Riding my mobility scooter up the paved path, along the Ashokan Reservoir. Gorgeous here in the Mid Hudson Valley, with the Catskill Mountains encircling this body of water. So many monarch butterflies fluttering in the breeze, over the water. Knowing that this is a nesting place for bald eagles, I am hoping to see a bald eagle, the totem animal that has meant the most to me in my dream life, and in my waking world. But not wanting to exercise expectation. And he comes. An adolescent, gracing my eyes and the skies with his presence. It is Yom Kippur, a fast day, the day of atonement, where we pray to be forgiven, to forgive, to forgive oneself which for me this year has been Paramount, and to be sealed in the “Book of Life.”
I lost my dog last Saturday, on Shabbes Tshuva. The holy Sabbath of our return to our essence, to the G-d presence. Return again, return again, return to the light of your soul. So hard to let go of a beloved friend after 13 years. So loyal and protective, so smart and loving! I felt him slip away into the universe. From almost no determinable breath but still warm, to losing the warmth of life, and becoming cool to the touch. What an honor and a blessing to be able to have my hands on his body, in his fur, as he crossed the threshold.
So my grief has been deep, I am grateful for our new kittens in our lives who are helping me heal.
And yesterday was the autumnal equinox. Striving for balance. Reaffirming myself to the work I have yet to complete in this lifetime. No more fog of sadness and disability. Time to rally, time to write, time to work.
Although I always try to stay positive and optimistic, there are times that life is hard and unforgiving, and I forgive myself for feeling the strain of living. Remembering life is a great gift! And our challenges are chosen by us to overcome in this school called earth.
I converse with nature, as I have often said, life is a living conversation with a responsive universe!
Butterflies for transformation, as the Choctaw tradition teaches. They seem so delicate, but are strong enough to fly to Mexico from the US! I can learn so much from the butterfly!
No longer Just Caterpillar. She has blossomed from her Chrysalis. Have I? I feel a transformation. Where once I was just Catapillar, and wrote a poem about it.
Just Caterpillar
Forget about the one day transformation
The ability for emergence in flight
The nectar drinking, egg laying, flutter breezing freedom
You, in all your fuzzy potential
With nowhere to go
Crunching leaves, and crawling belly down
Are just Caterpillar
Now spread your wings and trust that the breeze will carry you in the right direction, where you need to go. Trust that even in your delicateness, you are sturdy enough to embark on this journey! That is a renewed faith. Always praying for healing for self and others, trusting the unfolding, and now recognizing that only I can do my work. Only you can do your work. Nobody is going to do it for me or you. As Rabbi Tarfon in the fourth century said, “The work is not for you to finish, but neither are you exempt from trying”.
And here is a great work that has been all encompassing in my life, as you may know, I have been struggling with multiple sclerosis for 22 years. My prayer is to heal completely, and my faith is strong! I am on a new medication called Ocrevice. It is an infusion that has potential to not only halt disease progression but possibly to alleviate symptoms as well. But my great hope of course is to reclaim lost functioning and I think through stem cell treatment that will be possible, but it is a relatively new medical technology, and remains to be seen. Recently somebody asked me, if you stayed just where you are In your disability without further disease progression, could you live with that?
So it is making me take stock in where I am today. My walking is hampered. I often drag my right foot behind me because it is difficult to lift at the right knee, and also I have drop foot. My equilibrium is off kilter. My right hand is quite compromised. But perhaps if it didn’t progress any further than this, I could live this way.., Though it would take greater acceptance of my handicap for me . So the answer to that question is yes, that would be a great blessing. Still I hold my deeper hope that I can hike again! Hiking for me was time to cry out to God, Hitbodedut, A term coined by Rabbi Nachman, the great grandson of the Bal Shem Tov, The founder of Chassidut. Hiking is my time to write poetry, and repeat it line for line as in the rhythm of my walking so that I remember the poem enabling me to recall it later as I transcribe it into the written word, and to share it as spoken word poetry. Taking stock in my work that I have yet to embark on. Glad to be writing, as always. Hope to go to open mic nights as I had done 25 years ago. And going to share ideas in a spoken forum in a new podcast called The Stream, with Dr. Carla Mazzeo. Stay tuned. Many good things to come. Now what will you do to further your journey? I look very forward to seeing!
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