Flat Out

                   

                                 Throw'd Off and flat out.........

Most of us know those words.... we use flat out a lot.  Laid up is another.  Laid up in the bed. Squalling.  Setting on the porch.  I'm always "fixing to..."  after I reckon something.
I thought about the list too.  Like Mindy's.  
Things have been flat out and throw'd for a while.  Too long.  Word prompts sometimes press a button with me.  Intertwined pushed me over the edge I was teetering on.  Throw'd off and flat out for 4 or 5 days, enough for me to tell my Dr. my concern about my well being.
My mental health.  My spiritual life went to hell months ago.  It's getting better.  
I needed another round of stems.  I caved in and let them put a line in.  It was a good choice this time.  Cramped my water time, but the weather turned as foul as my mood and it didn't matter.  They pulled my line this past friday.  
I'm tired.  Still.... weary.  
I'm tired of people I love and care about getting sick. 
Tired of people I love and care about dying.  2 suicides in a month.
Tired of bitchy judgmental women.
Shame, fear, punishment and guilt.
Tired of grief.
Tired of the disgusted feeling I have when I look at my kitchen table and all the things piled up there and I am too paralyzed to clear it off.  Ditto the computer desk.
Tired of getting blind sided by crap... and it is just that-crap. Nonsense.
Tired of feeling sad.
Tired.  

I read things that give me some pause.  Diane's John numbering the days..... reminds me of the Psalm... then I think counting is a good thing.  

And the day my intertwined rope with the ball on the end of tangled mess just flat out fell off, after I had asked Papa something... I thought damn, fast answer.  I could see the ends of this beautiful twist looked like they had been cut.  And it was then realized the door had opened.  I had let go of some of the things that throw'd me off in my relationship with the old boyfriend.  I let him go... I had been busy building walls to protect myself.... another distraction to keep me from doing what I needed to be doing.  The insistent debate in my head over staying here or going to Virginia or both.  Not wanting to be here.  Not wanting to be here at all... not wanting to be anywhere.  Not wanting to be.  

Yet knowing somehow that no matter how many times I get throw'd off, I get back up.  Even if only to my knees.  I'm not so eager to stand anymore when my self tells me sit.  
Reading last weeks notes from everyone pressed my sense of frustration, not with myself, but for you all.  Because we all have a voice and we all need to be heard.  Especially when it comes to our bodies and choices in health care.  The decisions we make have long term effects.  There are options and like every thing else we have a right to say No.  And if we say yes, we have a right to change our minds.  One of my close friends here messaged me the other night, she's having surgery this week in Tampa, same as Diane.  They found it when they took her appendix out.. which wasn't her appendix it was a tumor.  

I'm rambling, I don't care.  It's as much as I can spit out without falling apart yet again.

Wordless Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday

                                The Third Weekend of July
                      The Best Of What's Around

Every year... it's what I live for, it is for us... it's a girls weekend and includes this guy....

DJM

And I almost always volunteer for either Reverb or Rock the Earth... I love Rock The Earth.

They rock me....

It's a weekend of staying up late, singing until you lose your voice, and because it's the dead of summer, losing 10 lbs of water weight from sweating.  We shoot for the best seats we can get.

We stay at the hotel where the band stays... because it's part of the whole weekend and because it's fun.  Even though I live 20 minutes away... we still do that.  

Somewhere in my photos is the hotel.  Which in itself is the creme off the top.  I know a lot of people who will travel to see the band numerous times and go to great lengths to see them... cross country.

For me I am content with this ONE weekend. Once a year. With my girlfriends.  It's what we do.  And it's enough to hold me until next year.  It's the all out unspoken permission to be crazy time, that we as adults maybe don't or won't allow ourselves to be or do.  It is for me... that cut loose time..  

It's drinking in the bar at 2 a.m (me-coffee) Dave-beer, with the guys... forgetting to put underwear on because your girlfriends are yelling to hurry up!!!  It's the first impression of how soft his hands really are... how funny he is... It's coffee with Timmy talking about drunks and laughing.  It's a smile, the endless laughter, and eyeballing the girlfriend you love, praying she doesn't barf on your flip flops.  It's getting up early to swim, room service and meeting people from all over, you have only met online through other friends and instantly you know them... because they are part of a larger family..

It is listening to a group of men, sing close enough to almost everyone's life story, at one time or another... and they love the crowd and the crowd loves them back.  It's mesmerizing.  It's a high, no drug or alcohol can induce...

It is that once in a lifetime weekend, we do every year.... 

This is Sugar Man shot in South Africa last month.  It's a first for him even though he was born there, the first time the band toured there.  Sugar Man was written and recorded by Sixto Rodriquez who left the US to live in South Africa...he's a legend in his own right.

Saying something about David, he is a father, a husband, a talented musician songwriter.  He donates his time and money to multiple charities.  He's changed the way many concert venues serve, dispose of and use the ecosystem... His impact on recycling alone is significant.  He worries about what he will leave behind for his children... what kind of world.  And in what shape.  He's a soft, yet wild man... he's not alone in the band.. he isn't even really the backbone.. they function as a unit... they move together in one beautiful flow.. mistakes turn into a new song... that's a good lesson for all of us..

As he said... 

See you and me
Have a better time than most can dream
Have it better than the best

And if nothing can be done

We'll make the best of what's around

Fifty Seven

This is the way it looks to me.  I don't always like what I see.  I look and see how the last year has taken a toll on me... it shows in my face.  My eyes.  No one notices.  I do.

It took me 50 years to like the way I looked. Yes, I was always that pretty blonde... but my sense of discomfort came from my growing up hearing, you're too fat, too short, too.... too everything... and nothing of that "too" was ever good.  You reach a point in your life where it doesn't matter... but, you still don't love yourself.  That for me came at 50.  When surrounded by people of all shapes, sizes, ages, and looking mostly like the circus was in town (not kidding) after spending the a couple months on the beach in St Pete... I looked around one day and said, "Lori, all these people are happy. What's wrong with you?"  
From that moment on I learned to love my tummy.

And the rest of me.  I hear now... you're too thin... too this, too that... "I'll fatten you up"  I'm not a farm animal...  I know I need to put on ten pounds.
I also know how out of shape I am... and you will look at me and think "you have got to be joking??"  No, I'm not.. I need exercise.. like we all do... I need it because it helps my body... not so I can look good... it's healthier for me..  
I am lean... I have never been a large person... I will be always be short.  
Does it really matter?  I look at people when they say these things.. and wonder... through my squinted eyes... "what the hell are you really saying?"
What sort of vision of me do you have, since you really don't know me...
judged by appearance. 

I didn't intend for this to sound like this... it's my temporary fugue state this week....  
I'm going to add a couple more photos... I'm going to preface them by saying I hate having my photo taken... much less take myself.... however... some of them are fun.... for me....

What beach hair really looks like

Oh yes and naked... 

The End... 

Love

Sometimes love looks different when your older...

I got this note today, that he asked me this morning to remind him to tell me of something he thought of at 4:30 a.m driving home from taking his son to the airport.  He said it was about he and I.  Us he said.  I really didn't know what to expect.

What I got surprised me


 **Ok, this is kinda heavy duty(at least for me it was)-I was thinking how great it was that we got back in touch and how wonderful you are to me and what a cruel twist of fate it would be that now I finally found my happiness and just as we're to get together all the stuff you're fighting with in your physical life snatches you away from! It freaked me out and I got to talking to God about "it ain't right after all I've put up with and all you've been through too! It was just such a scarey thought!**


We talked a little about it after he sent that.  He was afraid to say anything because he worried that I would badly of his projecting my death.. I said oh you know me better.

I asked him what God said back to him.. after he signed off and went to sleep. In the morning there will likely be an answer..

My response to him was in part things we had already talked about, but in fragments... why after all these years.. and how it was a gift for both of us.  It's not only the remembering what was then, but that there is love that never changes... I loved that boy..all those years ago... and because of both our lives, while in tandem were going to end up going in different directions.. there was a peaceful parting.  I talked to him before I got married to tell him. He was happy for me.  

There was always a place of residence in my heart for him... just because... it was that unconditional love that is so rare and so hard to find and truly is a gift.  And that is what we have today.  That no matter, we still have that.

What prompted that fear thought was that my kidneys were in trouble last week, I had a rough week.  I didn't tell him, but mentioned something last night about having a meltdown, to which he inquired the nature thereof, and I could never lie to this guy, I can't soft soap or fool him.... that's how well he knows me.  And how well I know him.
I just hit the highlights, but he's smart enough to know what it all meant.  Thus his thought process this morning and getting little sleep too.

And for love... I don't know..not anymore.  I thank God this man, that boy who I fell so hard for so many years ago, is a man who talks to God... and who listens.  He was a gift then and he still is.  It is that.. one thing that in life, is unconditional.  Like God's love for us, that we have so much trouble accepting... so many people can't even look at it... for fear they are not worthy.  If I am loved by God as I know that I am, then I can turn with that love to someone else, and give them that very same thing.  That's is what we are called to do.  I didn't say it was easy... but it's a gift... and when you ask God for something and he hands you a box wrapped up all neatly and lovely... and your hands are open and receiving. And he places that gift in your hands and says to you..here's the deal...  he's part of the package.  It does give you pause... oh yes it does... but oh is it worth it.. yes. On both.

Things

Things... the word for the week... and I sit here laughing at how many times I have thought of that word this past week.

Things imply to me a word of broad coverage... somewhat equal to "stuff"... we use things as a word to described almost any"thing".  "How are things?"  One day I will say "Which things?"  There are many things.

There are things we have, treasures, trinkets, clothes, shoes, dishes, tangible things.

Then there are the semi tangible.. in the realm of stuff... things that we deal with, think, have to do, don't want to do, are asked about, don't talk about.  Just things... things we put off, set aside or simply ignore.

Sometimes people treat others as things.  Yes, and we have all done it... we look at them and think; "you are just one more thing."  Moreover, we look at ourselves and say those exact same words... knowing fully well, that we are that one thing that needs the most and gets the least.  Because  of stuff... things.  We include ourselves quite often in the scheme of things.  

And how many times have we used:

Things didn't quite go the way I planned..

I couldn't/didn't/ et al because I had things to......

Some things don't matter  (and yes they do, those things matter the most)

I just had things to do and didn't get to...

Things aren't looking good...

I have no thing to wear, eat, do, say, fill in your own blank

The list is endless... what's on your mind?  Oh stuff.. things...   really?  And what things are those?

Please elaborate on your things.... sometimes when you do, you get a little peek inside yourself.

And suddenly things take on a different appearance.

The Waiting Is The ...........

                      Waiting

For a while I waited for myself to catch up to me... I was trailing or dragging far behind myself.  I caught up. Then found myself waiting again. Not sure what for, just in wait.

Historically, I have never been patient.. one of the things my Rector and I discussed privately while I was going through discernment 12 years ago was my need to slow it down... and I had already slowed down... but to gear down even more.  That I have done.  Patience in waiting pays off. 

It helped me sit still for two years waiting for my house to sell, so I could move back home, the first year spent in dread that I would die up there like everyone else did.  But the voice said Trust me, so I did... and while waiting there were still things I needed to learn, to accept.  To look at.  

I waited to get well.. a long time... this last year has been the hardest, not only with the health things but personal issues as well... and those too require patient waiting and to simply stand still and stand right in the middle of it all.

And life to me often looked like this

no end in sight....

I am still struggling with some things and I understanding it entails waiting. But I grow weary in the wait... the waiting wears me thin now.  And I am not part of it.  A couple weeks ago, my college boyfriend contacted me... he was the almost... things for us didn't work out at that time. We parted on good terms.  I actually kept his photos even after I got married... I find out now he kept my letters and comics I would send him.  It is as no time has passed.  It's been almost 40 years.  He retired from the military two years ago.  I have always held a special place for him in my heart.  Yes, I do love him still... in a different yet better way than when we were younger.  And again, I wait.  He's going to come here.  He has things to settle where he lives up north.  I imagine he will visit first, that would be wise. And  I wait for that.  I wait with anticipation  that there is someone who remembers me, who knows me, and loves me for who I am.  In the same way I love him.  I don't know what will happen.  Sometimes we wait, and our waiting is in vain.  Me, I tend to say life is short and don't wait... yet I can't hold onto my own words. Not when I let them slip through my hands.  That is my own doing, and waiting to remedy that will do me absolutely no good.  So while waiting I will still move forward in the direction I feel I am being led.  That is what I was waiting for, that sign post that said, "this way" with a fat arrow.  I got that.  And more.  I am not patient. But I know how to wait.  And like it or not, it is one common thing we all share.

The Clock On The Wall

I am swaddled in warm blankets like a mummy or a corpse there somewhere adrift, unsure of where.
I am neither awake nor asleep. I hear a quiet voice speak to me, call me by name.  "Lori, wake up."
I feel her hand on my head, warm and soft.  "Lori, open your eyes."  I lay there trying, knowing that I am in there somewhere, but I am cocooned and warm in that place.  My eyes slowly open to see her there close to me, a tear runs down my cheek.  "You're in the hospital.  You had to have surgery.  Are you in any pain?"  I shake my head no. I cannot move, all I want is ice chips, she tells me its too soon.  Another tear.  There is only she and I in the recovery room.   I look at the wall and the clock stares back at me.  It's 10:30pm.  That same tear still trickles slowly down my cheek, as I realized through that fog that I am utterly alone.

                                      TBC


Dave Matthews: "Take Me to Tomorrow" (Fretboard Journal photo shoot) from fretboardjournal on Vimeo.

This just in...... sort of

My friend Lynda posted this, which she says she normally doesn't do, and she doesn't but it spoke to her and seemed right to post. 

It hit me over the head too.. so I'm slapping it up here in case you haven't seen it before.  Maybe it'll turn on a couple of lights in some unlit corners in our lives.

I usually don't post quotes and the like because so many people do but I was thinking of people who are heroes and saw this:

“In the name of the best within you, do not sacrifice this world to those who are its worst. In the name of the values that keep you alive, do not let your vision of man be distorted by the ugly, the cowardly, the mindless in those who have never achieved his title. Do not lose your knowledge that man's proper estate is an upright posture, an intransigent mind and a step that travels unlimited roads. Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark, in the hopeless swamps of the approximate, the not-quite, the not-yet, the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish, in lonely frustration for the life you deserved, but have never been able to reach. Check your road and the nature of your battle. The world you desired can be won, it exists, it is real, it is possible, it's yours.” **Ayn Rand 

"So many roads"...Jerry Garcia

Yup, I'm thinking the same thing.

                                                                      

                                                                  crave

I mentioned to Diane that the word for the week carve, kept popping in my mind as curve.  And tonight sitting here staring at a photo I had slapped up here, I decided crave fit too.  

Then I realized I don't have a blessed thing to say about any of them.  At least not thus far and wouldn't count on anything coming in the near future.

Crave, yes I crave peace.  I crave well being.  And I crave solitude.  

End of story

                                                      My Little List of Wonders 

Diane came up with a good idea about making lists... I think it's a good one since there are so many things we wonder about some real, some not.  It seems not to matter and then too, who do you ask about the things you wonder even if they seem to make sense.  My list isn't in any order of import or wonder... some are old, some new, some one my list of things I want to ask God when I see him,  some real, some very unreal.  Some things I shouldn't even be wondering at all.  Human enough, I still do.  


What's up with fire ants?  Why?

Why this man won't leave me alone?  

How the hell I am going to get out of the debt incurred trying to save my skin?

Why did I choose to save my life?

Why I have never gotten mad at God?

Why I am using questions marks at the end of each of these rather than a period, am I asking a question or simply making a statement?

What the sun does behind the those really cloudy days when the sky seems so low?

If I should go back to school.

If I should move.

Why my patience level runs so thin these days.

Why my heart seems so fragile along with my lack of patience.

Why my grief burns so much deeper now.

Is there really life somewhere "out there" in space?

Is there really life here?

Yes there really are mermaids.

That I never lose my sense of awe and wonder when I see the ocean each and every time.

How is it that I find so much there?

How close I am to God there by the water especially in the water.

How I survived living away from it.

What happened in my Mothers life to turn her into the nasty drunk she was.

Why my Charlie would write a song about me.

Who writes songs about women they meet?

What kind of man does that?

Why are souls are so connected.

Where those who confuse religion with God get their info.

Where the culture of "I deserve" came from.

Why we often fail to see what is truly important in our lives.

How does that happen?

Why we find it so incredibly difficult to accept unconditional love.

Why we so often see ourselves as unlovable.

Why mean ass people don't self implode and vanish from the face of the earth.

Where babies really come from.

Why Johnny's bread is so dang good.

How hard people struggle to avoid anything dying.

And then how they struggle to avoid living.

How they deem whose life is worth saving and who's is not.

How much music stirs my soul.

How much I love that feeling.

That every shell you see on the beach was at one time a living thing.

How we cannot accept that we are a host of contradictions.

What happens to us when we find ourselves truly hating ourselves.

Why men cheat.  Why women cheat.

Where are the angels really bowling when it's thundering.

I never wonder about angels because I know they exist.

Where the moon gets her beauty.

Why I am so taken with her beauty.

Why I hate it when it's really windy.

Why I am struggling again with my body image.

How I differentiate killing a bug from refusing to take something live from the water.

How we decide killing is okay.

What lengths will I go to save myself from myself.

Why I stopped making art.

When did I become old?

Why wasn't I warned?

Where does fat really go when you lose it?

Where is my other diamond earring?

Why I am still here.

How much I miss my Dad.  

Why I don't miss my husband as much as my Dad.

How I seem to see and understand things others don't.

Why some people can't and won't cook.

What happened to manners?

Why I don't shut up after telling myself to be quiet.  (in my head)

Why I talk  when I am nervous.

Why some people automatically repel me and make me run for the hills.

Why people like football.

How did the man who invented the shower do it... god bless him.

Same for indoor plumbing.

Why I am.

Why I save weird stuff.  i.e.  feathers, bird eggs, rocks et al.

Where my paper fetish came from.

Same for pens and pencils.

Where do socks go when they disappear?

What color my hair is.

How I can still be my own worst enemy.

Where does rain really come from.

Where am I?

What am I doing?

Why I ask myself that.

Why I feel like I am not.

Why I let things people say now get under my skin.

Where did my ability go to tell them they have so done.

Why it will bug the crap out of me until I beat it to death then let it go

Why I can't let go of some things

Especially things I wonder.

Why I still have the unending need to "understand" things that are close to my heart.

When the list will end.

I don't think it ever does.

Where I got the habit of saying something wonders me.

What I wanna be when I grow up.

Will I ever?

When will it all end?

                                        The Stability Ball

Balance.  Something of the utmost importance to me.  Both inside and out.
This is a stability ball.  Right now the most I can do on it, is manage to sit squarely without toppling over and am starting to lift one leg at a time, again without toppling over.  It's core work.  It's about maintaining and retraining your midsection to grow strong enough to support your body, keep it upright and straight.  Through the repetitive movements you rewire your brain to pattern the same movement.  Improving your balance while you are on your feet.  It's hard work.  But I need it and in the past two weeks I notice a difference.  This is a good thing.  (As an aside, I toppled over in church today, fortunately fell backward and ending up sitting down in the pew)

I don't know what balance looks like to other people, or how it feels.  For me balance is an inner sense that encompasses many things.  And I am overly sensitive to my own sense of inner balance.  When it is off, or I sense that it is off or even leaning that way, I struggle hard to upright myself.  To swing the pendulum back into even motion.  

There are things I do, almost ritually that I feel are needful for me to keep that, one is my morning quiet time.  I sit and write, talk and listen to what is going on with me both inner and outer aspects.  I may start to write in one place and end up where I need to be, in a very sensitive yet necessary subject I need to address and look at.  Again, for balance.  The other is my walks.  I know some people may say, "gee must be nice to go to the beach every day, swim and walk, collect crap...."  Yeah, sometimes my "work" at the beach is much more difficult than being employed.  For the most part it entails all inner work. It is that one place I go where I meet myself, God and the entire face of humanity.  It's not always happy nor easy, because there, I am naked to myself and to him.  My inner balance shifts at the water... I become more attuned to myself inside and how I relate to the world around me.  When I become extremely quiet, there I hear nothing.... but what nothing does is leaves room for God to speak.  And yes, sometimes I don't react immediately, to which he has a way of getting my full and complete attention.  But balance me it does.  Inside, where it is important.  When I am off balance I am prone to much discomfort.  I am edgy, unsure of myself, fearful and tend to withdraw.  I am protective about my inner life... that sense.  Despite not being visible to the eye, for me it is something so tangible that I can often feel like I can reach in and touch it... sometimes to soothe, or simply to keep company.

I realized this week a couple things.. that reek havoc on the, at times delicate balance of me... they both have to do with relationships.  they are both fear based, one is being weak, the other vulnerable.  For me they walk hand in hand.  I recognized those things before, but they came front and center this week again as my balance was sent for a minor teeter and I needed to sit and look at what really caused my sadness.  Once I saw that (in writing of course) I was able to understand it and acknowledge that is what throws me, in those situations. Now I can take that and rebalance those things.

I was reading a little short story tonight on KOM and the gal made a statement that she wanted to be touched with deep and reverent kindness.  Speaking about a relationship she was in.  Well, had just left.... that in the future what she was looking for was that... someone who could touch her in that way.  I found that to be most profound.  Scribbled it on my chalkboard.  And thought too, don't we all deserve that same thing.  To touch ourselves and to be touched that way, to treat ourselves with that very same gentleness and compassion.

Balance... it's the restoration thereof.  And beyond that stability ball for me, very likely lies that deep and reverent kindness.

Permit, Admit and all the rest of the mittere

Once in a while I like to look up words, because I'm a word freak.  Mittere the root of all the "mit" words we've been getting means to let go or to send.  In both cases these words was fitting suffixes... where in one we let in, allow to enter and the other we can do so much more... yet is more expressive. We tolerate, allow, afford opportunity, consent, agree to...et al.  Having said that, I'm going to allow-permit myself to beg off on this one, admittedly for a number of reasons.

I had the flu.  Still have too many remnants of it.  I started physical therapy at home.  My brain cells were sizzled.  Blah blah.

So in order to end the whole thing here... I let go of it all and begged off.  But like the two hot dogs in a pickup.

there is always a next time.

Renew?  Yes thank you!

I would love to.  Renew.  Something.  That's a question we are asked often.  Would you like to renew your card, your membership, your license tag.  Stuff, everyday stuff. We don't think much about it.  And the answer is most often a simple yes or no.  And then there this:

            All things made new again

A new cell, a tiny bit of invisible life.  This is a most special and precious cell.  Why?  One, because it is fractal, two because it is mine.  Looking closely you can see that there is perfect symmetry in the cell.  Something my body hasn't seen in all too long.  To my eye is holds tremendous beauty, it holds my life and all that is beautiful within that.  All that life hold contained in ones cells, those things that make us human.  Those same cells hold all of life, they reproduce, and give us that same ability.  They keep us whole, healthy and moving.  They take our breath and carry it to every single part of our bodies.  They nourish, bring us things unseen, unknown and quite necessary for life.  When things go wrong, for whatever reason they can turn on us, like an angry crowd and overwhelm us, knocking us off our feet and push us to the very ground we came from.  And that those tiny little bits of that which is unseen can keep us down and take us from this place we know as home.  

My bone marrow went on a trip somewhere and did not ask me to come along.  It was an extended vacation, it didn't tell me it was leaving or when and if it would return.  I could only wait. For many reasons I was unable to receive a transplant which would in all likelihood have taken my life rather than sustain it.  So I wait, and oh I waited. So very long. Last year I spoke words that I would probably would never had said.  "I am weary."  And I was.  Life as it, grew difficult and then things took a very wrong turn and the cascade effect from that would begin to raise hell, literally with my body...I was at war with myself. Unaware at the time but in retrospect it was me fighting against my self.. my outer self.  The house that contains my furniture.  The hair went, the kidneys started to follow, including my brain due to lack of the necessary oxygen those mighty little red cells carry to keep our synapses clicking.  My wiring isn't that hot to begin with.  My life slowed drastically, make changes accordingly and not happily, because I am stubborn, I refuse to give in and I wasn't done.  I struggled to still keep my life as normal as possible even though it was constantly adjusting to my changing and faltering self. Weary.  Yes, weary.  I just sighed. I found myself sad at times. Unlike me.  Things weren't getting done and I grew to a point where I really didn't care.  And then I avoiding doing.  That again, is not like me.  I didn't because I couldn't.  And it was and is still hard to me to spit those words out of my mouth.  Spit I did.  One day in early October, saving the  details Papa in all his graciousness flung in my lap a new Dr.  One who is holistic and he held for me the keys to the kingdom.  He did not lie, long road ahead of you, and it will take time.  I said it's all I have, seemingly... yet fully knowing that I could not live forever with red blood cells and a function marrow.  He patiently bathed my bald head with some natural remedies and baby hair grew over time.  A few changes to my diet, a tea to drink, a plant based vitamin and plant proteins.  And stem cells.  Two treatments a week to start.  They are painless and the only side effect is fatigue, but not bad. More restful like.  It is financially devastating. That I must admit.  And I just started round 5 last week.  I also went for my "big labs and studies"  And on friday a visit to the Dr.  While I felt good about things, I was still wary, I approach with hopeful caution.  And sitting there hearing those words, your labs are all normal.  All of them.  You cells are growing, healthy and reproducing, my ferritin is normal. Every single thing was normal. It didn't hit me until I got to the car...I was numb and dumbfounded, happily so.  I sat in my car and had the first on many meltdowns.  Not disbelief... but relief and release.  And yes, renewal.  I have been created anew.  Not reborn, remade perfect and whole.  I am still needful of treatment.  But the playing field I feel is at the least level.  I am more sure of my footing. He has given me yet again new life.  And I am renewed in body, my spirit is less ruffled and worried.... and there is calmness and peace.  I have been once again given and I continue  in each moment to give myself over to him.  For me it is what sustains me. The love of my friends who carried, dragged, pushed, pulled and just sat with me through that.  Their prayers. My friends from church, all young moms with families; Kate, Maggie and Teresa.  Many others but these women breathed for me when I could not.  Loved me when I failed to love myself.  And through this love that comes only from God, I am. Pure and simple. I am.  

Scattered?  Me?  Never......

I laughed when Diane pulled the word scatter, thinking how appropriate a word since that pretty much described my life is general at the moment.  Then it got better for a day, maybe two.  Then returned to its normative state... scattered.
Scatter reminded me of skitter, which is what Sushee the resident house gecko does when running across the tile floor to avoid my steps.  Skitter is a lot like scatter.
More to the point. This will not contain photos although I had thought about it  initially... but I'm in the time crunch and yes I am scattered.  I have been jotting scattered note all week about being scattered and what that means to me.  Today I sort of hit on something that all things considered sticks in several ways on several levels.
Technically and by definition scatter means to toss or throw carelessly, and the rest of the verbage you can go look up... but there are times when I think that scattering when done with an intent and clear purpose may not be so careless. When something we need to get rid of is purposefully thrown off and away, I wouldn't call that careless.  So many times I have done just that.  I reach in and mindfully give it a toss.  With great intent and purpose.  Careful not to launch at anyone else in my throwing.  
My mind wandered first to scatter rugs, which we never called them scatter rugs, we called them throw rugs... (see here is where a photo of a throw rug, bath mat etc would be a great visual, use your scattered imagination)  so, saying we call them scatter or throw rugs, how then do we get them where we intend for them to be?  Wad them up and toss them hoping they land in the general vicinity of where we want them?  Toss it like a cow chip?  Kind of flat grab by the corners aim and fling hoping to get it close enough to the line? Or just toss it down and then smooth it out with your feet.  No one bends over to put down a throw rug... say what you will.
Then I begin to think about my scattered mind.  How did it scatter?  Did I purposely and carelessly toss it?  Did I throw it?  And if I did, how did I do that?
What did I do to throw my thoughts, sense, emotions and whatever else was rolling around in there?  Did I reach in and grab a handful of mess blindly and just toss it?  throw it?  It's already scattered, so I'm scattering scattered stuff.  it's already scattered, so do I need to scatter it further?  I don't want it.  I don't need it.  i'd rather leave it lying there where I scattered the scattered mess and keep walking.  No need to regather, I'm thinking if I scattered it to begin with, it's something I not only do not want or need, but something that is not good for me and no need to recollect.  Doing so would leave me feeling scattered, which is not a verb, so I can not go that one.... maybe next year Diane will do adjectives.  Then I'll have a story ready for that word.  The odds slim to scattered that it would appear on the list.  
I guess my real point is that yes I am scattered much of the time, and yes I do toss that scattered nonsense out, off and away from me.  For the most part my mind is fertile soil, with the right amount of sun, water and food and seeds well sown, it at times will yield among the scatters things that are whole, beautiful and lovely.  And that like pulling weeds and pitching them, it is a necessary process to get in there and scatter the accumulated nonsense that bogs down and further scatters our already too crowded little brains.  

This had no beginning, middle or end... it is as the word says scattered.  words dispelled, dispersed and tossed about it a careless way.  but mindfully so.

Two Songs

Chuckle....... you have to be joking.... only two........
One was tough and a toss up for a variety of reasons, they both speak to me, on different levels.  And one enough to make me want to pick up my guitar and start playing again.

1.  Dreaming Tree- David J. Matthews

My second choice was even tougher once again, because of my love of so many songs.... from my youth , my distant past..... and on and on...... but there was one I have always loved... oop make that two again that I  can listen to and find deep meaning in both and both speak to me about God, life and love.  A hope of how things should be, but sometimes are and then, hope again and a reminder.

2.  Grace- U2 written by Paul Hewson aka Bono

If you don't do anything else, listen to the lyrics of Grace.  My other choice by U2 was One.  Always been a winner for me and I love the One campaign and MDG's.

Lights out Gracie.

Getting Down To The Wire- Three Films

The word films implies a little something more that "just a movie"..... and God knows there are some bad movies out there.  Which explains why I don't watch many, the ones I do like tend to be older ones.  Blah blah.
But I'm going to make my list and then throw some add ons in.

1.  Moonstruck- film? Nope.  But it has love, opera, crazy Italians and things I could relate to in my life.

2.  City of Angels- the original subtitled starring Peter Falk... dang good movie.  I like the newer one too, because I like the music from it.

3.  The Mission- just because


Now, having said those  I like anything Robin Williams is in... if you haven't seen What Dreams May Come.... buckle in... it's a ride.  He's versatile, talented and a little underrated as an actor.  He's been in some great movies.
Meet Joe Black.  I never liked Brad Pitt until I saw that movie.  I like Anthony Hopkins and ended up watching it accidently.... I still like it.  I love the end.
Pulp Fiction- I like Travolta dance which leads me to Michael... another one that's got it all, love, God, dancing, music and a dog.  What else is there?  And Aretha singing Chain of Fools and Travolta dancing, oh and pie.....
Boondock Saints- don't even ask.  It's just good.
Silence of the Lambs
Children of a Lesser God..... great movie.
Anything southern..... Steel Magnolias, The Color Purple, Fried Green Tomatoes
Most DeNiro films

What I have not seen:  The Titanic, Gangs of NY, anything out in the last 5 years..... I don't like going to movie theaters.  I don't like remakes of classics, colorized versions and scary movies.  I don't like Sci-Fi.

and thus endeth the list.

Four Reads

Tough one.... so I have to wing it..... I love books and love to read.  But I'm picky.  Duh.

1.  Velvet Elvis- Rob Bell

2.  The Book Thief-Markus Zusak

3.  The New Union Prayer Book- Reformed Jewish Prayer Book

4.  Conversations With God- Donald Neale Walsh Books 1, 2 &3

I really wanted to write song lyrics..... they can be like books.  they tell stories.  They have a beginning, middle and an end.  Much like a book.  They paint pictures.  Create images.  Leave lasting impressions and make you think.  Like books.  They have a lot in common.

that's it from me... short and sweet.