Abs

                                              Abs and Such
     My astonishment holds no bounds at the emphasis our society has placed on flat stomachs, rock-hard abs, well-developed biceps and bums; who knows what other so far well-concealed areas are being considered for plumping up!
     The economy had better hold out, for no other reason than to keep the spas, gyms and workout areas open for zealous patrons.  Else, what will the plumpers do if the spas close?  How will they fill their hours now spent treading mills, pumping iron, jogging tracks, sweating profusely.  Oblivious to countless other participants surrounding them, they seem strangely remote and distant, yet in sync with some magical goal.   Watching them all I feel the unity in some common meditation, somehow bonded spritually, leaving onlookers
left out, hoping for some way to join this brotherhood without expending all that energy.
     I have participated in two spas in my lifetime.  They both offered a menu of outrageous physical experience, yet neither seemed to offer chances of companionship, friendship, social opportunities outside their sweat-permeated, dank, and to me, dreary confines.
At both spas I chose to use the pool, three times a week.  Were the other activities guaranteed that a hard, taut-muscled body would develop, the pool offered the opposite, a relaxing of muscles, loosening of tensions in the warm, supporting arms of water!  How outrageous if that?  The last pool offered not only mild exercise for arthritics, but a spontaneous burst of communal singing, with the chance of friendship offered, and, hard to believe, laughter!  Simply unthinkable!  Also:  we are urged to arrive a half an hour early for a quiet, pool-submerged meditation!
     My hope is that some of the millions who strive for body perfection will be able to make the ultimate transition from taut bodies to peaceful minds; one proven method is a warm water spa for graceful and comforting quiet, with occasional laughter thrown in!


                                                      My Body

     Lately I have been observing my body - not necessarily critically, in front of a full-length mirror - I am compelled to avoid that practice lately - as I think a teen-ager would, in utter awe of how my body is changing, affecting the fit of my clothes; at my powerlessness over the appearance of the tops and bottoms of my waistbands!  There is an extra roll - I hesitate to mention FAT - under my stomach that no amount of sucking in and stretching high will diminish.  My bra size has increased a full size cup, a much longed-for phenomenon in my younger days, but oddly cumbersome and unwelcome today.  My thighs are surprisingly holding the line somehow; they don't rub together or cause my slacks to rustle when I walk.  My wrists and ankles seem unchanged.
     I absolutely understand and hold as valid that if I dieted off ten pounds, my skin would hang in looser folds than it is already exhibiting.  So, there's no hope for it.  I must accept my body's changes, respect if for having held out for so long.  Without thought over the years, I have demanded it to comply with my often-times irrational needs.  If some inner parts of me are wearing and thinning out, far be it for me to fuss about some outer changes going on.
     My body and I are realizing we're in for the long haul.  What we once took for granted - flexibility, adaptability, willingness to change, our assumption that we will last forever - are subjects under more than occasional scrutiny these days, and worthy of any mutual compromise necessary.
     I consider that our shared, lofty, and maybe final goal!

What's the Big Attraction?

The magnets work their magic,

Attracting like to like;

Recharged and at the ready

They seek to join, to test.

Both ends beckon equally,

Both ends emit their power;

Gathering at the joining place

To begin their spousal dance.

You're perfect, I'm insecure,

You're magic, I'm a plod - no

I'm perfect, you're magic,

You're a plod, I am not.

What, change? Why? Why not? How?

Let's call it quits, we've done our very best

Besides, the magnets have disengaged,

And we have lost.

Cycles

Life's series of cycles

Have swept me up at times,

Engulfed me with their sorrows

Overwhelmed me with their joys.

These cycles are slowing now -

They seldom come around -

I've decided not to involve myself,

To miss a turn or two.

I give myself permission

To take a well-earned break;

Rest my back, ease my shoulders,

Calm my thoughts, dim my vision.

No matter that I'm 81

And the world is on the brink,

My days ahead are countless,

My option's still, to think.

Lessons

Lessons

For me to try to make heads or tails of what's happening in my life lately would be an effort in futility.  My reactions to events occurring around me seem other-worldly and sometimes I cannot express how I feel, so I just attribute it all to 'it was meant to be' and escape all the unnecessary plumbing of the depths of reasoning.

Have recently felt detached to life itself, even though a lot of it is going on around me, occasionally reaching out to include me in its grasp.  There are no lessons to be learned, I believe, and that is a departure for me, for I have always felt that what happens to me has a message that I must look at and worry with, like a dog with a new bone.

The recent theft of my car from my driveway - it was locked and in sight when I got in bed the night before, gone the next morning - has taught me this:  I will have my own car until I am unable to drive one - not settle for a one-car-in-the-house existence - and the garage will be for keeping cars locked up safely at night, not space for stored crap .....

So, I guess there is a lesson here, and I have plumbed the depths of reason, if only in a rather shallow manner......

Shannon's blog today featured her walk through a local cemetery in Jacksonville OR, along with pictures of old headstones that always tell a story.  It reminded me of something I wrote a couple of years ago:

Plumas-Eureka Mine State Park, Jonesville CA

Faces looking up at me through sepia tints of age;

Bride and groom,traditionally posed, he seated

She resting her hand on his shoulder,

Dress in their fanciest finery.

A group of boyhood chums, 

Arms around each others' shoulders,

Hats at a rakish angle, perched on a fence-rail,

Laughing out at us in teen-age abandon.

Tall skiers propped on long skis, smiling,

Their sunburned faces dark shadows

Against the backdrop of sun -

Their healthy zest for life bursting though.

The museum's collection impresses me

With artifacts of this by-gone era:

Gold mining tools, mine diagrams,

Funnels, scales, core samples.

But the images captured by unseen cameramen

Beckon me back again to will life into those

Hopeful newlyweds, prankish young boys,,

Long-dead, handsome skiers.

They don't make folks like that anymore, do they?

Boy, how could they have stood the cold?

How did women keep up their spirits and keep warm?

Quiet and admiring comments from visitors close by.

A small well-kept cemetery is filled with reminders

Of those hardy, propelled people:

Italians, Irishmen, Slavs, Germans,

All represented in ethnic isolation and solidarity.

Tall pine trees surround this tiny spot,

Sheltering them all in regal shade.

Are the happy newlyweds resting here,

Those adventerous and happy teen-agers

Those lean, intrepid skiers?

The photos in the museum were unmarked,

But these tomb engravings give wings to my imagination:

Mary, Beloved Wife

James, Honorable and Loving Husband.

WWI Survivor, Miner

Native of Ireland, Miner

Native of Italy, Miner,

Native of Jonesville, 

Undefeated long-distance Skier.

Carrie's Journey

I haven't posted much lately although much has been happening to encourage it!  My mind sometimes shifts into lassitude, one of my wonderful gifts of being, and stays there.  However, being on Carrie's journey with her is one of the wonders of my life. Her acceptance and progress through this miasma of emotions and revelations, to say nothing of the total love that surrounds her in the form of friends, abundance, and love, is nothing short of miraculous.

She continues to accept current status of her surgery, its aftermath, and her future with grace and equanimity, inspiring others with her attitude of peace.  She has her faltering moments, of course, but they are far outweighed by her patience and acceptance of 'what is'.

I am very humbled and very proud of her.

Another week, another event, namely the Historic Yard Sale!

It was a singular event, held last Friday - postponed on Saturday due to rain/wind/lightning - attended by hundreds, with about twenty A-one helpers, from setters-up to takers-down, all energetic and happy to be together.  Many were old friends who hadn't been in contact for so many years they couldn't remember! The feeling of community and helping Carrie in her need continues on as the days pass. Even now people are volunteering their time for the next sale.   And to top it off, the proceeds were unheard of, $3500 to date, with more donations coming in!

Carrie has attempted to see if she could get the surgery done at UNM Medical Center;  their oral surgeon, who mainly handles trauma cases, can do the surgery, but informed us that he wouldn't be able to do the followup surgeries, so that put the cabosh on further aid there.  And frankly, she is relieved.  She is perfectly happy with and trusts Dr. Traub - they have a nice relationship, warm and respectful on both sides - and the date is set for August 18, which makes her feel stable, steady and relaxed,  She continues her good spirits, sometimes frustrated and afraid, but for the most part she is a stellar soul and everyone admires and loves her.

We are trying to concentrate on the happy things that life brings, mainly laughing a lot and making jokes whenever we can.  It's amazing how you can make light of difficult situations, but if we couldn't laugh, what would we do?  Also, Carrie has begun her gardening endeavors for the year.  While Cliff was here, we hired a tiller who came out and tilled the bejabers out of the back backyard, so it'll be easier this year to manuver out there.  Herbs, tomatoes, peppers, cukes, and lots of flowers are on the list so far.  It'll be nice; gardening is her passion.

Meanwhile, I have been encouraged to write more - I have been in a too familiar slump lately - so I am digging around in my past treasures to remember things; have emailed them to family and will see what I can come up with.

Weather here in Albuquerque in April is as unpredictable as it is everywhere these days: cold at night, sweater weather in the day, with wind coming up at night.  My kind of weather, but I'm afraid it'll change, like overnight, and we'll be sweating and nattering on about the heat!

We'll see!