Birthday 78

           

   What an excellent surprise! Up and at’em by 6:15, sat to blog, Red started barking at a car in the driveway. Who so early?  My daughter!  She drove the two hour trip to wish me Happy Birthday and deliver the fabulous gifts of her own handicraft. The two caps are crocheted with very fine quality yarns and just perfect stitches. She told us crochet cannot be made on machines, like knitting, so is always handwork.  She IS a professional fiber artist, not simply a good amateur.  We had a pleasant and jovial three hour visit, often attending to the play between her kitty and my dog.  Just before she left, she rendered an unforgettable and funny version of Happy Birthday dear mommy.  All so wonderful.  Many thanks to her and to our better angels.

    Now to work, feeling resistant, I admit.

    First I pray:  Lord, guide all the people in the world’s governments—so many with good intentions and wrong headed methods, so many downright Hasnamuss, and each one us governed thinks we know which is which.  But I think only you know, Lord, and I guess I’m just asking for an end of all the hurtful confusion.  And again I pray particularly for the peace and prosperity of my tribe of loved ones, even it virtue signalers revile me for it.  And I pray for forgiveness for your designations of my intolerance, for sins I don’t recognize. Most of all thank you, Jesus, for the memories and activities and impressions of these days. 

   Now sense and breathe.    

   The Five prophets ( JC included) as best I remembered

    Carry it forth in this day; work in all and everything.

   

Annoyance…really?

 

  Wake up, paddle through “first tasks,”and burst forth a frowning moment of nasty annoyance at “new discipline”, ie, hurry to blog first.  How silly!  Goes to show you can’t always choose emotions: was  thinking about/intending regal calmness, maybe sacred connection, and happy Thanksgiving.  Well, l’m past that. I’m reminded of the many times RB says, “let’s take a moment to collect ourselves.” So I do.  Then I undo and insert the photo from last Thanksgiving, feeling my nostalgia and sadness at this year’s turn of events.  Sisters could not come here after many years.  And I’m struggling with this tech platform, which is not so mechanical that I can ignore it. Must conclude this is not sitting or meditating.  God is not the first thing to enter my first hour. Hmmm. Try again, but notice that urge to rush: “I’ve got five minutes for you, Lord. Can you make an appearance now?”

   Stop writing.

   Sense and breathe. 

   Bennett sixteen point exercise.

   Lord have mercy, God have mercy. 

        Not uninterrupted. 

This is why it’s called Work.  

Sincere, you’ve got to be sincere

   

   Who’s the character who sang in that musical that line?  I can see the dear student in the SPHS version as well as the actor in movie with Dick Van Dyke. But time or something has erased all the names from my memory, at least for the moment.  Of course they’ll come back to me later in the day. Or I’ll look them up on the never ending memory of WWW.

       Never mind.  Sincerity is my topic this minute, mulling how difficult or uncomfortable it often feels to be sincere with myself.  Or God.  There’s a waxy sensation of  “wish to be good, maybe pure” that lays on my chest, sternum to heart: fake sincerity.  Dear God:  I will reach out anyway. But aren’t  I a little bit old for “ fake it till you make it”? 

   And will listen to Lee most every morning, since he strikes me as uber sincere.  

   And this I do mean:  Dear God, Beloved Jesus, walk with me today all day, every moment stay in my consciousness.  Please bless my tribe, again, too numerous to name here, but I picture them day in, day out. Bless them with what they need 

 And thank you for this brilliant peaceful life.

  And I must have needed Conrad Birdie and “Bye, Bye Birdie” today, ta very much.

Day two

   Can’t  call it a discipline yet….

  Odd to try to sit and empty my mind then write words/thots at the same time. Silly actually. No dream recall this morning.  Red and I walked fifteen minutes, no words then except with our neighbor Johanna who loves him. There’s emotion raised.  And I label the experience walking meditation. Impressions of wondrously painless knees, thanks Lisa D, flapping blue floral pajama legs, constant checking if this is cold temperature; am I chilly? No 

 Now as Red naps on desktop, I turn thought to Jesus, God.  Intentional words: Lord walk with me every moment today. I do love you, revere you, thank you for this melange of a life. Take care of, bless, protect my tribe, whom I won’t name here but image through out the day. Save our world and nation even if that makes me illiberal to ask. Well, you have a chosen people, too.  (Am I trying to virtue signal even while I address divinity, or am I  totally confused and faith bolixed?  Maybe bumping up against my Buffers?)

   I now consider Lee’s Gabrielle book.  Lightning might strike that man someday, at least from GIG camp. Remarkable engaging parody.  Why DOES it engage me?  Certainly I do want to learn what my Wise Man teaches.  And he always entertains

Haven’t dropped off Earth yet

 But I haven’t had much to say publicly for the last Decade or so, obviously. Prompted this morning by post in Lee Van Lear’s Substack, Morning Five. It’s a reminder of the importance of morning sitting/Practice, especially the significance of consistency for invoking purpose, among other effects. I hate reminders like this generally, as they swing my compass arrow of constant low humming guilt towards suspicions or admissions of insincerity, laziness, unworthiness, doubt of truth and relationship to the Divine. Well, that’s a big  statement.  

  My cure is do as Lee does:  Log it every morning for five minutes or so, and this site will do

    My dream this morning was the blending of three witches, which was a struggle:  Who would be mother, who would be father, who would be the newborn leader?  Of course it’s an image of Triamazakamno— Active,  passive, neutralizing forces.  

      Before arising from the bed I had a strong sense of I Am, which always smacks of sacrilege to me. But I accepted it.  Along with the healings invoked by Lisa D. And reminded awareness that the minor pains of old age can aid body sensing.

     More tomorrow?

For Gwynne: Response to her Virgo Full Moon Request

Sag Sun, Gem Moon,  Virgo Asc

Saw a slow soaring plump raptor today, 

definitely not sleek. Owl?

No neck, pale belly, dark wings;

like a cross circling the spring blue sky laced

by thin strips of white cloud, 

edged by bare branches and pineneedle tufts. 

Watched a small nuthatch run

jerky down a pine trunk. 

Listened to a raucous cacophony of

early March birds. My, my!

Pay attention to nature.  

Internalize those outward signs.

Elude their science for now, and

 memorize their sense without labels.

                 March 1, 2018  ©

             

   

                  

Maine Again

homecoming...  art pix or bad lighting, you think?  They speak volumes to me...

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