LOSSES

"There's always someone coming, or going."  A Scottish phrase expressing the fleeting impermanence of life and the fact that there is always someone being born and someone passing over. It was one of my mum's  expressions, one that summed things up in a simple phrase. The Scots can be a race of few words on occasion. But in those few words they express the essence of the event.
In these past few days, I have received news of two souls departed from this world too soon. One in their mid-thirties, other a decade or more older, but still too young. At least to someone of my decade. It makes one pause, it does. It makes one ponder how precious each day is, how important it is to tell those you hold dear, how much they mean to you. It makes one breath the air a little deeper, savor its freshness, and say a prayer for the bereaved.  Bless them all in their hours of darkness.......

DOORS

A friend of mine blogged about doors today. She posted a lovely image of a purple door and asked about the opportunities doors offer us. They invite us to enter, move beyond, or avoid them. They offer us opportunity, mystery, excitement and sometimes danger.

It struck a chord in me.   Not a philosophical one, but rather a memorable one, buried deep in the recesses of my mind.

As a youngster living in a council housing scheme in Scotland once every other year the city sent workers around to paint the front doors of each house. This was an exciting event for me. Each day I watched as neighborhood doors were painted, Mrs. Smith got a green one, Mrs. Balmer got a blue one, Mrs. Braceland got a yellow one, and lucky Mrs. Robertson got a shiny red door. I tried to formulate the color system, hoping with all my heart our door would be painted pillar box red. I had a penchant for red at that time. Each day, the painters would advance, each day the door colors would rotate,  then the paint would run out and another day would wane.

After what seemed like an eternity, I came home from school one day and low and behold our door was newly painted hunter green..... disappointment....no red door this year. 

But  hope springs eternal and before I knew it the painters would be back again and the door color lottery would begin once again.


Simple pleasures....

CELTIC WISDOM

Beannacht / Blessing

by John O'Donohue (1956 - 2008) Timeline Original Language English

On the day when
the weight deadens
on your shoulders
and you stumble,
may the clay dance
to balance you.
And when your eyes
freeze behind
the grey window
and the ghost of loss
gets in to you,
may a flock of colours,
indigo, red, green,
and azure blue
come to awaken in you
a meadow of delight.

When the canvas frays
in the currach of thought
and a stain of ocean
blackens beneath you,
may there come across the waters
a path of yellow moonlight
to bring you safely home.

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak

WINTER WHISPERS

The Autumn leaves go drifting by..... Tai Chi classes have wound down and it is time to be a Little Red Hen and do prep work for winter.  That meant a very busy and pain inducing  Veteran's Day working on the the bi-yearly plant preparations. The indoor plants, currently outside are whispering to me that they are thinking about their indoor home.  No problem you say?  Perhaps, if I was not such a collector. I have added two orange trees, two papyrus plants and a few more geraniums to the host of plants looking for real estate in a sunny window.

That being the case yesterday was clean-up and clean-out day. Clearing space upstairs in the southern exposure bedroom windows for my sun loving plants and clearing filtered light corners for my not so fussy ones.   A task that I make more difficult than it need be, as I get lost in memories as I move things around, and discard some items (Like pulling teeth for me). But mission accomplished..... I moved beds to enable me to relocate the rugs beneath them. I cleaned under the rugs, and the corners that are often ignored.  I upset my wee shih tzu tremendously as she checked on the upheaval every 30 minutes or so, and I realized  yet again, what a gatherer I am.  And not in a good way.

I collect items for projects, that do not get started. I am an infomaniac and have papers and articles galore. Ideas don't travel from my head to my hands.  I have ghosts of hobbies past too good to discard, yet lying like an orphan in a forgotten binder. That bothers me, as I prepare for winter, time after all never comes around for a second visit. Yet I continue to act as if I shall live forever, steeped in the denial of my mortality. For surely the only way I could accomplish using all of this information would be if I actually was immortal.

Add to that losing loved ones, which  has a way of stopping time for those left behind. That being said, I am tired of stagnating in "stuff", holding memories in "things" closing myself up in the memory chest.  Time to push back the drapes and let the winter sun into my heart to illuminate the dark corners.  Then maybe, just maybe, I will become willing to bless what I find there and let them go.