The beat goes on. Air here is more breathable after the fires from Canada and Eastern Washington. Red sun, red moon.

A little over a year ago, a dear friend and colleague lost her newborn. She has been posting all month to review the final month of her pregnancy, the birth and the death of her daughter. I can barely read it for the pain. And yet I do as do other readers. We are held in a web of suffering and grief with her, the true meaning of karuna, a Pali word that means compassion or to suffer with. In knowing and befriending our own losses, we can then feel into and support the unbearable suffering of another. Trump can't feel sorrow for the the death of McCain because he hasn't swept the pathway to his own sorrow. I know I'm being generous when I would rather trash him, but today, the strength of the planetary suffering is what I'm open to.

These days I feel a split in myself. I go to clinic and see pregnant mothers and meet newborns. I buy veggies and bread. I walk the dog and swim in the lake. I meditate by myself and with my friends. So on one hand, my life is eventful and peaceful. On the other, I obsess about the news, I am in touch with the most dreadful sadness in myself. I feel the trees and plants struggling with the lack of water and the extreme heat. Smoke fills the air and drops ash on my car. I literally have to turn away in order to function, to show up, to stay here in the world of car washes and movies and children and dogs. I feel myself opening and closing, the pain ebbing and flowing. I don't feel futility or hopelessness. I'm just present to the pain. As Ram Das once said, "On one hand, life is beautiful and on the other it's all shit." Holding both views is the practice of equanimity, which I just don't have right now. I vacillate between the two polls with a resulting sense of vertigo.

I continue to turn to concept of 'power over' as opposed to 'power from within'. Racism, misogyny, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, all these hatreds are based in fear and therefore loathing. Even the Earth's body is not exempt. As we continue to polarize, the Earth and her creatures reveal the depth of our delusion about our separateness.

Ruth King, author of "Mindful of Race" reminds us:

Interdependence: This is the practice of remembering that we are part of something larger than our individual selves-a karmic web of humanity-and what we do has impact.

Compassion: The practice of compassion is a weapon of mass healing.

Harmlessness: The practice of nonharming in body, speech and mind is essential for respect and safety.

May we all be held in love and caring today. May we all be free.

Air from fires making a haze. Can't see the lake or the mountains. Just heard from a mom who may be in early labor. Maybe tonight...

Swam in the lake. No one was there. Just me and Felix. I threw the ball forever. Now I think a nap is in order. If I'm gonna be up all night, I better rest now. Next year, I'm cutting back even more on my call days and working even less. I have to. I must. I want to. For the opportunity to stay in my underwear all day or in my bathing suit and a towel.

Even in winter.

Been away from this here too long. A lotta family time and retreats and so forth. Went to Alaska with my brother and sister. They caught halibut, I didn't. And there were NO SALMON because of, you know. Here in Puget Sound an Orca mother has been mourning the death of her calf. The whales need the fish, the bears need the fish...I visited SE Alaska 25 years ago and the fish were so thick in the streams, you could walk across them to the other side.

In California, the fires are out of control. Smoky air here, too thick to stay in Ashland where I had planned to camp.

I am in despair, y'all.

Our beautiful suffering Earth.

It has been blazing hot here. Brown grass and dying trees.

How are all of you?

The babies are still being born.

I made 24 jars of wild blackberry jam in the last few days. My fingers are currently purple. 

Blackberries will make you suffer. Their thorns are wicked. I only shed a little blood this year. I insist on picking berries in short sleeves and flip-flops. 

About to go to BC, Nanaimo to be exact. Gotta take a ferry there and I agreed to pick up two guys to take to the retreat with me. Is it important to be on retreat in these troubled times?? I'm questioning everything. 

If we can't get rid of the awful occupant of the White House, please disable him in November. From our lips to g-d's ear. K? I don't mean put him in a wheelchair or something. Just render him harmless. Foolish destructive horrid man. 

May we find peace and justice for all beings, everywhere. 

 

Martha Washington Park.  Ryan Dela Cruz.

In these dangerous times, I have the most excellent news.

I bought a pair of overalls, yes, denim overalls. I wore them all day today. I think I might wear them every day for the rest of my life. I can spruce them up with jewelry for the many galas I attend, dress down with flip flops and gardening gloves, the possibilities are endless. I thought of you, Mary.

It started with a woman I met in the park where I often run my dog. Her overalls had dirty knees, a look I know well. I asked her where she got her fabulous outfit and she said 'the Gap'. So you know I went home and hit the computer and there they were, Gap overalls.

O joy, O rapture.

If I'm going to weigh, um, what I weigh and have to wear a damn bra, then I'm wearing overalls. All the time.

My olden days overalls had a rainbow embroidered on the front pocket. I just might put one on these overalls.

And I painted my new mailbox:

And got a new tattoo:

And I'm getting another one tomorrow.

Fuck it.

I'm working on my book and I've set up the ginormous canvas in my studio that has been languishing for way too long. Every day I will spend time in artistic reverie and meditation and life giving pursuits.

Take that, bad news.

Yes, we are in a catastrophe of catastrophic proportions. But even the Buddha enjoyed himself. If I'm still catching babies and being a part of that whole amazing process, I might as well sleep on the couch sometimes and stay in my pajamas until 2 PM. (at least the bra situation is handled when wearing pjs.)

And one more thing. I spent 2 HOURS going exactly nowhere this afternoon. I needed to visit two newborns north of my home and before you could say 'Jack Robinson', I was stuck in the most gawdawful traffic jam. When I turned around, I got stuck going that way too. It was so stupid. I am pretty patient but I eventually called the mommas and said, 'uh, see you tomorrow'. Apparently having Amazon headquarters in our town has fucked the traffic to kingdom come. And the Mariners game. And some random highway closure.

I despair of a solution to this mess. My house is peaceful with bird feeders and a view of the lake and mountains so...I'll just stay here.

Finally-my guilty secret. Outlanders!!!! I haven't read the books. I bet they're kinda terrible bodice-ripper things. But the series on HBO, hooboy. My daughter got me hooked. Filmed in Scotland (gorgeous) with a hunk of burning love interest (no doubt real Scots men did NOT look like him 200 years ago!) but it's part historical fiction, science fiction, soft porn, oh I could go on...and I'm a lesbian!! Who cares, hot sex is hot sex, right? Yes, it's trash and I'm sick of the theme song but I wait breathlessly for the next installment.

So there you have it. Not a political moment in this here post.

Love and kisses,

Beth

Why are my bras too tight?

I have been assiduously counting calories and exercising to no avail.

I hate bras anyway but for the sake of decency, I have to suit up to go out in public.

I have a new tattoo so no swimming for two weeks.

Seattle weather is currently like a 15 year old, emotionally labile with sever mood swings and temperature highs and lows and occasional rain. Global warming is no joke, y'all.

Reading World as Lover, World as Self by Joanna Macy. Depressing and inspiring in equal measure.

Heard Michael Pollen last night speak about his new book/research on psychedelics and new science to treat depression/addiction/anxiety. Very interesting. Very interesting indeed.

Saw a movie last night, "First Reformed," got great reviews but WEIRD.

As the credits began to roll after an abrupt ending, someone in front of us said, "what the fuck"

Which summed it up.







Last night a group of young men decided to go to a nearby park because the park is supposedly haunted so they could tell ghost stories.

A car pulled up and shot into the trees and a 17 year old is now dead. He was about to graduate from HS.

I went to the park this morning to run the dog and saw memorial flowers and grieving people. Didn't know what happened but saw the crime scene tape.

Looked it up. Found the story.

We've gone crazy, we're going crazy, we're not right.

Have been crying most of the day. 17. His poor parents. Young man of color.

Why?

There is no time to waste now. There is no more time. What are we doing to be kind, to tell the truth, to vote the bastards out of office,  to be agents of change, one neighbor at a time?

Ryan Dela Cruz. That was his name.

This morning despair has flowered. Thinking about a baby who died 9 months ago and her sorrowing parents. The biosphere, o, our beautiful planet. I had to turn off the news when it was announced that permits for killing wild animals in Alaska would be sold...bears, wolves, other predators. Hunters allowed to use dogs and bait, allowed to kill mothers and their young.

Why?

Reading Joanna Macy's book, " World and Lover, World as Self". She devoted a chapter to despair and the uses of despair as an incentive to become active. The hope of hopelessness.

What is it that I am doing to be part of the conversation? This weekend I begin another class on racism for white allies. I may be alone in the room but I will show up to tell my stories and give insights that may land for others. Sleeping through these times is not an option. Avoiding the conversation won't work. If we are interdependent, then every loss is universal, every life, no matter how small or insignificant. It feels like a collective dying off.

The park near my house, with a few old growth trees and bald eagles, has had a fern die-off. A large area brown and wilted. Scientists with their clip boards roam around in overalls, taking notes. Salal and skunk cabbage are ok but ferns, oldest plants on the planet, are taking their leave.

What have each of us done today to counter this planetary suffering?

Metta, karuna, muditta, upekka.

Oh, it's been a long time.

I finished my facilitator training with Against the Stream. I went on another retreat with an amazing teacher-monk, historian, teacher, writer and all around genius. Analayo. While in Barre, Mass, it was revealed that Noah Levine who started ATS has been accused of sexual misconduct, lots of it.

Shite.

Fuck.

So I left the East coast and came back to Seattle where friends and I started Dharma womxn, a community for womxn and womxn identified folk who want an alternative to the local fuckery. We meditate together, talk about the dharma and eat. Eating is important. Builds community and is tasty. We meet at my house. Surrounded by Buddha stuff, statues and paintings and such. I've even started a Quan Yin on my garage door. I hope she doesn't turn out looking insane or malevolent.

I need to renounce the news cycle. Really. It continues to scare and mystify me. I went to visit a day old baby today and fell into a conversation with the (beautiful) dad whose parents are from St Kitts/St Lucia (where I trained as a midwife student in 1985!). He was born in Bristol, UK and then his folks moved to Canada. We talked about other places to live-he's got dual citizenship in the UK and Canada but a green card here. We thought Canada might work out but of course that's not the answer. Ok, how about this. I buy the NYT on Sunday and that's it, all I read. Nah, I won't be able to stick with it. Well, there's always SNL, they got it going on. And what about the Michelle Wolf? My friend Casey and I were whooping and hollering watching her. Damn, she killed.

I discovered who called about the Black man in my yard. My Mexican neighbors said it was the Chinese family a few doors down. The elders who live there don't speak English so I have to catch one of the younger family members to talk to. And I'll leave my phone number with them so they can call me, not the cops. And Victor and I thought a block party would be a good idea.  Cliff has a huge wood fired barbecue grill on wheels. I oughta invite him for sure.

We can learn to stop being afraid of each other.

Spring is springing all over the place.

Dear ones-

I've been away on retreat and a dharma training that is over, at least for now. I am hoping to get invited back but I won't know until June.

But.

Today is Thursday. It is bright and sunny and the dog is sighing at my feet. I've planted peas and spinach in the hopes that the weather won't be totally weird and refuse to nurture little sproutlets.

I have a Black Lives Matter sign in my living room window. I'm currently reading "So You Want to Talk About Race" by a local author, very smart and thoughtful book. I'm not saying any of this to pat myself on the back or be told I'm so woke or anything. I am saying that I am a serious student of both Buddhism and injustice in all it's forms.

And then this happens:

As I was waiting in the Burbank airport  on Monday(Hi Elizabeth!) for my plane back to oh-so-white Seattle, I got a frantic call from my daughter, who had arrived in Seattle earlier that day with her boyfriend. Eden is dating Darius, a lovely, nerdy Black man who works in IT and reads books about wine and speaks slowly because he has a slight stutter.

Apparently a neighbor called the cops because there was 'suspicious activity' at my house and a Black man who was probably a burglar was in my back yard. Four, count 'em, four squad cars, came to my house and thank gawd, Eden answered the door to four of Seattle's finest. They announced that they were investigating a burglary and they had body cameras and audio equipment. Eden lost her shit, of course. Actually, she remained calm and told them she was the daughter of the owner and the Black man was her boyfriend. They went away after neighbors came out to see what was going on. This was all in the middle of the day. Darius had taken a walk (!) and someone decided he was an unknown stranger and of course, he was walking while Black.

My first thought was to leave the country and go somewhere where this doesn't happen. I believe I muttered, "Fuck this fucking racist country".  But obviously I need to stay here and continue the good fight.

I called neighbors to see if anyone called in a 911 call. Nope, no luck. Today I went to the nearest cop shop and spoke to the rather defensive desk cop about the situation and what to do. She couldn't give me the source of the call but she gave me the 'community relations' guy to call. I did, got his VM. zI thought about the local news stations...

I have white  friends and I have friends of color. I do not want my friends of color to be harassed when they come to my house. I don't want anyone who is non-white, female, queer, disabled to be denied their human rights. Period. At all.

My next step is to draft a letter for my neighborhood to tell the story and give them my name and phone number. Call me, don't call the cops. Calling the cops is what gets folks killed. I'll leave letters  in mailboxes.

I've had all kinds of folks come here when I'm not here, to stay here, to use the hot tub, etc. No white person has ever been harassed 'walking around in my back yard".

Any thoughts, dear reader? I won't let it go. Can't.

Dear hearts,

Today is my birthday and I got a facial, a haircut and best of all I did this:

I have loved XX skiing since 1975 when I learned how. It is the most excellent sport. It warms you up. It uses all your muscles. It encourages you to visit beautiful snow covered mountains. It feels like flying when all the conditions are right. And today all the conditions were perfect. The snow was new and groomed. There were hardly any other people. The SUN came out. And I was with Holly, my buddy who is my fellow traveler on all things outside. It was the most excellent day. Well, my right knee was complaining and at one point I was moaning a bit in pain but hey, I'm 68 and still moving. AND I told a few folks that passed me that it was my birthday and I got sung to twice.

Today was very fine and I'm glad I'm alive to feel the cold air and eat a mitten-full of snow with my best friend. And move my body that can still move.

BTW-my hair stylist daughter told me if I want my hair to grow, I can't cut it. I endured for as long as I could but today I broke down. Now I actually feel better without weird hair sticking out everywhere. And it will grow. It will.

Oh dear. Yesterday, I said to Felix, the power poodle, that I was so tired of fighting with him. When he's on his leash, he practically pulls my arm out of the socket so that I have a perpetually sore shoulder and neck. After today's chiropractic appointment, I went to the pet store and bought him a harness instead of a collar as I had heard that this might help. I asked the nice older lady about 'anti-anxiety' meds or something as I have been using homeopathics with no discernible difference in his behavior.

She recommended CBD drops or in coconut oil. Whaaaa???? So I'm game. She tells me how much to give him and 'You can't give him too much!' And there's no way he will be stoned... I believed her. I dutifully measured out a teaspoon in his food and he gulped it right down.

Oh dear. My dog is high. Right now. He's standing and swaying in the living room. I feel so guilty. I've told him it'll wear off soon. No really, he's staring out the window and swaying a little. He's looking confused too.

I've done a terrible thing. He is wagging his tale when I talk to him but he's definitely not my normal hyperactive, loony tunes dog. I wish I could enjoy this moment of peace but I just feel guilty.

PS. It's snowing here and so pretty.

I am such a bad dog owner. Bad, bad.

My birthday is in a week. I'm on perpetual hold with the department of health, trying to track down my midwifery license. A T & T threatened to cancel my phone because they hadn't been paid for 3 months. All because I'm no longer the business owner and all the accounts have changed. In addition, I got an astronomical property tax bill last week. I don't know how we are supposed to retire and support ourselves. I will continue to work in the clinic but I am ambivalent now about attending births anymore. It's hard to resist when I've delivered all the kids in a family but damn, it's tiring. I could just work a clinic day a week and take call if there is someone on vacation.

Bla bla bla.

My neighbor's bamboo is invading my back yard. I spoke to them about it but they like the privacy screen and they aren't really interested in removing it. They offered to hire the guy who painted their house last year to see if he could dig it out. Um, no. Bamboo is a beast to remove and then you have to dig down 2 feet and put in a barrier. And getting it out is tricky. I'm afraid i'm gonna have to hire a bamboo expert who will be costly and, well, see above. One contractor suggested I hire a lawyer but nope, life it too short for that kind of conflict.

I sat in the hot tub at my pool and talked with the usual old folks which I am becoming. Senior housing, the cost of senior housing, free gyms, don't get sick. It was depressing. One lady has had breast cancer, another has diabetes. One guy comes with 2 frozen water bottles. He sits in the tub with one bottle on the back of his neck and he drinks the other one. When both bottles are empty, he gets out and goes home.

Wow.

I'm just complaining here.

2 hummingbirds visit my feeder regularly. One (I think the male) has a ruby throat. They are both iridescent green. They make a 'chip chip' sound when they are hanging on a branch.

https://www.poetrysociety.org/psa/poetry/crossroads/own_words/KavehAkbar/

Doggone it. I just listened to this song that came up randomly in my play list.

Early this morning I volunteered to count the homeless for the State wide annual count. From 2-6 AM. I figured, hey, my work hours suck most of the time anyway.

I was in a team of three, a guy from Vashon Island, Gregory, our guide who is a homeless man with intimate info about the area we are canvassing and me. We had flashlights, hot tea, gloves and hats and raincoats. We were given maps of the unincorporated city which we deciphered with the help of the dome light in the car.

Gregory talked almost non-stop. His knowledge was vast and complicated. We learned that there are camps deep in the woods that line the freeway where local cops can't or won't go to because they are so remote. Two men died of exposure with the cold snap in December. Pretty young girls get hooked on meth and they lose their looks. Renton, the city where we were, has three meals a day for 'unhoused' folk. There are places to shower and relax if you're a family with kids. Otherwise, the shelters kick you out after 6AM so you have to find warm and dry places to hang out until the shelters reopen.

Gregory lost his housing after losing his 30 year job because of an illness. Sometimes he stays with his mom ( but her apartment is too warm at 70 degrees), sometimes he has an apartment. He was going for a job interview the coming week that he was excited about. He explained that there were folk who preferred to live outside-no rent, no landlord. One encampment even has a generator, heat and light. He seemed quite impressed with this situation. When my Vashon Island partner asked him about his wishes for the future, Gregory said, "Oh, I want an apartment of my own!"

Seattle is cold and dark and wet, for many days a year. Be well and safe, all my brothers and sisters.

It's been a week. The women's march in the cold wet Seattle streets. We met in my living room for poster making and tea. We ducked out of the march to warm up and eat Thai food.

The next day I headed over to Bainbridge Island to see my dear dance teacher. I walked on and managed to take the wrong ferry and went to Bremerton. Oops. I came back to Seattle, got on the right ferry and about 10 minutes into the ride, witnessed a woman my very age step over the railing and fall into Puget Sound. She left a pair of shoes and a note and she said to a group of young women who were standing nearby, "I'm going now."

At first I couldn't believe what I was seeing...then people were screaming and running around, yelling for the captain to stop the ferry. These are giant vessels, not easy to stop. Someone threw a life preserver in the water near her but she was far away by the time a dinghy went after her with a rescue crew. They scooped her up and brought her back the the ferry. We headed back to Seattle where she was met by paramedics and an ambulance. 

I'm exhausted today. What cheers me is to look at my living room carpet sparkling with glitter from our women's march signs. Right now I'm writing this post with a down comforter on my lap and the dog beside me. My body is tired and sore and so is my heart. 

This morning I gave a talk about the 'undefended heart.' It's hard, comrades, to stay open to the world as it is. We do our little part to understand the roots of suffering and to heal ourselves, for the benefit of all beings. The woman on the ferry is with me today, her gesture, the shoes she left behind and the sobbing teenagers who watched her flight. How hard it is to stay here and feel the pain. We know. We're holding you in kindness. May you be well. May you be at ease. 

Dears,

I haven't been here for a while. On retreat in California, another desert retreat, this time with women (or womyn or womxn). We've been having a lively discussion about the proper word. Womyn was coined back in the day by white liberal feminists, according to the internet. Womxn is more inclusive of POC and trans persons so...like Latinx is not gender specific as is Latina or Latino. Whew. And asking what pronouns a person prefers is encouraged because we make assumptions, don't we and we can be wrong.

My trans friend is just a woman, end of the discussion. Actually she said, "I am a fucking woman".

We're all getting ready for the women's/womxn's march on Saturday. We're meeting for signage at my house and taking light rail to the rally. I missed the march last year because I was in Burma but I'm going this year. I hope the turnout is huge. The MLK rally here was sizable. I was working.

Last night I went to a training to count the homeless in King county next week. We form teams, one of us is a formerly homeless person and we hit the streets at 2AM. From 2 to 6 we move through encampments, find cars and RVs to count. We don't disrupt folks, or wake them or invade their spaces. They apparently have algorithms to assess the numbers. The tally is rather complicated. I learned that King County has the third highest homeless population in the country. Very depressing.

Gosh, I sound so lecture-y. Well, the county is going to hell.

In other news, I spent some time with a road runner while I was in the desert. He/she/they was, um, running along and he stopped to eye me. I just sat down on the sand and talked to him. I admired his feathers and his long legs. We sat in companionable silence for a good bit. My father's ghost is always with me when I encounter the wild. I didn't hear coyotes this trip but I know they're out there. The desert is very special. In the winter it is tolerable; 70's during the day and 40's at night. So hardy, those plants and animals.

This momma is in a tub of water, making noise and breathing loudly with contractions. I will miss being at births but I do love my soft warm bed. And my poor knees are so achey now. I'm a regular old woman/womyn/womxn now. With friends who are half my age.

Two films: The Shape of Water and Call Me By Your Names. See both to be sustained by the goodness of humans, even in heartbreak.

I'll be with all my sisters and brothers on Saturday. We must look honestly at one another and stand up for what we know is right. See you there.

Race is a specious classification of humans created by Europeans (whites) to assign human worth and special status, using himself or white as the model of humanity and the height of human achievement, for the purpose of establishing and maintaining privilege and power for those who would become white.

Dr Maulana Karenga
Dr Michael Washington
Barbara Major

Back and forth to meditation retreats. Last one in Joshua Tree, California. The cacti are prehistoric. Their bones litter the sand. Bunnies, lots of bunnies. Coyotes at night, yipping, barking from peak to peak. There was a swimming pool. Dry heat, everything dries out, sinuses, skin, feet.

Going back in January.

My daughter was with me. Eden. It was lovely to be with her. She did it. She got quiet. She wants to cook at a retreat in the future. :-).

Headed for a retreat on Vashon Island, a very different environment, wet, cold, dark. Dorm rooms. Oh did I say. The Joshua Retreat Center was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright.

Cool.

Reading dharma books. Eating the tough winter veggies that are still standing outside. Kale, chard, an occasional onion.

The heat is on. Appreciating warm socks, a big coat, a scarf from Goodwill, the night sky.

Winter approaches. The leaves are turning, wind is blowing. About to leave again, this time for Joshua Tree retreat where it is 90 degrees... Eden and I are going together. I am thrilled that my daughter will be coming with me. It's been my intention for all these years to never proselytize, I mean Buddhists don't really to that except for back in the day when I was asked 'Do you chant 'nom yo ko renga kyo?' Uh, no. Or the Hari Krishna people. Whoa, they were um, interesting. 'Have you been saved?' was another one.

What is it about us humans? We want everyone to agree with us, our world view, our belief system and then if we get push back, the other person is to be despised and shunned. Herd mentality? We all have guns in our community and we want to keep it that way? We all go to the same church? What the hell.

Indeed. What. The. Hell.

Tomorrow I go to the deep woods to be in silence for 5 days. 5 blessed days. Simple food, a routine of bells and walking and a bit of time with my teacher. Quiet. No electronics. A deer or two. The creek.

my church

Heroic Tales in Spite of Daily News Cycle

My tenant Ren came and said, "There's a dog down in the greenbelt and I think she's tangled up down there. Ren is taller than I am so she could see, which helps.

The greenbelt is my back yard. It's VERY steep, covered with blackberries and nettles. The trees are below but the slope is treacherous. Down in a nook was a small pair of ears and a little face. She barked, not able to move. So I said, 'Let's go figure it out".

We went to the trail at the bottom of the street and tried to bushwack, nope. We climbed back up the hill under the power lines, very steep, but nope. We came back to the back yard and decided to rappel down on a rope, which I had, hooray. I tied the rope to a tree trunk and Ren handed herself down to the pup. After offering treats and ascertaining that she wasn't injured, Ren held her in her arms and climbed back up the slope.

She had a name and phone number on her collar so we called it. The guy said she'd been missing for 3 weeks (!!). She was very thin with a goopy eye. We fed her cat food and gave her water. She quivered and shook.

Her owners arrived and we discussed a nearby vet to take her to. I was, of course, suspicious of them but they seemed sincere and they came over immediately.

When Ren got to the edge of the yard with 'Lucy', we both cried. We rescued a little being, something we could do in this world.

Prince and Tom

Tomorrow Sara and I close the deal. OMG. Today is the last day for me to hold the financial reins, so to speak. OMG.

I hired a financial planner/investment advisor dude. OMG. (To manage my millions, har har)

I have stacks of dharma books on my desk, awaiting my perusal. I am a student, as you know. Again, I am a student.

Yesterday I raced back to the birth center to just barely catch a nice baby boy. What does my future look like...I don't know.

Except.

The sun is shining, I'm going for a swim, I AM going on retreat at the beginning of October with my beloved teacher Adrianne for 5 whole days and I'm still in my bathrobe at 12:30. And I'm doing a dharma talk on forgiveness this Sunday. "Forgiveness happens only when we completely given up on changing the past." -Nancy Anderson.

"I see my light come shining, from the west down to the east. Any day now, any day now, I shall be released." -The Band.

I haven't looked at the news once today. I'm observing a moratorium, for 24 hours I won't get sucked into the national embarrassment/fuckery/nonsense/fear-based awfulness. I can do it! I'm strong! I have will power!!!

May all beings have peace, tenderness and safety today.

This morning we had a baby boy after an exciting ambulance ride. O the firefighters and medics were so nice and gentlemanly in their black shoes and uniforms. And that momma was the hero of the story, pushing out a baby who was FACING US and his head wasn't tucked down but straight up-if you must know, she had to push extra hard to get him out and she did. She just did. The ordinary extraordinary women I am privileged to hang out with, it's astounding what we can do because we have to.

Then tonight I answered a call from a woman who is miscarrying the only baby she has ever conceived. She was crying and I was listening and comforting. Nothing to do except to grieve.

The great wheel of life. At the end of it all, I hope I can look back and see I did a good job, not a perfect job but a good job. A good enough job.

Watching Ken Burns first installment of 'Vietnam' on PBS. Please tune in. I had no idea how long that country was under siege, how many presidents had their eye on the 'situation' and sent $$ and troops covertly. What is it about us humans that we must take other countries, people hostage? Why do we do that? Endless misery.

End of this month, my clinic will once again feed homeless kids in a church basement. I think we're going on 4 years we've been doing this. I have my regulars, folks we've delivered who show up to make a mess o' food in a truly decrepit kitchen. I mean. The burners on the stove are iffy, there aren't any decent knives and the lino is, well the floors need replacing. We make it work, time after time. I do a Costco run, we always have food left over and we feed hungry children.

Going on two retreats in October. I'm beyond weary. We lost a baby and I'm holding so much grief. I want the silence of the forest, simple meals made by someone else and a little bed I can sleep in. No cell phone, no internet, just the quiet dharma hall and my beloved Canadian teacher leading us in chants in her wobbly voice. Refuge, I'm seeking refuge. Someone asked me tonight if I was doing a 'spiritual bypass'. Quite the opposite. I'm not looking to transcend the pain, rather to go deeply into the pain, to hold it with tenderness and love. The loss of a child is a profound loss. All over the world are parents who have lost children and there is a web that connects them all. Grief levels us, makes us more compassionate.

As our very planet suffers, we who are made of earth and sky, we open to the pain of it all. Precious, our lives. How we spend our time. How we treat each other. How we treat ourselves. It's all we have, in the end. Staying open, letting the pain open us in ways we hadn't expected. Softening to love and wisdom and grace.

It's gonna happen. I'm selling my business at the end of September. Sara and I will sit down with lawyers and the BANK and sign a large pile of papers and then they drop a check into my bank account and we shake hands and toast and hoo-boy.

The first time I bought a house, the procedure was about the same. It was me and my realtor and the escrow guy and the BANK and legal pad sized forms in triplicate. I went home after and went to bed. Even though I was signing on to a piddling amount of mortgage, to me at the time, it felt like I was signing away my first born. Gha...

Anyway, this process has taken about a year. And the end is in sight. I am so ready to be done. I'll still work but the business of the business won't be my responsibility anymore. I can't wait.

Here at the birth center with a family in labor. The parents are deaf and they are here with an interpreter. A very expensive interpreter. Which insurance won't pay for, natch. I've made the commitment to provide an interpreter in honor of my deaf mother who had nobody with her for the births of her four children, not even her husband. She didn't sign but that's not the point. Every woman deserves to be supported in her language when she's laboring.

There's a memorial for a baby this Saturday. I can't say much here but the whole community is heartbroken. I'm heartbroken. I'd like to go live in the woods now. With the bears and the deer and the wild birds.

In these times, may we all find peace in our hearts and lives.

I'm indulging in a bit of anxiety/nervousness/fear mongering etc. I brought soup to work today that is, ah, inedible so I ate the avocado and the apple sauce and decided I was satisfied.

I hate dealing with money. I'm done being the boss. I don't wanna do it anymore. I want to be done, to give the responsibilities to someone else, someone who likes to deal with money, who is good at it and not intimidated. Why don't I have faith anyway?? Sometimes I do have faith and other times I don't. Ghaaaaa.

I have two tats on my forearms. One side says 'right now' and the other side says 'it's like this'. A saying from Ajahn Sumedo, a teacher of Buddhism. Cuz it's true. And there's not a thing we can do about it.

Sometimes I'm so anxious and triggered, I want to run off into the wild to be eaten by a bear. Other times, I'm good.

I sure as shit would be happier if we didn't have the ongoing fuckery in the White House.

May all beings in the path of the hurricane and the floods be safe.

Here we are, brown grass in Seattle because it hasn't rained in a long time. In Seattle, that's weird. So weird.

Home after a long birth and so tired. Beloved family and baby.

Want to hide out and read Anne Lamott and eat blueberries. Don't want any more horror from the idiot in chief. Not a choice to withdraw and stay 'safe'. We must engage, stand up, face our demons, resist injustice.

No choice. Not now. Too much is at stake.

blackberry jam------fig jam

Yup, at another birth. This momma isn't even acting like she's in labor but she is. Some kind of pain threshold. We're hanging out in the living room while she, her partner and her friends are all in the bedroom talking and laughing. And she's at least 6 cm dilated. Go figure.

Gearing up to go to the Bay area for my next facilitator training. I'm supposed to give a presentation on the lineage we're in. What happened after the Buddha woke up anyway? 400 years of oral tradition, monks and nuns reciting the suttas. In Burma they still memorize the suttas. And there are hundreds of them.

Anyway, I have permission to create a visual aid so I'm gonna make a flow chart with Gautama at the top and then the stream of all the different types of Buddhism. Is this boring to report? Probably. I don't care. Well, the Christians have all their denominations and sects and whatnot. There's vipassana and zen and Tibetan and so forth. And they argue and debate and discuss. When Buddhism came to the US and the West, it morphed again.

As a teaching, there is great flexibility and inquiry in Buddhism. There is so much to know! I do feel like I've been slacking in the studies department. And now, it's all I want to read. There are scholars, mostly monks and nuns who have the time...while I'm staying up all night in other people's houses waiting on their babies.

Thank you, dear co-op.

Once again, I'm waiting on a momma, this one her 4th baby so she's an old hand. She predicts when this one will come so I'm sitting on the couch wondering if I should just wander over there and hang at her house. It's dark now and there's no traffic, thank the goddess of all things birth-wise.

I must say, D Trump continues to be a horse's ass. No transgender in the military because their health care is so expensive?????? My therapist says there will be an uprising and we'll all take to the streets to save our democracy. Ok, I'm down with that. What's most interesting is that we go to work, we sit on the train looking at our screens, we buy food at the co-op, we get gas, we go swimming, we tend our gardens and walk our dogs AS IF LIFE IS ALL NORMAL when it's so effed up and we're hoping that those founding fathers got it right with three branches of government and the system of checks and balances and so on.

The NYT published the constitution in their Sunday paper. It's huge and takes up four pages. I taped it to the wall so I could remind myself what it says, especially those pesky amendments.

Cuz what's at stake-EVERYTHING. I know there is outrage everywhere we look, and I mean everywhere. My fear is that we will go numb and hide out in our neighborhoods and that is no way to behave if we're gonna weather this absolute fuckery.

In other news, Diane, my ex and I went to the lady spa and soaked and steamed and ate fabulous Korean food in our bathrobes. Well, why not? And we saw normal woman bodies, young and old. Not everyone is 18 and 110 pounds. What a relief.

I'm gonna go get in my scrubs and take off this terrible bra. Gawd, I hate bras so much. There must be a comfortable one out there but I've never encountered it.

BTW, while doing a birth a few days ago in my nice clinic clothes, I hoisted myself up on the bed and apparently caught the hem of my pants on my foot and basically pulled my pants down under my ass. Fortunately I was wearing colorful undies and I quickly (with my gloved hand) pulled up my pants and no one was the wiser. Fashion disaster narrowly averted. Well, those pants are very comfortable with a stretchy waistband so it, um, happened.

The parents and the baby didn't mind at all.

Hello dear ones. I've been buried under an avalanche of babies. I'm profoundly tired. Even after five days away with my family, I came right back to work and had an all nighter birth and I'm at the birth center now with another momma. And clinic. And the usual shenanigans with my staff. We had, as my student deadpanned when I asked her, 65 babies in a month. We didn't have that many but it sure felt like it.

My clinic practice is almost sold. Sara, my sweet partner, is buying it. I've finally seen the purchase and sale agreement and it's 44 pages of legalese. Sheesh.  Non-compete, loan default, etc etc. I know that Sara is the perfect person to take over. She's smart, intuitive, kind and very skilled. So amazing in one so young. I'll still be here as the grande dam of whatever. I'm having trouble imagining myself not going to births anymore but I'll tell ya, after the past month, I could sleep for a year. I get home, water the gardens, feed the animals, walk Felix, eat, fall into bed, get called out at 3AM, do clinic, repeat.

I went swimming today in the lake. Lake Washington is 29 miles long and very wide. It's a wonderful big lake and I love it. Today it was chock full of yachts, roped together. Seattle has, alas, become a city of millionaires. I remember with great fondness the Old Seattle, funky, a bit seedy, unpretentious and slow. Now it's a hip happening place. And I've become an old woman with arthritic knees.

But the babies are still delicious. Every one of them.

Some more babies in the last few weeks. Very hot today in Seattle. And it's Pride weekend here. Just sat in the park watching the humans in rainbow glitter, tutus, tennis shoes, face paint, dyed hair. All magnificent and beautiful. Oh, and platform shoes. Always worry about those, waiting for someone to topple over. I once saw orange and white platforms that were 3 feet tall. The man/woman/person was standing on the street in Austin in front of a bar. I couldn't understand what I was looking at...until I could.

Honorable mention: dogs wearing their Pride swag.

I will spend the day enjoying my queer self, at home with my animals. I might even take a nap. In my youth, I was out there reveling in, well, revelry. Now I'm happy to enjoy my garden and being off call. I'm grateful we homos can have our weekend and some legal protections and the right to marry and care for each other when we're old. Of course there's more. Transgendered folk need protection too. They are humans and deserve the same rights and protections that others enjoy. And can we stop with the bathroom issue already? What a dumb thing to pay attention to. Whatever.

So whoever you are out there and however you identify, I hope you feel loved and appreciated today just as you are. Warts and all.

The humming birds have returned! They are hanging out in the front garden as there are more flowers. I hope they visit the back too because I have a feeder for them with (apparently) yummy sugar water in it.

I am in despair over the last few weeks. I know you know. I went to dance today and broke down. Our poor creatures suffering. Not just the polar bears but all of us. As our clueless 'leader' continues to bring us closer to Armageddon.

I bought a broadside which I brought home today:



manhood meets donny boy

                                                                                  The beauty of me is that I'm rich
If manhood be a hand, boyhood be a discovery
we be see want grab take
but only within arms reach
but yours be vice grip on silver spoon
                                                                                    When someone challenges you,
                                                                                    fight back. Be brutal, be tough
If manhood be a hand, your be fist clenched
white-knuckle death grip around the neck of a dove
yours be standing on street corner of a city block your own
and still be shuffling the deck in a game of shells
                                                                                       Listen, you motherfuckers
Yours be slapping hands away from volume knobs
so you can turn it all the way up
be fingers as earplugs and you "lalalalala"ing all the way home
                                                                                         I don't want to use the word
                                                                                         "screwed' but I screwed him
your manhood stamps your name on treaty
never honored, but always enforced
your manhood be fork in the road
my way or highway litany of demands
                                                                                        I have an attention span
                                                                                   that's as long as it has to be
your manhood be in need of a manual
a hands on course
but none exists in 140 characters
                                                                       A little more moderation would be good       
                                                           ....My life hasn't exactly been one of moderation
                                                                         
manhood be an open palm
be a dove set free
be question marks and quiet tones
be boyhood's big brother applauding in the audience
be nothing to prove
                                                                                                 Everything in life is luck
you orange trickster, brer rabbit in comb-over
your sleight of hand slips of tongue
leave us sloppy mouth agape and used
                                                                       I feel like a great and very brave soldier
you man-handle business
strike blows, cut corners, kill dreams
legend only in your own book
you might be no steel drivin man
tighten the vice on the silver spoon
choke the air out then smile, big
                                                     assure us
                                                                                     Believe me
                                        you are the answer
                                                                                     Believe me
                                                     assure us
                                                                                     Believe me
                                        you are our gift
                                                                                     Believe me
                                                                                     No one better than me

Dearies-

Sitting at the birth center waitin' on a baby. Seems like every week when I'm on call, someone goes into labor. That's ok, I am a midwife after all.

The weather here has decided to get warm and sunny. The poor vegetable garden is pathetic. I planted greens and it was so cold they all bolted because they thought it was fall and they better hurry up and make some babies. So, I'll start again with starts. The peas are invincible however but when I think about last year's garden bursting with everything I planted and this year's sad wee plants..I actually watered today because it got hot enough.

I cleaned out my garage today and while that's not much of an accomplishment in the mess of the world, I feel good about cleaning up my little patch. And besides, my friend Casey keeps reminding me that she would be delighted to live in a tiny house next to my house and the garage would be just perfect for a tiny house re-do. Gawd. That's all I need, another remodel.

I put various useable thangs out in the parking strip and don't you know, they are mostly gone by the time I left for the birth. A box of odds and ends, light fixtures, hinges, nails and screws. Picture frames, a big umbrella. It's the free stuff that people give away. Someone can use it. Better than sending it all to the dump.

In another month, I will no longer be the owner of the clinic. I'll get a whopping check, pay down my debts, invest the rest and life will go on as before. We are easing a new midwife into the practice. She is another naturopathic midwife and a great woman. She has been unfailingly steady and helpful, filling in here and there, whatever is needed. And she's organized, something the rest of us lack. She'll be coming to this birth later on to birth assist, help clean up, whatever we need her to do. She's been seeing babies in the peds clinic which is growing exponentially.

I'm so happy to be leaving the clinic to Sara, my spiritual daughter. It is thriving and healthy and we have such a good time working together. I am hanging on, I really don't want to leave...

But if I'm gonna become a dharma teacher or something like that, I need to devote myself to study and contemplation. I have plenty to draw from, my life as a baby catcher. So many lessons and stories, funny, sad, terrible and wonderful. I want to be of service as along as I still have my marbles.

Good night dear ones. There are the night workers like us, while the rest of the world is asleep, waiting for some to die, some to be born. The endless wheel.

IT'S SUNNY AND WARM

FREAKISH,  I TELL YOU.

I turned the heat off.

Today I went to the garden store to cruise plants. It's a bit pornographic, the way I behave. Or maybe I  have bee tendencies but I'm looking for colors and smells and curvy figures.  There were birds chirping and I thought they were playing some bird chirping audio but no. There by the cash register was a large round stainless feeding trough hung with a warming light and a bunch of baby chicks on bedding inside. They'd just come in the mail (!) from Kansas. The box with holes in it was still on the floor. They were hungry and thirsty, stepping on each other and falling into the water. The gal in the store said she could hear them at the post office ( I bet!). Anyway, I hung over their enclosure and watched. So soft and fluffy and weighing practically nothing. Gladdened my mood.

I bought starts and seeds and headed for my p-patch, the city's answer to those of us who need gardening space. They provide water and tools and a small plot of fertile earth.  I have learned so much from my SE Asian neighbors about how to intensively garden. They grow around and among different plants. Vines grow up corn stalks. Smaller plants grow among larger ones. And they have veggies all year round.

My strawberries were looking healthy and so were the weeds, which I pulled out. I planted spinach and lettuce. I like that spot for squash because it takes so much room to grow. The beds by my house have peas and beets and beans and more lettuce. I'm so glad to be able to walk out and harvest food from my yard.

My yard right now

The back yard just got the walkway and now it's time to fill in with more plants. My friend who has been helping with the heavy lifting says I should feel glad to come home and see my garden. And I do. 

I'm all up in being a student, y'all. I'm studying dharma books and instantly forgetting what I've read. I give my first 'talk' this Sunday and I just might disregard my notes and speak from my heart. Yikes. I could talk for hours about midwifery; history, efficacy, shortcomings, data, etc etc but dharma is...different.  Feels more important to be authentic and of course I can't talk about what I haven't experienced. And that's the truth. 

So wish me well. The topic is racism and American Buddhism. In 15 minutes. No problem. Ha!

Cold but daffodils and cherry blossoms. Had a salad of collard greens from last years garden. My friend Casey is in Uganda with MSF, helping support Somali refugees. Such suffering in this world. The cycle is endlessly repeating.

Danced with my dear fellow dancers this morning. Generation of joy essential in troubled times. Went to a gallery with a buddy yesterday-all artists responding to the Trump regime. My favorite: The Trump sandwich-white bread, baloney, I.C.E. berg lettuce with American cheese and a small pickle.

Got my taxes and fell on the floor. I owe a massive amount. And a miracle happened. I didn't have a panic attack. I didn't lose sleep. I didn't become completely unhinged. I stayed calm. I knew it would be ok, somehow. Because it will be ok. In the grand scheme, it's a minor thang. Soon enough, I won't own the business anymore, my income will drop precipitously and I'll be living on a tight budget and it 's all ok. It really is. The eight worldly winds. Can't avoid 'em. Praise and blame, gain and loss, pleasure and pain, fame and ill-repute.

Be well. Take heart.

We had a wee babe earlier this week and dang it all, I was worrying about her, nothing big, more subtle and I sent them to the hospital this morning and don't you know, the baby has a heart thang which needs surgery later on. So subtle. I mean she looked good and was pink and clear lungs and good tone but there was something...

I believe there is much that is unseen in this world. I'm sure there are tree devas, for example. I could go on but I'll spare you my hippie musings. Anyway, a disembodied somebody was tapping on my shoulder, fussing at me about this baby. So I paid attention. As I often say to my students, "It never hurts to have another opinion. What's the worst that could happen? There's not a thing wrong with the child and they'll just sent her/him home." Better to be too cautious than not cautious enough.

Rain and sun, rain and sun. Back and forth, in the faithful weather of the NW.

Off to my sangha or as MLK would have called it, my "beloved community."

The Grand Canyon is, well, grand. We had sun, rain, hail, snow and thunderstorms. In short, we had everything.

I heard a young lady say, "They all look the same!", referring to the many canyons in the south rim. No, they don't.

Waiting on a baby. The house is quiet without Felix. He's with Randy, his buddy and dog sitter. It's like not having the kids for the weekend.

I'm a reader now. I am reading Taming the Ox: Buddhist Stories and Reflections on Politics, Race, Culture, and Spiritual Practice by Charles Johnson. I'm reading Mindfulness by Joseph Goldstein and Lovingkindness by Sharon Salzberg. I just bought three books of poetry by David Whyte. I have piles of books in every room. I'm in the 'improving my mind and understanding' phase.

Soon enough I leave for a long weekend in LA to sit/study with the Against the Stream folks, a Buddhist group that I've been sitting with. I'm beginning a facilitator training with them that extends for 18 months. I'm trying to be a smart Buddhist. So I read. Four Noble Truths. Eightfold Path. Three Jewels. Four Divine Abodes. etc. etc.

I hope everyone is hanging in in spite of the daily news shenanegans. Some kind of cosmic playbook we are having with goofus in the White House.

in here the windows are too close to the ground
you dare not leave them open
imagine
a person stepping over the sill
unannounced
uninvited

your finger is swollen
just one
you hold your hand over you head
the x-ray was so beautiful

calcium formations carpals and metacarpals

you remember from anatomy class

Caroline's cough is from the mets in her lungs
breast cancer won't stay gone
now it visits her liver
sternum, spine

She's remarkably calm
what did you expect
hysteria
loud cursing
instead she lets her ex-husband drive her home

you remind her
let him love you
let it in
he's doing the best he can

I miss them so much.

 Yes, it's a tree growing through a store in Bagan.

And this one is for Maya, my stylist daughter. Although a beauty saloon would probably ask patrons to leave their 6 shooters at the door.

 Little monks praying before the main meal.

Um, Beth the nun in nun robes with the sweet nuns at the monastery. I managed to lose my grip on robe layers daily.

I blame it all on the POTUS

The other day I was waiting to get to the scone/cookie case while my dear coop bakery person was refilling the shelves. He turned, saw me and asked if I needed to get by him. I was having a floaty bliss day and NOT HURRYING from place to place. I was actually moving slowly and deliberately, paying attention. So I said, "Nah, I'll wait for you. I'm in no hurry." And he replied, "Yeah, it's just cookies."

So I'm using this whenever I'm getting upset about insignificant things-my computer doesn't load fast enough, the freeway is clogged up, I forgot to take out the trash.

It's just cookies.

You're free to incorporate into your lives.

You're welcome.

 Sunrise over the Irriwaddy River and the monks dharma hall at Kyaswa Monastery. Ma Kamala and me just before I disrobed. Ma Kamala radiating loving kindness. A small well tended Buddha in a pagoda near the road leading to Bagan.

Weather Report

The weather is horrible here on Judevine Mountain.
It's dark and cold all winter. Every day, rain and snow

beat on your head, and the sun never shines. Then
it's spring and more rain, and ice and mud too. And

after that, the black flies eat you alive, and then the
deer flies, and then the mosquitoes, and then it's fall

before you even noticed it was summer. Then there
might be a couple of weeks of decent weather and

then it starts to rain and snow again. It's just awful
living here. I don't think you'd like it here at all.

You'd better find your own miserable place to live.

                                                                -David Budbill

Stuff all around the house, partially packed. I'm not bring much because I'll be wearing the same thing for three weeks.

Finished the typhoid meds, ug. Packed antibiotics, malaria meds and xanax (natch) for the 36 hour plane ride with stop overs, gha..... did I ever say I'm claustrophobic? Well I am a smidge. So riding in a jumbo jet with 120 other people AND if I should be stuck in the center aisle, well you get the picture. They do let you watch a bunch of first run movies on a wee screen but that gets old after a while.

Will I be warm enough? Will I be too hot? Will I go crazy sitting and walking for 14 hours a day? Will the dharma teacher be sweet or severe or cranky? Will my fellow retreatants drive me crazy? Will I drive myself crazy?

All will be revealed.

For the benefit of all beings, I go forth.

And bless all the beings who are marching on January 21st in DC and all over the country. I am there in spirit. It's historic, women.

My daughter is going to DC with her bud Traci. Go represent, ladies.

I've taken my first typhoid pill and picked up all my other meds AND I got a cortisone shot in my knee and it's heavenly, so heavenly to walk around with no pain. My angelic doctor (who is 6' 5, fresh-faced, with white teeth and luscious complexion) says I can have a shot every three months. Okey dokey.

If I can be pain free for a while, I'm a happy camper. Hooray for modern medicine.

In other news, my beloved daughter left this morning to drive back to the Bay Area with the most beautiful grandson child, my Milo. He's 6 feet tall and so sweet. He hugs me and tells me he loves me. Nothing better.

This afternoon is devoted to feeding homeless kids with my peeps. There may be a lotta folks showing up to cook and serve. At this time of year, people want to help out, you know. July is a little harder...

I leave pretty soon. Yikes.

I say love everyone harder and better. And have a blessed New Year. Felix says Woof.

Heavenly noise

My Dad taught us all to sing together but we didn't sound like this.

I'm reading How to Survive a Plague

Alison,

they tore down your house
the section 8
you remember
the grungy wall-to-wall
peeling blue paint
they're making way
new housing for the new rich invading our town

I'm getting confused
you lived there with Sheila
before you went to the Bay area
came back with AIDS

you shared needles
you said
you came back depressed
we took turns
taking you in
you cried all the time
you cried all week
we had no idea what to do for you
with you

but  I remember your legs, your messed up legs
sometimes you were in a chair
sometimes you walked with canes
didn't stop you from tubing with the kids
the Rainier trip when we did a 360 coming off the mountain
Eden crying in the back seat
clatter of skiis and snowshoes
me yelling, "we're fine, we're fine!!"

after you moved uptown
you got a tarantula
birds
cats who ran after toys you tied to a fishing rod

you got sick
you got very sick
you spent more and more time in the hospital
you just missed out on the whole 'living with AIDS' thing
the drugs you took caused you to suffer
we were all helpless

your great heart wouldn't let you die
for a long time
you gave away your dog
three legged Tripod
he was getting old
you didn't have the energy anymore

I missed your funeral by a day
I went to the hall
no lights on
empty

so I went to the lake with my photos of you
my pocket of stories
about your generosity
your way with children
your anger
your sadness
I lit the pictures with my lighter
let them settle on the water

and as you signed your letters and cards I said-

In love and rage,

Beth

I've downloaded my visa and talked with the travel nurse about meds and shots. They warn you not to get into a car accident and wear a helmet if you're on a bike. I think I'll be walking up and down stairs between the kitchen and the temple, which is at the top of a hill (?) small mountain (?). I have to order white blouses, a light blanket (nights are chilly), bug repellant, a shawl impregnated with fierce bug spray. So far I've got powdered tooth stuff, a foldy toothbrush, and a bar of soap that doubles as shampoo. In lieu of cutting my hair, I'm gonna wear it up, pin it up and forget about it. Fourteen hours of practice, holy moley. It is intimidating. And no food after twelve noon. Hoo boy..

I'm avoiding the news. I know it's bad. It doesn't help to know. At least Obama's administration stopped the pipeline at Standing Rock.

And then there's this:

And this:

Today, like every other day, 
we wake up empty
and frightened. 
Don’t open the door to the study and begin reading. 
Take down a lute.

Let the beauty we love be what we do.

There are hundreds of ways to kneel and
kiss the ground.

~ Rumi

Dearest hearts. May we all be well. May we be free from suffering.