I don’t think the bird is aghast. Me either, walking on the beach. There is so much to see.
What is this cloud bank behind the ship? And the ships are so big close up and so small on the water. Gast and ghast are both words, but don’t mean the opposite of aghast. The opposite is unfrightened, unfazed, relaxed.
The water is never what I would call warm, yet surfers and divers and swimmers are out there, with their extra skins.
This is not as static as it looks in the still photograph. Not at all! This is a happening rock!
There were ten in the bed and the little one said “Roll over! Roll over!”
So they all rolled over and one fell out
There were eight in the bed and the little one said, “Roll over, roll over!”
So they all rolled over and some fell out,
There were three on the rock and the big one said, “Roll over, roll over!” So they all rolled over and one fell out.
There were two on the rock and the big one said, “The tide is coming in, and we are going to swim.”
These were taken in May of 2023 from Marrowstone Island and the order is reversed. As the tide goes out the island appears and the seals start hopping out to rest, digest and enjoy the sun.
Careful, careful! That seaweed can be slick as snot and hiding a squelching tide pool. Not so deep that you fall in, but you may fall down and ouch! The rocks and barnacles are not soft.
Think of the things the thumb and fingers have built
Hunt and home and hearth and healing and hearts
The eyes to look, the brain to decide, down the body tilts
This is the stone I choose to pick up, and toss, or collecting starts.
I miss my Salish Sea. At home I can’t see it from my house, but stand in the middle of my street and there it is.
All that water. There are mountains here and trees, but they are very different. Here it is high desert, 4600 feet and up. The Grand Valley is at 4600 feet and the mesas rise from here. I miss Port Townsend Bay, and the big trees.
Gold sky and blue water. Look! A grebe! Catching breakfast!
I keep wondering at the stubborn part of me that will not let go. That wants to reconcile with all, no matter what they’ve done. I go inside, deep and deeper, in the depths all is slow. That part is the holy part that longs for the One. I have been told to let go of things, forget, no more longing. But the longing is a sacred place, a longing for the Beloved. I think that excising it would be a horrid evil wronging. Handle gently, with care, with love, and gently gloved. I meet someone who says, “You are very in touch with your inner child.” I know it’s not a compliment, I smile and pay little mind. My Child is my connection to the Beloved, fierce and mild. Jealous judging rolls right off, people can be unkind. I won’t excise the holy core, the Beloved inner child. I feel the Beloved’s laughing play and joy, heart running wild.
Human behavior doesn’t surprise me, really. Sometimes it disappoints, depresses, demeans, dispirits and demoralizes. And it’s not the patients. It is the corporate workplace and how it abuses people. And circles the wagons against a threat. Including against employees that it views as threats.
I think all of my patients are smart. “You got this,” I say. I explain what carbohydrates are and that they are in everything, practically, except meat and oil. And some meats have carbohydrates too: shrimp, for example. But my patients can figure this out! My patients rise to the occasion! I am not saying that they do smart things all the time. No one does, including me. Even the smartest ones can do things that are not a good idea or are a really bad idea. Growing up in an addiction household, I think I escaped addiction mostly because I had decided that no adults could be trusted by the time I was three. I thought they loved me but I couldn’t trust them not to give me to someone else. Ironic, that the distrust saved me from taking the same path. My sister took it and is gone. My patients are smart and all I have to do is share my education and experience! They take the ball and run with it! Not all. Sometimes it’s too late and everyone dies eventually.
Corporations, on the other hand, are infuriatingly stupid.
The photograph is me in 2015, sailing my father’s boat with my daughter, in Port Townsend Bay.
Something is happening all around me Something unpleasant is creeping around I trust that feeling, that core that is free I go quiet and listen, I will stand my ground I am told no problem, this is routine Nothing to worry about, averting their eyes Lay down and be walked on, take it for the team Blind-sided, I walk through a jungle of lies. I walk very slowly then take to the trees. I swing on a vine past the river of tears. Wave to the gators with teeth to eat me, Routine bad treatment not surprising nor feared. In the treetops I sing to the stars quite alone I am happy and making my quiet way home.
Suddenly I am thinking about home. Travel does that sometimes.
Discover and re-discover Mexicoβs cuisine, culture and history through the recipes, backyard stories and other interesting findings of an expatriate in Canada
Engaging in some lyrical athletics whilst painting pictures with words and pounding the pavement. I run; blog; write poetry; chase after my kids & drink coffee.
Refugees welcome - FlΓΌchtlinge willkommen I am teaching German to refugees. Ich unterrichte geflΓΌchtete Menschen in der deutschen Sprache. I am writing this blog in English and German because my friends speak English and German. Ich schreibe auf Deutsch und Englisch, weil meine Freunde Deutsch und Englisch sprechen.
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