would you write as a six-word love story?


(Happy Valentine's Day, my sweet Mr. CfP!)

What Springtime?

A few hours ago, I wrote that I would be standing outside in spring-like weather today.  Ha!  Curses, you trickster weather!

The sun didn't come out from hiding behind a big gray cloud until 1:29 p.m.  We end our vigil at 1:30 p.m.  Aaaahhhhh... the timing.  The temps were not all that warm, due to the lack of sun and the fact that we were standing on packed snow and were surrounded by much more snow. We were standing in an icebox.  And because I dressed for SPRING instead of donning my big, chocolate marshmallow coat, I was cold. 

Today it came to me to (inwardly) say "I love you" to every driver and pedestrian I could connect with - a slight variation from the wishes of previous weeks.  It was so much fun!  And I got to find the unloving places in myself.

A young woman drove by.  She was slouched in her seat and didn't even glance our way.  I said "I love you", but realized that I didn't feel it.  I was judging her.  She seemed lazy.  I had to ask myself if I can only love people if they don't seem lazy.  Nope!  I love her even if I make up a story in my mind about her being lazy. 

A young man was throwing snowballs at his friend while waiting for the bus.  When he sat on the hill behind us with a snowball and a devilish grin, I wondered if he would consider aiming at us.  I found that I loved him even if he threw a snowball at me (which he didn't do - whew!).

When I play with connecting with the humans that pass me by, I have so much fun.  AND as long as I was loving people, I would forget that I was cold!  Double bonus.

I also thought of Egypt as I stood in the non-spring-like weather.  Before the vigil, I told a woman that I was so happy for the people of Egypt, and she replied, "Oh, yes, but the work has just begun."  Well, yes...  I have also read comments where the biggest concern was that the price of gas might rise, due to whatever might come of the protests. 

HELLO!!!

These people just performed some of the bravest actions known to mankind.  They were willing to suffer (and die) to be free.  I LOVE that they followed their hearts.  Even if a "bad" government comes in, it cannot take away the fact that these people stood up.  When someone gets well from a disease, we don't squelch his or her happiness by saying "Yeah, but you know you will probably get sick again sometime, and you WILL die, you know...".  No, we CELEBRATE!

I love the Egyptians even if their actions give me higher gas prices and even if it brings in a government that I don't like.

It Feels Like Spring

After a few weeks of snow and frigid temps, I walk outside to let the Buddha dog do his morning duties and I breathe in spring air.  The Birds are singing.  My computer exudes exuberant voices from Egypt.

It's a new day.

Spring-like weather may not last from now into the summer, but the high today is expected to be almost 50 degrees and I will enjoy it as I stand for peace.

The exuberance of the Egyptians may not last indefinitely - after all, there is much to do to ensure that they get a government they want - but they are enjoying the results of their work right now and so am I.

When one person is willing to free herself, we are all freed.

Because it will be a warmer day to stand in vigil and because I'll be standing in solidarity with my brothers and sisters in Egypt, I have brought out one of my favorite shirts to wear:

It was designed by my friends, Emma's Revolution:





Thank you, people of Egypt.  You have shown me the power of the human spirit.

The Invisible Wars

I've been trying to figure out why I can be accepting and understanding of the behaviors of someone who has Alzheimer's/dementia, but it's not so easy for me to play along with someone who is less-than-rational/logical/kind but has no diagnosis...

Guess I need to imagine a certificate on the wall announcing that the person in question has a certifiable disease so that I can be as patient with them as I am with my dad.
 
Reminds me of one of my favorite quotes, which I think I've posted here before, but it bears repeating (that is, for me, it bears repeating a few times daily):

Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a great battle.

 

My New Profession

Somehow Mr. CfP decided that I would be his new barber.  I am not quite sure how this all came about.  I must not have protested loudly enough and sincerely enough, because last week, an expensive pair of barber scissors arrived at our house via UPS.

Those scissors sat in a drawer for a week while I searched the intertubes for instructions on how to cut a man's curly locks.  Hair Cutting For Dummies arrived from the library one day but that book did NOT inspire confidence.

I hemmed and hawed and read and thought.  Meanwhile, Michael's blossoming 'fro was starting to resemble Linc's from the Mod Squad (if you're too young to know what I'm talking about... well, never mind...)

(photo courtesy of Wikipedia)

Finally, we decided that today was going to be the big day.  The haircut was long past due.  Today would be the THREE MONTH anniversary of Mr. CfP's last haircut and my hair-cutting debut.

And, well, my worst nightmare didn't happen (or at least not THIS worst nightmare).  Mr. CfP will not have to make a hair appointment in order to get his wife's mistakes fixed.  There are probably MANY mistakes in his 'do, but none appear to be noticeable enough for the untrained eye to care about.


Ta-daaaaaa!

Too bad I didn't take any "Befores".

I think that I'll wait until I've cut his hair a couple of more times before I open up my own salon.  You'll be invited to my Open House.

Stillness

Open the door to darkness;
Without seeing what's before you, take a step.
You are safe,
even when stepping into the void.

Close the door behind you
and rest in the still water.
You are supported,
even if you can't understand how.

Look, listen, feel.
There are no boundaries.
You are a star in the universe,
and all you see is... nothing.

Over time, you become
a body in a womb
You are nurtured
and there are no needs.

You realize this body is breathing
and digesting; heart beating, blood flowing.
You aren't making it happen,
couldn't if you tried.

Amidst the quiet comes
a knock on the door.
You emerge, done with this journey
Or are you?

Ahhhhhhhhh....





(Mr. Cfp and I each experienced our first floats in float tanks yesterday.)