KateThoughts

Mango.

As it turned out, Mango was dead by early afternoon on that Wednesday, the day of the last post...
...and don't want to follow this thought down the reminiscing bittersweet thoughts; I've got folks coming over today!
        (... the beginning of the end of isolation...? )

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Insight inspired by a FB post...who woulda thunk it?!

"Thanks for expanding your thought. I can't quite grasp how any of those conditions would require that I relinquish my dignity. Is not the path thru the last moments of leaving this physical plane still the 'same' path, and therefore the right path (because it's mine & personal)? Oh! I just had a flash of personal insight...gotta go. But thanks. This has never happened to me online before... Thanks."

What struck me, like a flash, in the midst of writing this comment (above) on a post, is that I heard him the way I did so that I could notice that I - I have looked at old people in various distances from that 'window' and felt pity for them - which is me stripping them of dignity. In. My. Own. Heart.

And in the 'flash' I knew that those people lost nothing because I was only semi-conscious and had no spiritual maturity. Their dignity is internal, as is mine.     So I needn't fear that I may become a drooling fool and no one will love me. It won't matter whether they do or they don't, or whether ... 

Well...it was a cool flash. I won't lose it. It's a lot to grasp all at once.

        I love my life.

 

Oh, Yeah!!

I just ordered new cards and had them write on it...Omnicrone!       Wahoo!!

"What's on you mind?"

Facebook asks you that when you open your page. I started to tell 'them', but then I realized it was Facebook.  

I'm winding up my 70th year. Feeling pretty good about it. Much has changed in me and in my home since Joel died.

But, somehow, today, I've gotten caught up in the madness that so many of us exhibit these days, evidenced by the divisiveness, bigotry, and political unrest of my personal end times.
I'm scared. For the first time in years. Not that I will die. But that I'm not likely to die soon enough to avoid what looks like inevitable pain at the hands of the very people who were elected to 'take care of me'.

And I have pretty good circumstances compared to the 'average' person in this country, and certainly in the world.  I can't imagine the plight of so many who will really suffer if our collective fears are realized. And that's another cause of fear...I realize that collective energy is extremely powerful, maybe even more so because it is so often a default. And my energy at this moment is joining that one. Yikes.

And how do you say, "Oh, GOD!" when there is no evidence, no faith, and only the tiniest of wishes..  I mean, WHAT do you say? Really. The normal string of cuss words just won't cut it, and I know lots of them.

I know my work is to stay out of the fear. and the corollaries of that...

 

Getting better at it; tired today. and sad.

AZ...a little more

This trip is very little like I expected and exactly like I expected and I'm missing/running from part of the trip...maybe.

I just read the last couple of posts while I had breakfast  - scrambled eggs and cheese. I've got a toothache (getting much better) but have been eating eggs and soups and mashed potatoes for 3 days. Really tired of that menu.    :)   Happy it's been easy to find/make. Mayo always has at least one soup on the menu, and their food is very good.

What I've been running from is the opportunities for meditation that exist in my little bungalow. From the moment I leave this place in the morning I'm bombarded with noise, constantly, until I return here in the evening. The quiet is WAY more valuable to me than I ever knew. Living in a city will be a challenge...though one we may undertake when we get the house sold.

(BTW: I asked a respiration therapist about the differences between Joel's breathing here and at 7000 ft. They won't predict, of course, but she did say that there is a test that can be done as part of Joel's rehab that will simulate high altitude and give us an idea. Who knew?!

Several nights I've been getting home as late as 8:30 or 9:00. By the time I have some food, and clean something, it's already late... So I typically switch to a book...another distraction, rather than just sitting down and contemplating my navel.
It's a switch-off between total escape into a good mystery or a lighter version of spiritual reading: Esther Hicks' kids' series about Sara, or David Michie's The Art of Purring.

I had/have/could have a chance to spend time with a friend of a friend who is a psychic, animal communicator, healer, medium, and massage therapist. But I've put him off twice. First, he wants me to drive to him...and I don't fancy unnecessary driving. Just the commute home is half an hour. And, secondly, he's a he, and about 25 years younger, and all those things I just mentioned. All of which I could probably use, but none of which I really 'get' (except the massage, of course).

It seemed intriguing at first; now I'm nervous about it, uncertain, and a tad not ready. All I can really do right now is to follow my gut and let it go..and him go...

And I'm going to say, just this one time - in this blog where I think I am safe, that I'm fearful of our cash flow situation now, and for this year. We're using the savings to keep me here with Joel. While we have awesome insurance and ALL of her costs are covered by Medicare and insurance, mine are not. They are deductible next year, but are out-of-pocket right now. Also, Texas is underwater, so the cotton crops are in jeopardy. If the planting is not done by June 5th, crop insurance won't cover anything, and that seems nigh on to impossible to accomplish.
There has, maybe, been no time when meditation could be more valuable to me - and no time that it has felt harder to do. Michie's cat is telling me best... known as HHC, she is His Holiness's the Dahli Lama's  Cat... :)

And still I run. Jim's voice is in my head a lot! and I wish...
but wishing doesn't make it so. and while I am good at physically hard stuff, I'm not good at spiritually hard stuff.  Not a fun realization..

And here I go again into tears. I'm seeing now, that despite everything I THOUGHT I had learned, my self esteem still sucks BIG TIME. I can't seem to get myself high enough on my own list of priorities.
One moment I congratulate myself on noticing that, and the next, I chide myself for what seems like so much wasted time.

And how on earth did it get to be 9:30 and I still haven't showered... gotta to be me...best one I can access today.  

TTFN

 

About ready to scrap this blog...

I just read the last post I wrote...almost a year ago.

I'm here today only because I'm bored with waiting for a phone call and too eager for it to just leave the house.

I'll just ramble on a bit about where we are now, and see if the phone rings soon. If not, then I'll move to a comfy chair and a book shortly.

The house is off the market - unsold.

We got sidetracked by an incredibly soft housing market in this area. If you're looking for a place in the terrific mountains of Southern NM, this would be the time to come shopping. Every other house, cabin, and business is for sale, it seems.

We DO have to sell before we can move downhill, but there are new roadblocks up now.

We went to ABQ in January to get clearance from Joel's heart doc so that she could have the other knee replaced. We felt that the new surgery and subsequent rehab would make such a change in her comfort that other aspects of her health would improve, and that the rehab and the new knee would also have a positive impact in the (already replaced, but not comfortable) other knee.

Big surprise. NO. She can't have the knee surgery because there was a sound heard by her heart doc who felt she needed some tests and that a heart procedure would be next.

So, three trips to ABQ and a few tests done, and a couple of doc visits later, here we sit.

Joel needs a new aortic valve. She got the first one (bovine) about 9.5 years ago. And that's about the normal life-expectancy of that kind of valve. What we didn't know at the time Joel made that decision was that the surgeon was going to nick her lung during his surgery. As a result of that error, the sac around Joel's lungs filled with blood, at least twice, and one side of the lung collapsed. Frankly, I don't remember exactly ALL the details. And we had NO understanding of the complications to come from that error. Or from the subsequent procedures involved. It was gross; it seems to have been bungled from the get-go. And we did nothing useful about it.

I don't really know if there WAS anything useful to do about it - even though current thoughts of "why didn't we sue" have been in our heads frequently lately. The ONLY thing I can imagine being helpful from that sort of action, had we chosen to do it, might be some pile of cash somewhere that would allow us to get Joel down to a MUCH lower elevation where breathing is not such a chore for her. And I mean that literally. Breathing, for Joel, is hard work and is often painful. She is on oxygen tanks all the time.

Now, the condition of Joel's lungs is the exact and only reason that she is NOT a candidate for another open-heart procedure. Her lungs won't tolerate the heart/lung machine that is required for traditional open-heart surgery.
Thankfully, the great medical equipment researchers, experimenters and manufacturers have come up with TAVR - trans-aortic valve replacement - a minimally invasive procedure that allows a surgeon to put a new valve in place by running a specialized one thru the femoral artery and up into the heart chamber. You can see a non-gross animated video of the procedure here. How wonderful!
And why has that procedure not been done on my wife by now, you ask! They seemed so excited when they told us about it.
Now, we've been told that the company(s)(?) who make the hardware do not make one in the appropriate size. What?!

So, here we sit. We were to have seen the docs Monday, two days ago. I spoke to them last week to confirm the appointment and to let them know we expected to schedule a date for the procedure, only to be told about the size issue and that docs would have to confer before proceeding. I guess they are still conferring. ...
...

I called about noon today to remind them that we are waiting. And to say we'll be beginning to look for other doctors/med schools/etc./whatever... This is the return call for which I am waiting.

Limbo is not a land I enjoy. I hesitate to even go out to rake pine needles for fear of missing the call. Well, that, and a strong aversion to raking!

And when I go online to research more on the subject I find lots of stuff about the companies vying for market share, and arguing over who owns what (patents), and buying up smaller companies if they seem to be making useful strides.

The upshot of all of this for both Joel and me is that we are both looking at death differently now. For Joel, of course, it is extremely personal and immediate. She could actually die because some company decided to make a device only in the most 'popular' sizes. It's not bad, really, that she is considering that - death. She is becoming clearer on how she wants that to look and what she wants done... sorta.
And she is working well - very well - on keeping her fear balanced with some very positive expectations for life AFTER the procedure.
I look at her, and have to know that I do NOT really understand what she is feeling; and won't until/unless I have to face the same thing. I can help, certainly, and do..where I can.

And I'm learning some things about patience - I need to develop more!
And stamina - I'm thankful for my vast reserves of it on a daily basis.And compassion - not sure I have any - but more likely, I just don't understand it...
And aging in general - it takes way more energy to take care of this house, our 1/3 acre, 3 pets, and a wife who is ill than I realized. And do I have all the paperwork I need. And can I take enough notes to make the best decisions. And what do we do if the oil prices don't turn around.
(I hate to even type that, when SO many have SO little. But oil money feeds us and takes us to ABQ and we are down about 60% now.)

Gotta go...telling all this again is not presently helpful to me... I'm just not THAT bored, I guess.
TTFN

 

 

Sobbing over Unexpected Buddhas

Well, I wanted to title this "Pissshitfuckdamnandhell!" But somehow it doesn't fit exactly right.

Was on FB just now and watched this video that I've see a dozen times already.

When you watch it, listen to the words of the song. You may already know it in theory. Laura, you know it, probably viscerally.
You can listen to Tim McGraw sing it here. "Live Like You Were Dying"

It has felt inspiring several times. This time is different. This time, I'm sobbing

This time, I'm nearly 67 years old.
This time, I'm contemplating a 2nd 100 Days.
This time, I know that I am dying. No, not that way, not by someone's verdict or diagnosis; but just like we all are dying - one day at a time.
This time, I want different things.
This time, I'm indicted by her accomplishments - by those of several I see & respect...
This time, I will learn to do SOMETHING as well as this young woman trains horses.
This time, I'm working on deep core stuff that has stifled me for decades.
This time, I'll make a commitment to myself and give it the WEIGHT that I assign to my commitments to others.
This time I'll learn to quiet my mind.
This time, I'll find out where the fury comes from.  And break it's hold. And change my mind.


And when I die, I'll be spiritually/psychologically conscious and bursting with Joy & Anticipation.

So, I'm dying.
My first task, as I see it, is to define just what I want in the rest of my days.

This is the list I've written in the last week or two: qualities I want:

Happiness
Joy
Lightness
Confidence
Balance
Satisfaction
Worth
Love
Empathy

I'll get there by making and keeping promises to myself. I must change some deep-seated beliefs and dump plenty of old habit energy. I'll stop taking it easy, and start making life easy by doing those things that feed me. I'll create some new habits and believe new things. And my new practices will last the rest of this physical lifetime.

The 'things' list includes these...

Music has to be in it.

Movement has to be in it.

Tai Chi has to be in it.

I don't know what else I might need.

I do know that my computer usage has to drop by about 80%. That'll be no problem; FB will go, mostly. I'll probably be setting timers in the early parts of this transformation. : )
I DO love my computer. And Laura is in here!! 

Today is Tuesday, so it's Karaoke Day at Hacienda de LaLa. Therefore, there will be LOTS of music.

And today and in the next few days, I'll flesh out the rest of what must go and what gets pushed higher on the list of priorities. And pick some dates for this new 100 Days.

And, one day, when Jim asks again, "What is stopping you from doing those things that you KNOW are good & right for you?", I'll be able to say, "Nothing, anymore, my Friend."

Thanks for standing by...

 

The end of something ~ Dad's passing ~ 11-16-12

Last Friday was his last day. I still don't know what to say about it. Besides Joel, only Nancy knows, so far. And I'm not really sure why I'm keeping it so much to myself. Can't really be all that different from so many who lose a parent they didn't really know. Just Thanksgiving and all...no point in bumming out the natives. Mom passed at Thanksgiving, too...
Only notice I'm found so far...

Apparently, he was sick several weeks ago. I heard about in late October after he'd just had surgery and things weren't looking so good for him. They called in relatives. I didn't go. Things to do, you know: a play in Albuquerque we'd bought tickets for last February; a doctor's appointment in Texas; stuff... you know, planning for the Thanksgiving soiree.  just stuff.

And then he got better. Amazingly so. And everyone that had come in to town for him went home. And I didn't go. I thought I'd rather see him alive than dead...and how much more convenient to go in a few months when he's stronger, and winter is here, and a trip could be a get-away and not just a mad dash to a sick bed...or a funeral.

So, now the funeral is Wednesday. And I'm not going. And I don't really know how I feel about that. Bill isn't, either. We're sending flowers. Nice ones. All the folks in Florida for this occasion are people I don't know at all. Except Frankie, his wife. I would love to be able to give her a big hug. Her son is there with her, and tons of other relatives. Not that any of them can really make her feel better...
My people are here...sorta. I haven't really told anyone. My brother Bill is in Texas.

I'm just feeling sorry. Sorry he's dead and I didn't go see him. Sorry for Frankie. Sorry for myself.

So, I've put this up...for L and E, mostly. And to mark the event. And for the crying time this writing has afforded me. Hadn't done much; needed to... This is what we're sending:

Proof of Heaven...?

Being me, I have a little trouble approaching spiritual subjects in language that feels exclusive to only one religion. Heaven, for example, is not the word I'd have chosen in this title... but Dr. Eben Alexander's experience, as related in the article, matches quite well with what I believe. And it also fits quite well with what I have come to understand, and believe, about and thru the words of Esther Hicks/Abraham.

Check it out...
Heaven Is Real: A Doctor’s Experience With the Afterlife

An Important Message About Bullying

This is making the rounds of Facebook, so it is quite possible that you've seen it, already.

But it IS Very IMPORTANT, so a little repetition won't hurt - and the bullying does hurt. Help spread this around, please.

Hearts and Hockey Players

Haven't been here for awhile. Lots of stuff – and nothing going on.  thought I'd say so, so you stop wondering...if you are.

Things are blue around here. My best friend of the heart is moving to Florida in 4 days. I’ve been in her house here for 12 days, taking care of her dog and packing stuff. Practicing not thinking about it. I can do the denial part because Joel and I will be traveling to see her in mid-October. So I’ve put off the tears, mostly, except now & then…now.
And with Skype, we can still have our weekly coffee klatches. It just will be different. Oh, well…

On the 10^th, my friend, Michael Schwass died. He is/was an amazing person who took a major life-changing event and turned it into inspiration, hope, incentive, courage, and even joy for hundreds – maybe thousands – of others. You can read one of the obituaries here. But there is no real reason to do so…they don’t really give you any sense of the man.
(adding a link to the obit from the Chicago Sun-Times)

I met him through my friend Laura, who has been one of his best friends for umpteen years, and was a my business, then life coach and now a friend of the heart. My sense of Michael grew out of Laura’s writings about her relationship with Michael, and with the prep work they were both doing around his ultimate death.
You see, Michael was a quadraplegic. He lived longer than most with that condition because of his drive, his huge heart, and his determination that paraplegia would be something from which he learned and taught, not some curse that just happened. Laura explored much of that, and wrote about it as part of her own preparation for his leaving this physical plane, and also because she is so totally committed to living consciously – which, of course, includes dying consciously. This is one little thing she wrote recently about all of this:

“[I am] VERY aware of what a gift it is to only ONLY be sad.
Nothing was left unsaid or undone.
That is an extraordinary feeling and a gift I will cherish the rest of my days.”

(if you’re interested, here is a link to a post Laura wrote a few days ago; and this is a link to a whole bunch of posts about Michael and consciousness – including one called “Giggling at the Cemetery”)

So much of my present work around consciousness was nurtured by her writings and by reading about and, finally, meeting Michael.

And to all of this, I’ll say that Joel and I are looking at some possible changes of the ‘big’ sort. While we are in Florida, we will explore the possibilities of moving there or acquiring a ‘vacation’ home of some sort. Maybe just something we can rent frequently or … I have no idea what we will see, decide, think… much of this bumps up against some of my ‘issues’ if you will. J It’s funny, really, and more stressful than I imagined.

Joel is about to be 70. We’re going to the beach for her birthday.

And I am claiming our former guest room as my sanctuary. In the midst of rearranging, decluttering, and deciding how to turn this tiny space into a cloister.

Life’s a ride, isn’t it?!
…speaking of which, this last weekend has been a motorcycle festival – the noise was phenomenal!

So, blog friends, I am both here and absent. And way behind on most of your writings, too. I’ll catch up one day.

Blessings to you all from a very full heart.

The Lady and the Reaper

This one cracks me up on SO many levels!

Enjoy

Thanks for sharing, Ronni.

The Ongoing Saga of the Battle Between Ego & Spirit

There may be more rambling than saga here, but... it's a blog after all - not a thesis.
(I looked thesis up, and it is that, actually: 3. A hypothetical proposition, especially one put forth without proof.)   :)

As some of you may know, raising my consciousness/awareness is a value I hold. It's one that often conflicts with other things going on in my (moderately compulsive) brain.

Increasing my awareness about the food I consume is one of the ways I advance this ideal of mine. Lately, that has been fueled by Michael Pollan and his books. And also by the film Food, Inc. and stuff I'm reading around the web, such as articles by my friend Laura. Moving my body a bit is another way. This manifests as continuing lessons in T'ai Chi but has not yet presented as a regular daily practice.

So, what's the battle?

Well, I was watching a trainer speaking to a group of women the other day (TV). He was teaching them this mantra: "Exercise is not negotiable," and suggesting (strongly) some very drastic (to me) changes in their eating habits. He seemed to want them to believe that they truly had NO choice. Basically, his message was exercise and eat right or DIE. And his absolute, in the 'not negotiable' sentence raised all my hackles and fired up my ego and compelled me to yell at the screen: "Oh, yeah! Of course, it is negotiable, you idiot."
I can choose dying.

And there is the dilemma.

I think that it may be a responsibility of mine to get off this planet as soon as the trip takes me to that point. It's not about suicide; it's about too many people. It's not about me; it's about the planet. It's not about health, per se, it's about consequences.

It's balancing my food addiction and my real love of all things food, with my increasing spirituality and consciousness. I suspect that it's mostly denial, as in that river in which so many of us are floundering.

My addiction is quite active. If I am not eating (or maybe while I'm eating), I'm planning the next food opportunity: recipe search, shopping, prepping, cooking, serving, and back to eating again. I love cooking for other people. And while all my choices for guests consider their own food issues or goals or tastes, I'm drawn, still, to all those old comfort-foods that continue to work for me.
(What fun I am already having preparing the Super Bowl Party food! I could care less about the game.)

So, I have a long way to go here.

I'm sure I will continue to evolve. I think I could not really stop evolving, even if I tried. And I'm fairly sure that spirit/god understands the 'thing' I have with food even though I clearly do not, as  yet.

Balance is the only way I can think of these matters at the moment. And I don't pretend for a moment that I am actually IN balance. (Work-in-progress...hold that thought.)

Some of what feeds the confusion or inability (or unwillingness) to move in one direction or the other is what I see when I look around me at stuff on TV; at some of the people I know; at national and world politics; at the way we teach each other and our kids to value score-keeping over consciousness.

Gotta go play with someone else's computer... I'll be back to this.

Aging Well ~ the Quest

Somehow this morning (cosmically led, perhaps?), I came upon this old post of Ronni Bennett's from several years ago. Her post is about May-December romances. Mine is other...

I was struck by this excerpt:

"Carolyn Heilbrun, in her book, Writing a Woman’s Life, acknowledges the well-known invisibility that envelops most women at middle age, but she goes on in a manner I find encouraging:

“We will move invisibly for a time, to relearn seeing and to forget being seen. As we grow slowly visible, we will be heard more and seen less. Our voices will ramify, our bodies will become a house for our new spirit.”.

And there are younger men who find that spirit more attractive than mere youth.

I'm particularly struck by the phrase, "to relearn seeing and to forget being seen". I have spent so much of my life aware of, concerned about, and afraid of what others think of me that, at times, I've been almost paralyzed. (Wonderful to have moved from that place!)

"To relearn seeing"    
When I was living that fear, what was I seeing? What do I need to relearn? I think it is not so much a re-learning process as it is a new learning process. I thought I was seeing - looking at - but, I was really only seeing myself, and so concerned with 'what' people saw when they looked at me that I could give no thought at all for the 'who' they might have seen. And the 'who' - the real me - was invisible, largely because I was so outwardly focused.

As I'm aging, (thank you, god) the rest of that quote is becoming true. Again, Thank God.
I am becoming more visible - to myself - than I have ever been. I'm more clear on the 'who' that I am, more brave, and my body is becoming the "house for my spirit".

I had to look up ramified, and I find that that is true for me, too. I am more complex; and my spirit, my interests, indeed, my own voice are multifaceted and much more powerful.

"To forget being seen"
In some ways, this seemed easier for me for many years. What that ease turned out to be was, at first, just an amazing ability to avoid mirrors. It started with cameras and other people's photos of me. I just got tired of that coy, "oh, no, my hair looks terrible" type of BS and came to realize that I would never have to look at them; could forget that they existed. What a relief it was to say, 'Sure, go ahead". and just smile.  

Now, I can consider the thought that I am truly blind if I am too much concerned with 'being seen'. I don't really see other people, or the truth of a situation if I am concerned with how I look or what others think.

Now, I know that looking in is for my meditation or prayer. I can forget that anyone is looking. My years and my path have brought a perspective that we only gain by growing older. With a bit of open-mindedness I might even be(come) wise. As for being seen; the only opinion that really matters is my own. I'm concerned with how closely I stand by my values. When I remember these things, I am in great shape: happy, content, integrous.

"Heard more, seen less"
I can't say that I am seen less. What do I know of what another really sees? I do know that I care less. And this blog attests to the fact that I have stuff to say. Do you hear me?   :)
Guess what...even that matters less to me, and ultimately matters not at all.

It seems a bit curious to me.
As I age, I seem to look inward much more in some respects (usually related to self-knowledge), and to become more self-centered. I think it is in some relationship to my interest in dying well. I'll continue that exploration the rest of my life, I suppose. And I can see that I also see others much better, or with thinner blinders. Perspective again, I'm sure.

As Bette says, "From a distance..."

PBS's FrontLine: exploring "Living Old"

This link is a great jumping off place for articles, stories, videos and even a video stream of the complete show. The cut line of this home page says,

"A powerful and intimate journey into the uncharted territory of Americans living longer than ever -- and what it means for them, their loved ones and our society."

Worth some time, I think.

So live your life that the fear of death can never enter your heart.

So live your life that the fear of death can never enter your heart.
Trouble no one about their religion; respect others in their view,
and demand that they respect yours.
Love your life, perfect your life, beautify all things in your life.
Seek to make your life long and its purpose in the service of your people.
Prepare a noble death song for the day when you go over the great divide.
Always give a word or a sign of salute when meeting or passing a friend,
even a stranger, when in a lonely place.
Show respect to all people and grovel to none.
When you arise in the morning give thanks for the food and for the joy of living.
If you see no reason for giving thanks, the fault lies only in yourself.
Abuse no one and no thing, for abuse turns the wise ones to fools
and robs the spirit of its vision.
When it comes your time to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled
with the fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep
and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way.
Sing your death song and die like a hero going home.

Chief Tecumseh (Crouching Tiger) Shawnee Nation 1768-1813

Thanks, Nancy   ; >D