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.