November 3, 2002 - B
"Contemplation Of The Beautiful"
We arrived to find no one else there. We sat in the garden courtyard until a member of the other church opened the door for us, and we sat and waited. Yet this did not keep us from our own spiritual explorations. My mind pondered the creation of sacred space.
That courtyard garden was full of a rich spiritual energy, bringing peace and beauty. Julia was more inspired by the chapel room, with its stained glass windows, light from behind with artificial light. A glowing Jesus, rather handsome in his long dark hair and beard, kneeled before us. ''He looks like a member of the SCA,'' Julia opined (Society For Creative Anachronisms, in case you don't know.). I agreed, ''He'd look good in Renaissance gear. He'd look good in any sort of garment.'' And then I added, ''I wonder if that beard would be scratchy . . .'' Well, because that's how my mind works.
Oh, and I have a new book about ''The Vampire Armand'' He's described as having the 'face of a Botticelli angel'. Sigh, pitter-patter. It's ''lush and delicious'', indeed. Sigh. Does not 'contemplation of beautiful things' (and people) elevate the spirit? I think so.
(What are you thinking, 'elevation of maybe something else'? Grin!)
November 5, 2002 - A
"I Voted"
Gore Vidal
Julia and I kept up the Lansberry tradition and got out while it's still dark to vote. We did our best with the scanty knowledge we have of the candidates. Though we have heard much from a few of the vocal ones on the radio ads. They are probably only the most financed, however. Still, we've done the best we could.
The Arizona Daily Star online is a good source of info. Sadly, I couldn't find much information on local candidates in the online version of the Yuma Sun. Few of them had radio ads, and I was pretty much left to guessing, which is pitiful. ''Which name sounds the least like a fundy dirt bag?'' Julia said she voted for ones named Renée, for that is a common name chosen by transsexuals. I thought a Glenda might be hopeful, for she could be 'Glenda, the good witch'. Positively dangerous, it is, to be so uninformed.
November 5, 2002 - B
"Didn't Agree"
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''I know we told you if you couldn't keep to four-legged mammals, EVILDOERS could be had . . .''
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November 5, 2002 - C
"Shock"
But then I checked my e-mail again, and I got the same message:
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''Please forgive the generic email here, but dear Richard passed away
tonight. About 4:30 or 5pm. He looked like he died in his sleep, or
peacefully. I found him about 6pm and have been with the police, detective and others since. He finished the last payment of his cremation policy this month, he even said he 'could die now' and I told him 'Just because you have it paid for doesn't mean you can die, you can't do that'. So . . .'' |
He'd just posted to our little list that he and Serena had also voted, and how he was looking forward to ''Not having any more political campaign ads for at least another year. :)''. That was at 1:30. And then at 4:30, he's dying. No more political ads ever, now.
Yup. I was going to write an all happy entry about how Julia finally has a new job. I was gonna tomorrow morning. But instead . . .
. . . four thirty this evening was when I was crying with Julia, crying great tears of relief over her new job, thinking finally, something RIGHT is happening, feeling such relief over our financial situation, and while I'm there hugging and crying with Julia, RICHARD IS DYING????
I'm nearly speechless.
our best picture of Richard, back from Christmas of 1999
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We can never know what strengths and revelations might be on the other side of our fears until we face them and feel them all the way through. True positive thinking is the mental stance of surrender, simply trusting the process. We learn to accept what is. Jacquelyn Small
Out of the abysses, unpredictable life emerges, with a never-ending procession of miracles, crises, healing, and growth. When I realize this once again, I see the absurdity of my belief that I can understand, predict, and control life. All I can really do is go along for the ride, with as much consciousness and love as I can muster in the moment.
Molly Young Brown
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This 'flexibility' is now being required by our friend Serena, who has serious life choices to make. I can pray for her to have wisdom, and I do, but it is the moment to moment answering that she must have. For it is in the 'moment to moments' that we are asked so many questions. And sometimes fate is awful demanding.
Serena said to me in a letter, ''I am remembering this morning some conversations all of us had out on the porch of the Azalea house - those when Richard and Laura would be comparing heart conditions and each so determined that theirs was worse and they would go first - well, they went within months of each other . . .''
Months, it was. Also, each of them knew their own peculiar conditions very well, as what each of them thought would do them in, did 'do them in'. Richard's heart did just 'stop pumping'. At least it was a peaceful way to go. Laura's, I'm sure, despite the sedative, had some pain to it.
Serena spoke of the relief of not having anything unrealized about Richard while he was alive. I can think of only one about Laura. I'd always suspected it, but never fully realized it until now. Laura was an unusual sort of transsexual, possessing strong strains of both male and female energy. It was early in her path that she learned not to deny this.
Julia, in contrast, is more the 'traditional transsexual', with mostly female energy. I am surprised to find myself missing Laura's 'male energy'. I'm certain it's why all those cute vamps, Armand and the like, are calling to me. I did not look at men before. But now I do, sensing that 'energy' Laura had. But sadly, few men have it in the degree that Laura had! She did say once, to a detractor, ''I'm more woman than you'll ever have and more man than you'll ever be.'' And that's so true.
Even now, I imagine her spirit, bored with death, saying ''I've slept enough, it's time to return to the living''. Though, if this be true, then once again in my new incarnation, I'd meet Laura as a much younger person. Well, that's all speculation, comforting though it may be.
Though it IS how Laura's spirit would act, bored with ANYTHING after very long. Still, how she managed to keep things exciting!
In lovely memory, I can recall the excitement, in these quiet moments. And I softly glow with the warmth of it.
November 9, 2002 - A
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If I find the word, glittering, shining in the mud, and I grab it up and say it's mine, Do I get to keep it? My greedy little fingers keep grabbing.
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November 9, 2002 - B
"Must Be Patient"
I read the words of Armand, an immortal created by a mortal. How finely Anne Rice weaves the tapestry of her words! So thoroughly she puts me under a spell. He, through the centuries, knew heaven and hell. And there be mortals, too, with that span of knowledge, all compact, though not necessarily neat.
Who do we know that could tell us? We listen for hints in the wind. Any truth might come now. We are prepared for any. Or at least I am, as best I might.
I watch and I wait, greedy word-grabber. Because of these, such illuminations are made on the dark path. And illuminations may bring forgiveness for what we don't yet understand.
Still, I must be patient. And so I wait, in the darkness, with the lighted pen, ready to scribe what will be offered.
In silence, I learn, In wisdom, I act. In trust, I live. One step at a time. That is always the way. But I am not always so patient. Would an Immortal be patient? Or would the waiting get to her as well? But that is all a fabrication of the mind. Everything on this planet dies, and even, the planet will too some day. And the sun, and the moons and all our fictions . . .
But maybe something will survive, whisked away to a safer world, when that day of doom will come. I now make my prayer for it, far thinking me! Should I think of nearer trajedies? I do, but I like to stretch my mind into the future, too. The mind is elastic and timeless, immortal while it lives. Until the gray ??? comes and . . .
But maybe something survives. I drink of hope, I feed on hope. Let last what will, and I will help it last, and let the days take their course. There is a wiser wisdom at work, though I know it not.
November 9, 2002 - C
"Still Must Be Patient"
Can she hear? Is there any way I could know? And why do I fret so over such useless things? Did not she believe the skepticism must always remain. Question those fevered wishes of weak folk who cannot accept the truth that death is final and utter. But I don't want to!
My heart cries out there must be more! So, is it either to illusions I must cling, or wipe these tears and begin now the ruthless skepticism? Oh, and to you who have come here to hear me grieve? I apologize that I should wallow so in this so, with its burning questions and aches. If Laura could answer, I know she would. I know that. Maybe all her skepticism was from the pain of hoping too much for things that might not be true. Set it aside, with a clear mind, and force some clarity into these vain wishes.
I deep breathe, and know again, tomorrow, I'll smile. Didn't Julia and I cuddle last night so sweetly? And didn't we laugh today with our friends, and eat a lovely meal, in the garden restaurant with the beautiful birds, some caged, some flying free? Oh, we did, and there will be more joys. It's just sometimes, there's the fiery ache. And I suppose I must just let it burn when it flares up, oh, like the sun that could have devoured Armand, it seems. I should thrust myself upwards into its full glare and let it take me . . .
. . . then I fall into the sleeping soft snow, and I am hidden and not burned anymore? Perhaps it is like this. Let come what may. I shall have to learn that darned patience.
November 10, 2002
"Forty Fourth Birthday"
Julia's special stamp!
Ah, that I should whine so like I do! How many times did I entreat Laura to cease crying over Shayna, ''You have among you the LIVING who love you! Take notice of US!'' And she'd admit her foolishness. And her dark clouds would flee for a while. And they do flee, now.
Later today, I read some items on the Yuma Pagan Network that were very interesting about the symbology of SNAKES. ''Because the snake sheds its skin each year and appears renewed, it is a symbol of life, death and rebirth. Since they often nest underground, snakes have long been symbolic of the dead returning to the upper world.'' This symbol seems especially important for me to work with now, as I am still grieving over Laura's death. Thus, I made a mandala which pleases me.
Ouroburos Snake Energy
November 11, 2002
"If My Will Is Strong"
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The faintest whispers can barely be heard. But they are always here around us. Ancient truths, older than time, whispering so faintly.
The soft whispering hands of Fate
Did I not know what the voice would say?
''Let Fate take me,''
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November 14, 2002
"Becoming Flexible"
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While we may talk of the divine "plan" and outline the stages of the spiritual journey as presented by the great teachers of our tradition, the only thing we can be absolutely sure of in the spiritual journey is that whatever we are expecting to happen will not happen. God is not bound by our ideas . . . One way or another, we will have to take the leap of trust into the
unknown.
-Thomas Keating, Invitation to Love
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Both in spiritual things and in temporal, earthly things, nothing stays at stasis for long. One way or another, something changes and then we must change to meet it.
As I sit here while it is still dark, typing my fingers into less stiffness, I wonder what the day will bring. Today is Julia's first regular day of work, the first two being orientation and computer introduction. There may be changes at my work as well, a partial transfer to another branch. At least the idea has been introduced to me, and may become something other than just an idea.
I am becoming flexible.