Another folk art favorite

Headed to my last physical therapy session - 

then I'll be black and blues -

but more limber - 

at least that's the plan!

You know its a bad shift in a PEDIATRIC ER when...

a teen age male comes running in, 

yelling he's here for his little girl 

who was brought in
by ambulance 

for vaginal bleeding...

and simultaneously 

the four people
standing at the desk
think to themselves

"Which one?"...

while the charge nurse calmly says,

"I need a name."

ps: it goes without saying 
he could only
give a nickname,
not the kids 'real' name 
or birthdate.

Could have fooled me...

These images, 

taken with royal 'imposters', 

were in the London version of the Huffington Post 

over the weekend.

Have to admit, 

as an unrepentant Anglophile,

royal watcher

and someone just plain tired

 of all the negativity in our press,

I can't wait for the news 

of a new Prince or Princess!

Plus, the idea of William and Kate

having to put together their own crib

or stock up on their own 'nappies'

just put a smile on my face.

Maybe this week???
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Speaking of royal babies...
for those who have asked -
Oreo isn't a puppy anymore!

She makes Pearl look absolutely petite!

She's 10 months old - and still growing!

A Favorite

folk art painting

 reclaimed from a 

de-commissioned convent 

in IL 

years ago

which now hangs 

in my living room.

Come, Holy Spirit
indeed.

On the road back to myself

After my last session with my personal trainer,

I was shaky, tired 

and definitely in touch 

with muscle groups I hadn't heard from
in ages...

but the odd thing is, 

I felt I was more 'myself' 

than I had been in years - 

whatever that elusive, 

nebulous concept of selfhood 

means.

Maybe it was simply being more connected, 

more aware 

and 

more relaxed;

more the way my body felt 

at younger stages of my life.

It was great - although don't tell Bob 

(here after referred to as my PT -Personal Trainer) 

or I'm sure he'll make me do more next time!

Since then
I've been flooded with a sense of gratitude

that I did what I had to do 

to get through 30+ years -
even if I'm paying a price now -

and that I'm finding my way out of it!

All movement requires strength and faith, 

no matter how big or small it may look on the outside -

whether you're stepping into the unknown

or stepping into the same thing as yesterday.

It's true, faith is often required to leave a job.

But faith is also required to stay at a job.

Giving thanks to God tonight

that I've been given the strength

to do both.

With profound gratitude for all the wonderful folks 

who will remain

and carry on when I'm gone.

Reason #102 WICWTR

A 12 yr old male 'collapses' from pain at school 

while trying to pee - 

leading to the 'discovery'

that  he has gonorrhea -

leading to the disclosure

that he was sexually abused by his aunt -

leading to the finding

that he got his 15 yr old cousin pregnant.

yup -

not gonna miss it! 

YES

Synchronicity

Literally within minutes of posting yesterday, 

I was in the car, 

on an unexpected errand 

and heard an interview on NPR 

with Sylvia Boorstein - 

practicing Buddhist psychotherapist 

and practitioner of mindfulness -

 talking about how she deals with the demons in her head.

Here's her wonderful response.

Then my own good heart, 

out of compassion, 

takes care of me. 

It all happens 

when I am able to say to myself 

(I honestly do use these very words),

“Sweetheart, you are afraid and in pain. 

Relax. 

Take a breath. 

Let’s pay attention to what is happening. 

Then we’ll figure out what to do.”

OK - 

maybe I'm not quite ready to

joyously jump 

into the fog of the unknown...

but I'm still breathing

and 

figuring out what to do - 

and that has to count

for something! 

The hills are alive…

I swear I almost burst into song in the middle of our conversation. 

Not, not while swinging around 360 degrees in my dirndl skirt…

but as the warty witch/crone from Sondheim's
 Into the Woods, 

exhorting folks to be “careful the things you say, children will listen"…

As most of you know, 

my oldest son, Art Boy is an artist;

(hence the nickname – aren’t I clever?) 

His courage to pursue 

and sustain 

a life in the arts
has been an inspiration to me, 

helping me to think, 

and frequently act with abandon, 

outside the box – 

using all the colors in my tool kit – 

to use all the psychobabble lingo 

that goes along with that metaphor. 

In a nutshell,
he found out weeks ago
that the gallery where he has worked
on and off for years 

is closing 

and he was faced with the prospect of losing his job.

Until a friend stepped in, 

also an artist who works at the gallery.  

Said friend decided to buy the frame shop component of the gallery 

and asked Art Boy to help him get it set up 

and operational 

in a new location 

and take it 

in a new direction.

Then another artist 

(also a friend to both guys) 

decided to buy the gallery 

and asked the artist- turned- business- owner- of- the- frame- shop 

to stay in the gallery 

and continue operations there – 

meaning  my son wouldn’t have to change jobs or location 

although his salary would get a bump up 

and he’d still be working with close friends. 

Dilemma about job insecurity solved, right? 

But no… 

Art Boy wrestled with his heart, 

and his gut, 

and decided that 

same-old-same-partly-new, 

wasn’t what he wanted –

and (this is a direct quote) 

“because he was raised by a woman who’s not afraid to take risks 

and step into the future with faith”,

 he turned the position down 

and instead 

will be jobless
(and healthcare-less) 

for a period of months 

while he uses the grant money he recently got 

to buy time to just paint – 

and see what other opportunities might come up. 

I almost screamed through the phone –

"WHAT? 

Who is the idiot that taught you THAT nonsense? 

You need security, you need a job; 

to hell with what you want in your soul!”

 And that’s when it hit me… 

all those things I was dying to say to him 

have been messages in my head to ME lately! 

Truth is,
as more and more people find out about my decision to retire
in a few months – 

with little income, 

no guarantees about healthcare, 

security 

or the underpinnings of a ‘normal’ life - 

it’s gotten scarier; 

it’s gotten more and more ‘real’. 

MY decisions are hard enough for ME to handle – 

but, when they’re echoed by your children,
with pride, no less,

it takes ‘real’ to a whole ‘nother level! 

Funny, I don’t ever remember telling my kids 

to “do as I say” 

OR 

“do as I do”! 

In one of my recent books about walking the Camino, 

I recently read “We carry our fears in our backpacks”. 

At the risk of channeling another cinematic character 

(this time from Jaws) –

We’re gonna need a bigger boat  backpack!

Definitions - getting them off my chest

When is a coup not a coup?

Apparently when it's done by 'a fledgling democracy' that our government supports with over 1 BILLION $$$ in military aid!

I'm sorry, but when the military suspends the constitution, arrests the democratically elected President of a country and puts in a new leader - in my book, that's a coup!

The sad reality of living in a democracy means you've got a 50/50% chance of not liking the guy who gets elected to run the country.  

Ask the Tea Party now - or those of us who suffered under George Bush for 8 years!

That's the way ballot chad hangs, pal.

Suck it up - and work hard so the next time you get to vote the outcome is different.

It also seems to me that maybe,
just maybe,
until we can prove our system operates more effectively,
we shouldn't be touting our way of governing as the only way to be.

Can we not just agree that not every country is ready for 'democracy'?

~~~~~~~~~~

When is a 'whistle blower' not a whistle blower?

When he gives an interview with a Korean newspaper
and admits
he deliberately got a job with the NSA
to get evidence of the extent of surveillance
 being done by the agency.

That makes you a premeditated spy,
if not an outright traitor. 

May you rot in some hot, sweaty 'fledgling democracy'!

~~~~~~~~~~

When is debris in the water, not debris?

When it's touted as healthy detox water!

Note to self - more lemon, less cucumber.

~~~~~~~~~~

When is a trip to a rural antique mall

an all day drive?

When you're so busy talking to a friend,

you over shoot your target by 100 miles.

Apparently there were things in 

we were meant to see...

although I can't imagine what it was!

Made for an interesting weekend excursion tho'!

How was your weekend?

reflection

Reason #101 WICWTR

(Why I can’t wait to retire)

 Chronic runaway; involved with sex trafficking (more than 100 known ‘partners’) and drugs (snorted, shot and smoked), multiple psych admissions.

ODD, AD/HD with zero insight to the risks in her behavior …

and she’s 12.

It goes without saying that this isn't her, right?

Freedom -

it didn't happen at a picnic,
parade
 or BBQ.

What are YOU willing to die for?

Quietness doesn't mean inactivity

I've been busy hearing about the wedding plans of these two,

participating in a photo challenge,

(the prompt was 'green'),

playing,

reading, 

going to physical therapy,

trying to walk without pain,

listening to sons in transition,

thinking deep thoughts, 

reading

and working.

Sometimes,

when things feel uncertain

and very much

in flux,

I just need to retreat to silence

and let my thoughts,

then words,

shape themselves

into what they need to be.

They're not quite 'formed' yet.

Be back soon.

Need to get me some of this...

'cause I got nothin'.

Day Lilly

Through Pilgrim eyes

I think I’ve turned a corner…

maybe not physically 

but certainly in my understanding 

of what’s going on 

with my leg and my hip.

I came across a Nigerian saying the other day – 

The day on which one starts out 

is not the time to start ones preparations.

I’m embarking on changes for the rest of my life – 

career changes, to be sure  - 

but also changes in the way I care for 

and relate to my body 

and what it’s capable of.

I think my recent injury, 

struggle and pain 

are all part and parcel of lessons I need to learn - 

that the changes won’t be easy; 

nor will they be fast;

nor will they necessarily fit my idea 

of the rate of speed 

at which they should occur.

And, 

while I can seek help from others 

who are there to guide me, 

I’m, ultimately, the one who will 

have to learn to listen to my body 

and do what needs to be done

to move forward.

On some days, 

that might be pushing myself in physical therapy 

and on other days, 

that might be letting myself read on the couch, 

resting.

I'm also fairly sure there's a reminder in there 

(which I intend to heed) 

about how fragile these bodies of ours are 

and how much I've taken mine for granted!

I’m not retiring and leaving for the Camino tomorrow 

or next week 

or next month.

I've started the preparations.

I’ve put things in place 

and continue to head in the direction 

I intuitively know is right for me –

past the fear, 

past the security of only doing what I’ve done for so long.

Comfort zone??

I’m WAAYY past that now!

I’ve got to start NOW to have pilgrim eyes –

eyes that can see the long path 

and keep moving forward 

yet paradoxically

being content to take it as it comes.

Is it Monday already?

The weekend didn't exactly work out the way I planned - 

rain prevented my playing too long in the garden 

and pain was more of a factor than I'd hoped.

But I read,

 played inside,

and got a lovely surprise - 

apparently single women all over the area 

are planning their moves - 

there will be a bouquet toss

in the fall 

in our family!

On the verge of new things...

My kind of people -

I'm determined to have some fun this weekend...

gimpy leg or not...

and, having been inspired by these Little People, 

you can be sure it will include my camera

and my garden! 

I don't care WHAT combination of meds it takes to get there!

You'll see!