Tag Archives: sunrise

Sunrise

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It was so beautiful and comforting to see the sunrise this morning. I took a moment to give thanks to whoever/whatever is responsible for this day. I took time to sit in silence with my morning tea, for this day will not come again. The sun will still rise every day but the light and air will never be quite the same. Nor will the petunias and all the living things. I, too, will never see, hear or feel the same as I do in this very moement.

It is an astounding realization of how precious the present moment is. It brings to mind Mary Oliver’s poem The Summer Day. 

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean—
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down—
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

Sunrise, Sunset

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Life surely is hard. I wonder how any of us can survive it, but we do. There is no choice. I had given myself permission to check out for awhile. There was no other choice. Now it is time to check back in. I am starting my days with my qigong practice of 18 movements. It begins with a sunrise and ends with a sunset. The in-between movements can be done in any order. I like to keep the same order as it is easier to remember.

It’s only five and a half weeks since my mother’s passing. She left on a warm October day. Her flowerbeds were still blooming with marigolds, petunias and snapdragons. She saw the sunrise and the sunset. She left in the evening, well before midnight. She was always thoughtful in that way, not wanting to cause us too much trouble.

I have not had much time to process her leaving. There was so much to do. There was my father’s grief and health to tend to. Then there was mine. You can’t get out of Dodge very fast or easily, especially when you are not Wyatt Earp with a speedy horse. So we’ve limped along slowly but surely. I think we are out of the danger zone into recovery now. One slow day at a time.

Loving Mom

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Loving mom was/is the most easy thing. Losing her is the hardest. Though I’ve had her more than most people have had their mothers, it doesn’t seem enough. Forever is what I want. I still feel the need for my mother. That is selfishness on my part. She was tired. She hung on for as long as she could for us. She left on an October day after having seen the sunrise and sunset.

It’s been a week since her departure Sunday night, October 20th. The week has gone by in a blur. I had been worrying for years on the how(s) and what(s) to do when the time came. It’s been 23 years since she was diagnosed with a serious heart disease. I remembered because we were waiting at the hospital for CT scan on September 11, 2001. That morning upon rising, I heard news of planes flying into twin towers in NYC. I thought of mom’s family there. In the hospital waiting room I watched the chaos and horror on TV. My mother was around 70 years old then.

I need not have spent so much time worrying and wondering. Life and death took care of themselves. Mom had a few tough times but many good ones. She never thought she would have such a long life. She marveled that the surgeon could put her back together after she fell and broke her hip. That was on the day before Mother’s Day. Her hip was the least of her problems. Her body and already compromised heart was traumatized by the fall and surgery.

I asked for one more summer. My mother asked to see the sunrise and sunset. We both got our wishes. She said she was always happy no matter what. She had us. She’s told me that many times. That’s been a comfort. She said that too the last afternoon when we basked in the late afternoon sun in the backyard. She looked like a rock star with my sunglasses on. I felt blessed to be in her presence for those 30 minutes.

I haven’t given up on the Ultimate Blog Challenge. Finding my words again today.

SUNRISE, SUNSET

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Not much sun this morning.  There was no sun at all.  I wondered if the sun still rises on mornings like these.  But still, I felt and saw the sun in my mind’s eye as I did my opening qigong move to the sunrise.  I knew that somewhere behind the clouds and mist, the sun was rising and I greeted it to start the day.

Hello day!  You are here for me to fill as I desire.  It does not matter that it is cloudy.  It is still a gift of time to be well spent in whatever it is that pleases me.  And so I breathe in and I breathe out.  I open my arms to the sky.  I feel the energy flowing through me.  And all is copacetic.

I try to mix the order of my movements between the sunrise and sunset.  Being such a creature of habit, it is not so easy.  There is such a sense of discomfort and resistance.  I breathe in and out and continue to find order within my disorder.  Such is life.  There is so much chaos and it is I who must remain calm and constant.

I came to rest at the sunset, crossing and opening my arms to the sky.  I held the ball of chi in my hands and stepped back in honour and bowed to the ancestors.

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HEART OF WINTER

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We are in the heart of winter.  It is dark, dark outside.  My little Buddha is shivering in the snow.  Sunrise is not till 8:59, another hour yet.  Yesterday, the sun did not come out at all.

It would be so easy to hibernate like the bears, but duty and nature calls.  Sheba is quite insistent.  She KNOWS she is hungry and she’s not letting anyone sleep in.  You try to quiet your bladder, but after awhile you know you have to get up.  So you throw those covers back and step onto the cold floor.  And another day starts.

I’m not feeling up to snuff.  My eyes are gummed up and my mouth feels grainy and dry, like the Sahara Desert.  I am achy, throaty and tired.  Welcome back, SINUSITIS, my old friend.  Your ways are familiar to me now.  I can function quite well with you on my back even though you try your hardest to drag me down.

So, I’m not so speedy or quite as organized as usual.  Is there a race on and are we in a hurry?  Or is there an emergency?  It is good that there are seasons and times for everything….times to work and times to rest, times to speed and times to slow.  We all know how that song goes, but do we listen and hear it?

I’m feeling like hell now.  So I sit back, take my glasses off and rub my eyes.  I breathe and sip my tea.  Sheba is on her mat besides me.  Animals do absorb and ease our distress and discomfort by being with you and being just themselves.  Often we take them for granted  but they are always so happy to see us when we come back, even if we’ve gone for a few minutes.They accept us as we are.  There is no judgement.

I would do well if I could learn from Sheba’s ways….let people know I appreciate them, live in the moment, letting go of minutes, hours, days, years past, of things of little consequence.  Perhaps that’s her purpose…to keep reminding me of the excitement of life, to keep wagging my tail.  The sun will come again.   Ahh, there it is now, shining over my shoulder, lighting my world!   And I have done well in this heart of the winter.

Sometimes when there is no feeling good in your body or mind, you have to go back in your memories for those feelings and live as if.  That is what I did this morning, remembering the pleasure of the cup of hot chocolate, making soup, baking bread.  I remember my body opened up, seeing  Sheba running out to greet me when I came home from work Monday evening, tired and stressed.  Her wagging tail, smile and nuzzling work miracles in easing the tension in my being.

Everything does turn, turn, turn.  Nothing stays the same.  This, too, shall pass.  And for everything, there is a purpose under heaven.  Breakfast is done, dishes cleared and the dishwasher is turning and turning.

 

ODE TO SUMMER

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The sun is out in all its glory this morning.  It is the 27th of August.  Fall is in the air, but it has been a wonderful summer, even with the weather’s unpredictability…..even with all the rain and the ever-present lake in the back alley.

Believe it or not, the City of Saskatoon does listen to its citizens.  And now the lake is no more even after an all-day rain.  I will have to send them another email…one of thank you, for a job well done.

Our garden started off slowly and pitifully.  The lettuce got crowded by the cress.  The beans didn’t show and the peas were sparse.  The radish didn’t radish.  Neither did the kohlrabi and broccoli.  And I wondered if we will get any tomatoes.  Even the sweet pea failed us.  Oh well!  It did look good, lush and green.  Who knew there was hardly anything edible?

But surprise, surprise!  It was not a total failure.  Yesterday I discovered the broccoli did brocc’ed.  I found enough to serve us a meal. There was also a kohlrabi even though it was small and old.  The beans took after a second planting and we’ve had a few meals.  The carrots came, but not enough to satisfy Sheba.  I found a couple of cherry tomatoes turning reddish, too.

So, all in all, the garden is like all of life.  Some things turn out and some didn’t.  Best to make notes for next year.  Learn from our mistakes.  Do more of what works.  Take pride in our labours.  Enjoy the sunrises and sunsets.  Give thanks to the Universe.