The story of stuff - a beginning

 Starting a new project.  This is the beginning.  23 and me said I might have old age Alzheimer.  So in case I forget, here it is before I do.  

There is a lot of stuff around this house.  I remember that one of my mother’s greatest frustrations as she was leaving us, was trying to tell me the stories of all her stuff.  The same thing happened with Isabella when one day she had to leave her home.  So I am telling the story of stuff here. There will still be many things that you will wonder “what the hell” about.   The stuff has no value except in its story.  The stories I am not telling are the ones you get make up if you decide to keep whatever it is.

When I was in junior high and high school, I liked to look good and that meant wearing fingernail polish and lipstick. When I was thirteen, it all began with just a bit of light lip gloss.  That is what I was permitted.  In high school, I had a spice rack on the wall with all my bottles of polish and colors of lipstick.  I found this cute little poodle to hold one bottle that it is still holding.  Price for the bottle about 25 cents.  Cathy would sneak into my room and get into my make up which drove me crazy.  I found this at grandma’s house and decided to put it in my downstairs medicine cabinet.

This is an eye glass that grandma used whenever we got something in our eye.  She would put water in the cup, hold it up to our eye and then tell us to blink.  It was torture. I was one of those kids who hated getting my hair washed in the bathtub because I did not want water in my eyes. And later I hated opening my eyes underwater when I was learning to swim.   Perhaps there was a connection. 

In the margins

 Writing found in the margins of some books 

The Selected Poems of Li Po

But you drew conclusions

it is all a dream

that each of us can appreciate

from our own perspectives

Du Fu A Life in Poetry

Waiting in a coffee shop

Mother’s Day

are our lives

colliding or coinciding

sometimes it is hard to tell

the coffee is warm and good

Du Fu awaits

perhaps I should enjoy the calm

before the storm

Thank you, Mark,

for sharing an ancient incarnation

of Mary Oliver

Climbing down from mountains and memories

Such contradictions

joy of family and children versus

living as a hermit

does this say anything about the value of women

alice walker

over-

coming

speech-

lessness

All a sad reminder of how we perpetuate through our ignorance

I learned that Alice also cried for the world in a ritual, a ceremony of healing, to show that we are connected to those we love and to the beautiful flowers, grass, stones…

“Whatever has happened to humanity, whatever is currently happening to humanity, it is happening to all of us.”

New Cathay

Contemporary Chinese Poetry

Edited by Ming Di

A dichotomy

alone in a strange city

walking the streets

to a restaurant

passing locked  cars

waiting for someone to

descend a workplace elevator or

staircase and 

emerge.

Connected because we are

the awakening yellow leaves

the flowing river

the red hat sunset

reflected on the steel gray clouds overhead.

Not connected because

I know no one

we each do not know the other

where am I.

Goldie

     Yesterday I finished building an extra fenced space for the chickens and this morning I let them out to use the space. I gave them warnings about the bees and the bees warnings about them. They were so happy to get grass. I sat with them for a while and then decided it was time to have lunch. When I finished eating I thought I would walk over and check on them again.  As soon as I opened the door,  I heard horrible shrill squawks. And then I saw the hawk who had Goldie down. I raced to the chicken yard, shouting, waving my arms to make him give up his prey, but it was too late. The hawk had done too much damage for me to save her. I held her and stoked her head while she died. And now I have six chickens. I hate losing chickens. Below is a video of my girls last Christmas. 

For Carrie

 On this day

holding you for the first time

our eyes met 

touching each other’s hearts

becoming family 

Forever and always  

I love you.

For Lily

Happy Birthday to my dear Lily.  A quarter of a century.  I am so proud of you - your passion and willingness to stand up for what you know is right, the kindness you show when you help promote the dreams of others, and the love you share so genuinely and freely. I am thankful everyday that I am your mother.  I love you dearly.

 

Introductions

 

 

Introductions
In retirement
living life slowly
on a family farm
I fight honeysuckle
talk to my chickens and bees 
stand in wonder under the majesty of trees
appreciate that my gardens can nourish
and am warmed by the sun 

living alone

sewing, reading, reflecting, and writing

grateful to be joining this community

may we be surrounded by love and kindness

and find a way to live in peace

Muses

 Muses

From Joan Walsh Anglund

In A Slice of Snow

On

    the thin line

                      between dawn

                                             and darkness,

Sunrise

           writes

                      her

                            poem. 

***********************************************

Me looking out my window in the morning…..

Cedar tree,

               dancing in the wind,

                                             what song do you hear?

Mu from the Zen tradition

 Mu, no, nothingness….

A monk asked Master Chao-chou, "Has a dog the Buddha Nature or not?" Chao-chou said, "Mu!"

From The Heart Sutra:

Avalokiteshvara while practicing deeply with

the insight that Bring Us to the Other Shore,

suddenly discovered that

all of the five Skandhas are equally empty,

and with that realization

she overcame all ill-being. 

It is in the binary.  Has a dog buddha nature or not.  No to the not and no to the has.  All is empty.  All is full.  Interbeing.  I am the dog and the dog is me. We inter-are.  Both empty and both full.  The same is true of the Buddha.   I am the Buddha and the Buddha is me.  The dog is the Buddha and the Buddha is the dog.  Both empty and both full.  Empty of self and full of being.

Gate, Gate, Paragate, Parasamgate, Bodhi Svaha!

Gate, Gate, Paragate, Parasamgate, Bodhi Svaha!

Gate, Gate, Paragate, Parasamgate, Bodhi Svaha!