It may just be the weather... This time of year in a Northern climate can be a little trying.
It's probably a combination of things. I'm probably reading too many sensationalized headlines. The political milieu certainly isn't helping. The recent massive earthquakes in Haiti and Chile were deeply disturbing, yet humbling. Reminding me how fortunate I am. That I have so much to be grateful for... I could do with a bit of a news fast though.
But, anyway... I've been in a bit of a funk that I'm having trouble shaking.
I will. Emotions are seasons and will pass. And anger, hope, despair, unabated happiness, it all passes. It just takes me some discipline and grace to ride those waves. To let happiness flow like a free river. And to cradle anger or despair like an infant. That either has its place and right just as happiness does, but I should be more gentle with them... and with myself during times like this.
So, while I've been contemplating my place in the world... Wondering why and what and IF it all matters, I received a message the other day from an old friend that I haven't spoken with in probably at least 10 years, probably more like 14 or 15. It hasn't been intentionally that long... It's just that the years go by so damn fast...
She wrote, "Friday my 8 year old was hit in a cross walk by a Hummer. I have been in the worst state of my life, as we have gone through this. She will be okay, three breaks in her pelvis, one in her foot. I've never been so scared. She is in terrible pain however, using a wheelchair and will be moving to a walker when she can. I have missed you old friend and as I have walked this path this weekend I have felt the need to cry on your shoulder as somehow I know that the depth of our friendship has been a source of soul strenghtening for me. I could use some strength, I know the lady that hit her (small town).
"We are at the Hospital right now but we will be leaving it today as she doesn't need iv's anymore. We all need to go home. What a mess I don't even know if this all makes sense. Sorry if I don't make sense as I write to you but hopefully a little of it does. I haven't had much sleep. I am going to try to catch a nap now. Thank you for being my friend, Thank you for the times you have held my hand listened to my words, given me a hug, I love you friend."
That reminded me.
That to live for one another, is where life blossoms, where it moves beyond merely breathing, into the magical realm of love. And there really isn't anything else.
I know that this says, "Happy Birfday Doris" at the end of it, but it's the best recording I could find of her version of "It's Magic".
So, I know it's a commercially produced Holiday and I carry a fair amount of disdain for it. The pressure, the feeling of exclusion, the whole rah, rah, siss-boom-ba, rip-off-your-panties, tear-off-your-bra about it. Will and I don't really celebrate it. I mean, yes... One of us usually gets his panties ripped off and the other usually gets a bra torn, but romance and passion aside, it's still kind of a good reminder to tell those you love, that you love them, no? And in elementary school, we ALL gave one another Valentine's notes, even to those we didn't really care for. It was about just acknowledging each other.
And really, isn't that what it's ALL about?
So, while friendship isn't always "Magic". It is MOST of the time; with Will, our dogs and crazy birds, our family and friends. And that's what sustains me. So, while I don't know many of you out there. We're kindred spirits of a sort, you and I. Somewhere through the rubble of this blog, you get me, and through your visits, I get you. And maybe it reminds us we're not alone. And that's a little bit of magic right there.
(Thank you for this great Valentine's Day pic, Bubba!)
Here I am in the garden laughing an old woman with heavy breasts and a nicely mapped face
how did this happen well that's who I wanted to be
at last... a woman in the old style... sitting stout thighs apart under a big skirt... grandchild sliding on... off my lap... a pleasant summer perspiration
that's my old man across the yard he's talking to the meter reader he's telling him the world's sad story how electricity is oil or uranium and so forth... I tell my grandson run over to your grandpa... ask him to sit beside me for a minute... I am suddenly exhausted by my desire to kiss his sweet explaining lips
So, this is pretty funny, but I have to say that their voices are actually really beautiful. And their harmony keen. And by the end, well... it was rather quite poignant.
We have fallen down again tonight In this world it's hard to get it right Trying to make your heart fit like a glove What it needs is love, love, love
Everybody, everybody wants to love Everybody, everybody wants be to loved
Happy is the heart that still feels pain Darkness drains and light will come again Swing open your chest and let it in Just let the love, love, love begin...
"I was pretty surprised to be asked a question like that. It made no sense to me. And then finally I asked her, 'What do you think I fought for over on Omaha Beach?'"
Thank you, Dor, over at Mom Goes Green, for this special contribution.
I know I tend to rant and rave occasionally. Okay, okay, maybe a little more than "occasionally".
But, Michelle Obama's family story is right on about what I love about the American possibility, the American experience, the American DREAM.
While much of the world will waste no time in trying to push someone down, they can't be kept down forever. So, it'd be nice if more of us tried lifting one another up more often than not. And then, maybe we'd really get somewhere... together.
So, I've been fortunate enough to be staying with our very good friends, Jim and Claudette, here in Santa Barbara for the past 5 1/2 weeks. They're so generous and easy to be around. We've become family. They keep wanting to send for Will (and plan on sending him a ransom note for me) and just have us move in. We'd be so lucky.
Well, speaking of moving in, with Spring here, outside of their Kitchen windows, Claudette has a collection of bird houses. And quite a few of them are occupied by
Western Blue Birds.
And a few weeks ago, we heard the first signs of
life, their chicks. Little Western Blue Bird babies... Babies? BABIES?? IT'S A BAYBAY! A BAYBAY! GET. IN. ME. BELLY!!!
They're rather mesmerizing to watch, the flashes of Indigo blue here and there, swooping in and building their nests inside the little cottages, condos and townhouses. And then, bringing home all the groceries and taking care of their families.
They're so busy working, taking care of what they gave life to. It's their sole purpose. They're not distracted by television, or socially constructed angst, or by bullshit gossip about the Sparrows down the street. They're just focused on taking care of their own business... They're own lives. And soon, they'll be coaxing their contributions to the World out of those little boxes and encouraging them
Stumble It!
