Strength

Well … here’s a last deep breath before diving into my last two weeks of classes.  I can’t hardly believe that this first semester has flown by so quickly.  I didn’t get as much schoolwork done over the break as I had intended … and I’m not the only one.  It didn’t quite feel like hitting a wall, a feeling I’m familiar with when I push too hard, too much – it was just a sense of “there’s no urgency here … you’ve got it all under control”.  And, it was true – the assignments that are due over the next weeks are all under control – in process – and didn’t need my immediate attention.

It was nice to have the days flow at my own pace and my own choice – to work and play with what I felt interested in focusing on in the moment. I read some silly novels, I picked up my knitting again and wove colors and textures in my hands as the music flowing through the room wove colors and textures in my mind.  I wrote for pleasure, played with images and poetry, walked in the warm sunshine, and for the most part – I just enjoyed the simple pleasures of my life.

Some days I forget the simple pleasures – I become enchanted with the ’stuff’ I can’t/don’t have.  Catalogs come in the mail – and rather than tossing them away – I glance through them and feel the desire rise for warm shoes, for pretty sweaters, for a lovely dress.  That’s when I look around this simple, sweet apartment – when I look over my simple life – and say to myself .. is this all you’ve accomplished?

Those are the times I turn my attention away from all the blessings I’ve written about in the past days – and instead all I can see are the holes .. the gaps .. the lack.  I look out the window and instead of seeing the way the light plays with the clouds over the Highlands creating the ghosts of rainbows … I see the clusters of wires strung across the alleys and streets, the crumbling brickwork, the boarded windows and unkempt yards.

They’re both there.  I see them both all the time.  In Butte, in the world, in myself.  The beauty and the beast.

In the Strength card of the tarot, the beauty has created a relationship with the beast – she knows what he is .. she accepts and loves him.  Because of that – he accepts and loves her as well.  They combine their strengths to overcome their weaknesses.

That’s how it is.  The inner beauty and beast .. the relationships with others .. with the city, the land around us.  The beauty and the beast are always there – the fullness and the lack.  The days when I forget to see the light on the mountains are just as valuable to me as the days when I do.  I don’t mind seeing the lack – it allows me the opportunity to address it.  No .. I don’t need warm shoes or swirly dresses – but there is an essence to my needs.  The essence doesn’t cost me a penny – it just needs to be recognized and met with acceptance and love.  I can do that.

I’ll Be Your Water

I’m listening to my favorite new musician – Keb’ Mo’ – bluesy folk .. folksy blues .. anyway you want to label him – he’s good, smooth, an excellent artist.  I first heard his cd “Suitcase” and he sings “if you ever need someone to talk to … if you ever need a helping hand … i’ll be your ship out on the ocean .. i’ll be your water in the desert sand”.  Ah .. that’s what a friend is, in my book.

I’ve found friends in the most unexpected times and places … and those who I believed .. or hoped .. would be friends have drifted away on ocean tides that are often mysterious to me.

Yesterday’s Thanksgiving dinner was a beauitful experience of friendship.  This is a group of women and men who’ve known each other for 25 or more years .. and they have welcomed me into their community with great kindness.  We cooked, laughed, shared stories, soaked in the afternoon sunshine and watched the dogs play, tussle, and leap the fence to chase other dogs down the street.  The wine flowed as easily as the conversations and smiles.

When we sat down to enjoy pumpkin curry soup, we read poetry and prayers.  After piling our plates high with turkey, stuffing, potatos, green beans, gingered cranberries, and gravy – we went around the table to talk about the things we’re thankful for in our lives… the young woman in her early 20s talked about the privilege of getting a college education and traveling around the world in the meantime, we appreciated and toasted mothers and children, dogs and the willingness to enjoy life and play as hard as we work, we appreciated friendships, marriages, families, and lovers, the beauty and privilege of living in Montana, the support of friends in times of financial hardship, and the freedom to gather around tables to feast.

We laughed at ourselves and our little (or big) quirks – and we retired early with full bellies and full hearts.

Today, I realized that I’ve received this same welcome at the bookstore.  This is a family business, and in just a few short months, I’ve been welcomed into the easy ways of this family – with their quriks, their fondness for one another, their generosity.

It’s late, the lights of the city sparkle below me.  The brilliant lights against the the night sky distract the eyes from the darkness the surrounds us.  The shabbos candles are flickering out after carrying my prayers of blessing.  I pray for peace and wholeness for myself, for my loved ones, and then – as the Buddha suggests – for all beings.

The wonder of my life is a stark contrast to the suffering that is hidden by the beauty of the sparking lights below – that is being played out across this city, this continent – across the oceans.  I am saddened by reading of killings in Mumbai over the past days – and my sorrow is increased to see that one of the targets were the Jews in that city.  I know that my own suffering will never decrease the suffering of another – and that all I can do is shine out my own light as best I can.  Meanwhile, I will continue to pray for the enLightenment of all beings, that we may find peace and wholeness. I will continue to be your water in the desert sand – all you need to do is reach out.

Thanksgiving

It’s late morning and I sit with the sun streaming in through all the windows.  It’s so warm in here that I’ve turned down the heat even though its only 23 degrees outside … much warmer than the 6 that I woke to hours earlier.  I’m remembering last year when it was so cold and windy that it was the first and only time that I didn’t leave my cabin in Dillon for the entire day.

Today, my life is so different.  I just put my famous apple cake in the oven, washed up the bowls, measuring cups and spoons, wiped down the counter.  When the cake is done, I’ll head over to the trail for a walk, and then head up to Walkerville to join friends for our Thanksgiving dinner.  It takes the pressure off when there are 10 or 12 gathering together – everyone can focus on one dish.  I do miss cooking the whole shebang myself – it’s something I can look forward to in the next few years, along with having a home larger enough to invite my friends and loved ones.

I wonder sometimes what our culture, our world, would be like if the primary value that was instilled was that of gratitude. I wonder how we each would view the world, our experiences, our friends, and strangers, if we approached everything with a sense of deep thankfulness.

It would certainly set us up to view it all with a sense of hopefulness, a sense that there is something of value in every situation. No matter how bleak it may seem at the outset. Perhaps it would even shift our sense of bleakness toward that of potential opportunity? We would certainly engage in our relationships … whether the momentary ones with passers by or the deep and long-lasting ones … with a sense of what we each have to offer, we would focus on the strengths rather than the weaknesses.

Gratitude meanders down the etymological path from the word Grace – which is one of my favorite words ever. And one of the many meanings of grace is to ’sing the praises of’. Allow me to sing some praises here on this Thanksgiving …

I am so grateful for the people in my life – friends, lovers, family, and even the occasional enemies – you all teach me so much about myself, about the world, and about you.  You teach me to love more deeply and more freely – to allow you to be who and what you are in the moment without needing you to be some fantasy creature that I create only in my mind. You teach me to let you come and go and return freely and easily.

I am deeply grateful for the privilege of returning to school – for expanding my knowledge and skills, for glimpses of possible futures for myself .. and others.  I’m grateful for the opportunity to stretch myself in ways that I might never have otherwise, and for chance to see that I’m already pretty damn good at this thinking and writing thing.

There isn’t a day that that goes by that I don’t take time to appreciate my life here in the high desert mountains of Butte.  There isn’t a day that goes by that I’m not stopped, breathless, by the sights and experiences that move through my life.

My life isn’t perfect .. there are things that I still want … there are experiences that I anticipate in my not too distant future … and today, I am so thankful for it all.

Not the End of the World

I’ve noticed, recently, how illness and mood are strongly tied together for me.  When I feel unwell physically, my spirits begin to droop.  I think that part of it is tied to the fear that I’m not really free of the illness that plagued me for so many years – that the health that I’ve enjoyed here in Montana is just a brief interlude.

Last night I felt a little icky, and this morning, I woke up feeling sad.  It took a while for me to notice also that my throat hurt, my lungs hurt a bit, and I was a little feverish.  A little while means – I didn’t put it all together until later in the afternoon.  By then, I was also kicking myself for feeling sad, compounding the issue, no doubt.

I figured it out while I was out walking the trail.  It was cooler today, the brilliant sun was hidden by light clouds all day – but I know that its important to get my walk in every day that I am able to.  Even when I don’t feel all that well.  And .. the fact that I can go for an hour walk even when I don’t feel well should assuage the fears that I’m not truly healthy.

I’ve been thinking about illness and wellness the past few day since I saw the news about breast cancer spontaneously regressing.  And I’m remembering the large, clear spots on the mammogram I had last February … and my decision to take some steps with foods, herbs, and meditation to address the issue .. and then the later testing that showed the spots had gone away.  Both sets were looked at by one of the top radiologists in the state, he’s got a solid reputation as a diagnostician.  He was personally involved in both sets of tests and the xrays are quite clear.  So … why did the spots go away?

Of course, the true answer is “I dunno”.  Science doesn’t like that answer … and neither do the rest of us.  We want it quantified and clarified and … repeatable.  And that would be possible if we were machines.  We’re not.  Our bodies – machine-like as they may seem to be – are intricately tied to our minds and our emotional states – and those systems are not quantifiable .. not now .. and not ever.

The mammogram was part of constellation of events late last winter that motivated me to make some (more) radical decisions about my life.  Moving into the west wasn’t enough … I needed to change not just location – but much, much more.  I needed to change my mind … I needed to open my heart.  (The spots on the mammogram were right over the heart … it was something to think about.)

This evening I’m feeling like taking it easy.  There was an important town meeting I’d wanted to attend – but sitting in an overheated room with a bunch of strangers listening to people make annoying speeches didn’t seem like the thing to do when I was feeling icky.  I wanted to go simply to witness the decision being made.

I wasn’t necessary to the process.  And so, I choose to follow the inclination to cook up a pot of lentils, rice, carrots, sweet potatoes, and broccoli.  To wrap up in a warm robe and play with my final project for my photography class.  To listen to music and sing in a slightly nasal voice becuase my nose is stuffy with a cold.  Just a cold.  Not the end of the world – just an opportunity to be home and warm and comfortable.

Confession

The people here are so … civil.  For the most part, polite, kind, and just nice to be around.  I can be assured of at least a smiling “hello” from every person I pass when I’m out walking – if not a full-blown conversation .. and the same goes for clerks in the grocery store or at the gas station.  They may not always be sincere, though I think they are for the most part, but they are always … nice.

I found myself horrified the other day realizing that I missed a little of that New York edge to people – the snappy comebacks, the sarcastic roll of the eyes, the hyper-honesty that cuts through the b.s.  I missed trading cutting jabs knowing that its all in good humor.  People here take it all so personally.

I’m learning to be more civil – to be more thoughtful of others who don’t have that edge … those who never experienced it except on tv (and surely those aren’t real people!).

So, that’s my confession on this bright, chilly morning (the temperature is already up to a balmy 21).  I never thought I’d say it … or feel it … but sometimes, I miss that New York State of Mind.

Meandering

Another Sunday afternoon – another long walk in the high mountain sunshine.  I stolled, meandered, sauntered along – so slowly I sometimes lost my balance a bit – but it felt so good to just soak in the light, the warmth, the space, the colors, the time.

Yesterday I took my walk after work – it was already dark by the time I pulled into the parking lot at the trailhead.  Rather than heading downtrail right away – I went up the hill to the campus itself.  There is something that I enjoy about wandering around deserted places – and the campus has been left behind for the week by the students who’ve returned to their families for the Thanksgiving break.

When I used to walk at Jug End in Egremont – I loved looking into and sometimes warndering through the old, abandoned buildings, walking through overgrown and untended gardens and orchards.  The hints of people who are long (or recently) gone is fascinating to me.

Some days, like today, I spend a good part of my walk composing poetry or other pieces in my mind – I play with words until they fall into pleasing patterns.  I find myself interested in everything – like a child might be.  My attention is caught by the grasses in a slight breeze, a small flock of sparrows winging rapidly across the sky – or a raven soaring slowly in circles.  I was thinking that other than the fox and the birds, I don’t ever see other wildlife on the trail – a few minutes later I saw a deer just north of the trail, and then, on my way back up, another leaped across the trail and trotted purposefully down into the south.

Well .. time is moving along and I’m getting hungry.  I’m thinking of sauteeing up some onions, zucchini and tomatoes to pour over a little pasta.  Yum.

Housekeeping

Last night I was on the phone with Connee when I suddenly realized that I was quite cold – I couldn’t figure it out – until I realized that it had already dropped down to 15 degrees outside.  Well .. duh.  It’s been so warm, for the most part, that I’ve been spoiled and haven’t taken the time for some basic winter housekeeping.

So .. I pulled out the box of plastic covering for the windows and began to measure, tape, cut, and finally place the plastic over each of the windows around the apartment.  The two kitchen windows were first – and I could actually feel the difference when I was done.  Next the two small windows in the north and south – and then .. the window in the bathroom.  Even though it looks into the storage room, and not outside, it’s still pretty cold in that unheated room and this morning, I noticed a big difference in how much less chilled the bathroom felt to me.

I was resisting putting up the plastic over the windows looking out over the East Ridge – its a significant part of my writing experience to get up and wander around the apartment and then rest my arms on the sill and gaze out the window – day and night it always brings me back to some feeling of balance.  But this evening, after dinner and laundry, I walked over and felt the breeze moving through those windows and realized that if I want to keep my heating bill in the reasonable category – they’d have to get covered too.

Last Saturday I went over the to mall to get some free energy saving supplies from the local utility company – the plastic window coverings, light bulbs, and new heads for the shower and sinks.  So .. to complete my housekeeping – I pulled off the old heads and put on the new ones and now … I’m good to go.

The house feels warmer and cozier – the dryer is humming in the background … Tom Petty is having his last dance with Mary Jane … oh my my .. and now that I feel self-righteous in my environmental measures and productive day … I’m going to curl up on the couch and read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.

Dream Deep

I’m sitting at my desk, working on creating some relational databases for the arts foundation and missing my friend Rochelle – her passion for creating clean databases and her biting, wry humor.

I’ve been listening to Pandora radio and enjoying their selections for me this evening … Bruce Springsteen, Ryan Adams, Dire Straits, the Grateful Dead, Eric Clapton, JJ Cale, Tom Rush, Chris Isaak, John Gorka, Richard Thompson, John Hiatt, Bruce Cockburn, Bob Dylan and, of course, Greg Brown talking about his Gibson JF45 and Eugene reminding me that ’sometimes you have to go look for your life  … and … sometimes you gotta go look for nothing”.

The apartment is dimly lit and suddenly my attention is caught by the winds and I realize that the bank of clouds that were filled with snow and headed our way has finally hit.  The sparkling lights of the city are hidden behind the veils of snow coming down hard and fast – in just a few minutes there is a covering of snow on roads, truck, and rooftops and the wind whistles through the wires and trees.

I’m happy to be warm and settled in this evening – earlier my writing group gathered here and we wrote and shared our words .. our stories … some laughter and some frustration with the experiences of the day.  I am thankful for this loose knit group of women who encourage and appreciate my words.

My last two papers due before the holiday break were handed in today – the deadline for a project I’m working on was moved up a week – I found that some software I dreamed about last night is actually available – and I’ve been playing with writing some new poetry for my photography class.   The pressure that has been building over the past few weeks has dissipated greatly and I find myself smiling more and more throughout the day.

“Sometimes you have to dream deep to find your real life at all” …. says Greg … and I believe him.

Completion

It was a good day – full of completing projects, assignments, presentations.  At school, we’re getting all our work in before the Thanksgiving break – and I, for one, am giving thanks for this break.  Not that I have that much less to do – classes themselves don’t take up that much of my time – but I’m looking forward to a less syncopated set of days.

Our phone-a-thon fundraiser for the arts foundation is finished – we received around $2,000 in pledges and are hoping for more to trickle in to get us up and running with the new Venus.  I am really excited about the cafe re-opening.  Of course, I miss my friends – the ebb and flow of the community throughout the day and the week – but just as much – I’m looking forward to the new baked goods that Patty and Dan have been creating during this little hiatus.  I’m so delighted that I live just a block away from MoFAB so that I can walk over during the day to try out the cardamom coffee cake .. the scones and muffins .. the povatitza .. the cinnamon rolls .. oh – its all so good!  Butte doesn’t really have a bakery – and this could really take off.  They promised to start working on some savories as well. Mmm mmm mmm.

I had three presentations today … and all of them went well.  I enjoy seeing my work, my ideas, my style of communication being received well .. being appreciated by others.  So different from my work experiences.  I’ll admit, part of me wants to remain a student for as long as I can.  There is so much to learn, so much to explore, so many connections to make.  And, again, its nice to be appreciated.

There has also been a sense of completion in some aspects of my personal life with some friends and lovers.  I’m not talking about endings, necessarily, but an understanding of one phase of the relationship being over and the opportunity for a new kind of relationship to begin.  Birth, for example, is a completion of the pregnancy and the beginning of parenthood (no, I’m not pregnant for goodness sakes! jeez, it’s just a metaphor…).

To be complete is not so different than the feeling of being replete – full, whole, lacking nothing.  This evening, as my day winds down, as I put these words on the screen for you to consider, I feel complete.  Not finished – for sure.  There is much that I anticipate in the days and months to come – and for now – it’s good.

Here’s an image from my photo presentation today … I like it…

New Views

I sit here this morning at my desk, steam from the coffee rising in patterns that are almost recognizable.  I’ll be leaving in a few minutes for another full day – but for the moment, I am relaxing a moment into peace.

After my long walk Sunday, I came home and tugged, yanked, and carried the furniture in the apartment into a new configuration.  When there is too much to do – always consider interior decorating as an option for denial.  This is now a lovely little space for winter – the desk is next to the heat, the couch is also nestled in closer.  I’m further away from the windows that carry the voices of the barking dogs and .. best of all … my desk is set right in front of the south facing picture window.

My daytime view falls first onto rooftops, wires, and then down into ‘the flats’ of Butte, and finally up into the Highlands with a bit of the East Ridge thrown in for even more happiness.  The expanse of sky and hurrying clouds dominates it all.

At night, I see the twinkling lights of Butte below me and an occasional star or brightly shining planet.

A new view, a new perspective is always helpful.  All I did was move a desk, chair, couch, and humongous plant.  But – it was enough for everything to feel new.