This Morning

My friend Pam gave me a book of Mary Oliver poetry called Devotions, and now that I’m done with Regina’s book, I’ve started reading one of Mary’s every morning.

The poem today made an impact:

This Morning

This morning the redbirds’ eggs
have hatched and already the chicks
are chirping for food. They don’t
know where it’s coming from, they
just keep shouting, “More! More!”
As to anything else, they haven’t
had a single thought. Their eyes
haven’t yet opened, they know nothing
about the sky that’s waiting. Or
the thousands, the millions of trees.
They don’t even know they have wings.

And just like that, like a simple
neighborhood event, a miracle is
taking place.

As I wrote in my journal, I kept going back to the line:

They don’t even know they have wings.

I feel there is a personal meaning for me in that line. Where are the wings I don’t know I have?

Admittedly, I was nervous about January coming. I felt that it meant getting into the fray again.

But Thursday was a peaceful day. There were things to figure out, and I did. I stayed calm, enjoyed everything I did, used my resources, asked questions, asked for help. Yes, all the things I reminded my student to do over the years.

I woke today feeling great. Ready. Strong. My eyes were open. I can allow miracles.

And on the way to an appointment, an eagle flew over Summerlin Road right in front of me, and on into Lakes Park, prey hanging from his talons. It is the second eagle I’ve seen in a month. It reminds me that Spirit is with me always. This morning. This afternoon. While I take out the garbage. While I cook dinner. While I sleep.

A new year is upon us. We all have wings. May they lift us high over the next 12 months.

Rest Easy

When I received the touchstone with some of Jim’s ashes in it, I was also given a vial of leftover ashes in case I wanted more things made. Instead, I wanted to to figure out a place to sprinkle those ashes. I decided on Bunche Beach.

It is tradition for me to walk Bunche on Christmas. I’ve done it for years. Last year, I felt strongly it was our last Christmas together, and I asked Jim to join me, even though he was too ill to walk. At the time he was just starting to show signs of what was to come.

This year has been one of turmoil and health issues, and I really am not sure if I’ve been there since last Christmas. There were a lot of changes. I was greeted by this message:

I knew where I wanted to send the ashes, and so made a short walk down the beach. There were more people there than usual—some years I have been the only one there. I wanted to have private space for what I was going to do, and thankfully that worked out.

My idea was to visit a tree I’ve been visiting for over a decade. It has been a place I went to reinforce visions I’ve had for what I want to do and be. It was not a living tree, but one that had a hole where I would drop shells I had spoken my wishes into. 

No surprise that after this hurricane season, the tree was just a leftover stump. But there, in that container, were the shells I left over the years. I sprinkled some ashes into it.

I then turned to the water. If Jim wanted to be anywhere, it would be on the water. I sprinkled the rest of the ashes into a waterway that will carry them into San Carlos Bay and eventually into the Gulf of Mexico.

This is the overview of where I left the ashes.

On the way back, rays came down from the heavens, completing the ritual. 

I didn’t feel the need to shed a tear.

It was perfect. 

Rest easy, My Love.

Another Sunrise

Yesterday I faced some real truth

That I may not be able to stay in this home indefinitely

It is too costly and I will need to let it go

Sooner than I anticipated.

When I woke today I heard you say

It will be all right, It will be all right, It will be all right.

I got up, wrapped myself in your suede jacket

Sat on the lanai on this cool morning

And watched the peach sunrise

Rejoicing in the love we shared

As I watched the light change in the sky

And on the water

And I knew for certain

It will be all right.

Fleeting

 This morning on my way to get a warm-up on my coffee, I noticed the sky.

I took my coffee and granola bar out to the lanai, and sat with the sunrise. It was remarkable. I felt calm and brave. An osprey came and sat on the porch next door, keeping me company.

Then the osprey and the brilliant sky were gone. Another reminder on how fleeting beauty and companionship can be. Best to recognize it when it is here. My total time outside probably wasn’t much more than 5 minutes. This is what was left:

Sunday Gratitudes

 

Dear God,

Thank you for helping me remain calm.

Thank you for great healthcare professionals who did their job and moved on Jim’s symptoms.

Thank you for my husband of all these years. I’ve been blessed.

Thank you for this sunny morning. And the coffee. And refrigerator full of food to keep me healthy.

Thank you for deep sleep. I needed it.

Thank you for some return of my energy. I’m beginning to notice it.

Thank you for another day to see my husband and hold his hand.

Miss My Mornings

 In this Other World I’m living in

Coffee is not really a thing

At home, I would concoct delicious coffee combinations

Based on a variety of flavors and styles

I would sip that coffee while writing in my journal

Praying, reading, thinking about the upcoming day

But here in this Other World

I wake to the dark and it just seems dark

I feel surrounded, misplaced

It’s when the blues start to set in

But I still do some reading

And I still pray, of course

And my prayer today is that I’m closer to getting out 

of this Other World

I can find myself flowers…(parody)

 (With apologies to Miley Cyrus)

I was rested, I was ready

A good night’s sleep had me steady

I was right with the day

Time for myself in its sway

I drove my car

To Lakes Park land

Camera firmly in my hand…

I can find myself flowers

Take steps on winding paths

Be one with them for an hour

The colors in varying swaths

I can find peace in the morning

Set my day upright

I can find myself flowers

And share the wonderful sight

Empty Benches (acrostic)

 

Early Tuesday

Morning, Lakes

Park called

To me

Yes, the empty

Benches caught my

Eye. They were wet, so

No sitting. Instead I

Chased the sunny photo op

Heightening my awareness

Everything alive and

Singing out loud.

Easter Morning (monostitch)

 It’s late on Easter morning and I didn’t take the walk I thought I might take because for the first time in a long time I got deeply involved in planning for my classes and at this point it means until the end of the year and I am glad because I clarified a lot that had been muddy in my brain, and I’m also glad I actually had energy and interest to do this because for over two months now it has been nearly impossible and it helped that a teacher friend called and we were able to blab about such things and I colored the picture above and listened to Kacey Musgraves and this afternoon I will get back to the novel I started and I’m feeling good.

Prayer Trail

 This morning I decided it was time to make a trip to Six Mile Cypress Slough. I honestly cannot recall the last time I was there. I had an idea to take a small journal with me and stop along the walk and write short prayers. But once I got there, I decided I didn’t want to carry the notebook, so I decided to use voice memo on my phone. Each stop I recorded something and took a photo. Very often it was the photo I wanted to take that motivated the prayer. Other times, it was the location.

I didn’t get there as early as I usually do, and the place was already busy with many bird-watchers and 0photographers. Still, I managed to have some quiet moments to reflect and record.

Enjoy my little prayer trail, each word as I recorded it.

Morning at the slough.

I just took a picture of the sun reflecting on the water,

The trees are reflecting

It’s right at the entryway

Absolutely beautiful.

My prayer here is that I may mirror love in the world.

I’m at the lake now…tall grasses all around here, very tall.

I can’t even say I remember the grasses being so tall here.

The dry season hasn’t been all that dry, so I think that’s why.

There’s a cormorant, but I don’t see a lot else.

The breeze is coming at me…now it’s a wind.

I just feel like everything is wide open.

For a while it felt like things were closing in on me, but they’re not.

I’m as wide open as this lake, a breeze blowing across me. 

That’s prayer wind.

Walking on the boardwalk

I’m just realizing

I really needed this.

Period.

Everything feels so green.

Well, it is green…

Anyway, absolutely gorgeous morning,

Cool, humid, and wonderful.

Criss-cross

The way this tree looked when I came around the bend

Criss-crossing and wrapping around things and bumping into things

It’s exactly how I’ve been feeling lately.

Very representative!

Maybe I don’t always feel wide open and green!

Looking up.

Looking for God.

Reaching for God.

What is the slough without the sounds?

I liked the call this bird was making and how off in the distance, 

another bird was answering.

That is a certain kind of prayer.

Alone.

I arrived at the Pop Ash Pond, and I get be here by myself,

Without a bunch of bird-watchers and photographers.

Feels nice to breathe and be alone here.

Breathing in contemplation with nature is the best kind of prayer.

Sticky Notes

This is how I plan my day. 

A list on a sticky note.

It’s hard to remember life before these little marvels.

When I walk into my classroom, I’m clear-headed about my direction.

This is how I create my own personal job satisfaction.

From the Ashes

 Woke this morning to the news that my stepson

Was “going to the Lord”

And I had to tell Jim

And held him and cried

And thought FUCK CANCER

And then I talked to my other stepson

Who was on his way to the hospital

And he reported back to us

That Wayne is stable

And there is a sigh of relief

However temporary 

And I drank a record 4 cups of coffee

And documented the sunrise

And read Nikita Gill poetry

Until I found the perfect one for this morning

How we are constantly broken and restored

And boy, I’m feeling that today.

The Return

 The day I’ve waited for finally came today. I was able to return to Bunche Beach in the early morning hour.

I found myself breathing deeper than I have in a while. I couldn’t take enough pictures! So delighted to be among the sand and gently lapping waves and shorebirds skittering the edges, the newly lit Sanibel Island Lighthouse blinking from across the bay. Sunlight streaked the sky as I made my way down to the point, the place I always go, seashell in hand, to my prayer tree. I had no idea if it would be there. 

It was! Battered quite a bit, but now with an even bigger hole to slip my prayer shell.

It was a homecoming.

On the way back I found a place where someone had drawn a circle. I drew a heart within it to represent my return…with love.