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