The Third Act

more light

There's a lot more light in my dining room.  There's a lot more light on the patio and into the screened porch and along the little footpath next to it.  Over the past few days my neighbor and I had a couple very large trees taken down.  Both the trees were in close proximity to our houses and both had recently been dropping more and more limbs.  

It's never easy, the decision to take down a tree.  It's hard to say whether or not these two were growing when our houses were built over 60 years ago.  My guess is no because they would have been hard to build around without damaging.  There are some older trees on our lots, but these particular ones were saplings at most (just my uneducated guess) at that time.  In any case, this action had been percolating for years and with the increased limb drop we decided it was time.  I need to burn some incense out there and get some new plantings in as an offering for the lives of the two trees and their years of shade and shelter.  Can you tell I carry a bit of guilt?  Oh, what being raised Catholic did for me.

As if I didn't already have enough areas of garden space to tend, here's another to pull my attention.  Sometimes I think I've bitten off far more than I can chew.  But then again, my standards are probably a bit high for how I expect myself to keep on top of everything.  Truth is, the plants do a pretty good job on their own.  It's okay if some weeds grow, if spent blooms aren't immediately trimmed (the birds eat the seeds, so...), if the state of the garden gets a little wild.  I'm learning to relax about the situation, to be curious and to follow my own energy patterns in this effort.

The ideas are being generated, though...a passion vine up the side of the porch, maybe some more berry plants or some tall perennials.  A jasmine out there would be nice, the fragrance wafting in through the windows and door.  Time to get busy.

 

 

 

 

wild writing

Sometimes I'll post what I've written for the writing group in which I participate.  This is one of those times...

 

This is what’s falling into my hand…. Trying to write again. Listening to a poem and not feeling where I’m connecting to it. I wonder, is there something wrong with me? Am I that closed off? I know I’m tired today. I slept better the night before last, but today’s tiredness makes practices more challenging.

 

This is what’s falling into my hand…. A little bit of optimism. A little bit of hope. What’s that about? Is it the lavender I’m now working with, drops into the diffuser a couple times a day? I read it’s good for anxiety. I can’t take the pharmaceuticals because they mess up my bodily processes. I’m seeking other modalities, herbs, foods, practices. How do I move my body more freely? How do I breathe into that long forgotten space in my center? How do I compassionately, gently, notice the places of ease rather than distress?

 

This is what’s falling into my hand…. Right here, in this moment, a funny little dog who is acting up because I’m not 100% engaged with her. The couch covers in the dryer, after washing all the fur out in anticipation of company. And there’s the garden, wild, overgrown, with hummingbird and goldfinch visitors.

 

This is what’s falling into my hand…. The anticipation of a visit to family out west. It’s been so long. How will we all have changed? Will they notice my long hair with more gray than when we last met? Will they see the extra layer of fat that’s settled onto this post menopausal frame, like it’s trying to cushion and protect me, girding my boundaries? But I’m so excited to touch and hug them all, to share food and stories and our lives, if only for a week.

 

This is what’s falling into my hand… A slight feeling of inspiration, an idea for a drawing, an impulse to put that film I shot two weeks ago in DC into a tank and literally see what develops.

 

But there is that shadow too, the threat that lurks just below the surface…that the sadness and fear will pull me under again. It’s there, it may rise but it’ll also pass. This I’ve learned from years of experience. It will fall into my hand for a moment, but I’ll hold it openly and let it slip through my fingers.

 

 

 

 

When a sandwich...

When a sandwich is not just a sandwich. 

It's a memory. 

Of times that felt more whole, safer, more loving. 

That pickle in there? 

It reminds me of going to the Junkett down at the plaza, usually with Matt. 

We'd get the avocado/veggie sandwich and the three salad plate. 

We'd split. 

I taste that pickle in my cheese and pickle sandwich (not like the British version...this is dill pickle, lettuce and mayo with the cheese...toasted rye with seeds this time) and I'm back there.

I'm there in that time, that wasn't perfect, but was offering me something I've been missing now since it ended.

It doesn't always happen and I'm working to make it happen less, but the memories tug, particularly when triggered.

I did better yesterday, I was more present, I felt more optimism...but last night I didn't sleep well, so...

I carry on.

 

 

 

Tuesday...

What's happening today?  An appointment with a new bodyworker, to address pain and tension issues.  A new batch of soda starting...sassafras with buckwheat honey.  Some strange surge of energy, enthusiasm and purpose.  I have no real idea where that last bit came from.  My default these days is not such a place.  But...I did actually get a decent amount of sleep last night.  And...I'm trying out using lavender for my emotional issues.  Life works in mysterious ways sometimes and I appreciate the days that feel better, more connected and content.

The garden got a good shower yesterday as rain fell.  Thankfully nothing too intense, but an adequate soaking nonetheless.  The sky was pretty impressive at times as the weather moved through.  First image is from when the storm was active and the second from a dusk walk around the neighborhood when things calmed.

So far my little neighborhood has fared okay this summer.  That's always a blessing.  You just never know when storms will turn violent, or when the rain will disappear for weeks, or when the temperatures will get unbearable.  I make the effort to be with what is, even though that can be really hard.  Being open to change, being able to respond usefully to challenges, that's the intention.  But I do appreciate calm when it visits.

 

 

 

stragglers

I have a handful of rolls of film to process.  The black and white I'll do here at home, but the color I'll send out.  There may still be another roll in the Zero pinhole almost finished as well.  

In the mean time, here are a few pinhole stragglers from way back at the beginning of May.  Those yellow brassica flowers are long gone, the plants spent and pulled out.  The California poppy are also done blooming, although the plants remain in the ground.  In the garden this morning I was transporting a few wheel barrows full of botanical matter that's transitioned, out back to the compost.  There was poppy straw, flax stalks, and a huge Asian squash of some kind, that only wanted to take over the garden without offering anything in return (I've since put in a few cucumber seeds at the base of that trellis).  It's supposed to rain/storm this afternoon so hopefully everything will get a good soaking.

 

 

 

 

what is

More flesh, dimpled flesh, wrinkles, graying hair

Pain, heartache, uncertainty, worry

Potential, creativity, strength, awareness of beauty

Cautious optimism, acceptance, allowance, empathy

Tenaciousness, focus (at times), vision, love

It's a mixed bag, isn't it?  It's even more of a mixed bag as a post menopausal woman.  The time of life when you either move forward, or wither.  I don't really want to wither, so I guess there's no choice.  What is, is now, no other place to be while moving into the next now, and the next.

(btw...hotel room mirrors are exceptional at revealing all of what is, right now)

 

 

full moon

Letting go of the past.  Freeing up the stagnant energy and releasing it into the ether.  Those stone monuments so solid and unmoving, they are not me...can't let them be me.  I've been in this frozen state too long, so long it's become normal.  Nope, enough of that.  Gotta move into the the life affirming, energy conjuring, joy producing potential that resides deep down.  Scary stuff, two steps forward one step back kinda stuff.  That's ok.  No judgment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

letting go of the past

I stayed in a hotel that I've been staying at since 2006, on my recent getaway to DC area.  It's weird though...this time...I had the feeling that connection should end.  It's rooted in the past, when my life was very different, when I had a different vision of how things might be going forward.  There's too much head stuff in that space.  I find it interesting that it's just now I'm coming to this realization.

I need to move forward.  Looking back is fine, but I know I have a tendency to sort of emotionally live in the past.  I feel like my body and my mind are both telling me to move on from many things.  Life is interesting, that's for sure!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tuesday

My writing brain has gone on hiatus.  So...here's a bit of something that didn't require much...

From last Friday in DC...

A Falun Gong event, apparently.  There were lots of folks.  There was a stage/tent area set up.  I don't envy them staying out in the heat of that day!

And...George Washington in the National Gallery.

 

 

 

 

National Gallery of Art

I'm back from my mini vacay up to DC area.  It was a nice time, seeing art and visiting friends.  It was not without it's trepidations on either end, but I'm working through all that.  

I spend more time in the east wing of the National Gallery of Art, than I ever did before.  The dozen or so Rothko's were particularly attracting to me.  I'd never seen that many of his paintings in one place before and the colors of the selection were so rich and deep.  Just wonderful.

The blue rooster needed a visit and its own little photo, of course.