What a week!
If it weren’t enough to be in more pain than I’d anticipated, there were the added bonuses of my heart crapping out during surgery and my kidneys shutting down after the fact. When I finally got out of bed at the hospital to walk around I had to tote a “Kool Aid piñata” attached to my IV pole. Internal bleeding- but not much to worry about because it’s normal after you’ve lost an organ and had your innards re-arranged. Besides- they’ll fix that this coming week, with a quick, additional surgery (if necessary). The pain is excruciating. I can’t do anything for myself. Even sitting here, typing, is taxing me.
This was my ~12th surgery that I recall having. I usually go into these things with an “oh well” attitude, because I know that as everything does, this will also pass, and I’ll be better when it’s done. It’s getting harder and harder to sell that to myself as the pain has been intensifying instead of subsiding. (WTF?)
What I miss more than anything right now, is my ability to transcend, to meditate, to openly communicate with the universe. I’m not sure if it’s the narcotics or the pain that are interfering, or if I’m just too weak. Since I couldn’t generate this ethereal state for myself I picked up a book that I had acquired at a sidewalk sale, and read a few pages. The first meditation talked about being still and listening. Okay, ZING! I get it. The last one was about pain. Pain- that ill that infects and drains us, pain that will not heal. Pain, which needs to be accepted, and we must live in spite of. Pain, which we must not hide from, but must let mold us so that we can improve. Sometimes we must be the victims- but only if we do not dwell in the ick of it all; only if we accept these limitations and work with them. Life is a divine gift, in every form.
The color is about to change
The sun-drenched, moisture-parched,
Crown of color
I took for granted
The wisdom of time well spent
Trumps youth’s rich
It’s time… to dye… my hair
The moisture rich mornings always seem to be the ones that move me, and this morning was both cool and foggy. As I untangled the dogs’ leashes I heard that bird call again- the one that I have not been able to erase from my memory. The sound was so rich, trill and happy- like laughter. I heard it again and again. The dogs were busy sniffing the scents of the trailhead, while my eyes stayed glued to the top of the welcoming tree to see if I could get a glimpse of the bird. It did not take long to realize that the sounds were coming from more than one tree- there was another tree down the flat path which also harbored these melodious birds. There was so much frolicking amidst the leaves as I stood watching and smiling.
Two of them shot out of the tree in sync and flew almost directly overhead. They were green- bright green. Parrots!?!? Wild parrots in Ramona? It had never occurred to me that parrots flew free in the wild. Don’t they belong in pet stores and cages? With clipped wings? I giggled- at myself for being so narrow-minded and silly, and at the little gift that I was just given.
How is it that you can pass something by time and time again, and never really see it?
A bush with hues of orange and maroon so rich, that it had extracted my deepest breath. I forgot to breathe. Unprecedented in intensity this indescribable hue of autumn, encapsulated within one mind’s lens, is beauty for the taking.
That feeling is like a bow striking the deepest groan from the strings of a sweetly played cello. Shivers ripple down my spine as my soul quivers. Beauty cannot be owned, but revered.
And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy.
It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand stretched forth,
But rather a heart enflamed and a soul enchanted.
It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear,
But rather an image you see though you close your eyes
and a song you hear though you shut your ears. - Khalil Gibran