3 sisters, plus 2

My "three sisters" - basics that will feed my soul:

• lights out by 10:30 p.m./up by 6:00 a.m., 
• starting each day with a large glass of water, 
• then doing the first of three sets of breathwork.  

They are the three things I am committed to making part of my forever daily routine.  

Add two more.  Follow through on the notices I've posted for years between the computer & art studios.  They'll add an "us" aspect to my commitment.  

Feels right.

three sisters

Been pondering what I want to talk to Kim about next Monday.  In our native population, the "three sisters" of their diet were squash, corn & beans - their foundational foods.  I'll discuss my own "three sisters" - getting to bed  & up at an early hour, start the day with breathwork, followed by a walk.  For decades, I've known that if I did those three things, my life would be better, more whole, more healthy.  

And, knowing that, I've never made them part of my first-thing daily life.  No better way to start my work with Kim than to begin setting my life right-side up by honoring & incorporating them into my life!

idioTsyncracy

The definitition of  idiosyncracy omits the most important one of all.  Look it up - the definition I found reads:

id·i·o·syn·cra·sy  ˌidēəˈsiNGkrəsē/ 

noun: idiosyncrasy; plural noun: idiosyncrasies  

       a mode of behavior or way of thought peculiar to an individual > "one of his  little idiosyncrasies was    always preferring to be in the car first"

a distinctive or peculiar feature or characteristic of a place or thing >"the idiosyncrasies of the prison system"

Sheez - that completely leaves out: potential to be the opposite & opponent of true, genuine loving.   Because that is what negative idiosyncracies, left unrecognized & unaddressed, can be - opponents of deep loving. John & I run into that reality at least once a week.  One of his idiosyncracies acts as a hair trigger to one of my most sensitive.  Every week, we go through the same mini drama & every week it's all because of what I have come to write as an idioTsyncracy.   There are a lot of idiosyncracies that are perfectly harmless, but it seems to me that we are called by common sense if not by a Higher Power to figure out which ones are doing damage & clear 'em out.   .

Power of a Vision

It is strange, being wakened in the wee small hours of the morning by the contemplation of vision.  My brain has been working on it & working on it & still still in a quandary.

While there's nothing more powerful than a clear vision of what can be, at the same time, it's totally utterly completely worthless without being backed up by energy effort action to take it from the meant to be to the is. The initial vision has the potential to be unspeakably powerful, but only when it's actually realized.

Confusing.  Yet true.

Example - it feels like the great value that I brought to my mother, my brothers  & sister was that I seemed to be the only one who SAW us, enVISIONED us, as a whole (in all its meanings) family rather than the piecemeal family they seemed to experience.  

To this day, I hold Peter & Michael in my heart as my brothers & Mim as my sister.  To this day, part of my life's goal is to be a good sister, just as it was to be a good daughter & is now to be a good wife.  

Living those roles fully & vibrantly were part of my operating instructions from the first moment my eyes could focus.  Part of my social emotional spiritual DNA.  And holding a vision of us all as a family is always & forever in my heart.  It might not express itself in the way I once longed for, but it is fully what it is, as funky & quirky as that might be.  As long as that vision of family - each person being fully himself, herself within a greater whole - is in my heart, it has some edge of reality.

Right now, my great vision is of a culture that honors the power & importance of our older members.  It's easy to see how we got into such a mess & imperative to change our ways or face the consequences.  

Mine is the first generation to experience the separation of ages rather than the mingling & meshing.  It wasn't easy having Grandma or Grandpa living with a family, having to provide a room for Aunt Maisie who never married, but gifts were exchanged through the trials & tribulations as well as the high times & happy moments that accompanied providing them a home.  

Years & years ago, on one of the police t.v. dramas, a young Latino detective was stunned by an All-American colleague's dither about what to do with his elcerly in-laws.  "We'd just throw a carpet down in the garage & turn it into an apartment," he marveled.  I was a young adult when that episode of whatever aired, I just saw it one time, but that line & the look on the young officer's face is wth me still. 

Today, it's a greater challenge for a family to provide a safe space for an older relative.  There often isn't a younger adult in the house all day, no one around to be there for an elderly relative.  

Today, it often takes a community to provide the support that family once provided.  It can require a lot of different people to provide the life support once offered through a younger female relative - managing meds & chauffeuring, social time & meals.  

Most people focus on what is in front of us, on what exists - a reality where separating out our olders is the most convenient (to everyone) thing to do, but not the best.  Not for them, not for us, not for our communities & culture.

Perhaps the reason I hold the vision of something different healthier better is because it was NOT easy having Mom in my life 24/7/365.  It was HARD, on so many levels.  It almost tore me apart.  Came really close. Two ministers - MINISTERS, and one a bishop! - told me that I had to get out, to live my own life.  But I couldn't.  It was more than the vision in my heart & teachings in my head of children being there for their parents. It was a vision of being there for anyone in need of help that I can provide - another vision that was apparently part of my original operating instructions.

At this moment in time, I am filled with a vision of a community of elders who interact on a regular, daily basis with youngers.  That's a tall order to tackle.  Well, not so much if I think globally & act locally.  Whether it is Rydal Park or Cairnwood Village, there are communities of older friends right in my own back yard that I can work with & for.  

Big changes are happening at Cairnwood Village as its leadership changes hands from Khary King Allen to Paige Gunther Austin.  Different strengths, different dynamics, different vision.  


There IS great power in having a vision, in holding it in your heart, in honoring its value enough that you finally make it happen.  But it comes with terrible responsibility - when it is YOUR vision, there's no shrugging it off onto someone else's shoulders.  You are its steward guardian champion, no one else.  Oh no - more sleepless nights ahead, pondering that one.

it should be spelled "DUHiary"

Like very other American kid, I was raised to make sure I got at least four glasses of milk - preferably whole - a day.  Could have been a poster child for the American Dairy Council!

Why let a little thing like, ya know... FACTS get the way.  Turns out, the only critters who are supposed to be drinking milk are calves.  You don't see a full-grown cow trying to suckle milk.  It doesn't make sense for humans, either.

Why do infants & kittens & calves drink suckle?  Reason #1:  mother's milk is enriched with all sorts of good stuff - like proteins, vitamins & antibodies - that help give babies a better shot at surviving infancy & beyond.   And the fat helps them quickly pack on weight, also increasing their odds for survival.  

Okay, that explains why a baby drinks milk.  Why a youngster, a teen, a young adult, an oldster?  

Just like cats, humans were NOT designed to drink milk. The plan was that after we weaned, H2O would literally be our water of life.  Up until about 7,500 years ago, our older-kid & grown-up bodies were lactose intolerant.  We gradually developed the capacity to drink milk without getting sick.  Drinking milk did have major advantages - it helped supply vitamin D & calcium, was an incredibly more reliable source of protein- and calorie-rich foods than hunting/gathering & seasonal crops, and less easily contaminated than water supplies.  It was, in a word, convenient.  Yes, milk was the first convenient fast food.

For all it's convenience & all the advantages it gave the people who drank it - packed on more heft, developed healthier bones, was more reliable & came in a package that could ultimately be killed for it's meat - the original plan never designated humans as milk drinkers.  And for a good reason.  With all the advantages dairy brought to our lives, it had & has more draw backs than blessings. 

Well, it was never all that smart, at least in the long run.  Dairy has been pegged as one of the worst foods for causing inflammation, second only to gluten. Yuck - it causes all sorts of nasties, from bloating & gas to constipation & diarrhea, as well as acne!  

"Who's got milk?"  More like, "Who was bamboozled by the American Dairy Council!" 

Many reasons have been put forward for why being able to drink fresh milk should be such an advantage. For example, milk can compensate for the lack of sunlight and synthesis of vitamin D in skin at more northern latitudes, since vitamin D is required for calcium absorption and milk provides a good dietary source of both nutrients. Milk also provides a calorie- and protein-rich food source, comes in a relatively constant supply compared to the boom-and-bust of seasonal crops, and would have been less contaminated than water supplies.

Read more at: http://phys.org/news170657572.html#jCp

Many reasons have been put forward for why being able to drink fresh milk should be such an advantage. For example, milk can compensate for the lack of sunlight and synthesis of vitamin D in skin at more northern latitudes, since vitamin D is required for calcium absorption and milk provides a good dietary source of both nutrients. Milk also provides a calorie- and protein-rich food source, comes in a relatively constant supply compared to the boom-and-bust of seasonal crops, and would have been less contaminated than water supplies.

Read more at: http://phys.org/news170657572.html#jCp

Many reasons have been put forward for why being able to drink fresh milk should be such an advantage. For example, milk can compensate for the lack of sunlight and synthesis of vitamin D in skin at more northern latitudes, since vitamin D is required for calcium absorption and milk provides a good dietary source of both nutrients. Milk also provides a calorie- and protein-rich food source, comes in a relatively constant supply compared to the boom-and-bust of seasonal crops, and would have been less contaminated than water supplies.


Read more at: http://phys.org/news170657572.html#jCp

no time to dither - Cooper, Keeper of the Gardens

How fabulous to be 62 & have a bounty of things to get done, things that matter more than anything I've worked on before.  The universe has totally cracked open, like a glorious pinata.  Took lots of whacks, by lots of people.  Now, it's up to me to scoop up the awaiting goodies.

Get goosebumps from the spectrum of things awaiting my attention, from little kids to wonderful elders.  My hope is that Cooper's story will appeal to that full range of readers.  It would be such a lovely book to have in the cathedral book room.  Ideal to do it through Fountain Publishing, but self-publish if need be.  A fun way to introduce children to the cathedral gardens!  Have to find the just-right illustrator - who can capture the beauty of the flowers, keeping Cooper & the church in the background.  (To Cooper, the cathedral is just a backdrop for his gardens.)  

For the first time since I started writing it, back in 2008, know that it WILL happen. 

Below is a preliminary draft.  I am not a gardener, so need to get input from Danielle O or Mary T for particulars.  The series will include each of the seasons & introduce siblings who live at Glencairn & Cairnwood, plus their parents at the sweet little house by the itty bitty pond.  
  

Cooper, Keeper of the Gardens

by Deev                       

(2nd draft)

Cooper slowly opened one eye, then the other. 

He had slept well into the light, snugged back into a sound slumber by the warmth of the morning sun and the soft zoom of bees buzzing among the flowers that surrounded and covered him.  He had only meant to take a quick cat nap, but could tell by the fall of the sun’s rays that it was later than he’d planned. 

Getting up slowly, Cooper arched his back so high, he looked like a furry, upside-down U!  Streeetching out his front paws toward the bright morning sun, he peeked out from his hiding place in his favorite garden.  Most people could pass right by without spotting him, his golden stripes hidden by the bushy leaves of his beloved _________________.

Cooper was happy.  It was his favorite day of the entire week.  There was no time to dilly dally - he was late getting ready for the very best 2-legs in his whole wide world! 

Cautiously putting one paw onto the sandstone pathway, almost as if testing a woodland stream, then another, Cooper carefully emerged from the sanctuary of ____________ and _______________.

He moved over to a nice patch of pathway partially covered by green stalks, bent low with the weight of their ___________ blossoms.  Although he was late, Cooper took time to carefully and thoroughly made sure that every strand of fur that could reached by his scratchy tongue was groomed and glistening.  

Time might be short, but Cooper wanted to look his best when his 2-legs arrived with their sturdy gloves, sharp diggers and soft voices. 

He looked over to the tall building with soaring spires.  It was, Cooper admitted, beautiful, although he thought its lovely stonework and pretty colored windows were nowhere near as wonderful as the gardens he cared for throughout the year, even in the very cold months when his 2-legs stopped coming every week. 

Cooper admitted that it was soothing in pleasant weather to curl up on a wooden bench under the ___________ trees and soak in the music that poured out from a small open door, or hear the muffled refrains when all the doors were closed against rain or chilling weather. He enjoyed singing along with the voices that raised themselves every week.  

Still, to Cooper everything – the tall building with soaring spires, the beautiful music, the 2-legs who came and went every day – was there to serve as a backdrop for his gardens. 

With no scent of his friends yet on the light breeze, Cooper took a brisk inspection tour of his gardens.  Each was so different, each offering a special delight to his eyes, nose and even his body.  Always, he was leaving his most beloved garden for last.

Cooper started with the woodland garden, an enchanting crisscross of narrow paths overhung with great looming bushes and trees that seem to reach to the sky.  He loved the feel of the soft dirt under his paws, the gentle birdsong from the ____________ that made the garden their home, the strong low-laying bush branches that seemed to invite long, leisurely rubs against their bark.   

Emerging from the semi-darkness of the garden, he skirted his way around the small plant-edged lawn and across to the ________ garden nestled between the driveway and the tall building with the soaring spires.     

Suddenly, Cooper froze.  He heard the sound of little 2-legs running around on the lush green lawn.  

Cooper slung through the ___________ and _____________ of the next garden.  He did everything he could to go unnoticed.  Their hands might be small, but they were powerful when they grabbed his tail or pulled his tender ears, and when they tried to pick him up, their big ones would shoo HIM away, like he wanted to be wrapped by little arms that hugged too tight. 

Passing between the ___________ and the chilly stonewall of the tall building with soaring spires, he moved carefully, quietly to the space between the big glass door and the welcoming steps, nipped down along the path that led to his favorite view - a long hill dropping away to a small valley edged with meadows that swooped up to rolling hills.  

In the distance, way down at the end of the long hill, he heard the sharp bark of a dog.  (When it came to dogs, Cooper and the 2-legs that came and went every day were in complete agreement – dogs were not permitted anywhere near his gardens, not even on a leash!)

There wasn’t have time to jump up onto the stone bench nestled into the hillside.  Instead, Cooper did a quick inspection of the ________________ and ______________.  It was one of the smallest gardens, but quietly spectacular, overlooking the gracious valley and rolling hills beyond. 

Cooper seemed to glide down the stone steps to the path that skirted along the hill top.  He walked calmly and sedately toward a small copse of elegant white-blossomed trees that lead to a graceful wooden bench.  

This garden never failed to move Cooper deeply, whatever the season.  Whether heavy with springtime blossoms or spare in winter’s chill, he never failed to drop his sleek head in reverence as he walked the path between the rows of  trees.  As he reached the end of the trees, a sound made his head come up and his heart race with happiness. 

Cooper skimmed along the path, leapt up a short flight of steps, then suddenly slowed down to a leisurely amble, trying to look like he had not noticed the two young female 2-legs chatting on a nearby bench, but he knew they’d spotted him by their coos and ahhhs.  

It took some convincing (or so he wanted it to seem) for them to lure Cooper over to where they sat.  He loved spending time with the 2-legs who often wandered over from the schools across the big busy road, especially the ones with gentle hands and soft voices.  As he rubbed his warm, soft fur against their legs, presenting his head for stroking and scratching, Cooper purred his deepest purr.  The 2-legs melted under his attentions.  

Just then, a familiar scent reached Cooper’s velvety nose.  His favorites had arrived!  And they were at his most beloved garden of all. 

With a final leg rub and swoosh of his tail, Cooper said his good byes, tore up a long flight of steps and dashed across the big lawn as fast as he could.  He didn’t care if his 2-legs saw how excited he was; one of the best things about their friendship was that he could be totally himself with them.

They were gathered at his most beloved garden, pulling on their sturdy gloves and taking out their sharp diggers.  A chorus of soft voices lifted to greet him.  

Cooper felt like he’d swallowed the sun, leaving him warm and glowing both inside and out.  He rubbed his groomed and glistening fur against each pair of legs, batting the loving hands reaching down to stroke his head, scritch his ears and rub under his chin. 

Greetings made and returned, it was time to settle down to work.  Cooper was a superb gardener.  He loved helping  dig out weeds, preparing soil for seedlings, even gently spreading compost to help the garden claim its full glory. 

Much as he loved working in all the gardens, none gave him the endless pleasure as his working in his most beloved spot.  Every so often, he paused to take in the heady combination of ____________, ____________, ______________ .  Looking at his friends, soaking it all in, he felt a sense of pure joy flow from the tip of his long elegant tail to the sharp nib of his claws and the velvety softness of his tender ears. 

Best of all was when everyone put down their sharp diggers, took off their sturdy gloves, and settled back for a sip and a nibble.  They’d pour a saucer of water just for him, seeming to take as much happiness in bringing special tidbits for him as he did savoring them.  Then, it was time to get back to work. 

The time always went faster than Cooper wanted. 

All too soon, his beloved 2-legs would take off their sturdy gloves, put away their sharp diggers, and give a farewell scritch behind his ears before making their goodbyes. 

Most, but not all.

As they did every week, one or two strolled with Cooper to his favorite view to settle down on the stone bench.

He basked in the moment, valley and rolling hills stretched out before him, warmed by the late morning sun and the friendship that connected paws, hands and hearts.

 

daily ritual

A couple weeks ago, I asked friends if they had a daily ritual as support in developing my own.  I've been reading a book about daily rituals, have checked out blogs.  This morning, as I grogged my way down to the bathroom, sensing the faint tracing of an atmospheric headache coming on, it smacked me right between the eyes - my gosh, I already know my daily ritual.  Have known it for over 30 years.  Just haven't opened the door  & welcomed it into my life.

There are five parts to my daily ritual, five parts that haven't changed over half my life.  My daily ritual starts the night before, getting to bed & lights out no later than 10:30 p.m.  Up at 5:30 a.m., my best time for rising, whatever the time of year.  Get dressed, go on a walk - whatever the weather.  Back home, change into yoga gear for three sets of breathing exercises (do another set mid day & one before bed, three sets of three).  Have a healthy breakfast, just setting in a quiet place.

That's it.  My daily ritual, waiting outside my door, as it's been doing for half my life.  Half life.  Yeah, it's time to start living a full one.  Time to open the door.  Hello!