Connected

“People have had enough, both socially and politically. This is becoming ever clearer. The anger, the sense of mass injustice, is rising. But, for the first time on our history, ordinary people are taking matters into their own hands, in a constructive, rather than destructive, way… Allow people to feel that they have a voice, and rights, and, come the Revolution, the lampposts will be empty!”

I hope you enjoy this inspiring post, which was a balm for my optimistic, yet somewhat down-trodden, soul. I, too, feel the stirrings of the disenchanted and know we each have more power than we dare to believe. And I, too, am hoping for a revolution!

As a US citizen, I breathe in the pervasive air of injustice, anger and apathy every day. My jaw drops when I watch the national news and hear people with power spew testaments to their profound detachment from us “regular folk” and from those who live in poverty. (Yes, there are starving children, right here in America!) And then there are the verbal assaults on women and the regular reminders of the physical abuse they endure every day, in places near and far.

One world, one people, one voice… Alien Aura’s “Connected” is an eloquent reminder to speak up!

I Love You!

I love you!

It’s become clear to me that these three words were meant to be spoken regularly to those you care for, rather than being saved for special occasions, like the “good” china. Love may be as precious as shimmering cut crystal, but it shouldn’t be hidden out-of-site or protected from clumsy hands. Real love should be given with abandon and the trust that the receiver will hold it dear. And if not? Love is never squandered. If it’s met with resistance or taken advantage of, be glad that you’ve had the courage to express your heart’s greatest joy. And have faith! For there will be many times when your love will be received with gratitude. Gratitude that matches your own, every time you have the opportunity to say, “I love you!” For that is the true purpose of love. Love was made to be given away, released into the space between you and another and into the infinite space of our magnificent universe. Indeed, love makes the world go ’round! And, just in case you care, like all good things, love will be returned to you. 

Dedicated, with love always, to Shari Lynn Carney.

Gone

I opened my Facebook page, intending to read something amusing to my mother, who was on the phone with me from her hospital bed. “Oh! I said, “There’s a message…But I’m not sure who it’s from.” To which my mother replied, “Go ahead and read it.” So I did.

The message was brief, with no slow build-up to its content, no easing me into the words I was about to read. There was only an “I’m sorry” and a misspelled word that jumped out at me, before I read the whole sentence. It said, “Shari was kill in a motorcycle accident.” I furrowed my brow and read it again. And then I slumped backward, shrieking and shaking and crying, still holding onto the phone as my mother asked, “What happened?” She asked again and then pleaded for an answer, until I finally heard her, when she yelled out the words. I forced myself to sit still, took a deep breath and said slowly, with precise diction, “Shari has died.” Then I said I had to go.

The next twenty minutes were lost to the kind of cry that’s come over me only once before, on the day my father died. I had been by his side when he took his last breath and remember driving away from the hospital, as the clouds changed shape and the colors around me bled and for a moment I thought, “Is this a flashback?” I knew it wasn’t, as sure as I knew I just needed to make it home. I drove carefully, gripping the steering wheel tightly, because that wheel was the only thing holding me upright.

When I finally reached my driveway and turned off the engine, I made it out of my car, into the back door, past the cat in the kitchen and onto the living room rug, where my legs buckled beneath me and I crashed to my knees, hands and forehead. Sounds came out of me that I never knew existed, sounds I was making that were beyond my control. A howling, a bleating, a wrenching cry from deep inside me; it was so powerful my torso rolled on its current. I remember I thought briefly, “What will the neighbors think?” But even if I cared, there was nothing I could do. I surrendered to my sorrow and my aching agony, until I was finally still and whimpering and totally exhausted.

It’s been a few evenings since I read that brief message. I’m calm, now. And numb. And I know I need time. I’m being gentle with myself, putting one foot in front of the other, hour by hour, day by day. I make progress, but then I’ll trip over a memory and begin crying again, holding onto whatever’s nearby for support. My history with Shari stretches back for decades, so there are many reminders and they’re everywhere. They’re in the vase on my dresser, in the cupboard with my flowers petals, in a photo on my refrigerator, in the scent on my skin. But Shari’s not here, anymore, she’s gone. And I just want her back.

Lost

Please send me your comfort, and send prayers up to heaven. I’ve lost one of the best friends in my life. She taught me so very much, about love and forgiveness. We shared secrets and dreams, tales about lovers and loss, we marveled at Mother Nature and turned her inspiration into craft. For years, we were each other’s soft place to fall. She loved me, unconditionally and I loved her right back. And man, did we laugh! I can still hear hers ringing… And her hugs? They were the best in the world. She radiated such goodness to those that knew her; I know I ‘m not the only one weeping tonight. You were always an angel, Shari, but now you have your wings. Don’t fly too far, yet. Linger and help us all through our loss.

Benched

A couple of weeks ago, I traveled home to visit my family and friends. It was my final “Victory Lap” before I return to work and lose the freedom to get out-of-town whenever I please. (It was BIG fun; I’ll share more about my trip at a later date.)

My last stop was my daughter’s place in NYC. Somehow, during the four-hour trek from Manhattan to Massachusetts, I injured my right arm from my “frozen” shoulder down to my fingertips. With time, there’s been some improvement, but I’ve reached a plateau. Yesterday, I finally said “Uncle” and called an orthopedist. I also emailed a “Therapeutic Yoga” practitioner I learned about recently; her husband happened to overhear me complaining that I was unable to accomplish anything but “Child’s Pose,” as he was measuring my apartment windows for new screens. (Ah, blessed be serendipity!) And after a wee bit of research, I visited Amazon.com and ordered a highly rated wrist band and a jar of the all-natural miracle potion that I’d brought to my mother. (It’s worked wonders on her badly sprained elbow.)

Unfortunately, what aggravates my wrist injury more than anything is typing. I’m using one finger on my left hand to write this, and it’s a very slow process. So, for now, I’m on the “injured” list. I hope I’ll be back to regular blogging soon. Also, I’m sorry that I’m unable to thank those of you who are now “following” me. At least I’m still able to read; I enjoy the wonderful array of writers here at the WordPress community. See you in my “Reader!” Be well!

Word for Today – Gratitude

GRATEFUL – noun

the quality or feeling of being grateful or thankful.

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There are many reasons why this image illustrates “gratitude” for me. Perhaps there are other words that spring to mind when you look at this photograph. Or maybe you would use a different image to depict what “grateful” means to you.

“Word for Today” uses a picture to illustrate a definition according to my personal aesthetics and sensibilities. I hope it also gives you something to ponder. Enjoy! And please comment, if you feel moved to do so.

Joy is…

“Joy is what happens to us when we allow ourselves to recognize how good things really are.” Marianne Williamson

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Cancer – A Public Service Announcement

I recently learned that a friend of mine died after a long battle with cancer. The news came to me while I was in a blissful state of mind, following a recent visit to my oncologist. I was told that I’m cancer-free and was filled with gratitude. I’d been contacting my family and friends, sharing good news and thinking how different these calls were, compared to those I’d made when I was first diagnosed. Now I’m picturing my friend’s family, making the saddest calls of all.

Cancer takes lives in many ways. It may last for decades, with alternating periods of illness and remission. It can claim its victims after a few years, because the organ it’s invaded is more vulnerable or the type of cancer is more deadly. And cancer might also be fatal within a few months, because it was diagnosed too late and treatment is futile. I’ve heard too many of these stories, lately. “He was gone in three months!” “She felt fine, but her new job required a physical and they discovered she had cancer.” “He was only 35; they don’t do a colonoscopy until you’re 50!” The last remark was made by a nurse who was tending to me during my recent check-up.

It’s common knowledge that the earlier cancer is detected, the better the outcome will be. Having periodic diagnostic tests is very important, but I’d like to discuss another important component of cancer prevention. I’ll briefly tell you my story, even though the details are very “personal.” My heartfelt intention is to help anyone I can by sharing my experience with this life-changing illness.

While I was at work one day, I used the bathroom and was surprised to discover a small amount of blood in the toilet. Obviously, I was somewhat concerned, but I felt fine, so I returned to my desk. About an hour later, I became a bit dizzy and called a friend who drove me to the hospital ER. After an examination, the doctor told me I had an internal hemorrhoid that had developed a blood clot. I asked what the treatment was and the doctor said no treatment would be necessary. She suggested I “wait until it becomes too annoying” and at that point contact a surgeon, who would remove the hemorrhoid with a simple procedure.

It’s my opinion that if something’s in your body that isn’t supposed to be there, it should be removed. Waiting can necessitate a more involved or extensive procedure; I prefer to nip my medical issues in the bud. So, the next day I called a few surgeons for a second opinion. During one call I was asked “Were you bleeding?” When I answered “Yes,” I was told “We need to see you today.”

During my visit, I was examined and three biopsies were taken. Four days later the surgeon called me to explain that I had a rare form of rectal cancer. Luckily, further tests revealed I was in Stage One, but the tumor was growing rapidly, so my treatment needed to begin ASAP. The goal was to avoid surgery through the aggressive use of chemotherapy and radiation. I met with my team of doctors, learned as much as I needed to be an active participant in my cancer treatment, spiritually prepared myself for “battle,” and with loving support from my family and friends went through four months of treatment, eventually emerging as a grateful cancer survivor. My tumor was completely destroyed and I did not need surgery!

When I tell my friends this story, almost every one of them remarks, “I would have just gone home and waited for the situation to worsen,” as was suggested to me in the ER. One of my physicians remarked that oncologists rarely see a case of rectal cancer in Stage One, because people assume they have an internal hemorrhoid or simply ignore their symptoms. I recently read that instances of this type of cancer are increasing, because most people wait until they’re in real distress before seeing a physician.

The point I feel compelled to make is this: Pay attention to your body’s signals and take action. I realize that many people avoid second opinions or doctor visits because they fear hearing “bad news.” However, if you let fear guide you, the news you get at a later date could be worse than what you’ll hear today. It’s been said that we’re motivated by either fear or love. Please, love your body and listen as it guides you!

Turbulence

FEBRUARY, 1970

I was sitting next to a priest on a United Airlines plane, bound for Kansas City and rocking so hard its metal skeleton clattered. The Man of God was no comfort to me. After the pilot’s stammering announcement that we’d be making an emergency landing, he’d slapped his palms together in a prayer position, jammed his eyes shut and began muttering Hail Mary’s to himself, over and over. I noticed beads of sweat were dripping down his collar, so I looked out the window, squinting through the blur of clouds that were pouring down snow. Suddenly, I saw the wing moving. It looked more like a piece of a model airplane than a jumbo jet and it scared the hell out of me. My stomach lurched as I realized something I’d thought was quite sturdy was actually fragile and could easily be broken, taking me with it. Little did I know this revelation would take on an even scarier form within the next few days. As the pilot steered the plane downward, aiming toward a landing spot in a snow-covered cornfield, I felt scared and vulnerable. Which is exactly how I would feel for the next five days.

 

Word for Today – Beautiful

BEAUTIFUL—adjective

having beauty; possessing qualities that give great pleasure or satisfaction to see, hear, think about, etc.; delighting the senses or mind.

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There are many reasons why this image illustrates “beautiful” for me. Perhaps there are other words that spring to mind when you look at this photograph. Or maybe you would use a different image to depict what “beautiful” means to you.

“Word for Today” uses a picture to illustrate a definition according to my personal aesthetics and sensibilities. I hope it also gives you something to ponder. Enjoy! And please comment, if you feel moved to do so.

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