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

G-dful

September sky is blue and clear. Autumn changes: the topmost leaves in our tree, Abundance Chai, are lightening/yellowing, littering the earth with golden, sun-light.

On this day- Receive the G-d presence on the right side of the heart. An audible gurgling, a breaking through a clog. And an emptiness, an aching. Thinking it Connects body to the spirit I have encountered through sight-the sun!- through sound- the bat Kol- through smell- L’airdetent.

So, my question is what one makes of the fact that our planet is hurtling, spinning, circling through space, around a star that is moving also, contrary to what I was taught in school, nothing is fixed/static. And as the child observes, the sun and the stars are one and the same.

Yesterday, limping along, weak and body fatigued from the MS (an active weekend takes it’s toll!) I said to my housemate, “well, I’m still standing!” And he laughed, and shared the quote, “Any day above ground is a good day.”
Weekend infused with spirit! Native American celebration and sweat lodge. Matoquiocin, to all my relations. Then Jewish Renewal gathering in the woods- again, my chevre!

All people, connected by love and kindness, and spirit! It is Elul- hear the clarion call of the shofar.  The time of T’shuva, reflection, returning… As we ready ourselves for the Jewish New Year!

Return again, return again, return to the light of your soul.
Return to who you are, return to what you are, return from where you are…born and reborn again.

A sturdy arm and a steadfast spirit. The chief supports you. The chief nourishes you, cooks for the tribe. The Rebbe teaches you, touches you, learns from you. The rabbi sings to you, inspires you. The child needs you, individuates from you, hugs you, ignores you. And you just keep on keeping on.

I got stuck conceptualizing what G-d is. An old man on a throne, an energy, the great No Thing (the Ain Sof). So I go back to chanting. Sheviti SHekina l’negdi tamid. (I place G-d before me always.) I feel one should be G-ful as well as mindful! ❤

Living in it

Low flying crow over my Southbound car.

Graying  praying mantis steps across the threshold of my front door As I open it from inside.

We find a perfect wild turkey feather just before the season opens,

and a tiny Tall magenta mushroom living under a wet fallen leaf. these are the days for bluejays in the compost pile, quick moving

clouds in the wind, and a half moon visible in the noontime sky it’s shadow autumn clarity. slow reaching sun chiding squirrels in transitioning trees we’re noticing the earlier evenings and we continue.

 

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

 

 

Water, earth, wind, fire

Repost from tumblr: Mindfulness MS

The heavenly blue morning glories that graced our garden for so long; blossoms big as the child’s hand at their peak, have died with the first frost, leaving but a brown, tangly reminder.

In 1995, 25 years old, and though long realized (9 years of remissions and recurrences), the grief I experienced when my mother died was overwhelming, more than I could handle- though handle it I did, and thus started my MS journey. Grief was my trigger for an illness I was hereditarily and karmically destined for

I’ve been engaging in dream work- keeping a dream journal since I was in my late teens, and exploring dreams in groups since I was in my mid-twenties. I don’t always remember my dreams because I have a three and a half year old who wakes up with me, but also because I enjoy ‘medical marijuana’ which I feel is unparalled for stiffness and tremors, and helpful with pain. But the jury’s still out on how good it is for balance, and not so good for memory.

So, these days dreams are a real treat to me, and instruct me loudly. Torsos have made an appearance lately. It’s changed the way I walk, my posture maybe, and my awareness of my body. As I’ve written, I work out thrice weekly at the gym. I’ve been doing this for a year and a half. It is an activity I enjoy but falls short in replacing hiking. It is from strengthening my core that I know I can hold up my body. Wobbly as my legs may be, trees teach that a strong center can weather any storm.

My other healing modalities of late are Water! Lately, my fluid intake is minimal- two even one glass of water each day. But every health advisor- either in person or by the written word- advocates for drinking more, more, more! 8 glasses a day. So, I have very recently started trying to do just this. (Excuse me while I take this opportunity to hydrate.) I look forward to seeing if this is helpful and healing.

These days, mantra brings me closer to the Divine. Chanting keeps me present in the moment. I’ve been saying/singing, “Manorah ha makom ha zeh…” in Shefa Gold’s melody. These are the words Jacob speaks on the night he wrestles with the angel. “G-d was in this place and I did not know it.” Transpose ‘G-d’ to any life giving, awe-inspiring affirmation. I did not open myself up to the divine guidance in this moment.

And the other thing on my mind a lot of late is the beginning of the fire building season, I’m anticipating getting splinters in my hands from the wood stove all winter long! I’ve heated with wood for over 20 years now (from the wilds of New Mexico, the mountains of Colorado, Lake country in N.J, bear country in Mass., and now (home for 16 years, the Mid-Hudson Valley of New York State.) Fire warms, soothes, occasionally gives messages (see previous post), and is so very messy! The autumn wind keeps blowing the doors open and the sun is streaming in the kitchen windows. As a younger woman, I learned that life is like a river. Your past is that which flows away from you, your future is that which flows towards you, and you are standing in the water.

And so I walk to the stream on the side of our house. It is my physical therapy. Drop foot, walking stick, and balance issues aside, I am setting myself the goal of walking in an M.S. walk on May 4, 2014. By that time, in my sterling imagination, I should be capable, competent, healed of all mobility issues and this illness that manages to challenge me immensely. The terrain is uneven, rocky. The fallen leaves have make it slippery and slick, but the water is cool, flowing from yesterday’s rains, and musical, and here stand I. HiNeni

 

Twilight

The sun crosses the sky, earth rolls away from the sun

Like tulips openning and closing in day and dark

I open and close

Because she is so impersonal, ama d’a alah, the Great Mother

Through her fire, she renews the garment world each night

I breathe in, she breathes out

Grasping the copper vessel from my hands

Like a shadow-fox

Slipping between sound, and the smell of spilt ceremony tea

She is the Queen in the field, lighting the altar candle

A yellow warbler flies in the temple window

A stone heart lays hidden in the soft moss

Growing stars, and florets, and clover

The blue- expansive sky

The illuminating, deeply familiar dream of the black spider

In this place, in a velvet chair, in her infernal grace

The wakeful world has presence

I sit in her door way, the mouth covered with leaves

Trees in the wind creak- like an openning door

by, Yiskah Koock

 

Wounded Dreamer

Repost from Tumbler blog: Mindfulness MS

There is a word in Sanskrit, ‘amorock’, that means the wounded healer. This archetype that Carl Jung wrote about has been extrapolated by his student, “to be at home in the darkness of suffering and there to find (gems) of light and recovery with which, as though by enchantment, to bring forth Asclepius, the sun like healer.”  Asklepious himself, is a dream healer of Ancient Greece.

And tonight we light the first candle to remember and honor Chanukah. Recovery next? We can always aim for healing. I blew my top today- not at anyone, but just yelled in frustration in general. It felt good, emptying, but still a bit like defeat. I am striving to meet life’s challenges with more equilibrium. I see this illness is teaching me balance, too. What else? Compassion for others who suffer, empathy for those who are living a challenging journey. Prayers, blessings, well-wishings for those who might need them, presence with self in this moment. Tired though I be, the end of the evening is in sight.

It is Thanksgiving time. I feel we should be thankful at all times, even for our struggles. It is not always easy. The physical body offers more challenges, and more lessons, than we would otherwise be able to accrue There is no place like the Earth in this multi-verse (as dream teacher, Robert Moss calls it.)

To witness extreme generosity (of time and talent) at the Repair Café of New Paltz, was heartening, where people volunteered to brighten the day of strangers and neighbors. The turtle lamp lives on, my favorite black cotton sack has 2 connected straps again, and the tear Levi made in the upholstered couch cushion is mended. Then, I am called forth to ‘pay it forward.’ By being our best selves, we encourage our best selves to shine forth. This, the month of gratitude. I’ve never taken on the practice of stating a reason for being thankful each day of November, but I love to read people’s posts, and I do strive to be grateful always.

It is quite amazing how far one can go out on a limb, and have it not crack! I wrote of ‘the breaking point’ in a previous post. When the tree pushes through the rock on the shale beach, and grows towards the sun. Is that what we can expect? Soldier through your life, courageous and inspired, and rise in the light- hopefully, within this lifetime. I used to say about life that I am on the accelerated path. But I didn’t then know what was in store. The long illness and much too early passing of my mom, the illness my grief would allow into my brain and body.  I would hike in the amethyst mine behind my house in the Rocky mountains of Colorado after my mother’s death and wish to be struck by lightning- an act of G-d that would end my suffering. Instead of ending my suffering, it opened a door to walk through- the optic neuritis was my first symptom on this journey of MS. But I know that even if we cannot consciously choose our hurdles, we can decide what attitude to bring into our stride. Positive thinking is key! Kindness, for self and other, bravery and faith. Similar to lucid dreaming, though we are not choosing the images, symbols, nor story line, we do respond, awake in the dream time! I can choose to gallop my dream horse, lance in hand to slay the dragon that has been terrorizing the village and claim the virgin bride.

I can choose to see illness as a path of learning and dance, and I write poetry from the images of dream. As my teacher Robin Larsen says, these are the ”gifts from the land of dream”.

The Dance

In elegant elipses, he leads me                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          With a sturdy arm, an upright spine, a graceful gait                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      Gently to the pianist’s evocation of beauty                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           He is dying, and I am dying, he is accepting, and I am resigned                                                                                                                                                                                                                         The parquayed floor is round- and diners clink their glasses                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  At the dance, we are very much alive]

by, Yiskah Koock

Wind is sailing through the branches and last leaves of the trees. The bright moon wanes , and ever an honor to chart the passing of time by. I had my first appointment with my new neurologist today. Off to a very positive start! He’s affirming of how I treat this illness, has great energy and is positive about the healing potential that can grace this situation. I feel hopeful- and that, I think is the greatest thing a doctor can give to a patient. My previous neurologist said to me, “If you are not going to follow my advice on what medicine you should be on, what do you need from me?” I answered, “Moral support.” That is what I received today, and for this too, I am Thankful.