Yes, cancer changes everything. Things I did two years ago are not even possible now. Is this a worse-case scenario? Yes and no. Yes because I love to cook, hike, and explore the world around me. I can’t do that right now. No because I’ve an opportunity to learn new ways and new perspectives.
The trend to express gratitude is the antithesis to domineering negative behavior. Once we begin to seek grace in the tiniest elements surrounding us, joy takes hold of the heart. I’d rather awaken with joy in my heart than awaken with contrariness because my world is not how I believe it should be. My world is how I choose to make it.
And life’s serendipitous imp flew with me from the California coast to our landing in the Sonoran Desert last October. The objective was to physically heal. I’ve spent the last four months among saguaros, palo verde trees, wild coreopsis blooming next to chaparral and creosote shrubs. The massive structure of the Mayo Clinic outlines the horizon to the east. Westerly is the opened desert where coyotes and rabbits play hide and seek, and concludes my days in neon orange and purple sunsets.
Like a reflection in a desert puddle after the rain, life’s abstract moments challenge my view, troubles my heart. Desert air reeks […]
Despite the endless coffee stain, it was the magic of family and friends that kept 2018’s light burning. So this is a thank you to a long list of kind people who have made a difference during my personally challenged moments.
After Grau busted through the glass ceiling at the LA Times, rising from classified sales to outside sales and then into management, she left the weight of her career behind in retirement. Not one to atrophy in retirement, Grau embraced weight training. And it shows. This 76-year-old woman is fit and has those kind of arms that flatter sleeveless shirts.
Politics aside, my concern over the rollback of national monument designations is the potential (and likely) loss of history, environment and open space — open space that does not include the scars of mining, logging, and drilling.
We can’t stop a rip current. But we can heed the warnings, and we should learn how to get ourselves out of a rip current if we are sucked into one. And so it goes with our personal efforts at finding peace. A sudden world event can pull our peace away. Once caught in the current, we may become another casualty.
This time last year I wanted to gather my own tribe around my dining room table. I craved their ways of thinking, experiences, wisdom, crafts and talents. But the problem with “my tribe” is we are not very tribal and gathering these folks at one time is akin to herding feral cats — which is why I love this weakly defined tribe.So, instead, I hiked the desert, wandered through the forests, listened to the rivers and ocean, bought mounds of books to read and ponder, and took to what I’ve always done at challenged life moments — threw words on paper in hopes of sorting it all out.
It can be lonely on these less traveled roads. Guideposts are few and far between. The silence, however, is magic. It puts a lid on the cauldron of word soup chatter (social media). With each blind curve, truth reveals itself like nakedness in the mirror. And it is not always pretty.