Prayer of my Heart

"My Lord God,
I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road in front of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following you will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road , though I may know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust you always thoughI may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone."

                                                                                       -thomas merton

Canine Love

For I Will Consider My Dog Percy


For I will consider my dog Percy.

For he was made small but brave of heart.

For if he met another dog he would kiss her in kindness.

For when he slept he snored only a little.

For he could be silly and noble in the same moment.

For when he spoke he remembered the trumpet and when he scratched he struck the floor like a drum.

For he ate only the finest food and drank only the purest of water, yet he would nibble of the dead fish also.

For he came to me impaired and therefore certain of short life, yet throughly rejoiced in each day.

For he took his medicines without arguement.

For he played easily with the neighbor's Bull Mastiff.

For when he came upon mud he splashed through it.

For he was an instrument for the children to learn benevolence upon.

For he listened to poems as well as love-talk.

For when he sniffed it was as if he were being pleased by every part of the world.

For when he sickened he rallied as many times as he could.

For he was a mixture of gravity and waggery.

For we humans can seek self-destruction in ways he never dreamed of.

For he took actions both cunning and reckless, yet refused always to offer himself to be admonished.

For his sadness though without words was understandable.

For there was nothing sweeter than his peace when at rest.

For there was nothing brisker than his life when in motion.

For he was of the tribe of Wolf.

For when I went away he would watch for me at the window.

For her loved me.

For he suffered when I found him, and never forgot it.

For he loved Anne.

For when he lay down to enter sleep he did not argue about whether or not God made him.

For he could fling himself upside down and laugh a true laugh.

For he loved his friend Ricky.

For he would dig holes in teh sand and then let Ricky lie in them.

For I often see his shape in the clouds and this is a continual blessing.
                               
                                                                            -mary oliver


(after Christopher Smart's poem "For I Will Consider My Cat Jeoffry")

The Bracelet Club

I wear blue for my friend, Danny who is kicking the crap out of cancer.

Thanking the Butterfly

Last week at my manager conference last week I heard about the butterfly effect from Andy Andrews*. This week I got to live it.

The butterfly effect was a scientific paper first published to professional scorn in 1963 by Edward Lorenz. That paper claimed that a small change at one place in a nonlinear system can result in large differences to a latter state. Or, as it was more flashily dubbed, "Does the flap of a butterfly's wings in Brazil set off a tornado in Texas?" The answer, as proved by physicists much later, is a resounding yes. The butterfly effect is now a law, the law of sensitive dependence on initial conditions. Or, when it comes to the mysterious science of human relations, because of our interconnectedness everything you do makes a difference.

Everything you do makes a difference.

The point was slammed home to me by meeting my sweetie's sponsor for the first time. Since the fella's people are sparse and widely scattered this was closest I'd yet come to meeting family. He was a delight, a 10 of the nicest people I know, super upbeat type and we had a rollicking good time full of all sorts of special treats but if we'd have met for 5 minutes at the Wash-o-rama the effect would have been the same.

I know for a fact that I would not have the best thing in my life without this person being there first. Because of his one yes years ago (non recovery me imagines a sponsor to be part lighthouse, part safety net, part angel on your shoulder) and all the resulting kindnesses my life was changed forever and for the best. So that's what I said, clumsily and through tears. It's not often that things align so neatly to give you an opportunity to express what you ought and I'm so grateful to have gotten that chance.

So thank you Edward Lorenz and thank you sponsor.




*Do yourself a favor and go to YouTube and watch Andy Andrews butterfly effect talk. It will make the world smaller in the best possible way.

Captured. Again.

There are pictures with the kids.

Pictures where he's acting like a kid.

Adult humor pictures.

And not so adult humor pictures.

There's a lot of those. Sleeping pictures.

And lots of still lifes of co-mingled stuff that stand for so much more.

After two years there are (literally) hundreds of pictures. And there's been lots of comments lately about all the crazy/nutty/funny/ and downright exhaustive number of pictures that I take of him. Some time ago he recalled my previous post about pictures of him ("Captured") wrong. That one was from my perspective about why I needed to take so many pictures and he remembered it saying I don't know why he likes a lot of pictures but that's not what it said at all.

I know very well why he likes a lot of pictures. Besides the fact he's a ham with a side of ham, huge chunks of his past are lost, gone forever. Between the head injuries, drug abuse, imprisonment and more moves than the US Army, it-both the memories and nearly all tangible reminders-is all gone.

I can't restore those pieces, no one can, but I can capture the now, the tiny bit of his life that is shared with me. No matter how silly or prosaic-this week it was the first pepper we picked from the garden and a ridiculous one of him in a cowboy hat & boxer shorts-my camera is ever ready. It pins my social butterfly down and captures him, if only for an instant, in the life he has now. I can't bring back all he lost but today, today will be preserved.

I Haven't Swam Enough This Summer

(photographer unknown)

Amen Brother Neil!

Be proud of your mistakes. Well, proud may not be exactly the right word, but respect them, treasure them, be kind to them, learn from them. And, more than that, and more important than that, make them. Make mistakes. Make great mistakes, make wonderful mistakes, make glorious mistakes. Better to make a hundred mistakes than to stare at a blank piece of paper too scared to do anything wrong..
Neil Gaiman

The only think I would add to this is that it applies to more than just writing. Too much in this world is left untried for fear of making a mistake.

One Hundred Names for Love

What would you do if the thing that attracted you first to your beloved was suddenly, perhaps irrevocably, taken away? What if the mind that had captured you, wholly and completely, was gone and all that was left of your clever author husband was an invalid who could only say "mem, mem, mem"?


Think about it.


That was the decision that faced author Diane Ackerman when her husband of 40 years, David, was felled by a stroke. Her memoir One Hundred Names for Love tells what she did when, in an instant, she went from wife and partner to caregiver, translator and sole decision maker. How she coped and found the key to unlock the words still trapped in David's mind makes for a lyrically moving, mature, love story.

Of course, it's beautifully written, it's Diane Ackerman, who has written as many books of poetry as science but what makes this her best is the personal mapping the cartography of loss:


"When asked about the secret to our decades long duet, I sometimes teased we stayed together for the sake of the children-each was the other's child. And we were both wordsmiths, cuddle-mad and extremely playful. But who can say why two people become a couple, that small principality of mutual protection and regard? Couples are jigsaw puzzles that hang together by touching in just enough points. They're never total fits or misfits. In time, a pair invents its own commonwealth, complete with anthems, rituals and lingos-a cult of two with fallible gods."

and her description of caregiving (I'm only a minor league caregiver but I think her description spot on):



"It was also arduous for me not to feel impatient and resentful at times in the role of teacher, attendant, nurse:caregiver. That word should weigh more that the others on the page, sag it down a bit and wrinkle it, because the simple sounding job frazzles as it consumes and depletes. Not that it's only gloomy. Caregiving offers many fringe benefits including the sheer delight of nourishing and grooming, sharing and playing. There's something uniquely fulfilling about being a lodestar, feeling so deeply needed and it's fun finding creative ways to gladden a loved one's life but caregiving does buttonhole you; you're stitched in one place."

Happily, through tireless work, David regained his speech, mostly, and has published several articles and books since the stroke but even if he hadn't One Hundred Names for Love would still be inspiring.

(Also notice and appreciate the cover of this one-there really are 100 names.)

Well Said, Katie West

"So if you want to talk to women like they’re sub-human, ejaculate catch-alls, this may not be the place for you. I’m just not really into that. Unless I ask for it. So just remember, a woman prancing around in her underwear is not asking for you to send her a picture of your penis, nor is she hoping for you to touch her. But she made you want her?! That’s okay, it still doesn’t mean you can take her. You can just do what I do when I watch Rihanna videos: appreciate how ridiculously sexy she is, maybe (probably) get off, buy her album in appreciation of her awesomeness, hope she continues making art. FOREVER. Okay, you don’t have to do all that, that’s just what I do. EDIT: I’m not saying it’s bad to compliment women! You should totally keep doing that all day every day! I’m saying when you start to move your body on top of a woman’s (or anyone’s) without her permission, whether verbally, virtually, or physically, you’re a dick and you need to sort that out.
Also, can we just let each other be sexy as fuck? Can we just let ourselves do that? You can still be intelligent AND naked. You can still be full of soul AND naked. You can still be responsible, accountable, respectable AND naked. We don’t have to separate our sexual bodies from our brains and our hearts in order to be considered GOOD. Don’t demand that of people, don’t demand it of yourselves. Because it’s bullshit."

If you've not expereinced the Internet wonder that is Katie West check her out. But be prepared to spend some time-you're gonna be there a while.