The Ego

The ego
Is too much with us
and ensnares us
with cunning disguises
that masquerade as virtues
like duty and success.

Autumn

Tiny titian tree, silent sentinal of a frond- furry forest.

Cascading cacophony of crisp bird calls bursts bouncing

its echoes from eagle eaves.

Autumn is verdant voices with rainbow ruffles;

Misty miasma mildly mixing moods,

Magnificent palette of pale and petulant with loud-leafed splendour.

Liverish

How to explain the pain-
Not really pain
But a sword in my back under the shoulder bone
The blade withdrawn and then plunged in again.

Pain is not the worst of this
But, in fact the lack of sharpness,
The fuzzy head and wavering motivation
preventing focussed attention-
all mental activity wrapped in yellow cotton wool.

Roses

He came through the door obscured behind the
biggest bouquet of red roses every seen!

Now, you have to understand, this man never buys flowers.

"I have been planning this for a long while," he explained.

"For you darling, fifty red roses, one for every year we have known each other
and given on the day we met, with all the love we have stored up in those years."

Now there are roses in the window, roses on the table, roses on the cupboard
roses on the piano, roses everywhere-
Beautiful blessing but gentle reminder  that even they must die.

The flower withers but not the idea,
So never let them tell you Romance is dead.

Steve Jobs

Surprising to have something in common with Steve Jobs
As I don't even give the nod
to his technology.
Almost as though he is punishing me for not noticing him
And in the Great Beyond wags his accusing finger.

"I will teach you not to appreciate my life's work
Here take my death's work and see what you make of that."
"Thanks for the attention but I could have done without the mention".

At least you bequeathed me a gentle Pancreatic curse
and a strong team of angels to be my nurse.

This time we will beat this thing.
and yes I will meditate, and medicate, and, most important
not leave it too late, for surgery.

Let's do it right for Steve and for me.

diagnosis

"Neuroendocrine tumour",
I can say now say with humour
and a nod of recognition.

This is the best news of all
As the odds were not good and hope was small,
But now I face an operation and small salvation.

So bring on the art and the writing
and stop the procrastinating!

Life is waiting to be lived.

The Fly

I wonder if the fly
Questions when it will die
Poor fly,
Or if it wonders why.

Family

The tree goes on and on
With vigorous growth,
But the leaf dies.

Biopsy

Not much sleep the night before, speculating possibilities.
Will it hurt?  Will I vomit?  What will it show?

Early on the road to the hospital the burden lightens as I look forward to answers.
Who cares if it hurts - I will soon know my fate.  This dreadful cloud
will be lifted.

Such a surprise!  Introduced to the doctor and nurse who will do the procedure
and they are a delight.
 Irish brogue - dark young Dublin man-smiles and charm.  If only the circumstances were different.
Australian nurse - blunt banter and crisp compassion.  The pair of them, like Laurel and Hardy
keep my spirits up.

Kindly he tells me, "Lots of tumours to chose from so we will find a good spot" - is that good news?
I lie like a slab of meat.  
"We will freeze the liver and the skin so you should not feel much- just a little jiggle when we grab the cells into a very narrow tube".

Prick - the needle plunges into my side and then again into my liver.  No more pain.
Three times he repeats the procedure chatting about this and that.  I am nicely distracted.
"I will do a core after all" and brings out the stapler!
Click- into my side like a gun.  Strange sensation.

All over. I am told to lie on the side of the liver to press down and stop bleeding.
"That hurts now"   I say.  Pain pills are produced.

Gently I am wheeled to the waiting ward and told to rest.

"She says she is hungry.  Take her for lunch and then do something nice together - that's what I recommend,"  says Ireland to my husband.

Beautiful biopsy how can you be bad?

The Specialist 2

Red eyed and stubbled he leaned me towards the screen
Showing carefully what he had seen-
Light grey blobs invading my pancreas
and scattered on my liver
Unwanted detritus.

Cautious, he weighs his words.

"One thing is good - the pancreatic mass is easy to access.
We can do laparoscopic surgery on that."

We smile.  Encouraged.

But  - always a "but"-

"The tumour may be of a certain type
That we will not excise because it is
Too virulent - no point."

We protest.  "It is worth it" we say.
But his face is solemn now
and closed.

"Liver biopsy will tell us."

Another wait to get my turn for that.
12 days of my shortened life
ticking away.
Patience is key.

But now I feel OK.  Make the best of this
and enjoy the day.

Morning Walk

Shaft of sun pierces the trees.
Ray of hope.

Leaves tremble in the cool breeze and
A lone red Maple harbingers Fall.

Other-worldly birdsong
spills forth
and fills the silent wood.

The bound heart bursts
with joy.

The Specialist

Waiting ---waiting

Nausea clouds judgement
but lemon juice and curcumin
temporarily restore sanity.

waiting -- waiting

Tomorrow is the day
when I see the Expert
who may pronounce a stay
of execution.

I pray
He is merciful.

Waiting -- waiting.

Difficult days

Even late summer rays cannot penetrate the gloom today
as they urge me to be grateful for the life I have.
Tired of trying to live up to expectations
Today I give in to dismay.

I sit waiting for the sentence.
For three weeks now I have been waiting -
like a Hitchcock novel
I am laced with suspense.

A lump of crippled uninspired clay
I still hope to be remodelled by a genius
Who can breathe life into this damaged mound
and on my execution force a stay.


Sometimes I cannot help thinking
The hopeful stories we tell ourselves are lies.

When I overcame each of life's many challenges

I did not look for this as the prize.

However

Self pity is not attractive or even permitted

"She fought the cancer bravely" is the favoured phrase.

So I will fight back the gloom 

And let the sun shine through.

Pancreatic Stories

Two weeks - no three weeks ago something happened that effectively silenced me.  I have been feeling draggy and not my perky self for a number of months and my back/shoulder pain was getting worse.  I went to the doc when I started with nausea and other unmentionable digestive problems and he seemed concerned.
Tests showed something in my pancreas and liver.  Shock!  I have no intention of checking out yet but doc seemed worried - what is going on?  I have always eaten healthily.  I don't drink much and never smoked - so how could I get pancreatic cancer?   And this is the suspicion right now.  This can't be me - I don't do cancer.   Cancer is clearly no respecter of persons.
  But the diagnosis is not yet definitive and I have to see a Dr Scudamore in Vancouver soon to operate or test further.  The waiting has been three weeks so far and that is killing me.  I hope I hear soon.  

Blahs

I have a severe case of the blahs this week and decided to take myself in hand.  This morning I weeded the back garden - long leggy weeds on the bank have been goading me for weeks.  Sitting sipping my morning coffee in the sunshine I decided they would taunt me no longer.  Armed with small clippers I climbed the ornamental rocks and balancing precariously chopped at small trees and dinosaur weeds that tenaciously fought me back with thorns and branches.  I achieved some degree of success and then gave up.  It felt good to have achieved that much.  Later I baked chocolate chip cookies that stuck to the pan, so emerged as chocolate chip fragments.  I must buy some new cookie sheets if this is to be a regular event.  The mixing part was fun but scraping the fragments from the pan was disappointing.
  So, no high point yet today.
 Mike and Keisha skyped us and that was fun - it was good to see them after so many weeks.  The wedding seems like a very far-off event now.

Friendship and happiness

I have missed a few days of happiness inventory.  Some days are easier to find joy in than others.  I have been feeling very sleepy - or even lazy since my return from the July trips - I suppose I am happy to be able to sleep and catch up on mindless TV, both of which seem to wrap my brain in cotton wool - so counter productive too.
Yesterday was punctuated with social events which brought great happiness.  A coffee hour with my friend Tessa from my old writing group was pure pleasure.  It was good to hear all her stories about her family and to just feel her warm and gentle personality.  She does the heart good - an upbeat and purely natural person full of love.
I went to my friend Flo's after that, to return the baby equipment that she loaned us for Sophie's visit.  She is one of my oldest friends and also a gem of a person.  I am so happy to have such wonderful people in my life.  Even though I had asked her not to she had prepared a delicious lunch which was enough food for the whole day.  She is such a generous person and also full of quiet love.  Hugs to both of you and thanks for being my friends!

Sentimentalism

Crooning the corny old melodies
Blue Velvet and Stranger in Paradise
on the radio
Tony Bennett
Brings me to tears.

What is this swell of emotion?
 Waves on the ocean of my soul.
Surging
without warning the hot tears fall.

Maybe just nostalgia for simple feeling
Cliche, and simple tune
conjuring a youthful June

When lovers had no fears.

Defining Sociability

Today I went to my veggie patch and it was not as euphoric an experience as I would have thought.  There were lots of gardeners tending and lifting veggies and watering to protect them from this dry spell.  I have come to realize that I do not like to mix chatter with gardening.  To me it is a meditational experience that is disturbed by the need to socialize.  I will soon be labelled as a misanthrope but I'm afraid veggie animism may be my thing.
On the other hand I thoroughly enjoyed lunch at a local tea shoppe with my neighbour Doreen and Claire (my daughter).  That is, was and should be a thoroughly social event which gave me total joy and I hope it was reciprocal.  No need to meditate over the soup and sandwich - I was having so much fun that I didn't notice how long the food took to bring to the table.
Reading all afternoon after lunch was a delicious luxury and I will admit to nodding off for a few minutes.  Delightful!

Happiness inventory

OK - so my happiness blog has already been railroaded.  I got distracted from joy by a pesky sprained ankle. However, that too brought good things, like my husband's unfailing attention bringing me everything from glasses of water to cups of tea and even surrendering the television to me for the whole evening. The most happiness was gained from the ankle miraculously healing overnight.  A total surprise to me as the pain was bad.  
So now I can pay more attention to what is good.  The skill will be greater, I know, when I can talk about happiness in the midst of pain, but for now I am not that talented.

Today my joys were - the stellar sunny day, such as only Vancouver can bring with not a hint of humidity and white clouds like cotton balls stuck on the top of snow capped mountains: the Emperor Concerto played by Daniel Barenboim on the radio on the way to Aldergrove, the delicious lunch made by Betty of simple salmon sandwiches and soup, but so delicious after a long wait to cross the border that made me extra hungry: our first DQ of the year - a Moo latte for me - how scrumptious!  Very food oriented today - I have an appetite again finally.

Summer Love

Summer lurches from steamy elegance
In NYC, sardine closeness, and family mostness-

To azure sea and virgin beach, Caribbean rhythm and happy talk.
Golden light.
A guitar tuned too tight for the wedding pair,
Love in the air.


The final scene, wide splashy vistas of green and yellow
Alberta style.
Food, family, children, chattering, kitchen clattering.
Sardine closeness and family mostness.

Family love in many places, many faces and many embraces.

The Happiness Project and other random thoughts

I have been reading "The Happiness Project" by Gretchen Rubin and it has given me a few good ideas.  I intend to blog every day about what has made me happy the previous day and I also realize that I need to laugh more - so I hope to record in my Blog things that will help with both of these goals.

Thinking about yesterday----  I was happiest, as usual, on my morning walk, when the world was fresh after a night shower and sparkling clean in the sunshine.  The breeze tempered the sun's rays and all was right with the world.
It was also fun making lunch for the family - Nanna came on the Handidart - even though my back will not hold up to much more than an hour of work.  It is a pesky thing that slows me up now - nasty pain right between the shoulder blades.   Nanna took my arm during the afternoon walk and her leaning on me was almost more than I could endure - but I toughed it out.

A charming story on the news topped up my happiness quotient.  A young poet in Toronto has been writing love poems and randomly scattering them about the city for people to pick up and be amazed.  What a lovely gift to the world!  That inspired me to try something similar.

More on immortality

Immortality is dust in the cosmos.

Immortality

I am thankful for life, although that is not always the gift it is promised to be, but immortality would be too much.

The One Taste - Inspired by Ken Wilber

Ascending to the height,

and depth and breadth of all creation

Man rises out of sight

Of earthly inspiration

And the ethereal

Denies the corporeal.

Correction.

Descending from on high

Man turns back his weary eye

On all the spirit would deny

And weeps for the abandoned flesh. 

Deflection

Bouncing from one

To the other

Will never be the way to mesh.

Ascending and descending

One process.

Correction and deflection

Create only division.

Nuclear fission.

Fusion

Is the way

To unity

And one hand clapping.

Fickle Spring

Spring is a smiling maid one day.

Gentle and warm she scatters fragrance

And dressed in sprigs of May

bends sensuously her merry dance.

She will not stay,

But loves to reappear disguised.

She sheds the garb of youth and play,

and shudders in a cloak of ice.

Coquette

She teases.

Chameleon of changing hue.

Wind blowing from the north

Transposed by whispered breezes.

How can we believe in you?

Trillium

The trillium bursts boldly in the woods today

Tomorrow already faded away.

Life announces itself that way

Such a short time does the restless traveler stay.

The Seasonal Divide

The Seasonal Divide

So soft and vibrant green

It shocks the senses

Sweet scent of floral festivity.

fertile fandango.

diurnal dirt dance of

scrabbling critters.

Sap seeping silent into

Bursting baby buds of

Life.

Who could have even imagined

Two weeks ago?

Hard to recall.

Stark skeleton

Stretched out in warning

Etched in white 

A black and brown theme

of anxious age.

Wolf howling

Into the North wind

Sharp stinging on the cheek

And in the ear.

Clear star-struck sky.

So different.

Irreconcilable Winter and Spring

Inseparable yang and ying

As necessary as age and youth

A dualistic truth.

The Watcher

Seeing is the function

Simply observing

Sounds ripple from afar

Bird call

Train whistle

Coffee pot gurgle

Dog growl

Heating hiss

Coming in closer

The Watcher

Notices

Body of sensation

Head fuzzy

Shoulder ache

Stomach churn

Knee twist

Foot  tap

Toe trap.

The Watcher watches.

Mood changes

Like the weather

Thoughts

Jump

What is this living lump?

Not unlike the rooted tree

But for the Watcher

Becoming me.

Doggerel

Quaking in my shoes

I walk a mile in thine

Going the distance

In convenient rhyme

Take the path less traveled

Not the garden path.

Your mind is a garden.

Grow no grapes of wrath.

Doggerel this ditty

Full of balderdash

Fun to write, not pretty

Sausages and mash.

Sometimes sense is nonsense,

Chunks of broken dirt.

Dinner’s spoiled forever

So time to serve dessert.

Japan

Cherry blossom.
All hope cannot be extinguished
in one day.

Homage to Japan and Ireland

Nature a beast
A dragon of fire and water both
attacked the land.

---------------------------

Verdant tree of green.
How appropriately dressed
On Ireland's day.

H20

Disguised as misty morning dew

Or deep in ice.

Bounding and bouncing from rock to rock

Or crushing sand with vicious shock,

Your roles reflect a rainbow hue.

Quenching, spurting, spilling,

Washing, foaming, filling

Floating, spurting,

Slipping, sliding,

Twirling, gliding

Swirling, misting,

Dripping, hissing

Myriad molecule

Miracle

Of life.

H20

I Am Love

I am the wild wind and the silver sea
I am tsunami and satori
I am the sturdy oak and the prickly pine
I am quake and chaos, rose and vine.

I am the violet veldt and the green garden
I am waves and rain
I am the desert dust and the fertile field
I am sturm und drang, hearth and home.

I am the trembling song and the rich refrain
I am equation and ode
I am the business mogel and the ballerina
I am agression, love, pride and compassion
I am the cog in the machine
I am consciousness personified.
I am the human part of nature

I am love.

The End of a Giant

A sick Giant stumbles on
In denial
Acquiescing the cancer
That invades and cankers his
Blundering body.

Implicit in his own destruction
Cyclops howls in the wind.

The pain contorts his fine features
while the cancer flares and flourishes.
Perfect Parasite
That thrives while destroying its host.

Die Giant, die.