"I am playing with myself,
I am playing with the world's soul,
I am the dialogue between myself and el espiritu del mundo.
I change myself, I change the world."

Gloria AnzaldĂșa

19 November, 2014

all goes onward and outward, nothing collapses

my dear departed Alice and Dinah--the old guard

Tomorrow will be a week since Alice died. It sometimes surprises me how deeply I feel the loss. It's probably because she was my last old girl--the last dog who knew my mother. But whatever the reason, it is a loss I sometimes experience as a pain in the chest. I first experienced that after Mom died. My therapist at the time said, "Why do you think they call it a broken heart?" And so I will grieve. As long as it takes.

But I know this. There is no death. There is no end to the energy and the love that was my mother, or Dinah, or Alice.

A child said, What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands;
How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is, any more than he.
  
I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven.
  
Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord,
A scented gift and remembrancer, designedly dropt,  95
Bearing the owner’s name someway in the corners, that we may see and remark, and say, Whose?
  
Or I guess the grass is itself a child, the produced babe of the vegetation.
  
Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic;
And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow zones,
Growing among black folks as among white; 100
Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the same, I receive them the same.
  
And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves.
  
Tenderly will I use you, curling grass;
It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men;
It may be if I had known them I would have loved them; 105
It may be you are from old people, and from women, and from offspring taken soon out of their mothers’ laps;
And here you are the mothers’ laps.
  
This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old mothers;
Darker than the colorless beards of old men;
Dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths. 110
  
O I perceive after all so many uttering tongues!
And I perceive they do not come from the roofs of mouths for nothing.
  
I wish I could translate the hints about the dead young men and women,
And the hints about old men and mothers, and the offspring taken soon out of their laps.
  
What do you think has become of the young and old men? 115
And what do you think has become of the women and children?
  
They are alive and well somewhere;
The smallest sprout shows there is really no death;
And if ever there was, it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it,
And ceas’d the moment life appear’d. 120
  
All goes onward and outward—nothing collapses;
And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.

"And to die is different from what any one supposed. . ."

It is odd that the more we learn about life--about the universe--about physics--the truer Whitman's words are. I have always known this to be the Truth--with a capital T-- the metaphorical truth-- the spiritual truth. But now we know that the universe continues to expand, that energy never dies, it only changes form. Science, spirituality, and poetry are not mutually exclusive. Thank you, Universe. 

10 November, 2014

walking toward health

juggling  is hard

I know I've recently alluded to health issues on this blog, and I've definitely whined about them on Facebook; now I will whine more specifically. I'm working on becoming healthy. And it's not working as well as I want it to. 

Recently, I discovered that the medicine I was taking for diabetes was making me sick. So we tried something new. Then added something else. Then increased the something else.  I've also been walking every day that it is not raining (so I missed two days) and eating much better. And? It's not working. So I imagine, though I do not know this for sure, that the next step is insulin. I will see the doctor Thursday. 
I am not thrilled about this. In some ways it feels like a failure. But a friend of mine who has two Type I children assures me that I will actually feel much better after my blood sugar stabilizes. And what the heck. 

The good part of all of this is the daily walk with my dog(s). That's been great. I think we are all feeling better emotionally because of the walks. And I've lost 8 pounds. That can't hurt. 

So I am writing about this mostly because of the struggle it is for me to work on my diet. I am proud of the steps I've taken, but I am also aware that I am often on the brink of saying "eff it" and eating a pound of chocolate. And, I haven't been too successful with these lifestyle changes. A month, two months, and then regression. So I am talking and thinking about this obsessively. 

So, if you have positive energy, send it my way. If you have success stories about lifestyle changes or diabetes, share them! 

I know I can do this. I am a former smoker with 15 years of non smoking. I am a recovering alcoholic with 4 years and 10 months of sobriety. I can do this. But I also know I need help. I cannot do it alone. So I guess I'm going to talk about it--and write about it. I will try to do so in moderation, though. 

Thanks for reading!