Life’s Living Conversation

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!

Breath

This MS pain is great I’m not complaining I’m just explaining. So great it can stop me in my tracks. At first I Bear Down grit my teeth and soldier my way through,  next I take it as a road sign to think about G-d to pray, to chant to/about the Shekkina.

Shiviti Shekkina l’negdi Tamid (I place the nurturing presence of G-d before me always!

Then I try to move it move it, move my arm, move my shoulder around, alleviate the pain. I try medical marijuana to dull the pain. I cry out to G-d in the heights of those moments- but weather the storm. Now the pain has moved from my shoulder and as I expressed in last post it’s also in my jaw and also on the right side of my heart chakra, and it seems to be traveling down my right arm…

And incredibly, the tool I’ve/we’ve been taught for many years: breathing deeply, taking deep breaths- in through the nose,  is what alleviates the pain and directly! Awesome that an action running through the body is what can sooth the symptoms from an auto immune disease. The body can heal as well as defy itself!

Reminding me that the healing remedy often time grows alongside the plant that causes discomfort. Next to poison ivy grows jewel weed! And plaintain in the clover fields alleviates the bees stings who are attracted to the clover flowers.

Yes, this is an intelligent universe!

The olfactory sense is what connects us straight to the soul, so the Jewish sages teach. And just as G-d formed the body out of clay, and breathed in through the nostrils the holy breath of life! The breath of G-d, our healing lives here-in!

Now we find ourselves in the Days of Awe, between the Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashana, and the day of atonement, Yom Kippor. This is the time for T’shuvah, T’fillah, and Tzedaka. Returning- to your soul, to your path, to yourself, to G-d. Prayer- crying out to the divine, and coming to reconciliation with others on the earth, and the earth herself. And charity- giving with a full heart.

We had an opportunity to cast our past year’s transgressions into flowing water to have it’s own mikvah of purification. Into the mayim chayim, the living waters during the Tashlique service.

When the prophet Isaiah instructs the people to atone for their sins, he says, seek G-d when G-d is close! And G-d is especially close on these 10 Days of Awe. So, my petition is thus, just as Moses cried out to G-d to heal his sister Miriam when she was struck ill, I too cry out for healing- for myself, for my loved ones, and for all who seek healing. Most of all, healing for the Earth, herself!

Ana Elna R’fanala~ R’fuah sh’layma!! (Body, soul, and spirit!)

L’Shanah Tova!

 

Breath

Sitting on the earth in a circle of musicians

Mountains of colored clay crumble into sand

I am holding and playing my clay ocarina

And the melody is mournful and familiar

Woman of clay and earth, creased and crumbling

A willing compnion until the end of days

Another is remarking that my clay ocarina must feel honored

It’s been sitting on the altar all these years

by, Yiskah Koock

The Healing Path

Repost: Tumblr, Mindfulness MS

“It’s heroic, what you do,” he says as I am cooking turkey meat balls, from Jacks Meats and Swiss chard from the garden. It feels good to be seen by my partner, but tears through my denial. M.S. is a struggle.

Household tasks that might take anyone a short time, are monumental for me. Folding a shirt with only my left hand, cutting- moving the knife from one hand to the other- to see which one is more efficient.

17 years with this dis-ease, and I’m tired by the evening, so why do I sometimes push myself?) I have enough energy to make a meal, do bedtime with Lev, practice simple yoga and the exercises I learned inphysical therapy, and a second wind will allow me to enjoy time together with my husband. I see that Imust continue taking care of myself with the tools I have:

For best health, it seems I should do the M.S. diet as per Dr. Terry Wahls prescription for healing, and I will, soon… but there was a farm, community dinner last night. Mexican lasagna with tomatilla sauce(that me and the boys shucked and cut), home-made whipped cream on Hudson Valley grown freshbaked apples! Shall that be my last supper of eating wheat? Tomorrow give up dairy? I so try to stay away from dairy, also because I have a food allergy to it, and it brings me pain, and I get bloated. I have almond milk in my morning granola and coconut milk ice cream. But I have cow milk in my coffee (and coffee) daily. I think I’ll go back to raw milk, as the only other cream that mixes in well is camel milk, and I can’t afford those riches. Sugar is also a substance I’m advised to give up. But I’m a dip your toe in thewater and acclimate kind of person- so for now wheat and most dairy will have to do.

Diet and exercise go hand and hand. I’ve written in these blog posts about my commitment to working out my body at the gym. I also walk down to the stream regularly. Listening to the music of the wate watching Lev’s joy and ability, we marvel at the young tree that has pushed its way through the rock, alongside the path. I wonder at what is the splitting point.

Tonight begins my mother’s 18th  yartzeit (anniversary of death). I’ve been given the directive to reflect on which ways her vibrant self fills me.

How do I remember thee, mommy?

Beauty, first and foremost on the outside, and in. A love of writing poetry. A great mom (a lofty but well deserved accolade), quick to laughter, a beautiful smile that lights others up. A warm heart…

Rudolf Steiner indicates that when a person crosses the threshold of death, they must shed all of their earthly talents and gifts. We who are open to receive, make a good target.

I stand under Abundance maple tree as the leaves rain down in the autumn wind. An old Jewish teaching says that G-d’s finger guides the path of every falling leaf. What this teaches is, such is the way for every human being. Take Heart! We are not in this alone, we are accompanied, and our lives are a living conversation with a responsive universe!

It is windy. Branches are falling. Birds are calling out. Trucks are roaring up the road. Katy is purring. And, as I said, I am tired, but I’ve done errands in town, brought in firewood, harvested in the garden, prepared dinner, and even made time to write! I look forward to snuggling up to my nighttime dreams.

(I’ll explore the importance to dream work to me more fully in future posts), Lila Tov.

Autumn poet-tree:

 

Just Caterpillar

Forget about the one-day transformation

The ability for emergence in flight

The nectar eating, egg laying, flutter-breezing freedom!

You, in all your fuzzy potential

With nowhere to go

Crunching leaves, and crawling belly-down

Are just caterpillar

by, Yiskah Koock