You haven’t heard from me for a while. Sorry about that. Hope you’re okay in your corner of the world.
Truth is, my winter was long. Life closed in; was often dark and unpredictable. Our fourteen-year-old son nearly died of complicated pneumonia. I had shoulder surgery. My parents, half a continent away, needed my help as they transitioned into an assisted living community. My co-editor and I were sprinting to finish Poetry of Presence, the anthology of mindfulness poems that Grayson Books will publish this summer. I was putting the final touches on my historical novel. Mr. Trump’s election knocked me to my knees, and ever since I’ve been casting about for new ways to resist what he represents. Oh, and our family adopted a young cat, who introduced her own wonderfully crazy energy and (often costly) ideas about what it means to live at our house (oh, the repair and replacement bills!)….
This isn’t an exhaustive list, but you get the picture. I largely withdrew from public life, from simple exhaustion.
Now it’s late spring. I’m finally finding some footing. I’ve even started wandering out of my cave, on occasion. The long hibernation is over.
Thanks for bearing with me. Hope you’re ready for whatever comes next.
Welcome Back! I have wondered about you. Glad you are venturing out. Knowing you are thinking, writing, participating makes the world seem a bit saner.
You’re very kind, Teri. Thank you. I haven’t stopped any of my work, just needed to be “quieter” for a while. I hope you’re well.
Dear Phyllis, Very glad to hear from you. A barn cat has moved into my tool shed and blessed us with 3 grey kittens. Uh. OK Now what? Little events nudge one’s habits just a bit to make room for the new.
But big events can up and dump us on the floor. The Trump election and a serious pulmonary embolism have offered me the push and perspective I needed to review why I’m here and answer the “now what” question for myself. Was it Teddy Roosevelt who said that a crisis is too good an opportunity to waste?
This came into my inbox today which seemed apropos, it is on the Spirituality of Change by Richard Rohr. (Even if one is not comfortable with the religious language, it is worth a try to look underneath)
“Metanoia…is unfortunately translated with the moralistic word repent. Metanoia literally means change or even more precisely “Change your mind!” … We do not think ourselves into a new way of living, but we live ourselves into a new way of thinking.” However, much of religion doesn’t demand changes to our lifestyle or habits. The best way to avoid actually changing is to go into one’s head and endlessly argue about what “changing” means. Human minds love to argue, oppose, critique, judge, evaluate, and adjust—it gives our little minds a job. “The best criticism of the bad is the practice of the better. Oppositional energy only creates more of the same.” This alternative orthodoxy quietly but firmly pays attention to different things—like simplicity, humility, non-violence, contemplation, solitude and silence, earth care, nature and other creatures, and the “least of the brothers and sisters.” These are our true teachers.” Yeah.
“Yeah,” indeed, Susan. First, though, are you completely recovered? Sounds like you have had quite the “opportunity for review.” I know you will take full advantage! But I also hope for your full return to health….Funny you should bring up Richard Rohr. Not long ago I was fortunate to have an exchange with him, as he was kind enough to endorse Poetry of Presence. He does good work. I appreciate his teachings. Oh, how to train “our little minds” to give up the “job” of endless opposition! How to train our spirits to dwell in attention, which brings us into caring relationship with All That Is! Let’s keep working at it, shall we?
Hi Phyllis,
I’m glad you made it through and you’re back. Please ask for a B12 test, in case you are low in Vitamin B12.
Warmly, Sue
On Sun, May 28, 2017 at 4:21 PM, Phyllis Cole-Dai wrote:
> phyllis cole-dai posted: ” You haven’t heard from me for a while. Sorry > about that. Hope you’re okay in your corner of the world. Truth is, my > winter was long. Life closed in; was often dark and unpredictable. Our > fourteen-year-old son nearly died of complicated pneumonia. I had” >
You’re a dear. Thank you for the suggestion. Be well!
I really feel like my recent challenges are nothing compared to yours, now that I’ve read your blog! Thank you for writing. I have wondered where your energy was directed these days.
My apples, your oranges. 🙂 All of us have our own challenges to meet, and they are what they are. I wish you well with yours!