A friend asked me quite a while back to write something for a blogazine on what it's like to have Parkinson's Disease. I have been thinking about it since then. I could discuss the physical side of it....but that is only one level.
For me, perhaps, one of the greatest impacts it comes with is the desire to look much more closely at day to day life, to understand on a deeper level what life is/can be about.
We spend so much time focused on things outside of ourself, the goings on around us, money concerns, how we look, etc.
Becoming ill somehow forced me into the position, a seemingly urgent position at first, of trying to understand...."Why?" Why me, why this, why that? And there were never any answers. But there was something I felt, below the surface.
To the other questions --Why are we here? What is our/my purpose? How do I want to live the remaining years of my life? What is most important to me in terms of my focus? There were no obvious answers that seemed to solidify.
My therapist and I gave me permission to ski much more...which may seem trivial and self-centered. But there is actually some form of communication between Mother Nature/Heaven & Earth, the world beneath the surface and I when I am in the mountains. It's difficult to verbalize - the feeling of interacting with the forces of nature - gravity, also fear--trying to look it in the eye, somehow trying to come to know myself and the Earth better simply by being more present in each moment.
Shortly after leaving work, I started to spontaneously write poetry (never mind whether it was any good). But the words come from the subconscious, as though taking dictation. They come from somewhere other than the mind.
It is this place of instinct from which art, in general, comes I think. There is a beauty/poetry in seeing the relationship between forms and lines and taking a photo, for example. You may have no idea why you just snapped that shot...it's not conventional....but there is some feeling of flow, of a beauty beyond the power of words --some form of common force in the world----trying to harmonize with other forces.
It is this force that seems to me to be at the center of the answers that I seek. And I think it somehow fundamentally comes down to love (love of the Earth, of animals, of our common humanity, of each other in all our glowing and less than wonderful moments).
As Henri Cartier-Bresson says, we are simultaneously living and dying. Nothing is static; nothing is permanent. Each fleeting moment carries all of life within it and it can never be re-lived.
What will we choose to do with each of these moments? What will we spend each of these moments focused on--earning a living perhaps, doing all of the daily tasks of living -- yes, of course, but perhaps guided by the "flow" (the "force??") of love/life that permeates every molecule of Earth and its inhabitants.....or perhaps at least trying to better understand that "flow".
I think I have come to believe that the underlying purpose of life is the expression of love......for ourselves, for each other, for the Earth (our home) and all of its creatures. That is the theory, for now at least, that instinctively fits and feels best for me.
If I could live the rest of my life devoted to trying to be true to that approach, I would feel that becoming ill and coming to that realization was perhaps one of the greatest gifts ever given to me. As always, that's much easier said than actually done.
Sunday, July 28, 2013
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Friday, July 26, 2013
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Henri Cartier-Bresson !!
"Nothing worth knowing can be taught" according to Henri Cartier-Bresson.
He advises not to think when taking a shot - just feel whether or not it's right.
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Sunday, July 21, 2013
Trying to Throw Out the Garbage
Faith
Mistrust abandoned me along
a winding road.
Empty air
stood still, finally quiet.
Lost? Which way
to turn?
The wind insisted on a plan.
Just stand for now
and breathe.
Close eyes and see?
To Love the Weeds
Today's poem is wildly in need of consistent metaphor and yet it has SOMETHING meaningful to say (if only to me):
To Love the Weeds
Savories of slivered scream,
remembered dream of bridges built
across illusion’s reign
the simple sparkle of clear water.
No hiss, no whispered foul shall smirch
my curtains drawn wide open
upon these weary shores
of slow drawn stretch.
May you be soon reborn to feel
the glow of autumn’s crimson paling
the slow twitch end of greening hope,
the kiss of forming statue that is inexorably ME.
To Love the Weeds
Savories of slivered scream,
remembered dream of bridges built
across illusion’s reign
the simple sparkle of clear water.
No hiss, no whispered foul shall smirch
my curtains drawn wide open
upon these weary shores
of slow drawn stretch.
May you be soon reborn to feel
the glow of autumn’s crimson paling
the slow twitch end of greening hope,
the kiss of forming statue that is inexorably ME.
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Monday, July 1, 2013
Judith and Others - the Rescue of Dogs in Need
She had 18 months of love and care.
For the first time in their lives, they experience grass!
Warning: This video is educational but also graphic.
Why would humans do this?
The Humane Society rescues a number of pit bulls. More than one has ended up becoming a service dog. The also offer education opportunities of all kinds, including the actual nature of pit bulls.
The Michael Vick Dogs - Resolution:
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