Not Giving Up Yet

Whew, a long few months.  It’s amazing how mom’s dementia (plus her stress fracture and UTI) and my own bout with some stomach/digestive issues have twisted my thinking and weighed me down. But I do believe that warmer weather and signs of spring are lifting me out of the darkness.

I am learning how to balance it all. John O’Donohue helps, too:

On the day when
the weight deadens
on your shoulders
and you stumble,
may the clay dance
to balance you.

And when your eyes
freeze behind
the grey window
and the ghost of loss
gets into you,
may a flock of colours,
indigo, red, green
and azure blue,
come to awaken in you
a meadow of delight.

When the canvas frays
in the currach of thought
and a stain of ocean
blackens beneath you,
may there come across the waters
a path of yellow moonlight
to bring you safely home.

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.

And so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life.

The Great Escape

When you can’t remember that you don’t remember, life is frustrating. Last night Mom needed an MRI to see why she was struggling to walk. She winced at every step.

But the good people at the imaging center were running behind. At 10 pm, Mom was ready to go, not sure where she was, or why we were there. The results  will be ready on Monday, but until then, we need to keep her off her feet. That’s not easy when you forget that you aren’t supposed to walk.

David sensed that I needed a break, so we took a 20-hour trip to VA Beach. Seeing this made the quick trip totally worth it:

Sea, Sun, Sand

I am rejuvenated.

What is it about walking in soft, white sand, staring at teal water, or slipping through gentle waves as we sail?

After a long winter of health issues, mom issues, and freezing cold weather, I am ready to — well, ready to continue on. The problems don’t change, but they are certainly easier when I’ve had a break. I’ve enlisted the help of experts for the next few weeks to guide me through some decisions about caring for mom, and that will help. Also, I’m setting up a regular schedule of visits with her so I can designate some printing time. I’ve missed that.

But this morning, my thoughts are back in Turks and Caicos. What a gift.

The mind should be allowed some relaxation, that it may return to its work all the better for the rest. Seneca 

From OnBeing

For One Who Is Exhausted, a Blessing

When the rhythm of the heart becomes hectic,
Time takes on the strain until it breaks;
Then all the unattended stress falls in
On the mind like an endless, increasing weight.

The light in the mind becomes dim.
Things you could take in your stride before
Now become laborsome events of will.

Weariness invades your spirit.
Gravity begins falling inside you,
Dragging down every bone.

The tide you never valued has gone out.
And you are marooned on unsure ground.
Something within you has closed down;
And you cannot push yourself back to life.

You have been forced to enter empty time.
The desire that drove you has relinquished.
There is nothing else to do now but rest
And patiently learn to receive the self
You have forsaken in the race of days.

At first your thinking will darken
And sadness take over like listless weather.
The flow of unwept tears will frighten you.

You have traveled too fast over false ground;
Now your soul has come to take you back.

Take refuge in your senses, open up
To all the small miracles you rushed through.

Become inclined to watch the way of rain
When it falls slow and free.

Imitate the habit of twilight,
Taking time to open the well of color
That fostered the brightness of day.

Draw alongside the silence of stone
Until its calmness can claim you.
Be excessively gentle with yourself.

Stay clear of those vexed in spirit.
Learn to linger around someone of ease
Who feels they have all the time in the world.

Gradually, you will return to yourself,
Having learned a new respect for your heart
And the joy that dwells far within slow time.