Is It Spring Yet? I Need A New Leaf

Winter reigns.  Various parts of the nation are buried under snow and/or frozen with terrible low temperatures. Herself's parents, who are attempting to make their way to this desert land, have had flights canceled on two successive days due to the inclement weather. These are the winter doldrums. The doldrums are not a good place.

Herself cannot find any rhythm right now. She knows she must find new patterns, new habits, new ways of moving through the days, yet she continues to be stymied by the losses and changes. Having spent various evenings of the past month and a half interviewing applicants to her alma mater, she is acutely aware that she graduated from college long before any of these youngsters were born, and she feels the full weight of her middle-age and her myriad responsibilities.  She feels stuck at a crossroads, unsure where to go or how to get there, but knowing that the world keeps turning and thus she must also keep moving as well.

In this winter of the soul, Herself seeks consolation in the writings of John O'Donohue. Author of two of Herself's favorite books -- Anam Cara: A Book Of Celtic Wisdom, and Eternal Echoes: Celtic Reflections on Our Yearning to Belong, he gathers words in beautiful, complex, and lyrical ways. (You'll find quotes of his sprinkled throughout the blog, including here, here, here, and here, to name just a few.)  There is a comfort in his words that can be found no where else.

Tonight, we've delved into a third book:  To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessings.  When all is in flux and we are uncertain, a blessing may be what we need the most.

For The Interim Time

When near the end of day, life has drained
Out of light, and it is too soon
For the mind of night to have darkened things,

No place looks like itself, loss of outline
Makes everything look strangely in-between,
Unsure of what has been, or what might come.

In this wan light, even trees seem groundless.
In a while it will be night, but nothing
Here seems to believe the relief of darkness.

You are in this time of the interim
Where everything seems withheld.

The path you took to get here has washed out;
The way forward is still concealed from you.

"The old is not old enough to have died away;
The new is still too young to be born."

You cannot lay claim to anything;
In this place of dusk,
Your eyes are blurred;
And there is no mirror.

Everyone else has lost sight of your heart
And you can see nowhere to put your trust;
You know you have to make your own way through.

As far as you can, hold your confidence.
Do not allow confusion to squander
This call which is loosening
Your roots in false ground,
That you might come free
From all you have outgrown.

What is being transfigured here is your mind,
And it is difficult and slow to become new.
The more faithfully you can endure here,
The more refined your heart will become
For your arrival in the new dawn.

- John O'Donohue

Picture copyright 2014, 2015, Mediocria Firma. Used with gratitude.

Live Long and Prosper

Leonard Nimoy passed away today.  His iconic Mr. Spock -- he of arched eyebrow, "fascinating," and impeccable logic -- was near and dear to generations of Star Trek fans.  Herself was always partial to Spock: his science, his wry and patient tolerance for the foibles of human nature, his effortless intelligence, were all so appealing. She suspects that many of these characteristics were shared by Leonard Nimoy himself.  He was so much more than Spock, too: he was photographer, director, and poet; he was a million other little things, including the narrator of bits of the planetarium shows at the Boston Museum of Science. And thus in a way, he was a piece of our childhoods, our young adulthoods, our Star Trek-loving selves.  He enriched our imaginations and our lives. And the planet is better for him.

Godspeed, Mr. Nimoy.  You lived long, and you prospered. 

A Little Juvenile Humor

PEANUT BUTT BALLS.  Hee.

Things I Cannot See

Time once more for the annual pelt survey with the dermatologist.  Inward sigh.

All went reasonably well.  There were only two questionable skin activities about which Herself had concerns; the first was handled with a wee bit of liquid nitrogen, and the second was addressed with a (slightly painful) injection that might require a second treatment in a few weeks, but should resolve in due course.  Then, she'll be all set -- barring any new oddities -- for another year.

It's an awkward situation, to be so carefully scrutinized by a virtual stranger, yet the nurse practitioner who conducts the exams makes it tolerable with her professional and soothing demeanor.  Herself is rather a freckly person, so the nurse checks all the spots carefully:  "This looks fine... these are all the same, which is good... anything different? No? Good...."  Herself was vaguely amused when the nurse pointed out that there are three freckles in a row on Herself's left buttock:  "Like a constellation...."  Herself hadn't known that.  (After all, it's a tad difficult to observe one's own posterior.)  Perhaps Herself shall get out the hand mirror and take a peek later.  Orion's Belt? Or part of Ursa Major? We shall see.

These constellations found here: http://transientexpression.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/08/Orion-+-Ursa-Major.jpg. And possibly on Herself's behind.

When One Is Sad

It seems to me that almost all our sadnesses are moments of tension, which we feel as paralysis because we no longer hear our astonished emotions living. Because we are alone with the unfamiliar presence that has entered us; because everything we trust and are used to is for a moment taken away from us; because we stand in the midst of a transition where we cannot remain standing. That is why the sadness passes: the new presence inside us, the presence that has been added, has entered our heart, has gone into its innermost chamber and is no longer even there, - is already in our bloodstream. And we don't know what it was. 

We could easily be made to believe that nothing happened, and yet we have changed, as a house that a guest has entered changes. We can't say who has come, perhaps we will never know, but many signs indicate that the future enters us in this way in order to be transformed in us, long before it happens. And that is why it is so important to be solitary and attentive when one is sad: because the seemingly uneventful and motionless moment when our future steps into us is so much closer to life than that other loud and accidental point of time when it happens to us as if from outside. The quieter we are, the more patient and open we are in our sadnesses, the more deeply and serenely the new presence can enter us, and the more we can make it our own, the more it becomes our fate. 

― Rainer Maria Rilke

One Thousand

The car turned 1,000 miles this evening.

It is ever so polite and considerate, this car.  This morning when the temperature was a brisk 37 degrees, a notification popped up reminding that the roads might be icy, and to drive carefully.  And this afternoon, it provided another reminder, indicating that the fuel level was low and to please refuel.

Thank you, car.  We've taken note.

Suit

While Herself heartily dislikes putting on a bathing suit, she would make an exception for this one, from ModCloth.  Retro! Supportive! Not excessively revealing! And best of all, science-y.  Excellent.

You can find it here: 

http://www.modcloth.com/shop/twopiece-swimwear/you-ve-got-chemistry-swimsuit-top-in-bustier