a few of my favorite things...

tea rainbow, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

I keep a flickr photo set I call "pretty," that's filled with some of my pictures that I've chosen simply because they make me happy when I look at them. Most have vibrant colors or they commemorate a special moment. If I'm having a hard day I'll click over to that file and browse for a few minutes. It rarely fails to cheer me.

Do you have any similar photo folders or things you do to cheer yourself?

pilgrim classic: What love?

Originally published on 11/24/08:

cluster of heliotrope, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

Where there is greed,
What love can there be?
~Sikh wisdom

flash poetry: flower haiku

farmers market flower seller, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

It's been awhile since I attempted some flash poetry. Because I need to get my creative juices flowing today, I decided to try my hand at a 10 minute haiku. (For those new to flash poetry, the point isn't to be good, it's just to have some fun by setting a timer for 5 or 10minutes and seeing what flows...):

Indecisive, I
take pictures, without buying
from the flower stand.

Mary Monday: on beauty and god

this crab has leopard spots, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

On Friday I shared a favorite poem, "Pied Beauty", with friends. It was the first time I'd read it aloud since college and I'd forgotten the spell of Hopkins' words:

Pied Beauty

GLORY be to God for dappled things—
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough;
And all trades, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise him.

As I traveled this weekend to speak at a conference and spend time with friends (such beautiful souls), I stayed up far too late and awoke early each morning. Despite that, I was rarely exhausted--as I was absorbing the energy of everyone around me, infected with the excitement of hearing their stories. I suspect that my travel-mania and joy in having new adventures is as potent as any drug...

Revisiting my Mary Oliver this morning, the prose poem "West Wind" resonated with me. This weekend I listened to tales of many spiritual journeys. Tales of joy, abandonment, fear, ambivalence, faith and struggle. Some were hard for me to hear as they hit so close to home. Others reminded me that my journey is unique among many paths. And thus, Mary's words about the pull of an embodied god feel so true this morning...

And the speck of my heart, in my shed of flesh
and bone, began to sing out, the way the sun
would sing if the sun could sing, if light had a
mouth and a tongue, if the sky had a throat, if
god wasn't just an idea but shoulders and a spine,
gathered from everywhere, even the most distant
planets, blazing up. Where am I? Even the rough
words come to me now, quick as thistles. Who
made your tyrant's body, your thirst, your delving,
your gladness? Oh tiger, bone-breaker
oh tree on fire! Get away from me. Come closer.

Picture above is the shell of a crab from a ramble on the beach in Cape Cod. I loved how every detail of this shell was so artful--how the closer I got, the more there was to see. And now that I'm home, the pull of the ocean is so strong I can hardly sit in my chair to write...

backrubs!!!!

when I weighed 85lbs, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

This was just one page of the 1200 or so medical records that I viewed over the last few days while in the archives at the Denver Children's Hospital, where my osteosarcoma was treated 25 years ago.

This record cracked me up when I recognized my own handwriting on two of the line items (the rest of the form was penned by my very-favorite nurse Penny). As I was considering why and when I'd written on the intake form, I had a vague flashback memory of sitting on the hospital bed next to Penny, joking together as we filled out the form. I think she had to leave the room for a minute to attend to another patient and I wrote in those answers myself, the "no hospital food" and "LOTS OF BACK RUBS!!!!!!"

After viewing so many pages of records that were about me but where my presence was only indirect, it was such a pleasure to see my own handwriting. It also made me remember the little ways that I took control of my experience in the hospital.

Oh, and one more thing about Penny: she'd been a massage therapist before she was a nurse. And she did give the very best backrubs and headrubs (one good thing about being bald was that there was no hair to interfere with a vigorous head massage)...

walking, in winter

a park, in winter, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

Yesterday was the first day since I've been in Denver that it was warm enough for a long stroll outside. So I found a park and went a-wandering with camera in hand. It felt so good to be in connection with the natural world again. After a few days indoors I'm so hungry to walk with plants and rocks and trees.

Soon, I will be blogging about all I've learned and experienced during this trip. But right now I'm still trying to make sense of it, to continue living in the moment of new & unfamiliar spaces. Sometimes it takes so much work to be open that it's hard to even put chronology and perspective on all the happenings of each day. The intensity eclipses the meaning of each individual moment. For now. Until I have the time to sift through my memories and write.

the view

Picture above is the sun setting over the Rocky Mountains, as seen from the 38th floor of a Denver hotel.

Part of my "trip reading" during the Western History Association Conference is The Best American Essays 2009. I realized that I just had to buy it when I saw that Mary Oliver was this year's editor.

A favorite quote from her Introduction that applies to blogwriting as well as more traditional forms of the essay:

We speak a good deal these days of the loss of community, and many of us feel that we have lost therefore something very precious. Essays can move us back into this not-quite-lost realm. Tackling a hundred subjects, in a hundred different styles, they are like letters from a stranger that you cannot bear to throw away. They haunt you; they strengthen you.

Perhaps I've been so busy contemplating the world of the 'not-quite lost' that I've had my head in the clouds for most of this last week. Somewhat literally, of course, as I've been staying in high-rise hotels for the duration of the conference, but also in that twice I've found myself lost and wandering around Denver city streets. How I can still get lost even with the aid of googlemaps is beyond me. But maybe there are only so many weighty thoughts that can occupy my brain at any given time....

I simply go on drifting...

Cape Cod hydrangea in the morning, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

An excerpt from Mary Oliver's "What is There Beyond Knowing"

What I know
I could put into a pack

as if it were bread and cheese, and carry it
on one shoulder,

important and honorable, but so small!
While everything else continues, unexplained

and unexplainable. How wonderful it is
to follow a thought quietly

to its logical end.
I have done this a few times.

But mostly I just stand in the dark field,
in the middle of the world, breathing

in and out. Life so far doesn't have any other name
but breath and light, wind and rain.

If there's a temple, I haven't found it yet.
I simply go on drifting, in the heaven of the grass and the weeds.

a few more steps for this pilgrim soul...

Cape Cod, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

Picture above is one of the lonely lanes I wandered while in Cape Cod--it led down to a beach inlet where I enjoyed browsing the flats and snapping pictures.

I will admit that I wasn't always entirely comfortable on my rambles. The lanes were often isolated and forested. I didn't know what was lurking in the shade. I never saw other pedestrians and seldom any vehicles on the road. I was alone.

Some days I find that solitude brings a sense of confidence--I love doing things by myself and not having dependencies on others. But some days I crave knowing that others are close by. And today is one of those days. I'm feeling insecure and desire validation. Most likely this stems from a realization of how misunderstood my life is to others--especially those who don't understand an intentional choice of small footprint living, who don't understand that I am a gypsy at heart and I would far rather have experiences (or kittens) than fancy stuff. "Things" bring me very little joy. I am a person who likes to pack light and keep it simple. In addition, I don't get much satisfaction from being so focused on the future that I can't enjoy today. Thoughts of eternal consequences are so remote. Instead, I'm present in this very day and this very moment. I am as easily delighted by a spiderweb as by a sweet strawberry from my garden. And they are both the face of the divine to me.

So I'm in the process now, of making choices that may alienate me from friends who can't understand my heart and my soul. Who don't understand why my authenticity can be more important than my certainty. It's hard for me to do this--I don't like black and white choices. I'm more comfortable with zones of gray (and brown and vermilion and azure-blue). I want pictures and poetry and sunshine. I want the waves crashing so loudly around me that I can forget those who just don't understand me anymore.

off-season

Cape Cod, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

As part of my New England travels last week, I had a few spare days in between various meetings. So I decided to book a room by myself at a charming Cape Cod B&B called The Old Sea Pines Inn. While there I spent nearly all day writing, only venturing out in the late afternoons for walks around the environs. What a heavenly experience!

It was off-season in the Cape, so everything was quite quiet. I got a reduced rate at the Inn and even though I was technically sharing a bathroom, I was never actually sharing with anyone. The breakfasts were large and tasty and there was "tea" each afternoon (which I loved, of course). The front veranda was perfect for reading in the evening, the back porch was an idyllic spot for breakfast, and the parlor had plenty of cozy couches for all-day writing sessions.

I expect to return again soon enough--though I'd like to bring my family along next time and share some of the Cape magic with them!

P.S. There's a charming bookstore just one block down the street from the Inn, which is definitely an asset to any vacation spot! Thumbs up to the clerk who not only helped me find Mary Oliver, but also gave me a pen so I could mark my favorite lines.

Picture taken in the Old Sea Pines Inn garden--a lovely spot for weddings!

thank you from Huang Meihua

Huang Meihua, the 12 year-old girl who was the recipient of my birthday wish donations, sent this thank you note to me and to all of those who contributed. Our money was wired to her family this week, for her ongoing medical care (and specifically for those prosthetic legs that she needs).

Friends, you are WONDERFUL.

A note for you:

I’m Brecken, the director of HandReach — the one who got to actually collect the money that Jana raised for her birthday wish to Meihua, the 12-year-old in China whose legs had been amputated in the Sichuan earthquake. We wired the money Jana raised to Meihua’s family about a week ago, and our coordinator in China told Meihua how “Auntie Jana” had raised this money in honor of her own birthday. Meihua said she was very touched and inspired by Jana’s big heart, thinking of others instead of just thinking about her own life. She said she hopes to grow up to be a woman like Jana someday and help children who need it. I’ll be meeting Meihua personally in a couple of weeks, and will look forward to sharing the photos of Meihua’s new prosthetic legs with Jana and all of her wonderful friends!

lessons

the first surfing lesson, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

Looking at this picture from last weekend always garners a smile even though I truly sucked at surfing--mostly because I couldn't stay on the surfboard (each time a wave would hit, the weight imbalance between my right and left side would flip the board over). Since the lesson I've been pondering some strategies to make it easier next time. Meanwhile I'll just stick to ocean swimming and/or boogie boarding.

There are two things about this picture that really make me happy:

• In getting out on the board I tried something scary/hard/seemingly impossible. I tried it just to see what would happen. And there's a thrill in doing that and not being afraid of failure (or perhaps realizing that failure will happen and that's okay, too).
• In this image my body looks healthy (especially those shoulders), a far cry from where I was a year ago. I can't say enough how thrilled I am to be strong again. When I move in the buoyancy of the water, the physical difference from my limb loss is erased--I can 'float' and move comfortably, naturally.
  

My life is a continual journey of lessons and learning. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

PS: For those of you who want to read a bit more about me & mine, I've recently written a piece for The Exponent about my marriage and am quoted on Bill Lobdell's blog. Also, a thoughtful post on Main Street Plaza links back to John & me and here's a gorgeous poem in John's honor from BiV.

In Tents.

In Tents., originally uploaded by mind on fire.

So I think my life is pretty awesome--I'm always trying something interesting and I generally love any new challenge. But you know what makes it even better? Having an awesome photographer-lover who's recording it all along the way.

Who else would be able to document the gorgeous (early early) morning light in the tent as I dressed for my outrigger race, and so wholly capture the pensiveness that accompanies every race morning as the adrenaline builds and my whole attention is turned to keeping things together for me and my team?

Thank you John, for this and for everything else that's you.

contradictions

when only a tutu will do, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

Today's escapist fantasy: me as a ballerina. Though I studied ballet briefly as a young girl, I never showed any promise as a dancer.

But today I'm living my contradictions.

I'm typically quite practical and utilitarian. I rarely dress 'girly' and I'm not 'fancy.' But I do have this romantic pretty'streak inside that drives me to hang gauzy curtains on my canopy bed, wear silver bangle bracelets, and occasionally dress up in something that I wouldn't dare wear out of the house.

so they change themselves.

garden love, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

Just one more Audre Lorde poem that I've found incredibly thought-provoking...an excerpt from "Stations" (the very last part is my very favorite bit):

Some women wait for visions
that do not return
where they were not welcome
naked
for invitations to places
they always wanted
to visit
to be repeated.

Some women wait for themselves
around the next corner
and call the empty spot peace
but the opposite of living
is only not living
and the stars do not care.

Some women wait for something
to change and nothing
does change
so they change
themselves.

Pic above is some rosepetal love from my garden, by way of CatGirl's artistry.

I take your hand....

wet gerber daisy, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

One of my joys is to have books of poetry stashed on nearby shelves, just perfect for grabbing and reading a few poems when the time is at hand. Yesterday's book was The Collected Poems of Audre Lorde, a book that I first happened upon at the Bluestocking Bookstore in NYC, but didn't buy until later because I feared it's weight would be too much in my slim carry-on bag.

One of yesterday's discoveries was a poem about gardening and hope, titled "Walking Our Boundaries." I suspect that only I could be so charmed by a poem that speaks of compost (yes, it is all-too poetic, in my mind). An excerpt:

I take your hand beside the compost heap
glad to be alive and still
with you
we talk of ordinary articles
with relief
while we peer upward
each half-afraid
there will be no tight buds started
on our ancient apple tree
so badly damaged by last winter's storm
knowing
it does not pay to cherish symbols
when the substance
lies so close at hand
waiting to be held
your hand
falls off the apple bark
like casual fire
along my back
my shoulders are dead leaves
waiting to be burned
to life.

The sun is watery warm
our voices
seem too loud for this small yard[...]
our footsteps hold this place
together
as our place
our joint decisions make the possible
whole
I do not know when
we shall laugh again
but next week
we will spade up another plot
for this spring's seeding.

rising rose

rising rose, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

“There is one spectacle grander than the sea, that is the sky;
there is one spectacle grander than the sky, that is the interior of the soul”
~Victor Hugo

I can just never get enough of that azure blue sky (and the blooming roses frame it just perfectly, in my opinion).

a small cup of light

lacy reflections, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

“But tomorrow, dawn will come the way I picture her,
barefoot and disheveled, standing outside my window
in one of the fragile cotton dresses of the poor.
She will look in at me with her thin arms extended,
offering a handful of birdsong and a small cup of light.”
~William Collins

The image above was the morning reflection on the wall from the light coming through my window at the Sacramento hostel. All of the windows had these gauzy, lacy curtains. If the old house was haunted it certainly seemed so with the ghosts of wind that caused the curtains to billow in the evening breeze.

so many roses

GrandmaB's funeral, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

Grandma would have just loved this. All the pretty roses.

Do not watch the petals fall from the rose with sadness,
know that, like life, things sometimes must fade,
before they can bloom again.
~Unknown

sisters

DAVSDOTR, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

Grandma with her sisters (she's on the far left). She looks so much like my older sister in the pic that it's almost uncanny to me.

And, oh, aren't those hairdos something else?

PS: I belive that the caption on this photo misspells some of the names. Did I do this caption over a decade ago when I was compiling my family history? I can't even remember now...