I’m not God and I don’t have the whole wide world in my hands. I’m not and I don’t but I wouldn’t mind if I am and I do. It’s wishful thinking but what if wishes do come true? I’m feeling helpless and useless at the moment. I’m at the wall with nowhere to move. I can only take a deep breath and heave a heavy sigh for relief. This is real life.

So I am here, to lay some of my anguish on the page, the anguish of acceptance. I am not God. I do not have control of everything. I suppose this is the first part of the meditation practice called R.A.I.N. It stands for recognize, allow, investigate, and nurture.

Recognize what is happening;
Allow the experience to be there, just as it is;
Investigate with interest and care;
Nurture with self-compassion.

I’ve learned the first step of recognizing what is happening. But allowing the experience to be there, just as it is, is not so easy. I want to fix it with the first inkling of discomfort it brings. I can see myself getting into my Supergirl/Wonder Woman suit, all hyped up to the rescue and change the situation. There’s an urgency in me. I feel there’s no time to investigate with interest and care. I tend to berate myself rather than nuture.  I recognize what is happening in me. I want to change.

I am here, tapping out what I recognize and know. It’s been exhausting hosting all the thoughts and emotions inside my body. They’ve been in the wash cycle too many days , agitating and agitating. Now it’s time for the rinse to kick in and the dirt to drain out. I will hang on to the good stuff. I’m not God but I wouldn’t mind if he gives me a hand, light my path and point the way. It’s difficult navigating in the dark.

I haven’t been out in the desert for awhile now. I have missed my time there. I miss the emptiness, the silence and the arid air. I miss the seemingly endless time and the peace to heal body and soul. Most of all, I miss the conversations with God. His presence was all around me there. My heart was opened to accept and receive. Somehow every day life happend and it closed up shop. I have been sleeping on the job. I’m awake now and in the desert. I hope he will show me some wisdom and compassion.



Sometimes I get tripped up starting the day. The morning can be an obstacle course. I try not to get sidetrack too much, wasting time reading useless articles or things that I already know. How many versions of the same thing do I need? I try not to be obsessed about not being sidetracked. That can take the joy out me. I try to remember to do simple – just stop when I catch myself doing the repetitive and nonsensible. STOP.

Life is a little easier. The weather is a little warmer. My body is feeling more at ease. Sunshine is streaming through the windows. I’m tap, tapping on my keyboard, rearranging my thoughts, putting them in order, getting the kinks out. I’m calming my neurons. They misfire every which way. My keyboard is like a pacemaker, putting the impulses into rhythm. I can breathe again – in for 4 counts, hold for 7, out for 8. I do this four times.

The last few months or so have not been a good space for me. But there are some things that are working for me. It’s good to pay attention to the positive. For one thing, the pain in my hands and hips have been absent for over a year. Doing the work, paying attention to what I eat and exercising regularly have big dividends. It keeps my spirit afloat in the face of knowing that life is never easy. It goes on and I have to put one foot in front of the other.

I’m recognizing the value of my time and energy now. They are not endless as my years advance. Now when I catch myself doing things that don’t really matter, I stop. I redirect myself in another activity. I’m repeating myself but it’s something worth repeating. It’s a hard lesson for me. I waste and fret away my time and energy on things that can’t be changed or help me. For all the mornings sitting in meditation, it’s taken me a long time to get here.

I AM here, sitting in sunshine, in silence, listening to the rhythm of my breathing and the beating of my heart. I am alive. I am tapping out my inner conversation, the voice of all my cells. I should listen to them and the quiet around me.


One of my problems is that I have to get to the root of everything. I’m obsessive about it. I dig and dig, trying to get to the heart of the matter. Sometimes it does me in. I’m worse off. There’s such a thing as knowing too much. I go into overwhelm. Another problem is it takes a long time for me to overcome an every day illness like a cold. These two are not a good combination. It comes as a no surprise now that it’s a huge battle for me. They take away much of my time and energy. Quite often I feel I’m robbed of huge chunks of life.

I see some of the error of my ways. I don’t have to get to the root of everything. They will be revealed to me in time. AND I do have a lot of knowledge already. I have to accept how my body heals. I cannot hurry it along. It goes into more stress and I into more distress. Everything gets worse and I go beserk. Not a good scenerio. Now I have learned to chill, just be in my usual mode of moping along, laying in the sun, sipping my tea, watching my navel, do a little of this, a little of that, and not trying to get anywhere. In essence, be the tortoise.

On the other hand, it is always good to rise to the challenge. I should not so readily accept my bodily’s inability or my mind’s disability without question. I should at least give it a good go without pushing too hard. There’s the rub, to have good judgement and to have balance. Upon rising in the morning, I drink my little cup of hot water with freshly squeezed lemon juice. I meditate to the voice of Mark Williams on Youtube. Then I listen/watch something educational and uplifting. This morning it was a lecture on Immunology 101 from the University of California. I have a passion for learning. I just need to keep in mind not to pursue it to the nth degree AND to put the knowledge into practice.

I’m coming out of my body and mind funk. The other night I gave up fretting, took a pain killer, laid on the couch and watched two episodes of Grace and Frankie. Comedy can be healing. Then I popped a sleeping pill and went to bed. Uninterrupted sleep is very healing. I’m not advocating medication but sometimes it is what I need to get over the hurdles. When all else fails, it is how I get over my over obsessive mind so that I can heal. Now that I’m unchained, I’m in a better place. I’m soaking up the sun in my space, tapping out my melody. Meanwhile it is cold out, baby. I don’t feel it, only the warm healing sun though the windows.


Life goes on no matter what happens to me. Nothing stops. The planet turns. People go to work. The buses, trains and planes are arriving and departing. Someone once said to me that men are like buses. If you miss one, you can always catch the next. We have one life. We can’t have another – unless you believe in reincarnation. Even then, it is not a sure thing. I rather bet on a sure thing, this one precious life. I want to live it the best I can.

We are one collective breath, breathing in or out of rhythm. I rather be in tune with the earth and cosmos. I’ve been out of synch too long. I’ve had a few aha! moments. I’ve said I would do better. I do and then I forget – again. I’m saying it again now. I don’t know what number this is, but it is the truth of life. That’s why they say it is a learning experience. I shan’t beat myself about another failure. I shall stay aware and do my best until I forget again. I’ve always come back and try again. I am a success story.

So here’s the thing, the stories we tell about ourselves. I’ve had to learn to tell different stories. The old ones weren’t working. They bought me down into a dark abyss. The walls were too slippery for me to climb out of. I don’t want to stay there. I started to call myself the little train that could. I toot my whistle. I switch onto a different track. I want to get to a different place.

So here I sit, still tapping about trains, buses and planes. I’m brainstorming and dreaming of new possibilities. I try not to overthink everything but just be in this moment. I try not to do anything and everything. It’s all right to be still and silent. I listen to the sound of one hand clapping and look at that hole in the donut. I will relax, breathe and contemplate on my navel. I will put one foot in front of the other till the end.


Change is hard. I am sure you already know that. I’ve been trying to iniate a change to some of my habits but I keep doing the same things daily. Nothing. No change. So I sit with my discomfort, surrounded with my ever growing clutter. Being a clutterbug doesn’t make me a creative, an artist, a writer. It makes me frustrated, cluttered, clogged, pissed off, frazzled, exhausted. It’s making me sick. I am sick, tired and worn down. But is it enough to make me do different?

Here goes. I’m putting it on record. What is it that got me into this awful goddam mess? I’ve never been this bad before. Life happens and I’m frazzled by it all. What I realize now is that it will not get better. Life happens every minute of every day. I have to accept it and learn how to chill with it. I see that I’m operating in only 2 modes – stagnant and emergency. My brain is stuck in these 2, arrest or fibrillation. It has no rhythm. How will I calm this organ of mine? What can I do?

So here I sit, tapping, an acupressure treatment of some sort. This is my version of  Temple Grandin’s ‘squeeze box‘. I am a hypersensitive person in emergency mode, needing calming. I’m up to the task. It is not my fault but it is up to me to fix it. I am in charge of my body and I haven’t been in it, always seeking escape through whatever route available. I’m often lost in thought, other people’s problems, social media, unrelentless search of knowledge, etc. Often I am not even aware of it, but I am now. I need to come home to myself.

I’ve lost much of my pleasure in doing. So much time and energy spent frivolously on things that don’t mean a squat. I don’t spend much time in physical pleasures, in the sensual, in the slowness of real living, in looking at the beauty of dust mote in sunbeam. I’ve been riding ambulances and firetrucks, chasing emergencies and fires when there was none. It’s time to stop and come back to clean house and home. There will be many times when that siren will wail and I will want to follow. I’m remembering the safety procedures spiel on planes before take off. I’m seeing the oxygen masks dropping down. I know to put the mask on myself first before tending to another. That’s what I will do – BREATHE – before anything else.

I will figure it out. Change is hard. I can change and have. It just feels I haven’t. Tomorrow is another day and I will make another change.



My cough goes on though less harsh and frequent. I’ve been distracted, obsessed and more than useless these past week.  Going into week 2 now. I might be hard on myself but that’s how it is. I’m also easier on myself than usual. I’ve dropped things, not keeping up, letting them go. However, my brain and thoughts keep beating on. That’s how I am. No use berating myself for being my natural self. I’ve already cursed myself enough for my past stupidity.

Yes, I know. I have to be kinder to myself. I am. There’s so much to be said for hindsight. Wisdom comes from living and making mistakes. When I know better, I do better. Now I do loving kindness for myelf. Hence, letting all insignicants drop from my shoulders while I try to rest and heal. Nature seems to know when it’s a good time. Both the guy and I had a stressful fall with our less than desirable neighbour. She knows how to create drama and then some. Somehow we moved through it. We had a walk to put in and the front yard to landscape. There was a lot of physical work and mental stress to push through.

We had a little reprieve after that.  Then Sheba came down with a big ear infection and hematoma. Two visits to the dog ER, 5 visits to the vet clinic in total. 3 ear aspirations. A stoned dog.  Then an anxious dog motoring around bumping into things with her head cone. Staying up all night with her.Going out with her numerous times in the middle night. No sleep for 2 weeks. It turned out well in the end. Sheba still has her ear. It looks almost as good as ever – just a tiny hard ridge at the tip. She is still as spunky as ever. The vetinary bill was not too bad.

We got through Christmas, then New Year. We had no time to get sick. But then, the guy got sick. I was very careful, avoiding, not overdoing, drinking lots of fluids, etc. But there was no getting away. We had absorbed all that stress into our body. I guess we had to let it pass through. That’s my theory anyways. I’m sticking to it. I hope I feel better enough to go to my Buddhusim class tomorrow. I’ve stacked up on Fisherman’s lozenges and I’ll take my hot water. It’s good for the cough. Cold water does zilch.

I’m thinking about getting the house in order. It’s my most pain in the ass. I’m not killing myself over it. I’m not doing anything at all. I hear Sheba shaking her ears. It’s almost her eating time. Will do that and then make myself a cup of tea and sit in the sun. Tomorrow is another day. It’s a good thing there’s always a tomorrow. The end.