Just Thoughts

Downloading is slow. There still is a beautiful picture of a golden sunrise with geese that I have borrowed from -- who else -- the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service that won't download at all. This brook came with my computer. I find water inspiring.

While driving, I had the great delight of seeing another deer of the age and type that I saw in my neighborhood yesterday. There are phases of my life in which the highlight of the day is what animals I have seen. Truly, that type of thing makes me happy. And I stole away to a favorite spot and saw geese! Really, like Whitman I could "turn and live with the animals/they are so placid and self contained/I stand and look at them long and long/they do not sweat and whine about their condition..." (I'm reciting from memory, so forgive the lines breaks, which are wrong.) But if I can't sweat and whine on my blog, where can I?

I believe, as does a new contact, that animals are high on emotional intelligence. And I believe that we barely have the means to measure this, but pet owners and people who observe animals in the wild (like Jane Goodall) see this confirmed again and again.

My son does not like it when I reminisce about his early childhood (here or elsewhere). But I learned so much from him, I can't help myself. He had a passionate respect for Jane Goodall when he was tiny, and I loved observing that. I share his admiration, and I think he felt her sensitivity in his bones. As an animal lover, my son recognized the value of a researcher of her dedication and spirit. I remember walking down the street with him one day, and he whispered earnestly: "Mommy, that lady looks like Jane Goodall." The woman was never to know what a profound compliment that was.

A dear friend locally has a loved one who remains in intensive care with a condition that may or may not improve. This is the type of suspension in time and space that makes one ache for the whole family, and the medical staff, and -- of course -- the patient. Her first name is "Sharon," and prayers are welcome for the alleviation of her suffering, the best possible outcome, and for the strength of her family.

I used to not understand why Buddhists chant the evening gatha (like a prayer) that affirms the transitory nature of life. Really, who wants to think about the transience of things at all, let alone daily. And I used to not understand why Buddhism takes suffering as its starting point. I guess I've lived long enough to get it now. A death or learning of someone's critical illness or the loss of a sense...these indeed shock one, put one up against we cannot change. How delicate the whole process of life is. Like a feather drifting in gusts of wind --

I was remembering when my physical pain levels were so high that it took all my concentration just to breathe. The body forgets pain, so they say, but one should not forget what that type of suffering is like -- not to promote martyrdom, but to promote empathy for those facing such anguish at this very moment. It may feel like pain will never end. There are at least two major national organizations that support awareness of chronic and acute pain. I did not learn of them till a day I was close to overwhelmed, and I am glad I learned of them.

I stole away this evening for about an hour to the most beautiful place I can get to at the moment. Last summer, it was the first place I went after regaining enough shoulder function to drive that far. To many, it may not be much of a sanctuary, but it is a place I find very, very calming and stimulating. I think if I were to spend a lot of time there, I could heal from a lot of things. It is near Lake Erie but somewhat isolated. The air is so different: real air. What passes for air in the suburbs is not very satisfying. And to hear the birds talk about the place. They know a good thing when they find it.