profound

fertile soil in hand

baby’s head crowning at birth

unanswered questions

fatigue

exhaustion, getting

lost; giving up on the world.

sun will rise and set

Sweet Sunday

Woke bright and early with a welcome jump in my step.  Until today my post radiation fatigue had debilitated me.  Loved drinking my morning latte as I walked the yard admiring our gardens both edibles and the spectacular flowers.

I picked 6 more yellow squash off the vines we have nursed all summer.  Hard to believe they are still producing.  I checked the cukes and okra, but everything present and accounted for was still in the formation stage.  I will go back out later in the day.

Just another day in the life of Sarla Nichols.  Fed and walked the dog.  Picked up her poop.  Meditated for 30 minutes.  Every time I sit now I recall the 6 night, 5 day silent sesshin I just completed last week at the Upaya Zen Center outside Santa Fé.  No talking, reading, or writing.  No electronics thus no Facebook, email, texting, twitter, and so forth.  You get the picture.  I loved it.  I craved the silence.   Even after almost 10 hours a day on the cushion (sitting was interspersed with walking meditation, a work period spent cleaning the kitchen while my roomie scrubbed the bathrooms, one dharma talk per day, the choice of a silent walk or yoga for 45 minutes and a short rest period in the afternoon) I wanted to sit more.  On the last day, I sat for the optional period from 6:00 – 7:00 am and have sat almost every day since my return on July 24.

After sitting I went on a 17 mile bike ride.  When it got hard, when I got tired, I imagined that I was meditating.  I always have moments of urgency right at the end of any 25 to 30 minute meditation.  My mind starts to rebel and demands that I get up immediately.  So as I rode, just as when I sit, I reminded myself to settle in and breathe.   Stay steady.  There is so much joy in completing a challenging bike ride, in sitting for extended periods, in exploring this new frontier in my life, the frontier of the steady mind, where joy outweighs suffering and stillness is more valuable than money.

Went with my neighbors, David and Mark to both Home Depot and Lowe’s searching for any last-minute beauties to plant in our yards.  I bought a pool side lounge chair at Lowe’s to replace the one we had to throw away.  The seat rotted out.  We stopped at Cheffie’s a little sandwich and salad place around the corner from our street and had lunch.  Fun and out of the box.  Me eating lunch out for the second time this week.  We, Jimmy and I, always eat at home, but he is in Canada.  Miss him.  As much as I enjoy peace and quite, I like sharing it with another person.

All in all good weekend.  Amelia spent the night on Friday night.  We had what she calls, “A girl’s night Gigi.  We having a girl’s night, Gigi?”

“Yes, Amelia, we are having a girls’ night,” which included swimming.  I should say skinny dipping.  I guess I am a bad influence.  I have taught my grand-daughter to skinny dip.   She will never want to swim with a suit again.  She said, “Gigi, your butt in the water.”  And I said, “No, Amelia, your butt in the water.”  And so it went back and forth.  What a blast.  I laughed out loud.  We ate a chicken salad in front of the TV watching The animated Robin Hood for the second time.  Can’t say that it is one of my favorites, but she loves it.  A little bite of ice cream and 3 story books later we are in bed for the night.  Not asleep, mind you, but in bed.

1:14 pm.   Already.  Good to sit down and write, just put some words on paper.  I am more than a little nervous about the Dani Shapiro writing workshop that Cyndi Lee and I will be attending in just two short weeks.  Hope I am ready to receive criticism.  I ask myself every day, Am I a writer or did I spend all that time writing about my past as a way to heal?  Do I have a story or stories in me that would benefit the world, would be written for the greater good?  do I want to spend hours in front of the computer, alone, writing?  Time will tell.  Time will tell.

for a time

i played outside in

the mud, climbing trees.  i went to

school, for a time, lost myself

in love, work, in the

past becoming the future

found love I lost and

then to last and for a time,

was happy as wife, lover,

mother, teacher, friend.

for a time, as grandmother,

each Monday i gave

to Amelia, who now three,

will go to school full

time for a time before she

too will seek to make

her past the future for a time.

 

for the time being

my name is cassie.

i am a doll.  i was pretty

once, for the time being

i live in a box

in the attic of my friend,

amelia, who, for

a time loved me.  we, lambie,

mr monkey, beet,

the blanket, we stayed close to

amelia, in her

bed, on the couch, in the car,

we even spent the

night in gigi’s big bed at

her house. time passed

amelia, a time being,

grew up. so for the

time being we, all of us

live in a box in

the attic, for the time being.

 

 

#invokingdrala Day 1

Ameliabedelia

here beside me.  artist, friend,

brighter than the sun.

 

cooking with my angel

chopping corn, stirring

chocolate syrup for ice

cream. cook in training

 

who am i

i am not you or

him or her.  we are one, but

i am free to be me

 

May 22- One Year One Day at a Time – Content

Damn.  Where do I start?  How do I write about contentment.  I only know how to write skilfully about depression, anxiety, sadness and the like so I have a problem.  I do not feel depressed, anxious, sad, etc. Is it worth writing if the subject of one’s writing is “another good day?  I was taught that dram and turmoil at the great subjects of true literature.  Anna Karenina, War and Peace, Reservoir Dogs, Catcher in the Rye, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.  More recently Doubt, Grace, Angels in America.  

I have nothing related to pathos about which I am compelled to write.  So I write Haiku. It’s okay, but it lacks the depth I long for.  Perhaps I am hovering over something I am afraid to see, afraid to look to face.  I don’t think so.  I am content.  I feel whole.  I am healthy.  I am happy.  I like the work I do and I believe I am very good at it.  I love my husband and am grateful for my children, their success and their well-being.  I do not feel deprived or helpless or down trodden.  I no longer feel like a  victim of my god awful childhood.  I have no fear about the future.  I have a comfortable life filled with meaningful work and good friends, new friends.  Today I have friendships I value, people with whom I want to spend time.  My friends are no longer just my drinking buddies.  I have girlfriends with whom I share a deep connection and with whom I have never had a drink.  That’s different.  Not even something I went looking for.  They came into my life.  I liked them so we spend time with one another.

I sit here now at 8:00 pm in my bed with my stuffed animals, Fruffy the dog.  That is what Amelia calls him.  And the green Monkey also known as Papa Monkey.  Jimmy, my husband, said this morning that he no longer knew with whom he was sleeping, me or Amelia.  He was referring to a bed full of stuffed toys.  I hold them, at night, next to my breast.  They are for me, the childhood I never had and my connect to the granddaughter whom I love.   They are joy.  She is joy.  I am joyful.

Tomorrow we leave for DC and from there to Little Washington, Virginia for  our friend, Steve’s 60th birthday, a blue grass festival on the lawn of his gentleman farmer’s estate.  I will definitely be posting pictures.

This is contentment.

rainy saturday afternoon – One Year, One day at a time – May 17

It is a lazy day.  Maybe I should say, feels lazy but I have been anything but.  I am working on multiple projects at once.

We returned yesterday from a week at the beach with the kids and  the grand baby.  Mmmm.  Funny to think about spending time with adult children going to the same beach we have been visiting every year since they were infants.  Here we are 33 years, later still making  the 9 hour trek from Memphis to Santa Rosa Beach, Seaside to be specific. . . sandy white beaches, navy blue chairs with an umbrella, beach towels, coolers, sand toys, sun glasses, snacks and reading material.  Bring all the same things year after year.  Watching my children grow into maturity, marry, find meaningful employment, have babies and settle down.

All the while marking my aging.  Going from a young woman of 30 to a grandmother of 63.  The visage of the woman I was has evolved into the elder statesman that I am. . . gray headed, wrinkled but youthful, with a little less energy and a lot more wisdom.  I knew when to keep my mouth shut, when to recede from my daughter’s affairs and not to interfere in those of my son and his partner.  All in all the vacation went well.  There were a few temper tantrums.  Poor Katie and Greg carrying  the howling Amelia from the beach back to the house.  What child would not be undone after a full day in the sun and the demands of a pre-dinner photo-op on the too sunny beach?  We all survived and managed to have a delicious last meal together.

Here are a few of the, what I call, Amelia-isms from the trip.

“I wait in line.”  Now that she is potty trained, every trip to the bathroom requires a line with her always going second so she can wait while I go first.

“Tank you.”   (Her way of showing gratitude)

“Pwease,”  said repeatedly when she wanted something she was not getting

“I sit in Gi Gi’s lap.”  We rented a golf cart and everywhere we went she wanted to sit either in my lap or Travis’.  preferably Travis but when he left on Tuesday I became the best seat in the house.

“Best day”  needs no explanation

“Last day”  means yesterday or any preceding day

“You feel better GiGi?”  I sprained my ankle the night before we left.  Every morning the smiling Amelia asked this question followed by

“You go swimming?”

“Sit with me”

“Beesh” for beach

“Tookie” for cookie

There are hundreds but only these few come to mind now.  I would ask Jimmy for more, but he is napping.  It has been raining most of the day and, as I mentioned earlier, we have had a busy day.  We shopped for items we need to take with us when we raft the Grand Canyon in 2 and 1/2 weeks.   I started making what I call a “to go” pile in our spare bedroom. . .  head lamp, Keenes, quick dry pants, tops, capris, and shorts, spare prescription glasses,  swim suits, rain jacket, head band, ankle socks, and more to come.

We  also made a run to Whole Foods.  Jimmy is playing poker tonight so I am planning a girl’s night in.  Me and me and the shows I recorded while we were gone.  Chicago PD and Fire,  Blue Bloods, Law and Order SVU, The Blacklist and The Good Wife.  Whew, that is a lot.  I better get started soon.

I am also reorganizing my closets, separating summer and winter clothes, moving items from closet to closet, weeding out, and pruning back at the same time.  I have so much shit.  Really, I do not wear half the stuff I have because my “stuff” is so spread out that I do not know what I have.  Why do we think we need so much?  How in the world did I accumulate so much “stuff?”  Just last week I took a trunk full of “stuff” to Catholic Charities.  And there is still more stuff.

I am half way through unpacking my suitcase.   Side tracked by my closet, I left a pile of my suitcase “stuff” in the middle of the bedroom floor.  Jimmy is asleep and I did not want to disturb him.

Bought a roasted chicken for my girl’s night in.  I plan to have it with sautéed chard harvested today from our garden, all accompanied by a nice glass of white wine.

Oh, almost forgot, I also made dal, ordered contacts, wrote several haikus, took a bath, read the newspaper, and wrote this entry.