Here's a political, ethical view from right now - a commentary poem I love (thank you Peggy.)

Words Matter

Policeman
Chairman
Schizophrenic
Cripple
I used to think words didn't matter
as long as you knew in your heart
what you meant. But I was wrong.
Words can change what people think.
Police officer
Chairperson
Person with schizophrenia
Person with a disability
Words do matter
Everyone should be able to marry
the partners they choose.

Peggy Goetz, October 23, 2008

The assassination of John Kennedy wasn't politics, exactly, but history, and it was soon enough after his election that it had echoes of politics for me. I thought assassination was something that only happened in history - that people were more civilized now. I had a lot to learn about how civilized we aren't. I remember I was going to lunch - seventh grade, Ladera Vista Jr. High, ad David Speak, on whom I had a horrible long lasting unrequited crush, called out across the courtyard that the President had been shot. I remember sitting stunned in sewing class after that, with the TV on, trying to make sense of what had happened. At home, in the days that followed, the TV stayed on. Daddy didn't shave, didn't go to work and we just sat there and watched and watched on the olive green day bed in the den until the funeral was over. Then we picked up pieces and went back to life. I saved the Life magazines with the shots in the limousine and of John John (not dignified but the way we thought of him then) saluting the funeral procession. think it would have been way too awful then to imagine that more assassinations would follow.

1960 Presidential election was exciting. I was ten then, and we had television by then. I remember the debates people saying Kennedy was handsome and Nixon wasn't and not understanding that visually. I did like Jackie Kennedy's hats. I remember my parents talking about Kennedy being Catholic and how people said that the Pope would be able to tell a Catholic President what to do, and that my parents didn't think it would be an issue at all. I remember the voting lines were so long both parents stood for hour to vote. I remember Daddy took me out to supper at Alfred's Delicatessen while Mama was voting and then took me to his office at Shell Oil, the only time I remember being there. I fell asleep in front of the election returns for the first time that night, beginning a long tradition.

You can't leave them up to God when God has left them up to us.
Orson Scott Dard

I've been thinking about elections, of course, as has my writer's group. A prompt was to write a poem about a first election memory. I hope to add other political action memory poems over the next couple of weeks.

Citizenship Lesson

1956 -so I was almost six.
Big flag flew outside polling
place, red white and blue.
Daddy held me up to see
the voting booth, kissed me,
gave me a little flag on a stick,
fluttering stars and stripes.
Both parents were excited,
confused me by saying they
were voting for the donkey
because he was a statesman
not a soldier, and America
needed a statesman after
so much war - They wanted
Stephenson not Eisenhauer,
but after the elephant won
they told me it would be all right.
The people had decided - democracy.
Mama explained voting was a right,
a responsibility I should hold dear,
and I do to this day. Lesson learned.

Poor Bob just locked himself and Lobo out of the Corpus apartment - something I would have done a dozen times a school year and something he usually manages not to do. I hope they get in the back door or call the landlady successfully - too late to be stuck outside with dog - and I think the school is locked so he can't even go there and sleep on the floor. Poor Bob!

UPDATE- Bob managed to get back in through his back door. HOORAY!

It's the action, not the fruit of the action, that's important. You have to do the right thing. It may not be in your power, may not be in your time, that there'll be any fruit. But that doesn't mean you stop doing the right thing. You may never know what results come from your action. But if you do nothing, there will be no result.
Ghandi

Quiet day off here - so quiet I don't have much to say. It's starry out - sweet fall night. I have all my Halloween decorations out- raven and owls sitting on candlesticks. Bright pumpkins and hanging bats. The kids helped me decorate. I had at least as much fun as they did. This part of the holiday cycle is clearly my favorite - all warm colors and scents. The sunset glowed apricot and hazy.

I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the whole community and as long as I live it is my privilege to do for it whatever I can. I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work the more I live. I rejoice in life for its own sake. Life is no "brief candle" to me. It is a sort of splendid torch that I have got hold of for the moment, and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it on to future generations.
George Bernard Shaw

Happy Sunday night here. The grand kids were here all weekend - delightful. I took them back to mass and Sunday school for the first time this school year. Sunday school has just started up. They are so happy and warmly received in their church community and so am I. I like having more than one spiritual tradition in my life. Today after mass the church had an international feast in a number of rooms with foods and parishioners in dress from all over the world - and music and dress too. I restrained myself with the food but enjoyed the atmosphere and watching the kids enjoy the food.

We had the best in ordinary time this weekend, cooking, eating, talking, doing homework, decorating for Halloween, K.K. and I helping Bob grade student work. So much in my life is so good- bright treasure.

Mirror - Fifty -seven

I face the woman in the mirror,
tired around the eyes, strong.
Skin shows years of sun, emotion.
Body bore two children, shows it.
Hair hangs loose, no longer flame.
I face the woman in the mirror
and refuse to see her faded,
diminished, anything but beautiful.
I know who I am, embrace power
I couldn't imagine at thirty-seven.
Time may be short but the woman
in the mirror has work left to do.

Victoria Hendricks - October 15, 2008

Rainy day here, so muggy before the rain started. I walked to the bank and was hotter than I've been on 100 degree summer days. There was no movement in the air - just sat on my skin like a solid. Now it is quick and cool out - so different. I found an old pair of jeans in a box and they are loose - always a good feeling. I don't remember where they came from or when I wore them - but loose jeans and cool temperatures, especially after a muggy afternoon bring a smile.

Mary Jean Iron : Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.

It rained today - good wet rain and towers of pink cloud at dusk. I'm about to goout and walk Lobo in the moonlight. I had a good work day, rewarding. Bob and I actually talked about retirement this weekend - the first time it felt real, like something about us - really - something we might actually eventually do. He could retire with full benefits from teacher retirement at 65 (six more school years) and might work an extra year to keep insurance untio I'm Medicare eligible. I can imagine going to part time then - maybe working out of the house - traveling more (maybe actually retiring completely myself but that still feels alien) - but cutting back - traveling more - could be good. It is a relief to understand when a practical time for Bob to retire would be.

Today was a different kind of Monday because Bob was home. He had a routine physical this morning and is healthy - a relief always. We walked Town Lake (Lady Bird Lake now) with the kids this afternoon - and the kids, in turn, used the bright green camera Bob is testing for his photo club. It passed the test. It was fun to watch the kids choosing shots and each being careful of the camera. Ruth and CHris came by for a short visit and to use our oven on the way to a potluck. I feel a little tired, but happy, moving into the work week.

We just got back from the traveling show from the "So You Think You Can Dance" TV show. It was fun - great dancing and a warm, bonded ensemble of young dancers. I sat next to K.K., who said she would rather be onstage than in the audience. Me too, if I'm honest, in a younger body incarnation.

Bob and I just got back fron a moonlit walk at McKinney Falls - beautiful clear evening with deer running away from us and we saw a rabbit hop away too.

I'm tired at the end of a long work day and hungry but don't want to cook - even heat anything up. That's one of the biggest disadvantages of our lifestyle - hard to cook for just me sometimes, but I do and I will tonight. Food has really been good this fall and I'm very happy with my weight loss so far. I resisted Weight Watchers for decades, probably because I'm too much of an introvert for meetings, but with the online recipes and hints it's a great program for me.

Yesterday's Yom Kippur service occured in the Unitarian Universalist church where Kerry and I were married. Our congregation has all of it's High Holy Days services in that church and I usually don't think about our marriage there - not a wedding really, just a marriage on a cold December morning with Kerry, me, the minister, and our two best friends. Yesterday I walked into the kitchen during a break between prayers, and remembered pacing in that kitchen on the morning of that marriage, wondering if I had what it took to be a good wife. I know myself much better now. I don't even feel sad that things changed so much for hte young couple who married in that church - or only partly sad. It would have been a good life if he had lived to old age and he declared it a good life the day he died young. It's been a good life for me too, before his death and since. Nothing, no loss, no change is ever as big a deal as it seems at the time, no triumph either.

Yom Kippur is over and was a wonderful highly holy expeience, great to share it with Ruth and Chris (and Sprout). I was struck by the acrostic prayers in the litugy and made my own with one of my favorite sayings.

Love Not Ego

Loss, gain, pride, shame.
Only confuse and confound
Value flows from intention.
Each choice bends fate.

No gift or affliction exempts.
Outside, inside, hurt or whole,
Truth unites us, soul to soul.

Each can follow. Each must lead.
Give, question, ask, receive
Open, then seal, compassion's gate.

Yom Kippur - Day of Atonement - If I were clasically observant I would not be on the computer at all, but, for me, writing thoughtfully sems more observant than not writing at all. I don't feel full of wise thoughts - trying to empty out, not just physically with the fast, but spiritually and emotionally, to just hold the quiet and know that my actions and choices do make a difference.Interesting that the rabbil tonight talked of God by two names - Love and Truth - different lenses for sure.


It is up to us
to hallow Creation
to respond to Life
with the fullness of our lives.
It is up to us
to meet the WOrld
to embrace the Whole
even as we wrestle with its parts.
It is up to us
to repair the World
and bind our lives to Truth.

Therefore we bend the knee
and shake off the stiffness that keeps us
from the subtle
graces of Life
and the supple
gestures of Love.
With reverence
and thanksgiving
we accept our destiny
and set for ourselves
the task of redemption.

Rami M Shapiro

Warning

Skill has always
been easier than truth.
Wisdom demands both.

Victoria Hendricks - 10-6-2008

“How vain it is to sit down to write ...
... when you have not stood up to live."

-Henry David Thoreau

I walked up to the grocery store a little while ago and watched a couple - younger than me (mid forties?) She was in a wheel chair and he was pushing, very tender, reaching down a couple of times to stroke her cheek or talk to her quietly. There was absolutely love in their interaction and, I thought, protectiveness on his side. She had hair but looked too think with a look of pain about her - but of course I could be completely wrong. Maybe she just has an injury and will be fine - but I thought about having short time as a couple seeing them together and I triggered on something Bob said yesterday, that sometimes someone who really loves a spouse might choose to suffer greatly in grief, to become dysfunctional, to show how much he or she loved the partner who was ill or had died. That really scares me. I don't think anyone could love more than I loved Kerry and I didn't do that. Don't do that, Bob, if I die suddenly, now, or otherwise before you. Please use your love for me to make the rest of your life strong and to create beauty, strength, healing in the world in my name, in the name of our love. Please, please, nobody ever shut down in grief for me (I mean I know you will have your feelings and tears and will miss me, but don't let the grief make you less for more than a very short time - please) Use the energy to create and heal. That's important to me. When I die, make an altar of your actions, as I wrote the other day.

This was a good weekend for our family - Rosh Hoshannah meal here with dipping of apples in honey for blessings and hours of good family talk. I cooked all the food this year and it was mostly good, except that thesalmon loaf was unexpectedly salty and I have no idea why - very odd. I'm the only one it really bothered. I fixed the first pumpkin pies of the season, a real treat for Ruth who would live on pumpkin pies if she had access and would let herself. The deep levels of conversation and thought have been in keeping with the sense of the holiday. Every year as the season turns I find myself working to shed still another skin of bad habits, old ways of thinking, traits and processes that no longer serve me. This year I'm letting go a little more of my tendency to want others to change first (since of course they have more to change than I do! (not).

Autumn Return

Autumn reminds us return
to basic apples, simple honey,
familiar faces around table
older, each of us, changed.
Every autumn, we rise and fall,
together and separately
turning, toward one another
away, toward, and back again.
Who will be absent next year?
Who will be new? To be present,
one more cycle, to turn and return
again is blessing enough. Sufficient.

Victoria Hendricks October 3, 2008

I'm in a very bright, happy mood tonight - for no particular reason. I laid in groceries in preparation for cooking for the family tomorrow. I even bought flowers, something I haven't done in a year or more. I felt useful at work today. A great horned owl hooted at me when I was walking home at dusk yesterday. The waxing crescent moon was setting orange in an indigo sky and the temperature was mild. Next week we will dip into the fifties - probably my favorite temperature decade) though I prefer it when the highs, not the lows are in the fifties)decade. I know the economic news is terrible and many people I know are suffering for many reasons - and still, tonight I sit at my table with the windows open and smile.

I just finished the book My Stroke of Insight by Jill Bolte Taylor, and between that and the introspection of the High Holy Days, I'm probably more aware of mood than usual. Dr. Taylor is a neuroanatomist who suffered and recovered from a severe stroke, and she writes about the locus of emotions and attitudes in the brain, the amount of power she learned to have over her emotional reactions as a result of the experience of losing access to her left - story- teller - critic brain after the stroke. So much of what she writes is what I believe and teach in the wise person work I do for myself and with my clients. She gives scientific, physical backing what I believe and experience and what many spiritual traditions teach about the destructive power of attaching to emotions . I never would have read this book without my book group (Thank you book group) and I am inspired and excited (cheered actually) by it.

I also love a quote which Dr. Taylor uses as her email tagline.

"I must be willing to give up what I am in order to become what I will be."

Albert Einstein

Lest this post alarm anybody, I'm fine, mentally, emotionally, physically, spiritually - just introspective as Yom Kippur approaches and one of the prompts for my writing group was " Day of the dead altars".

Request

When I die, speak me simple,
speak me true. Make my altar
out of action. Hold your tongue
or use it in wisdom, in kindness.
Dance, sing, paint, hike, cook, eat,
Love, cry, laugh, tell stories, hope
Nurture, teach, learn, receive, give
savor, enrich each moment you live.
.
Victoria Hendricks, October 2, 2008

My partner Kent and I led a group at work tonight - first gorup I've started in maybe seven years. I was both VERY nervous about being competent and helpful in that setting and thrilled with the level of participation, courage, and honesty. There is such power in shared stories and shared healing. I won't me nearly as nervous whne we meet again in two weeks.

The details make life holy. If you want a little happiness in life don’t forget to look at the little things. It is a poet’s work to see the incidental, pluck it, place an appropriate silence around both sides and see the profound in what passes for a passing moment. It is an artist’s job to as much discover art as create it. Prayer is a way of making the common profound by pausing, tying knots around a moment, turning our life into a string of pearls.
Noah Ben Shea

For Rosh Hoshanna, we Jews traditionally dip apples in honey to commemorate the sweetiness of ife. Tonight the eden image combined in my sleepy brain with this custo and I put toghether a poem that feels very true to me - my second Rosh Hoshanna reflecion for this year.

Sweetening

Fruit of the knowledge of good and evil,
bears seeds of doomsday destruction,.
bears seeds of creation, love, salvation,
Seeds of hope, and despair, begin neutral,
apple seeds undistinguishable, innocent, same.

Human choice, our knowledge of good or evil,
determine if we plant doomsday destruction.
determine if we pant creation, love, salvation.
I will dip my apple in honey, bestow sweetness,
Chosen seeds will grow in wholeness, shalom.

Victoriea Hendricks - September 30, 2008

I feel much better, brighter, than earlier before I walked to the store. It's odd how just walking up the hill in the cooling evening cleared my head, and how pleasant it was to just shop for tooth paste and tea without time constraints. I still have words and words to write and not the time I want to give them, if I am disciplined and get sleep before my work day. I will get at least a few highlights down.

Bob's class is wonderful this year (so strange how groups of kids can differ from year to year). I took them memory wire necklaces with pendants onf animals and stones.They chose with delight, care and gratitude. They asked questions about the stones, the animals, how I chose what stones and beads to use together, what tools I used, if I'd teach them to make necklaces (and yes, of course yes!)

I coached the kids on writing, revising, creating personal narratives, and this group tries so hard. They have stories to tell, real stories - just need to learn that mastery of the writing craft is the way to get their stories told. I felt excited, sitting with kids as they revealed the details of their experience whether riding to San Antonio in the back of a pickup truck with four cousins and an uncle, hunting and learning to pluck a wild turkey, fearing an uncle's temper, or making eggs and watching football with a loving Daddy. They made their lives real for me, and I felt honored.

The kids and parents see Bob for the mentor, teacher, good man he is and it makes me happy to see him in an environment where he is so clearly loved. The school kids and teachers were given free food at Gatti Land Friday night and I delighted in seeing all the hugs Bob got and the extent to which he was in his element, his world. I feel that kind of "at home" at my office and I like it that he has that professional and human community too. It would be nice if they were in the same city, but I'm more thankful we have what we have than fretting the details.

Saturday night Bob and I stood in the Gulf (beach re sculpted with less sand and large rolling swells after hurricane Ike). Sunday morning we visited the hawk watch and attended the Native American blessing of the hawks. The chanting and the emphasis on this season of change reminded me of my own tribe's chanting and singing at Rosh Hoshannah. Some of the sounds in the chants were even the same - especially "Ya." The blessing offered at the end was "May you walk in ceremony always." I like that blessing - re frame it "May you walk in mindfulness always." Or in shalom - wholeness.

Owl Truth

Springtime mornings last so long
we forget the deep night's song.
Fall trees flame, and we remember.
Owl's call shatters bright illusion.
Time is short, harvest uncertain.
Owl moon waxes, shows first crescent,
slimmest glimmer of life's full circle.
We sense death, and dread her coming
We fear death and meet her singing.
Owl moon holds us, coming, going.
She rocks us lightly, knowing, knowing.

Character may be manifested in the great moments, but it is made in the small ones.
--Phillips Brooks

I'm way too far behind on this blog and have so much I want to share from my visit with Bob and his class in Corpus and the begining of the High Holy Days. I've had trouble gathering my words and thought that just starting out posting again with the quote (which I just found and really like) would let readers know I'm alive and maybe prime my writing pump a little. We'll see. I have to walk up the hill now and return a late DVD lest we be charged for it. When I get back, I hope I'll write for real.

Joanna's birthday - I took her to supper at the Olive Garden and it was a sweet evening , just the two of us - felt good. Thirty one years ago feels like a long time, especially with her Daddy having been dead twenty of them. he was so much a part of the day of her birth, the beginning of her life. I remember walking to the library in labor with her - to speed things up, some of the same route I walked home from the bus stop today. I remember walking up the sidewalk to the front door the first time with her in my arms, and then, the next morning, Kerry and I going out on the patio to read the paper and have tea and locking the baby alone in the house. The second she started to cry, he broke the window and climbed in to rescue her. It is sad tonight that so many of the people who were actively involved in welcoming and loving baby Joanna are dead. Joanna, however, thrives. happy birthday sweet daughter.

Today was a better day. I finished my apologies and amends for yesterday's mistake. I'm excited about celebrating Joanna's birthday tomorrow (dinner out together) and about going to Corpus to see Bob for the weekend. I want to swim in the Gulf one more time before it gets too cold and see the migrating birds. And I want to meet this years class and am scheduled to help a few of the fast finisher polish essays. And of course, it will be good just to be with Bob. I'm taking the super early bus on Friday so I can spend tomorrow evening with Joanna.

I am definitely in a mental place to need and benefit from the refection and turning of this time of year. I made a mental error at work which feels like a betrayal of trust to a friend. I meant no harm - was forgetful and careless or details as I can be - as I tend to be. As I said in my apology, I caused harm in the way in which I habitually cause harm, one of the ways it is hardest for me to change. I make no excuses. I had only good intentions and bad habits, and I caused harm all the same. So the reflection for today (which is one of my favorites anyway) has deep meaning for me.

Maimonides, the RaMBaM, describes the mental state we should adopt... We should think of ourselves and the world as perfectly balanced: exactly half guilty and half innocent. If we commit one sin we press down the scale of guilt against ourselves and the entire world and cause its destruction. And if we perform one good deed we press down the scale of merit and bring salvation to the entire world. Our simplest acts become infused with profound meaning.

Deborah E. Lipstadt, Emory University

I'm feeling time is short tonight because I want to put out fall decorations in my house and work starts eary in the morning. So, feeling that it is too late to write a long blog entry, I will use another Jewish reflective piece (and no, the irony of title and placement isn't lost on me - amuses me.)

It's Never Too Late


The last word has no been spoken,
the last sentence has not been written
the final verdict is not in.
It is never to late
to change my mind,
my direction,
to say no to the past
and yes to the future,
to offer remorse,
to ask and give forgiveness.
It is never too late
to start over again,
to feel again
to love again
to hope again...

Rabbi Harold Schulweis

I feel content tonight. The children and Bob and I hiked at McKinney Falls this morning and it felt so good just to be out in the season shift weather with people I love. K.K. and I noticed leaves falling from the trees in the woods, a steady green gold flutter downward - as she said "a literal example of the coming of fall." We noticed individual leaves, golden, or faded green on the path, beautiful portraits of a life and function lived out and passing to a new stage. We all delighted in the discovery, in a tiny pond among the rocks, of a skinny striped three foot long water snake and at least one leopard frog. Asters and morning glories in blues, pinks, and purples, forced their faces up through crevices in the rocks. The season of change is so alive.

And K.K. is like that too - richly alive, as she changes from girl to young woman. She had her first school dance Friday night (a sweet sixth grade dance with no couple dancing, just lots of chicken dance and Y.M.C.A., but the normal developing tensions of attraction and shyness (Does that cute boy who I haven't seen since second grade even remember who I am?) I see the changes in her brothers too, more maturity, more calm, more self awareness. Danny waked along the trail wisting bird song - joining in what he called, accurately, the birds morning party in the woods. he looked so relaxed, arms swinging, gait fluid. I wanted to bottle the moment. And Zachary is a mountain goat, a tree climber, delighted, unafraid but not reckless, just a joy - and really learning his letters now and understanding that he needs to.

And Bob. Bob is such a good man, such a joy to me - creating memories and experiences for me and the kids that wouldn't happen without his creativity and desire to make the best and most of every chance we have. We wouldn't have seen the snake if we hadn't gone to the park and we wouldn't have gone to the park if Bob hadn't thought to. I'm so fortunate in my husband, my life!

Continuing in the reflective tone of the season, I want to share an anecdote sent to me by Rabbi Kerry Baker:

Bishop Desmond Tutu, Nobel Peace Laureate and Episcopal Archbishop of South Africa, had a profound effect on his later life. When asked to name a childhood experience that empowered him to work for social justice, he recalled an incident in which, as a youngster, he saw a white man tip his hat to a black woman.

“The woman,” noted Tutu, “was my mother, and the man was an Episcopal bishop!”

Based on this incident, I am encouraged to think of an act that influenced me for good when I was younger.

There were so many, but my mind goes first to my Grandma Anna, my mother's mother, who is my anchor for goodness and simplicity. I remember hanging laundry with her when I was six or seven, up earlier in the morning than I wanted to be. I don't remember complaining about the hour or the work, but I must have, because I remember she reminded me about the honor and dignity of work done well without complaint. She taught me to hang each piece of clothing straight and carefully, clothes pins evenly spaced. Hanging clothes with her was like a morning prayer, a mindfulness, an act of gratitude. She pointed out the colors of the sky, the song and redness of the cardinal in the peach tree, the freshness of the breeze. The lesson doesn't translate well into words. It was so deep, under and beyond words - a lesson of humility, simplicity, dignity, work, mindfulness, all tied together in the daily routines of life.

And I am asked to make a commitment to pass this lesson on today.

Today I will behave in ways that will reflect mindfuness, patience, and humility.

As the High Holy Days approach I will be posting more intorspective Jewish pieces gathered from different sources. This one definitey touches my belief that we are all citizens of one world.

Humanity Is Indivisible

How does the Jewish mind work? We learned that from Teddy Kollek, the [former] mayor of Jerusalem, when he was awarded the annual Peace Prize of the Association of German Publishers. The ceremony took place in the historic Paulskirche in Frankfurt. When Kollek was asked to designate someone to present the award, he made a surprising choice. He picked Manfred Rommel, now the mayor of Stuttgart, and the son of Field Marshall Erwin Rommel.

After receiving the prize, Kollek responded. He explained that he had chosen Rommel to make the present5ation because he remembered the battle of El Alamein and the “great danger that the German army, under Field Marshall Rommel, posed in [that] part of the world. The fate of the Jewish people of Palestine [now Israel] seemed mortally threatened.”

“Who would have imagined then, [Kollek asked], that the field Marshall’s son and I would meet in the peaceful profession of being mayors? Isn’t that a symbol of peace, which is our theme here?” And then Kollek added these remarkable words:

“In the face of the fanaticism and intolerance which are the mark of our time, there is a need for a deep belief in humanistic Jewishness…treating all [people] with the same respect and in the same manner. That isn’t always recognized, especially among groups which only think of themselves and overlook the interests of others…According to Jewish belief, [however], humanity is indivisible.

Rabbi Sandy Ragins, from The American Rabbi, 1994

Summer is fading - temperature below sixty for the first time since spring early this morning - full harvest moon beginning to wane, summer green on neighborhood trees barely fading. The change is subtle right now, just starting, but heartening. It is the season of harvest and I am reflective Jewish holidays. I'm reflecting tonight on harvest. What am I harvesting this season?

Increased awareness that everything changes.
Initiative to write every day - at east something.
Renewed excitement in my work.
Commitment to healthier eating.
Increased closeness with both daughters.
A changing relationship with a beautifully developing K.K.
Extra delight in my marriage with Bob, and pleasure in his career blooming.
Renewed commitment to giving people the benefit of the doubt.
New and strengthened friendships.

I wonder what others are harvesting.

Edward Steichen : Photography records the gamut of feelings written on the human face, the beauty of the earth and skies that man has inherited, and the wealth and confusion man has created. It is a major force in explaining man to man.

We Remember Them
At the rising of the sun and at its going down
We remember them.
At the blowing of the wind and the chill of winter
We remember them.
At the opening of the buds and in the rebirth of spring
We remember them.
At the blueness of the skies and in the warmth of summer
We remember them.
At the rustling of the leaves and in the beauty of autumn
We remember them.
At the beginning of the year and when it ends
We remember them.
As long as we live, they too will live;
for they are now a part of us, as we remember them.

When we are weary and in need of strength
We remember them.
When we are lost and sick at heart
We remember them.
When we have joy we crave to share
We remember them.
When we have decisions that are difficult to make
We remember them.
When we have achievements that are based on theirs
We remember them.
As long as we live, they too will live;
for they are now a part of us, as we remember them.

I don't know the author, but I love this reading about the beloved dead which I have heard at Jewish funerals and which my niece Mary shared as the reading at her friend's funeral Thursday.

Quiet today - resrful day off. I did a little scrapbooking, a little beading, read some, took a walk in the moonlight, not much of consequence - a conscious shoring up of energy for a work week which feels overscheduled. Mastering the discipline of scheduling seems to stay justa step beyond me.

A Hole

The important thing
when you are making a hole
is what
will come
from
it.

Peggy Goetz - September 14, 2008

What a lovely weekend, and completely different than the holed up weekend I expected. Yesterday Bob and I took the grand kids hiking out at Pedernales Falls State Park, our favorite "green glass river" park. We walked (and the boys clambered, climbed, and lept) through formations of rocks right by the river. K.. talked about sixthr grade, which seems a fit for her. She seems so self- contained and happy with who she is, and had just deeply enjoyed the first day back at jazz and tap with her favorite teachers. Danny and Zachary demonstrated great cheer and stamina, loving the chance to move and be in a beautiful wild place. Wildlife wise we struck it rich, seeing ring tail and fox.

Today was more mundane, lots of cooking and laundry - but Bob and I had good visits with Joanna and Tracy last night and Ruth and Chris this afternoon - Life truly is good.

Hurricane Ike missed us - just cloudy and a little breezy. There was damage in Houston and Galveston, but not even there as much as was feared. t's been great having extra time wiht Bob. Now we just need to figure out how we want to use the time we thought we would be housebound.

I'm tired tonight - don't know how much from waiting for the hurricane to hit or not and how much just from a long work week. It's great to have Bob here, safe, before the winds and rain hit - if they will. I worry about hte people in Galveston and Houston where the storm is much stronger and already doing damage.

Hurricane Ike is Coming

Hurricane Ike is coming,
sucking moisture out of air,
breathing stifling stillness.
Hurricane Ike is coming,
storing toward Texas coast
Highways run one way - away.
Hurricane Ike is coming.
School is out. We flood
stores for bottled water,
batteries, chocolate.
hurricane Ike is coming.
We board windows,
secure garbage cans,
hurricane Ike is coming
We hold onto each other
lie restless in our beds,
Hurricane Ike is coming.
what will he leave behind?

Victoria Hendricks - September 11, 2008

September 11 - not just a date anymore, like December 7 (day of infamy) and July 7 (the day Kerry died) They are watershed dates, individually or culturally, the days before turns into after. I think the book Falling Man catches that separation of Before and After very well. It happens with other things - like a diagnosis of a terminal or serious illness too. Laurie Siefers catches it in the NPRMyCancer blog - two befores and afters - Leroy's diagnosis, and his death. I wonder how many turning point events are left in my life - how many fresh starts I have left in me - both in my personal life and as a citizen of the world.

I realize that I could be having political thoughts around September 11, but I just don't - grieving thoughts only. And thoughts toward actions I can take to help people lean not to hate, not to separate around divides of religion, nation, race, class - all the things we use to make people "the other" - "the enemy"

My September 11 seven years later has passed and Hurricane Ike is roaring toward the Texas coast, but mostly life goes on as usual. I'm surprised by how little comment people give this date - seem to be going through a period of silent mourning and commemoration, maybe trying to make sense of the change in the world internally. Several people I know and respect have said they have no words about the events of this date seven years ago. I still have words, need words need to focus and to grieve. I have been looking at pictures of myself at a Fire fighter shrine (outside firehouse near the towers) and at the beautiful large framed photograph K.K. and I bought from a local New Yorker which depicts the towers vibrant at sunset.On a friend's blog I saw pictures of the towers just being themselves on an ordinary day - and most movingly, a picture of friends joyfully dining at Windows on the World. That one made me weep. I wanted to eat there - a romantic fantasy never possible now.

I think the silence around this day for so many people catches my attention as another evidence of how individually people grieve.

A site I love - Bridges - has a loop of memoir 100 words pieces up in memory of September 11. I don't know how often they switch. Mine is in there somewhere. They are full of variety and stunning I think - some good young writers in this crew and lots of feeling from different perspectives. http://awarenessbridges.blogspot.com/

The piece I have in there is the airplanes one I wrote last year.


September 11 Airplanes

Jet planes became weapons,
silver bullets hurled by hate
at abstractions of greed,
shattered real lives,
orphaned real children
widowed real wives.

Victoria Hendricks - September 10, 2007

It seems like time, in preparation for the Days of Awe, to start with a few spiritual preparations posts. The following quote was sent today by a rabbi friend.

Shaping the Image of the Coming Year

My friend, Kansas City Jewish community leader Merilyn Berenbom, tells this story from her childhood.

My father was a lawyer, and he happened to have as one of his clients the well-known artist Thomas Hart Benton. Occasionally, when I was a young child, our family would visit his house, where he had a large studio, with a broad wall where he would create his famous murals. And with every mural, even while the wall was still blank, the studio would have in it sculptures and paintings. For before creating any character in the mural itself, Benton would make an entire sculpture of that individual, and do painting of that character, so as to effectively capture what it was that he wanted to create.

And so I have reflected since then about how important it is to capture a vision of what we want to create, before we go about building it.

And as we approach the beginning of the New Year, we reflect about why we are here. Throgh our prayers, through reflection, through sincere teshuvah…we are doing the work of shaping the bust, the image, of the year we seek to create. It remains for us to make the final “mural” of our lives by shaping our characters, day to day, throughout the rest of the year.

Rabbi David M. Horowitz

Now evacuation of Corpus Christi is under way. School is canceled tomorrow and Friday. Bob stayed and worked late tonight preparing some enrichment packets for a couple of very bright math students who are finishing much faster than the rest of the class and then fidgeting, bored. He is happy to have had the extra time to prepare. He'll sleep tonight there and get up early in the morning and drive up here on the Interstates which are already being directed only away from the coast. I'm working tomorrow anyway, so we wouldn't get much extra time together if he got on the road late tonight. I'm glad he got the extra work sheets made. I hope we are all over-preparing for this storm and there is no loss of life and little loss of property. And I'm looking forward to extra days with my husband.

It's odd that I didn't post about Hurricane Ike earlier. Maybe I really an brain dead, or just in denal or have dulled warning lights from the many times scary weather phenomena were predicted and did not hit. At any rate, Hurricane Ike may well hit Corpus Christi where Bob teaches, and may drop a lot of rain on us in Austin - winds too. Bob says the chance of a direct damaging hit on Corpus is still not real high. Storms are so unpredictable, however Bob will probably evacuate Corpus Thursday night unless Ike turns. There will probably be a day off from school there Friday. Bob seems calm, but has a full tank of gas and plans to evacuate quickly if asked to, with dog and turtle and camera and lap top in tow A cool thing is that his class is studying mapping and is tracking Ike - much to the kids interest. He doesn't seem to have any kids who are really terrified of storms, just appropriately cautious. I love how BOb is incorporating real life events into his teaching, and the kids seem to be loving it too.

The i key on my computer is sticking and I'm brain dead from a very long work day, so no real words of wisdom tonight. I am finishing Falling Man, a novel by Don Delillo in honor of the September 11 anniversary - striking book of memory, the way it is lost and found again, the many ways living through horrors changes people and relationships. This book takes many points of view - mostly of a man who walked out of the towers, his wife (with whom he was having marital difficulties before the attack) and his young son, who scans the sky for more planes. It also (very disturbingly for me) explores the inner life of one of the terrorists before the attack - his humanness, his pain, and his very threatening beliefs. The language is beautiful throughout and the psychology rings true. The tone is reflective and sad, but not without warmth and love. It's a book about after - after the worst has happened - after the turning point. It makes me think about the "afters" in my own life - the new chapters after innocence, or a love, or a way of being in the world has been lost. Most afters are small scale - personal. The after regarding the September 11 attacks was so much bigger. The author does a good job of letting it be big and personal at the same time. Literature of power is such a gift. I go to bed tonight thankful for story tellers and their courage to tell our stories.

Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle. ~ Plato

Just to get it down - I'm actually doing it - working on scrapbooks at a deep level focusing on the one of my parents marriage years. I need to buy more adhesive, but I am truly progressing (I hope, I believe) not just moving things around like I ave been when I've even been doing that.

Language does have the power to change reality. Therefore, treat your words as the mighty instruments they are - to heal, to bring into being, to remove, as if by magic, the terrible violations of childhood, to nurture, to cherish, to bless, to forgive - to create from the whole cloth of your soul, true love.
Daphne Rose Kingma

I've had a really quiet day - nothing much to post about. I cooked mango for the first time in my life - yummy with turkey - actually worked on my long blocked projects, rearranged my closets for season change -nothing worth many words but I'm in the habit of writing here every day and want to give this good quiet day the attention it deserves.

Biggest accomplishment today is that my friend Katie, a local parenting coach and therapist published my piece about children and grief on her parenting blog. I'm wanting to write ore for more audiences so that feels good. If you're interested the link is http://www.katiemalinski.com/blog/

Feeling connected makes such a big difference in my sense of well-being. THis evening Ruth called to ask me for some help brain storming for her college lecture tomorrow - internal and external, global specific, responsible or not in terms of attribution. The subject doesn't matter. What matters to me so much is that she still values me as a thinker and support. It's so much fun to be able to help - feels so good to be needed. Happy Mama here tonight.

I'm feeling happy this afternoon even though Bob stayed in Corpus this weekend to save gas and work on lesson plans. last night I went to synagogue with Ruth and Chris and enjoyed the singing and the warmth of the small reconstructionist group with which we are praying these days. It's good to see Ruth and Chris obviously connecting there, loved and supported. during the joys and oys segment, in which we talk about our lives, Chris announced Sprout's coming birth and talked about the sadness of having lost Mira just after announcing that pregnancy in synagogue. This time they are a full month further along and have no complications of any kind - so far so good. Joanna stopped by this morning and we went to the grocery store together and got a good talk in. She reports that all three kids are having a pretty good beginning of school. Home work will really heat up for K.K. when dance starts next week, but so far so good. I'm happy she is getting more dance scholarship this year. Every bit helps. Joanna looks healthy and pretty, she and Ruth both lovely in early pregnancy.

I haven't started scrap book or other projects yet - but it's only Saturday afternoon and I think I will get more done this solitary weekend than I did tow weeks ago - feeling hopeful and less blocked.

K.K. Sleeping - age 12

Even in her Pooh nightgown with Teddy cuddled close,
Even when she's nuzzled Caleb the cat goodnight.
Even though she still checks the bathroom light
Even after she's asked twice for a hug and a tuck.
Even with flame curls loose on her favorite yellow pillow,
Even in sleep, her face has changed, no longer a child's.

John McCain's speech is much more what I expected - sober and solid and respectful - not hateful like the speeches last night. I have liked and respected this man for years. I was distressed last night by the tone - but not so tonight.

I do love and respect our country, and the democratic process as it plays out in this election and in our national life.

I'm distressed by the Republican National Convention. There seems to be so much anger, so much name calling. I want to vote and want others to vote issues - not stirred up emotion.

Today was a good work day - satisfying. The great mood I built up during the weekend with Bob hasn't worn off yet. I even did some extra walking during the heat of a hot day and didn't mind at all. I've been searching quote sites, finding some treasures. This one fits my mood this evening.

And while it takes courage to achieve greatness, it takes more courage to find fulfillment in being ordinary. For the joys that last have little relationship to achievement, to standing one step higher on the victory platform. What is the adventure in being ordinary? It is daring to love just for the pleasure of giving it away. It is venturing to give new life and to nurture it to maturity. It is working hard for the pure joy of being tired at the end of the day. It is caring and sharing and giving and loving…
Marilyn Thomsen

Early this morning (though it felt like very late last night), I posted about our wonderful weekend so far. Today was even better. Bob and I hiked under the pine trees at Bastrop State Park, and visited our favorite rock shop where Bob bought a few bright marbles and hearts for the treasure box for his students. Thirsty from hiking in the heat we treated ourselves to oversized diet limeades from Sonic - and enjoyed them immensely. As we drove away from the rock shop, Bob saw a sign that said "BEADS" and turned down a driveway to follow it. We found an out of the way little bead store where the man teaches classes in wire work and makes his own pendants - and where he sold beautiful semiprecious beads at really reasonable prices. I bought three colors of jade, two sizes sodalite, and some really striking sardonyx and jasper. I haven't bought semiprecious beads in some time and am excited - and was especially touched that BOb found the store and encouraged me to buy. I felt like a young woman on a date with him today - the hiking and shopping, and on the way home finding fresh juicy peaches at a roadside stand and letting the juice run down our chins. What a lucky woman am I!

This will be a mundane post about a mundane and happy weekend.

I talked with Joanna last night, and briefly with K.K. and it seems that school started well for everyone at that house. K.K. seems much calmer about middle school now that it has started, seems to like her teachers and be making new friends. For the boys this school year does not bring big changes and they were both happy to see school friends again. Ruth taught her first ACC class of the semester today and she feels it went well. Her day job in the life skills class in the elementary school is also pleasing her - only ten kids when she feared more and another employee hired so the ratio is reasonable after all. Bob and Chris both continue to be happy with their classes



I'm loving having Bob for the three day weekend. He even came in Friday night bearing roses and lilies! We have had a relaxing, quiet time together, and got lots of grading done. I caught up his laundry and cooked lots of healthy Weight Watchers core recipes for us both to eat over the next couple of weeks. Both of us were pleased by the weight loss we are showing. We just need to keep it up. Today we received the exercises equipments (stretch bands for strength training) that Bob recently ordered. i like them and we both enjoyed our workout today. We even played some Scrabble tonight - one game with a twist Bob thought to add. We got an extra ten points if we uses a word from a specific category - tonight animals. I got four or five more animals than he did but he still beat me. Oh well, I live to play another day. We will got to a state park tomorrow morning for a hike before it gets too hot, which means I should be asleep or at least in bed, but I feel restless.

I keep thinking about the Gulf Coast (especially New Orleans) and Gustav - hoping against hope it won't do as much harm as it seems like it will. I do think it's appropriate and compassionate that the Republicans are playing down their convention n face of Gustav. I don't believe things happen for a reason or that patterns in nature are driven by the divine in a very specific, one on one way - but Gustave threatening New Orleans three years after the devastation of Katrina gives me pause. I don't seem to be able to settle to sleep and I think that's all Gustav.

Bob and I have had a good, quiet day - lots of grading. It's a little eerie waiting for Hurricaine Gustav, three years after the devastation of Hurricaine Katrina. New Orleans is being evacuated. This afternoon elderly and disabled people were sent north on a train - I'm not sure to where - but at least there is some kind of plan. I feel unsettled, partly because of the storm. Life as we know it is so fragile, can be blown away at any moment by forces external or internal.

I've been reading books by Orson Scott Card about as fast as I can find them. He is a new writer to me this year - though many readers I know read at least Ender's Game well before this year. I am delighted by the complexity of this many's mind and the depth of his concern about ethics in human history - about compassion and trying to find a right way when there is no clear one right way. He makes me think and feel and see being alive and active in the world from quirky and unfamiliar angles (kind of like my friend Peggy's poems do). My last two card reads are Past Watch, a deep an intriguing alternate history of earth centered around the fall out of the journey of Christopher Columbus and Magic Street in which magic, straight from Midsummer Night's Dream, visits a middle class African American neighborhood in Los Angelos.

Psalm 57:1
Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy on me, for in you my soul takes refuge. I will take refuge in the shadow of your wings until the disaster has passed.

I'm listening to Bill Richardson in the background - speaking in both English and Spanish, as he warms up the convention crowd in Mile High Stadium for Barack Obama's speech of acceptance of his party's nomination for president. Bill Richardson was born to a Mexican mother and an American father. Obama of course was born to a white mother from Kansas and and a Kenyan father. So much has changed for the better. Lyndon Johnson would be 100 years old today and Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King Jr. are both forty years dead. I am thankful to have lived in the times I've lived and seen the changes I've seen.

It is from numberless diverse acts of courage and belief that human history is shaped. Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring, those ripples build a current that can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance.
Robert F. Kennedy

I'm still enjoying the excitement of the Democratic National Convention - feeling generally attached to the idea that is the United States of America - completely tearful (even though I know the makers wanted me to be) over a film by Stephen Speilburg about the military in Iraq - those who come home and those who don't. A commentator made a remark about the reasons the Democrats were focusing so much on the military and my first though, in answer was, "I'ts wartime." SOmetimes I think those of us who don't have family in the military forget.

I'm having bus adventures these days - suddenly morning buses are running late and VERY full, with people standing. I'm going to need to start leaving the house a little earlier, but that is fine. I'm glad more people are riding the buses here. The mix of people is very diverse - students, business type people all dressed up, young families, bike-muters, people who look homeless - all of us behaving courteously together. I like being part of the human soup, not isolated off in a private car. I also like being outside whether I choose to be or not - during the walks to and home from the bus stop. I'm feeling subtle changes in sun and shade, the quality of the air, and seeing color changes sweep across the sky. I miss so much of that when I spend most of my time in buildings or cars.

Politics aside - I talked to Bob briefly and he had another good day - getting to know his class. He is grading busily because he gave them math and science evaluative tests today and is trying to get the results quickly. No procrastinating. Go Bob!

I'm still obsessed with the Democratic National Convention. The first convention I remember was the 1960 convention in whch John Kennedy was nominated. I remember the disasterous Chicago Democratic Convention in 1968. I cried in misery over that one. Tonight I cried too, but out of identification with the causes advocated and a sense of connection to Hillary Clinton - especially after having seen her in Austin.
Hillary was wonderful. She came out loud and clear for Obama as well as in honor of women's right to vote. I loved her line about her mother being born before women had the right to vote and her daughter voting for her own mother for President.

I've been loving this convention, identifying with Democratic tradition firmly. I loved seeing Caroline and Ted Kennedy last night. I'm still laughing at myself for dancing in the living room as Ted Kennedy spoke. And interesting commentator point was (when the pictures of the young Kennedy brothers were shown) that Ted Kennedy is the first in his generation of Kennedy men that we got to see age. I cried over that too.
Being old enough to have lived through a reasonable chunk of history is a huge blessing. I'm thinking about Kerry tonight, and everybody else who dies young. I really treasure the perspective that living as long as I've lived has given me and hope for another two or three healty decades.

OK - Go Teddy Kennedy! Go Jimmy Carter, elder statesman of my soul. I'm watching the Democratic National Convention - saw President Carter interviewed, gracious, smart, honest, low key, talking of compassion and race. Then Teddy took the stand against medical orders and gave a strong (nothing low key there) moving speech which has me dancing and with goose bumps. I know he's a flawed man, has made lots of mistakes - but he stands for the causes I stand for and I have my flaws and mistakes too And I'm more like Carter, not one to give people goosebumps. I respect them both.

Peace is more then just the absence of war. People everywhere seek an inner peace that comes from the human rights to voice their views, choose their leaders, feed their families and raise healthy children.
Jimmy Carter

I'm starting to write here while I'm still on the phone with Bob. he seems to have had a great first day of school - only seventeen of his twenty one arrived (though he expects more tomorrow) and they seemed more curious and respectful than past classes. And he has a good plan and knows what he wants to achieve this year - got straight to work with them on reading and readers' response. It's fun to hear him sounding up and confident as school starts.

When Bob talks about his technology use in the classroom I feel dated. He uses Power Point on a regular basis with the kids and seems so facile with it. I'd be writing on the board or a poster board. It's amazing to me how much ordinary activities like teaching school have changed with technology. I want to see myself as someone open to change and growth, not stuck in the past, but I think I would feel daunted being expected to use Power Point on a regular basis, not just for big deal presentations. And the resisting part of me is glad I don't have to learn how to do that.

I'm aware as I write that I still have the habit of basing my feelings on what's going on with people I love rather than responding to my life directly, first person. My own day has been good. I saw the one client I see at home on Mondays, did scheduling regarding my very busy fall client rush, paid a few bills and wrote a few notes. I'm doing OK eating the right foods but have a strong impulse to eat more than I need which I don't have when I'm busy at work - much more thought about food when home alone. I wonder how people keep their weight down in retirement. I think that may be a problem for me if I ever retire. I actually went in the scrap book room and moved a few things around as I promised last night and have been back in there today to turn on the light (which at my current level of paralysis is a big deal) but still haven't started work. I think I will get three or four hours in though, now. It doesn't feel impossible, and I think that, as Mary commented, this will get easier for me after I start.

It's odd at my house tonight - no children - no children all weekend. And school is about to start. I am so little involved in getting anybody ready this year - haven't even physically helped Bob in the classroom at all. It's like the start of school, which so deeply affects at least six of my closest people, is happening in another time zone or something. It's real for me, but one step removed. I hope all of my students and teachers have exactly the year they need to have - hope that for all students and teachers, actually.

This fall is so different, with Joanna not working for me and needing so much less help and Ruth and Chris busy in their own home and lives. I need to be more conscious of time. There seems to be a great deal of it, and I want to be creful to choose what I do with it, to complete projects, not just to drift.

I still feel really overwhemed about scrap booking projects - but now is surely the time. I just get more daunted by not picking it up again. I will do at least something before I go to bed tonight and three hours tomorrow. Maybe then I won't be so afraid to touch the old letters and pictures and so afraid I never will. I k now it doesn't matter on a cosmic level if our family history is in order or not, but getting it so is something I want to do, and believe I can do, if I just can stop giving in to overwhelm.

I found a new toy. It's called "wordles" - a way ofturning words into a picture collage thing based on their frequency of use in a text. I played with it with my reverberation/echoes poem and here is the result.http://wordle.net/gallery/wrdl/138552/Echoes. If you want to play, the wordles home page is http://wordle.net/. It's free to make wordles - and it may be addictive, at least for me. Nap time now.

It's the action, not the fruit of the action, that's important. You have to do the right thing. It may not be in your power, may not be in your time, that there'll be any fruit. But that doesn't mean you stop doing the right thing. You may never know what results come from your action. But if you do nothing, there will be no result.
Ghandi

Outrageous!

Fat blond girl, fourteen
scowls in aquarium line.
Lime green T shirt screams
in huge white neon letters
ENTERTAIN ME! I'M BORED!
I don't know who to throttle,
parents, manufacturer, media.
How could such an outrageous
message be culturally cool?
Acceptable? How can anyone
believe that is funny? I rage.
I cry. I fear for our children.

My work week is winding down - just one day to go and the last two days not quite as long as the first two.The summer seems to be winding down too. After a killer hot dry summer we are having milder mornings and warm wet afternoons. Shoal Creek flows with water rather than lying cement barren. Green has once again begun to occur naturally around here. It's been months - since early May - that I have seen local, unwatered green growth. And the normal late summer evening sounds are back - cicadas and toads. The temperature will be in the low nineties when the kids go back to school next week - bearable for sure but still short sleeve weather - too warm for cute fall clothes. I wonder what it would be like to live in a climate where one really could comfortably wear fall clothes on the first day of school.

Gold Blood

Skinny ten year old
hyperactive, fatherless
bully magnet, pitiable.
mother-loved, challenged
coached, muscle and heart
to surge through water,
passion pushed resistence,
goal glowed, mythic, heroic,
achieved thirteen years later,
records smashed, eight medallions
attest to Micheal Phelps' gold blood.

I know I am picking out one athlete here, and there are so many in the Olympics, and not in the Olympics, and dancers, singers, musicians, artists - people who emerge in excellence from shadowed or simply ordinary childhoods. And so many who look golden early who do not continue to shine. I think of the Alcoholics Annonymous saying "Don't judge your insides by other people's outsides." I think about the value of not judging at all, and the difficulty. And I go ahead and post the poem I wrote about one gold blood in particular with no disrespect to anyone else's achievements or journey.

I am in a quiet mood tonight after a long work day - good work day. I repeat on this blog how fortunate I am to have work I love. I know I repeat - and I am so thankful to have work I love.I also am really blessed in my writing group. This week, home, with more time, I am having a blast with the prompts (Thanks Belle). One was to write a poem using the word "avacado". I wrote two.

Regretted Scorn (Avacado Green)

Avacado green, harvest gold
colors of my teens, my mother's
cool, trendy - enamel fridge colors
shag carpet colors. I wince now
at my arogant young scorn
of my mother's version of cool.

Avacado Shelter

Avacado orchard behind the house
where I was five, sheltering trees
welcomed tentative climber,
secret world of shadows, shapes,
birds, opossum family, dream orchard
invited imagination, nurtured exploration.
Avacado orchard behind the house
haven of sheltering trees. Thank you.

What My Life Should Leave


My life should leave echoes,
resounding unpredictably,
echoes of introspection,
conscience, wisdom, hope,
echoes which sing out and resound
Love not ego, My power to do good
and my power to do harm are equal.
The difference is choice. Be kind.
No unnecessary losses. Listen.
Love is stronger than loss.
Reverberating echoes are legacy.
Attribution remains irrelevant.

Days off are wonderful for catching up on reading and writing - hence multiple posts here: I just found a most amazing blog, a woman's international adoption story in which she pulls no punches about the difficulties of bonding with her daughter, adopted as a toddler from Jamaica as opposed to the ease of bonding with her birth son about the same age. The post to which I'm linking you gives a superbly written account of the contrast in the quality of life between our pampered children and the truly poor children in places like Jamaica's "City of the Sun". http://www.anymommyoutthere.com/2008/08/tummy-mommy.html

I can't believe it. It's 1:47 on an August afternoon during an Austin summer where temperatures have been consistently over 100 degrees Farenheight - even 106, which is plain too hot! And right now the temperature is 73 degrees Farenheight. And it isn't supposed to get into the nineties again until Sunday and rain is in the forecast every day. I would have forgotten rain existed if I hadn't visited the Pacific northwest last month. Last week wehn Bob and I were wading out into the Gulf of Mexico, both of us noticed that the water felt cooler than usual for August (not cold but not bathtub warm either). I took that as a sign - maybe wishful thinking - that fall would come earlier and cooler this year. I hope I'm right.

Journalist and cancer blogger Leroy Seivers died of his disease on August 15. I found his blog My Cancer toward the end, but went and read it back from it's beginning. I think it was a brave thing for this journalist, who had experienced so much broad band emotion covering wars and disasters all over the world, to share his own final personal journey. The blog, sponsored by NPR, had a tremendous readership, including many people wiht cancer and their families. It was truly a gift of love. I find the obituary article I have referenced a chronicle of a great career and life. Thank you Leroy. http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=92028479

Home - Bob has gone back to Corpus for his first full school week (no kid's yet, more preparation time). Grandchildren are a their own house in their own beds, daughters busily living their own lives. Weekend house guests (what a treat to have Margie, Dave and Rob overnight and watch the Olympics with actual swimmers!) have flown back to Denver. I've checked office messages and there are phone calls to return, but no emergencies. I start a busy work week on Tuesday and am sitting at this moment in our messy kitchen wishing I had more groceries in the house, but happy to have the rest of today and all of tomorrow quiet, except for returning those phone calls and getting some groceries.

Bob's return to Corpus and work is a transition in our lives, a change point, when I return to my school year rhythm of living more alone, accomplishing more individual tasks. I miss him already and am also eager to get some scrap book work and some short story writing done. But not right yet. I want to just unwind a little, just be and breathe and sleep.

Last vacation day had a picture perfect ending - kids on the beach building an impressive neighborhood of sand castles, Bob and I holding hands in the Gulf of Mexico, discussing how to teach kids to write while we bobbed up and down in the gentle waves as the sun set and the moon rose full in a sky tinted gently in blues and pinks. The pearl tones of the sky reflected in the water, the mist and glowing beach sand looked like something painted by Monet - literally caught my breath at the pue beauty of it.

I'm still totally awed by Bridges, the web site I wrote about last week. I wrote to the Friday "I believe" challenge agin today.

I believe the concept of tryog to do my best all the time is dangerous. I try instead to do "well enough" most of the time at most things and aim for excellencewhen possibble, especially with things that really matter. I have made myself so anxious and scattered trying to do my best at everything. Brilliance, when it happens, just blows through the roof on it's own accord anyway.

Today was a wonderful vacation day for the kids and me and a good first day back to work for Bob. It is wonderful to see him glowing about being welcomed back with hugs from female teachers and administrators and a handshake from stern and very competent Mr. Washington, who teaches fifth grade. I asked Bob if he felt "home" back at Menger today and he said he did. He said it's a good time to be at Menger. As much as we see wrong with the standardized testing, having done well and being a recognized school does feel good, and there are going to be University of Texas researchers on campus this year doing a study of something about first to third grade math. I think Bob, like me, finds the presence of academic researchers pleasing.

The kids and I spent a long day at the Texas State Aquarium, which just gets better every time I visit it. it is, of course, one of Danny's favorite places on earth and he really was able to show us around after having been there all week lat week. The aquarium has acquired a bunch of new rays - really big black ones, who impressed the heck out of me with their size and the grace of their flight through the water. I also enjoyed watching K.K. and Danny both confidently identify some easy birds (roseate spoonbill, white ibis, and great blue heron) in captivity after seeing these birds in the wild yesterday. They were justifiably proud of their skills.

Beach week with grandchildren has all its usual joys - these sounds and smells of salt water waves and sea breeze, dinner table conversations, just the three kids and Bob and me, sharing memories of how we've been coming here since Danny was two - before Zachary was born...remembering the first time we saw ghost crabs together, sand castles, even sunburns - so much shared. And so much is changing. Zachary has made the jump to being able to really swim - is working on an overhand crawl stroke, and wants to spend every possible minute in the "blue pool". Danny is least changed - solidly in middle childhood and a beach lover as ever, also a good beginning birder. K.K. is really growing up, amazing me by finding the broom in the hall closet at the condo and sweeping up sand I hadn't even noticed. She also is noticed and noticing the slightly older boys out at the pool - very shyly tentative, but noticing. On the other hand she wistfully wishes she were a baby and didn't have to face the stress of middle school. Watching her, I think she'll do better than most with this change. Tomorrow we go to the aquarium and Bob has his first official work day at his school. I'm wishing a good year for all of us.

I seem to be obsessing on the issue of John Edward's infidelity. I even dreamed about Elizabeth Edwards last night - innocent dream. She was just walking on a beach but she was definitely there, alone. I think a friend caught part of why I'm obsessing in an email when she wrote, "I feel betrayed and I'm not even his wife." Me too.

I find myself shaken by another friend's comment, that maybe the affair was a factor contributing to the spread of Elizabeth Edwards' of cancer.I don't want to believe that, though I know stress compromises the immune system. I am willing to accept that we are responsible for each other's emotional and spiritual well being to enormous extent, but the possible presence of that big a connection between what other people do and my physical health or survival, or between my behavior and the physical health and survival of others, scares me silly.

The issue of the media behavior and what is or isn't news and what is or isn't private is huge here.

The issue of individual responsibility is even stronger for me though - how we have got to stop thinking about whether we can get by with things and live out of what is helpful or hurtful to others. I don't think it's just about men, or politicians, or sex, but about our whole society being too externally motivated and doing what we think we can get by with. I increase my motivation today to demonstrate and speak out for internal motivation and to teach kids, all kids whose lives touch mine, even more strongly, the value of never trying to get by with anything.

I believe the core issue here is responsible use of personal power, and that applies to all players, including the press. I keep going back to one of my core belief statements "My power to do good and my power to do harm are equal. The difference is choice". The more powerful we are, the more difference we can make ineither direction. I wish John Edwards had been more careful with his considerable persona. power.

MORE THOUGHTS: (PS) I really am obsessing on this. I hope I stop here, but who knows? I just realized that one of the things that upsets me the most is that Edwards chose to run for President AFTER the affair. That just blows me away, seems completely irresponsible and full of hubris. And if Elizabeth Edwards did know as she said she did, and supported his bid under those circumstances, I no longer see her as an innocent. It seems such an enormous act of ego to believe that one, or one's husband' is THE one who can save or turn around the country, enough to attempt a Presidential campaign under compromising circumstances like that. I am completely shocked they would have made such a choice.

I have a new favorite destination in blogland, Bridges, at http://awarenessbridges.blogspot.com/. The amazing woman who hosts Lost and Found, Connections Abound, http://lostandfoundandconnectionsabound.blogspot.com/ a superb infertility and loss of baby resource, has done it again. She has created a consortium site which I will let her describe here in her own words:

About Bridges
Who Are We

Bridges is an awareness consortium of compassionate bloggers who are using writing to educate, tell a story, bring awareness, and build community. Our contributing editors all keep personal blogs and our blogroll serves as a cross-section of community where you can find various stories on a plethora of topics.

Topics already have included infertility, cancer, mental illness,and ADHD. The site links us to communities of bloggers who are experienceing particular issues, for instance "Mothers With Cancer" http://motherswithcancer.wordpress.com/. For me the site really does act as a bridge between communities and experiences. She even has a Friday feature which in which we can participate by answering one of two questions:

What do you believe?
and
What have you observed or noticed this week as you've walked through your world?


The very first discussion got deeply into the "Do things happen for a reason?" issue. Here is my first Friday response - no surprise to anyone who reads this blog regularly, but I feel like sharing it anyway.

I believe things happen - period - not for a cosmic reason. I do believe in physical reasons: that Kerry, my first husband got deadly cancer at 36 because of chemicl exposure as a small child, but not because God had a lesson in the dying for him or for me. I do believe in God as a source of strength and energy, that I draw on through spiritual practice. I most strongly believe that, whatever happens to me, I have power in what I do with the circumstances, how I let them shrink me or induce growth. I believe that we can give useful, even noble purposes to the worst things that happen to us, and that is where I find hope, not in looking for a cosmic reason.

I don't think we have the power we sometimes long for - to keep our babies and bodies healthy, our loved ones alive, through positive thought, healthy enough practices,keeping stress down, or even prayer. When Kerry was dying, one of the hardest things was to know I couldn't keep him alive by loving him well enough. A number of people suggested that we needed to adjust our prayer or our thinking, and that only hurt more. I really believe many things happen to us that are outside our control and that we can only take charge of how we respond.

I'm feeling a little frayed tonight. It's been a long work day and I feel less than usually sure that I was helpful to clients today. I wasn't tired or "off", but do the human condition is just complicated - no simple fixes.

I am trying to go to bed early (for me) because I made the insane choice of starting an eleven hour work day tomorrow at 8:00 in the morning - will be worth it but sleep is the responsible choice here.

I have been thinking a lot lately about the lack of control we really have in our lives and want to share two quotes I like on that theme.

"We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us." -- Joseph Campbell

"I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious ambiguity." -- Gilda Radner

I have a little extra time before going to work and have been pleasing myself by straightening up a little - dusting - doing domestic things that seem to be harder for me to get to when there are others in the house. It feels good. I'm also really enjoying Bob's enjoyment of his birthday present camera. He has taken pictures of Danny at Sea Camp and is well on his way with his bird picture collection. He seems so happy hunting the birds and getting their pictures - really makes me happy to be able to add to his happiness with the camera, and I'm thrilled that he's sharing the pictures.

I got distracted from the questions I requested during the busy summer and want to get back to them - briefly this morning, then really wade in. Some of the hardest and most interesting questions await.

Mary J asks "Do you believe in absolute truth?" That's a tough one. I believe in objective recordable reality, but that's different from absolute truth. I mean someone can photograph a moment and viewers of the photo can see who was in the room, with what facial expression, wearing what clothes - but probably no one in the room will remember the scene exactly as the photo caught it because our brains are so full of filters. I think it's the same with bigger spiritual truths, that there is an objective reality about things like the presence or absence of God and heaven, but that we are incapable of really knowing or understanding those realities and so we interpret them as best we can. As far as ethics go, I definitely believe many of the little nuances we think of as ethics are really cultural - like what behavior connotes respect or intimacy - what degree of emotional or physical connection is "enough" in a particular situation. I believe that when it comes down to the very basic "Love thy neighbor as thyself." that some version shows up in just about every tradition I've heard of and it seems the closest thing I know to absolute truth is that life works better when more people follow this tenet. "Love, not ego" is the code for that tenet which I play over and over in my own thoughts and use to guide my actions. As for many of the other sayings and philosophies I live by like "Real is better than perfect." and "No unnecessary losses", I don't think they are absolute truths, just guidelines that help me live more as I choose to.

I've had a pretty ordinary good day back at work living on my own again - proud of myself for getting to the bus stop and the office on time - returning phone calls, mailing a check - all the little pieces of being grown up that still make me feel confident and - well- grown up. Funny that it's still an issue at 57. I'm still reading cancer and death of child blogs and am so thankful tonight that my ordinary days (for now) are good and relatively challenge free.

I miss Bob and am thrilled he has internet in the Corpus apartment now. That will make life much easier. We've already been sending notes like school kids.

It's supposed to rain, but it isn't - is cooler though. The sense that a storm may come, a wind, a change, seems to have lifted many people's spirits today.

Interdependent


I cannot claim to love
faceless children
as much as my own or
to care who eats or dies
in huts across the world
as much as who is hungry
in my house,at my table.
My empathy is limited.
I believe interdependence
is self interest, is essential.
All life dies or thrives with earth,
interconnected,. Interdependent.
Nations, boundaries, personal identities
are luxuries we can no longer afford.
We must choose to share our
resources reasonably or we will all die.

Blogging like mad - I know. This is the first couple of quiet days I've had in a while and I'm both having more input because of doing things like reading blogs and watching TV and having more time to process input in writing. This entry is because I just watched a segment of a PBS series called China From The Inside that helped me realize how ignorant I a of the way people live all over the world. This segment about women in China, in combination with last night's Wide Angle segment on the training of midwife surgeons to fight the high rate of maternal and infant mortality in sub Saharan Africa really focuses me on the extreme privilege in my own life, even at times when money seems tight. These shows make me see the degree of difference between my life and most people in the world's lives more clearly than just reading words and numbers can. Sub Saharan Africa has 85% of the disease in the world and 2% of the doctors (or something close to that - imperfect memory) and one Chinese woman kills herself every four minutes - mostly women in the country side between sixteen and thirty five. A woman in the countryside is not asked if she is married, according to this show but "who her master is". My own little life has been so privileged - so sheltered. I really recommend the China From The Inside series. They seem to have amazing access. The women's segment showed both rural and urban life - the regimentation of factory life (which some young women were very pleased with as better than rural poverty and others found very stressful. To my western sensibility the crowding and regimentation in the cities would be very difficult as would the hard physical work and poverty of rural Chinese life. The topic of preference for boy children (and the abortion or abandonment of girls) was also addressed. The next segment will be on the environment.

Not So Sure.

I used to think I knew
that what was good for me
would be good for you.
Now I'm not so sure

I just came in from hanging the wash on the line - ordinary enough but I'm feeling really proud of myself. The decision to make this life style change to line drying has been easier for Bob than for me. I've resisted, complained, even fussed. I didn't want to bother, disliked the stiffness of line dried clothes, wanted to just keep using the drier. But I'm slowly changing. Leaving the clothes out only long enough to dry them - no extra, seems to help with the stiffness issue. And there is something sweet about repeating an activity I remember doing with my Grandma Anna, with so much love. I am using her clothespins (much sturdier than those made now) and keeping them in a basket from her kitchen. I also felt close to Bob this morning hanging clothes on the line he lovingly rigged this summer - doing something I know he values. And talk about solar energy! It really is flowing downward here. Good to take advantage.

I found an amazing blog yesterday - sat up much of the night reading back entries. It is called "My Cancer" and is the cancer journey story of a successful professional , Leroy Seivers, who has been fighting (his word though he's not sure he likes it) metastatic cancer for two and half years. He and his wife are getting into the hard part now - the considering hospice part. They are still sharing their experience and have built a tremendous community and provided so much support and connection (I only barely managed to touch the comments but there is a large community of readers). This blog is one more example of how people can use absolutely any experience to grow and to help others. We are not what happens to us, but what we make of what happens to us. The link is http://www.npr.org/blogs/mycancer/.

It's quiet in my house - cool - well over 100 outside. Bob and Danny are on their way to Corpus where Danny will attend a week of aquarium camp and I Bob will put in some work in his classroom. We've had such a good summer - talks, walks, visits with family. I miss my husband already but also am enjoying the quiet and am about to start doing some cleaning and organizing. I have projects to do and some enjoyment of having time open to do them - mostly scrapbooking and an effort to make more sensible use of my kitchen drawers - some organization of poetry too and a short story or two. Bob and I actually did start Weight Watchers yesterday and I'm hopeful. He printed out lots of recipes and I cooked five - like all of them - sent him back with plenty of healthy food. And I will have blueberries for my afternoon snack.

Memorable Day - It's day 90 of Ruth's current pregnancy with Sprout, the day Mira died on March 11. All is still well with Sprout.

Bob and I had an end of summer dinner date at Fonda San Miquel, the restaurant at which we had a number of memorable dates, including the lunch during which we were reintroduced by our mutual friend and our rehearsal dinner (Thank you Bill and GInny!) It is as it always was, beautiful, fragrant, rich with memory, and with the best flavored intereior Mexican food I've ever eaten anywhere.