Neither a closed window nor locked door kept me trapped inside. I roamed my godparent’s neighborhood at midnight or stretched out on the crabgrass and watched shooting stars. Imaginative thoughts found their way on paper. Music, any kind of music, was mine to hear. Eye makeup. Long hair. Fashion boots. Tight jeans.
The behavior of some humans definitely rankled my patience. I wish it would’ve rained more. The garden was less than mediocre. And every holiday and celebration lacked the sparkle of champagne.
I’m not one to sulk and wallow in my own misery. So I switched to my 300 mm lens. Some interesting activity up the beach caught my eye. I zoomed in on the scene. Suddenly I forgot about my morning conversation with my physician. A pod of brown pelicans — maybe close to a hundred, the males in their colorful mating plumage, and the females seemingly enjoying the attention, beckoned Oly and I to get a little closer.
The first inkling I had on this interconnected business was in 2004 when I was in treated for breast cancer. I told my oncologist that I was slipping out from Santa Fe, NM for a bit, and going to go hang out at the beach. The oncologist, who reminded me of a Norman Rockwell character of a doctor, said, “Excellent idea. The ocean is our primordial connection. But don’t get a sunburn!”
This post is directed to those of us who just want to crow and crow loud. Yes, a bit of crowing feels good—but it is exactly way the disruptors have behaved for too many years. Let us not follow that muddy path.
Yesterday the first real snowfall blanketed my outside view in sparkling white. Everything beneath the water-laden sky transformed into pure crystalline snowflake-covered […]
An update on my mystical journey through Cancer World. When I transformed from human into a pale white unicorn, a strange, […]
But by this June, the bad boy tumor grew back from its reduced 6 cm to 8 cm. In other words, my continued digestive discomfort was not from a stuck camera capsule. Actually, the CT scan showed that the capsule had left my system.
I’m coming closer to grasping that Zen concept of the temporary. It’s liberating both my mind and heart. Nearly 50 years later, I’m actually understanding the words of the late philosopher, Alan Watts. This is a good thing. And it is not such a good thing.