Dying Creates a Clear Distillation
of what life truly means.
What it boils down to; its essence.....
which is Love.
Aging also distills. It makes clear
the reality of change.
Especially the change in our body, and
heart.
After 59 or so, her body becomes the
witness of her lifelong care or neglect.
And there's only empathy for any neglect.
It always comes as a consequence of too much stress,
or pain.
For her heart, she accepts that it has and
will continue to be broken, with death or
heartache;
and she chooses to go on.
As we age, how much pain do we have; in our body,
in our soul.
How have we learned to deal with the pain, and
is it working?
We get to face ourselves and figure out
How To Lessen The Pain.
"If you always do what you've always done,
you'll always get what you've always gotten."
What will it take to Forgive, Have Empathy,
Have Compassion for Yourself.
Then for Others.
...eldermuse.net....
June 30, 2009
June 26, 2009
Thank You Deepak Chopra
Deepak Chopra's tribute to his friend Michael, who just died tragically, needlessly; dared to speak the truth about a medical system which creates and feeds addiction. In Deepak's words:"He was surrounded by enablers, including a shameful plethora of
M.D.s in Los Angeles and elsewhere who supplied him with prescription drugs."
Thank you Deepak for saying what everyone knows but doesn't speak.
We have a very broken medical system.
Wherein physicians prescribe medication which is not titrated to actual need, actual person - sex, age, height, weight, total condition, other meds, diet -
wherein the patient is free to consult as many physicians as they can afford and
obtain the same, or similar addictive medications and take as much as they
please. And we have had notable tragic deaths to testify to this reality.
Margaret died of drug misuse, Anna Nicole died of drug misuse, Elvis, Heath, and now Michael too. And countless ones whose names I don't know. Sudden cardiac event. Iatrogenic cardiac event.
Thank you Deepak for giving voice to Michael's pain and abuse which left
lingering physical/real cellular changes which created disease, physical and mental.
We still wish to think that Descartes was correct, that we are separate from
our bodies, that we are only our minds. "I think therefore I am. "
The people who knew deep pain as children, ALWAYS continue to suffer
pain as adults. Always body pain, sometimes pain of the soul or both.
The Cartesian split pervades medical research and practice.
We have yet to fully accept the fact that our body is dramatically
effected by psychological pain, by what we believe and feel.
Our body, this extension of our hearts and minds which only truly
functions as one with who we are, where we live, what we do,
what we believe.
It is all a perfect unity which keeps being segmented, divided up,
desecrated by the very people, physicians, who know in their guts,
that Descartes was wrong.
Who know that we are truly one unity.
Thank you Antonio Damasio for telling us so.
Thank you Deepak for reminding us that it is so.
M.D.s in Los Angeles and elsewhere who supplied him with prescription drugs."
Thank you Deepak for saying what everyone knows but doesn't speak.
We have a very broken medical system.
Wherein physicians prescribe medication which is not titrated to actual need, actual person - sex, age, height, weight, total condition, other meds, diet -
wherein the patient is free to consult as many physicians as they can afford and
obtain the same, or similar addictive medications and take as much as they
please. And we have had notable tragic deaths to testify to this reality.
Margaret died of drug misuse, Anna Nicole died of drug misuse, Elvis, Heath, and now Michael too. And countless ones whose names I don't know. Sudden cardiac event. Iatrogenic cardiac event.
Thank you Deepak for giving voice to Michael's pain and abuse which left
lingering physical/real cellular changes which created disease, physical and mental.
We still wish to think that Descartes was correct, that we are separate from
our bodies, that we are only our minds. "I think therefore I am. "
The people who knew deep pain as children, ALWAYS continue to suffer
pain as adults. Always body pain, sometimes pain of the soul or both.
The Cartesian split pervades medical research and practice.
We have yet to fully accept the fact that our body is dramatically
effected by psychological pain, by what we believe and feel.
Our body, this extension of our hearts and minds which only truly
functions as one with who we are, where we live, what we do,
what we believe.
It is all a perfect unity which keeps being segmented, divided up,
desecrated by the very people, physicians, who know in their guts,
that Descartes was wrong.
Who know that we are truly one unity.
Thank you Antonio Damasio for telling us so.
Thank you Deepak for reminding us that it is so.
June 23, 2009
Twenty One Years
Today is twenty one years of relating to Margaret.
Eighteen of them in flesh and blood and three of them
in my heart, mind, and soul.
I have H-O-W-L-E-D at losing her. My being was
daily dragged through Hell, inch by brutal inch....
And here I am, out the other end, reborn.
Learning again how to live, wanting again to live.
Yet I love every minute when I choose to connect
with her, actually "talk to" this human being whose
essence becomes clearer and clearer as I reflect on
her, and our life. My heart still swells upon this reflection.
Twenty one years has brought total peace, acceptance,
and love of her soul as well as of mine.
June 21, 2009
Eighteen of them in flesh and blood and three of them
in my heart, mind, and soul.
I have H-O-W-L-E-D at losing her. My being was
daily dragged through Hell, inch by brutal inch....
And here I am, out the other end, reborn.
Learning again how to live, wanting again to live.
Yet I love every minute when I choose to connect
with her, actually "talk to" this human being whose
essence becomes clearer and clearer as I reflect on
her, and our life. My heart still swells upon this reflection.
Twenty one years has brought total peace, acceptance,
and love of her soul as well as of mine.
June 21, 2009
Oh Rumi
Rumi, I love to enter into the soul of your words.
Words which express an ecstacy that only
Lovers comprehend.
Unconditional; Complete; Giving;
Receiving Love.
This Love is the true reality of the world.
It is the only purpose to life.
Everything else pales.
Eldermuse. June 23, 2009
Words which express an ecstacy that only
Lovers comprehend.
Unconditional; Complete; Giving;
Receiving Love.
This Love is the true reality of the world.
It is the only purpose to life.
Everything else pales.
Eldermuse. June 23, 2009
Hugging Amma Ji
Hugging Amma Ji is Hugging Divinity.
It is both, and at once, the experience of hugging the wind
and hugging a solid, mature, smooth manzanita tree, together.
She is small, slight even, yet massive and powerful.
She is transparent, unseen, mightily felt and enveloping.
While sitting in a field of roses and sandalwood, her Divine
fragrance announces her purity.
All senses fully, profoundly experience her embrace.
Her feel, touch, warmth, softness, power, ambrosial smell,
color and body envelop and absorb you into her.
My head in her bosom, her right hand at my back, her left
hand clasping my head tight, my right ear to her lips....
she repeats softly, gently, magically: My daughter,
my daughter, my daughter, my daughter; over and over
and over. I don't want this to end, but it does with her
firm letting go of the moment, and without thinking I am
helped to my feet by her attendants, and she or they,
who cares, press an Amma blessed flower petal and a
Hershey's kiss into my hand, and I stumble away from
Bliss.
I immediately placed the flower petal in my mouth and
added taste to this embrace. I wanted to take her love
directly into my body.
I sat down, flooded with tears, my soul melting.
My tounge tasted my salt tears together with her
sweet perfume on my lips.
Such fulfilling love is a miracle to feel. I am blessed.
It is both, and at once, the experience of hugging the wind
and hugging a solid, mature, smooth manzanita tree, together.
She is small, slight even, yet massive and powerful.
She is transparent, unseen, mightily felt and enveloping.
While sitting in a field of roses and sandalwood, her Divine
fragrance announces her purity.
All senses fully, profoundly experience her embrace.
Her feel, touch, warmth, softness, power, ambrosial smell,
color and body envelop and absorb you into her.
My head in her bosom, her right hand at my back, her left
hand clasping my head tight, my right ear to her lips....
she repeats softly, gently, magically: My daughter,
my daughter, my daughter, my daughter; over and over
and over. I don't want this to end, but it does with her
firm letting go of the moment, and without thinking I am
helped to my feet by her attendants, and she or they,
who cares, press an Amma blessed flower petal and a
Hershey's kiss into my hand, and I stumble away from
Bliss.
I immediately placed the flower petal in my mouth and
added taste to this embrace. I wanted to take her love
directly into my body.
I sat down, flooded with tears, my soul melting.
My tounge tasted my salt tears together with her
sweet perfume on my lips.
Such fulfilling love is a miracle to feel. I am blessed.
Two Saints
I have had the grace, the extreme fortune to meet two living Saints in my life.
I repeatedly sat at the feet of one, Sant Ajaib Singh Ji, for hours and hours,
imbibing his Grace and sweet words of Naam and Wisdom. This was the Soul
who allowed me to make sense of the insanity of the world. This was the Soul
who provided me with a bedrock of consciousness for my actions, who made
me a moral being.
Last year I encountered another Saint, Amma Ji.
I have friends who had spoken lovingly of her,
who go to her retreats when she visits the United States.
So I knew who she was, but had never bothered to seek
her out. But a visit with Seattle friends proved to be just
the right ticket to my first Amma Hug.
That first Hug left me limp with longing for more.
I was hugged to the core of my soul.
So this year I went on my own to get my second Amma Hug.
(See Hugging Amma Ji, next.)
How perfect that one Saint was a man, and one is a woman.
How perfect that I have begun both my 60th and 61st years
with a Divine Embrace.
No better Birthday Gift ever.
I repeatedly sat at the feet of one, Sant Ajaib Singh Ji, for hours and hours,
imbibing his Grace and sweet words of Naam and Wisdom. This was the Soul
who allowed me to make sense of the insanity of the world. This was the Soul
who provided me with a bedrock of consciousness for my actions, who made
me a moral being.
Last year I encountered another Saint, Amma Ji.
I have friends who had spoken lovingly of her,
who go to her retreats when she visits the United States.
So I knew who she was, but had never bothered to seek
her out. But a visit with Seattle friends proved to be just
the right ticket to my first Amma Hug.
That first Hug left me limp with longing for more.
I was hugged to the core of my soul.
So this year I went on my own to get my second Amma Hug.
(See Hugging Amma Ji, next.)
How perfect that one Saint was a man, and one is a woman.
How perfect that I have begun both my 60th and 61st years
with a Divine Embrace.
No better Birthday Gift ever.
June 17, 2009
Delete Photos
My aging computer balked at the one thousand
or so new photos I added to her failing memory.
She began to move even slower than before,
and I found myself waiting, waiting, waiting for
simple tasks to be done.
So I began to delete old photos, to save space.
Making sure I'd saved them first (but can one
ever truly save anything?).
I came across a group of Margaret's Puerto Vallerta
photos; the 100 or so bullfight ones and the 200 ones
taken in the nearby La Tovara river and crocodile reserve.
A bloodsport never to my liking, but for Margaret,
the ritualistic, ceremonious killing of bulls spoke volumes
about her four formative years living in Spain.
She loved Spain, her people, her customs and habits.
Even this seemingly barbaric bloodsport, now played
in the New World.
So nearly the entire fight was captured digitally.
The La Tovara photos spoke of her eye for detail and
showed the caprice of her camera choices. Egrets here,
turtles there; an entire series of crocodiles, somehow
not menacing, just curious, scaly, large eyed
ancient beasts captured up close.
Lots of apparently meaningless river vegetation, fallen logs,
the bow of the boat, other birds, and even her hand.
She took a photo of her hand.
Outstretched, palm facing the camera.
I took the time to find the disk I knew I'd saved all these to;
to make sure.
Then I went about deleting, deleting, deleting.
I am now about to Empty the Recycle Bin, pull the trigger
on these 300 computer images, and I am overcome,
once again, (will it never be raw,
will it ever cease to elicit such deep emotion)
with profound saddness, deep appreciation, and love
for this woman who was my life of eighteen years.
or so new photos I added to her failing memory.
She began to move even slower than before,
and I found myself waiting, waiting, waiting for
simple tasks to be done.
So I began to delete old photos, to save space.
Making sure I'd saved them first (but can one
ever truly save anything?).
I came across a group of Margaret's Puerto Vallerta
photos; the 100 or so bullfight ones and the 200 ones
taken in the nearby La Tovara river and crocodile reserve.
A bloodsport never to my liking, but for Margaret,
the ritualistic, ceremonious killing of bulls spoke volumes
about her four formative years living in Spain.
She loved Spain, her people, her customs and habits.
Even this seemingly barbaric bloodsport, now played
in the New World.
So nearly the entire fight was captured digitally.
The La Tovara photos spoke of her eye for detail and
showed the caprice of her camera choices. Egrets here,
turtles there; an entire series of crocodiles, somehow
not menacing, just curious, scaly, large eyed
ancient beasts captured up close.
Lots of apparently meaningless river vegetation, fallen logs,
the bow of the boat, other birds, and even her hand.
She took a photo of her hand.
Outstretched, palm facing the camera.
I took the time to find the disk I knew I'd saved all these to;
to make sure.
Then I went about deleting, deleting, deleting.
I am now about to Empty the Recycle Bin, pull the trigger
on these 300 computer images, and I am overcome,
once again, (will it never be raw,
will it ever cease to elicit such deep emotion)
with profound saddness, deep appreciation, and love
for this woman who was my life of eighteen years.
June 08, 2009
Home
June 6th 2009
I am home from a month of travel.
I allow myself to look at my home
with new eyes.
She is safe and beautiful.
Now I have more beauty to give her,
to adorn her. From my travels.
Vessels, wall hangings, bits of glass,
beautiful posters, a bell;
From Israel. Croatia. Hungary.
Small things which tell a story.
I acknowledge that I have created
a beautiful home and a beautiful life.
I count my blessings. Daily.
I am home from a month of travel.
I allow myself to look at my home
with new eyes.
She is safe and beautiful.
Now I have more beauty to give her,
to adorn her. From my travels.
Vessels, wall hangings, bits of glass,
beautiful posters, a bell;
From Israel. Croatia. Hungary.
Small things which tell a story.
I acknowledge that I have created
a beautiful home and a beautiful life.
I count my blessings. Daily.
Travel and Compassion
June 6th 2009
Travel allows me to exercise choices, on a daily basis,
which provide proof of who I am.
It allows me to choose
compassion for others while balancing compassion for myself.
What gives, what doesn't give.
What do I tolerate/allow, or not.
When do I intercede, or not.
My back hurting, with about 18 pounds on it, I want to sit
taking the tram in Budapest. And there's an empty seat.
Do I give up my seat to the older woman?
I motion to her that I will stand and she motions to me that
I should stay seated.
And we smile at each other.
It warms my heart and confirms our goodness.
Travel allows me to exercise choices, on a daily basis,
which provide proof of who I am.
It allows me to choose
compassion for others while balancing compassion for myself.
What gives, what doesn't give.
What do I tolerate/allow, or not.
When do I intercede, or not.
My back hurting, with about 18 pounds on it, I want to sit
taking the tram in Budapest. And there's an empty seat.
Do I give up my seat to the older woman?
I motion to her that I will stand and she motions to me that
I should stay seated.
And we smile at each other.
It warms my heart and confirms our goodness.
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