Old Age Day by Day January 12, 2012

Our son-in-law's father died Wednesday.  He had battled lung cancer on and off for years.  He was a very sweet, funny, dear man.  He lived into his eighties and was blessed with four sons, three grandchildren, and a steady strong life in the same town, in the same house for most of his life.  Until a few years ago, all of his sons lived nearby and his two grandsons.  He was a stalwart churchgoer and and a devoted husband and father.  An ordinary life, you might say, but extraordinary in his kindness and steadfast devotion.  I ache for how much his wife will miss him, and his family.  I find myself very saddened indeed.  I also feel for our granddaughter's loss of a grandpa.  He was a gem.  He was delighted with her.  She's so young, and our youngest lost her grandparents when she was 3 as well, and it left a big hole.  So I think of this precious little girl who has lost one of her biggest fans.

I hope the family is comforted by the dignity with which he left them.  When the doctors found a return, he decided not to do any more chemo or radiation.  He died at home in his bed.  Bless him.  Bless all ordinary people showing heroic courage and steadfast love in a turbulent world.

Old Age Day by Day January 11, 2012

I resigned from my chorus yesterday.  I just knew it was time; that the fun I had was waning, and I wanted to move on.  I won't say I had nothing more to learn, because that would not be true, but the tipping point had been reached and passed last fall.  I'll always sing, but maybe not with a group.  New opportunities often open up when you let go and relax.  That is what I'm going to do.  I have a lot of other plans for this spring, and having a responsibility to the chorus does make traveling difficult.  Anyway, by the time I'd talked to my teacher yesterday, I was sanguine and no ambivalence arose.  So I'll see what the future brings musically.  And as I said to my teacher, I have all these songs I know and love in my bag of tricks now.

I'm itching to write poetry, and I'm going to try for one draft a day.  I began as a poet, then my best friend killed herself, and I felt compelled to write her story.  I'm a strong prose writer, but my first love was poetry, from the time I was a kid, and I'd like to go back to it now.

My husband and I saw the movie "War Horse" yesterday.  I sobbed so much I had to force myself to stay in the chair to watch.  It brings tears to my eyes now to think of it.  It was a very disturbing film, on the order of "Gallipoli" or "Saving Private Ryan".  Speilberg is good at forcing us to face ugly facts.  Though I admire many of his films, I never want to see "Schndler's List", "Munich" or many other worthy films.  Once is enough to sear it in my brain.  The cinematography was gorgeous, but I can't even tell if the movie was good or awful.  I just know it was upsetting.  But I have such a connection to horses, I may be too vulnerable to assess this film.  I found watching it almost unbearable.

Luckily, I'm having lunch with a friend today, so I can lighten up.  And no horse talk.

Old Age Day by Day January 10, 2012

My retreat was delightful and inspiring.  I returned refreshed and ready to tackle some difficult issues and keep my head while tussling.  It's always good to be in a room full of lovingkindness and intentions of being compassionate to all beings.  There is power in that gesture.  My "swim buddy", to steered me to this teacher, was with me and we discussed dharma talks in the evenings, and my gratitude to her is immense.  And today is her birthday.  I've promised to give her Haruku Mirakami's "1Q84", because she was describing looking at the moon last Wednesday night and how strange and amazing it was, and it was as if she was reading a passsage from Murakami's book.  More selfishly, I can't wait to discuss it with her after she's read it.

I talked to my daughter and granddaughter last night, and my son in London during the day and my younger son yesterday evening.  I hold them in my hearts and checking in is so easeful to me.  I am truly blessed with four wonderful adult children, a daughter-in-law and son-in-law whom I love, and two delightful granddaughters.  Retreats remind me of all my blessings, and the preciousness of life.  The trick is to keep that knowledge accessible daily, in each and every moment.  It's a challenge, but the benefits are magical.

Old Age Day by Day January 6, 2012

So far I'm having a bit of bad luck in the new year.  Today I put on the silver beads my husband bought me for Christmas and the clasp broke, after the store insisting that it was sturdy and secure.  I'd planned on wearing them for my retreat, to give me strength (they are Native American).  Last night I had a terrible time at chorus, and felt angry, jealous and frustrated at my parts, resinging songs I'm kind of tired of and not getting any mini solos, as have most of the others.  I lost all my joy and confidence, and ended up leaving ten minutes early in tears.  I was a big baby, but underneath, I do have doubts about what I am doing in this chorus.  Maybe it's just that I'm ready for something new, and boy, do I hate letting go of anything.

It's at least very fitting that I am going on retreat, where I hope to clear my mind, cling less to attraction and aversion, and feel fresher, newer, in this new year.  Right now I feel like the weather - sunny but with bad air quality.

Old Age Day by Day January 5, 2012

I saw my therapist today and feel more centered.  Tomorrow I leave for a weekend retreat, and will get my head screwed on even straighter, I hope.  I look forward to the silence, the sitting, the dharma talks and the chance to quiet what has been a busy, overactive mind this holiday season.  Many things needed doing, and I was juggling balls like a circus performer, but it's time to let them drop and roll where they may.  I am not really in control or responsible for the fate of the world.  I need to address my own personal messiness and trust in others to attend to theirs.  The holidays are crazy making, wonderful, and filled with hidden triggers and traps.  Now it is January, and the days are getting longer and spring is about to leap, drought or no, and the world continues.  Whether I do or not is of no consequence, because I'm part of the changing, and cannot be lost.  I take comfort in that fact.

Old Age Day by Day January 4, 2012

My foster granddaughter and I went to a movie yesterday afternoon.  She's so happy these days it's contagious.  We really have fun together.  She has graduated to "people" movies, instead of just animated ones.  She likes "Nim's Island", "Nanny McFee", "Ever After", "Ramona and Beesus", and "Enchanted".  We saw "We Bought a Zoo", and she said it was the best movie ever.  There was a little girl in it her age, and she seemed fascinated by the animals and the idea of living at a zoo.  We rushed home afterwards and her mom was waiting.  It was the one time she was early picking her up.  Oh, dear.

Today I'm having tea with a friend, then maybe my husband and I will do a few errands.  His cold is finally getting better and he can go periods without coughing.  He's sleeping better, too, so, so am I.

The headlines in both papers today are about the lack of rainfall.  Right now, I'm just glad it wasn't rainy over the holidays and either there is too much or too little rain, or snow, or something is wrong.  There is no normal year as far as I can remember.  We're always being whipped into hysteria, but I refuse to go down that road.  Let's see what spring brings.  Of course, I can be cavalier, since I'm no skier.  And without a ton of snow on the roof of our cabin, all we have to worry about is a tree coming down on top of it.  I don't have the best interests of the state at heart.

Old Age Day by Day January 3, 2012

Very stramge - this 2012 business.  One cannot help but think a bit apocalliptically.  On New Year's Day night I had a long, strange dream.  It was the end of the world, but still, there was enough time to administer a shot to people in hospitals, and like others, I voluntarily went and had the shot.  The shot would somehow avoid a more awful death, whatever that was.  I was lying on the hospital bed, and a male doctor came in and asked me if I was fearful.  I said no, I was comforted by the fact that I was a part of the huge organism of the universe.  After a while, I found myself on the carpeted hospital floor in a hallway, and there was a gorgeous red swath of cloth, otherwise things were getting distorted and I was losing my calm state.  I rolled over and saw through a doorway my father grinning at me - his full size grown head on the body of a baby.  I thought, oh, it's okay, and there is no real progressive time.  I was scared but I knew he was there to guide me.

I definitely shouldn't have seen the movie "On the Beach" recently.  It is such a calm, terrifying movie.

Last night I had no heavy duty dreams.  We watched the Rose Bowl parade, then took down all the Christmas decorations, much more easily, since my reorganization last year, and then watched the Rose Bowl game at our son's house and ate chips and dip and petted his dog.  Then we came home and my husband watched the Fiesta Bowl on my computer out in my studio, and I watched a movie with the dogs ("Out of Sight").  The Oregon Ducks won, which was satisfying (we have a daughter and granddaughter in that vicinity) but Stanford lost at the last second.  So disappointing, as we root for the West when we can.  But both games were so close and exciting every single second. 

Today I'm going to replenish the bare cupboard and pick up my daughter-in-law from the airport and have my foster granddaughter in the afternoon.  A full day.  Thus begins the new year, and I am grateful to be beginning, yet again, what has been begun before.