The day after Christmas 2016

A couple weeks ago I woke up in extreme pain. It was a crowning touch for a year characterized by political disillusionment, fear about my future; the future of my family, my country, and the world around me.  

Having always been strong, and the youngest, I have lived largely without fear of limitation. Waking, as a 66-year-old Woodstock alum, to ageing pains and what has been discovered to be degenerative arthritis, it is an understatement to say I was discouraged.

X-rays, MRIs, steroids, scheduling spine consultations which won’t be concluded till February, and trying the wide variety of pills and powders, did nothing but squeeze me in to unfamiliar, uncomfortable, physical and emotionalshapes, and reduce my pain only minimally. Many of you I’m sure will understand this very well.

My youngest child, who I was blessed with the opportunity to single parent, moved the other end of the country over year ago and although we talk almost all the time she is still not at home and here to hug. Being unable to manage even a small tree not wanting to spend Christmas alone at home and in pain I decided to visit my mother. My mother, in her late 80s, is about a 4 hours from me in southern New England and I determined that despite my pain I was going to make it to see her for Christmas so we could be together as family.
Packing up my pain, pillows,  pills potions, personal belongings and minimal quantities of necessary clothing I went with a friend who was driving to near the same area and could give me a ride so I didn’t have to drive.

My mother and I love each other very much. We do of course have the usual problems that occur between parents and children or the historical issues that have to constantly be considered.  I dove into her elderly housing community and began to enjoy the fact that she is loved here, has many friends, and is very safe and happy. 

Those of you who have had to take steroids will understand that reaching full dosage at this point I had less pain but my mouth tasted like sour metal; ruining all water and food, and I felt like I had been given a high explosive for dinner and couldln’t let the pressure off.

 Christmas morning I begin tapering the dose according to recommendations. Christmas night at 12 PM I was in shattering pain. I knew going to the hospital could give me nothing that wasn’t already in the works and that I would spend the whole night in the hospital to end up back on the same waiting list for the spine specialist. Everything I can accomplish is already going to be coming about over the next fee appointments and consultations etc. I got very frightened of the idea that I wouldn’t be able to handle more days of sleepless pain and deal with things until something changed. 

At 12:30 AM my mother came into the guestroom and asked me how I was. I told her I was doing poorly I could see that she was as upset for me as I was. The next thing I knew I was lying back she was holding my feet and mumbling something. Knowing my mother I knew she was praying for me; something I don’t do that way but know that she is genuine in.

I remember thinking this is the only hope I have left I hope it works. I had not slept; more than two hours at a stretch or 3.5 hours in a night, for many days. The next thing I knew I woke up it was after 4 AM and I felt rested and the pain had diminished.  Deciding she would want to know I went to her room briefly just before five and told her that I was feeling much better and then thanked her. Her face filled with tears of relief.

There are many things one can think of a time like this. My choice is to remember that life holds promise so long as we have the trust and faith to put aside fear and judgment and accept it. First and foremost I am grateful; to my mother and whatever that power is that makes this true.  After centuries of war over simply disagreeing on what to call the origin of this force,  I feel no attachment to naming it. 

I do however gladly announce that it has visited my heart and my body and I am much closer to well and grateful. In fact by opening myself to it I believe I’ve become less stiffnecked and healed more quickly just by letting it in; a reminder that I am responsible in many ways for closing myself off and creating my own problems.

In this closing month of 2016 I choose to apply this lesson to my view of the world, current politics, and my concerns about the future.  I hope you will join me in believing that we, together, can remind ouselves and the world around us  that our willingness  welcomes the wondrous things which sustain us and give the true  beauty of life entry into our lives.  There is something here that really cares about us.

From my deepest heart, merry Christmas & happy holidays to all of you.

With love,



Accretion (1st Edit)

Each heart, like every chrysalis, must break,
its transformation complete.

Like a field it must be harrowed, deep furrows in hard earth,
broken to embrace new growth.

Waiting, unsure, winter seared, until; Spring’s first warm days when all life stirring wakes.

I let the growing beauty guide my feet, and bearing water, sing my dreams to blooms.

Every scent and shade infused,
eyes opened by beauty’s silent roar.

Content in knowing, that when at last I fall, my gathered grace returns to fertile soil.

This, in truth, is love.
Life undefined by need, born of water, spirit, earth and Sun.

Through such as I is all great beauty bred; passed on to fragrant air the blessings pour

giving to they who pass of dying less, leaving for each who comes; of loving more.


Between recognition and the impulse to act, Like moonlight between clouds;

The illuminated space between recognition and response.

Before my certainty is tainted by doubt or my mind tries to force order,

Within the beauty of stillness and untainted perception,

Before judgement, contentment, or catastrophe;

a purity of presence, as yet un-circumscribed,

at rest, at one, again.

Accretion (Easter in Progress)

My heart, like every chrysalis, must break,
freeing new life its transformation done.

For, Like a field it must be harrowed bare,
the hard earth broken to embrace new growth.

Waiting, unsure, winter seared, until;
Spring’s first warm days when all life stirring wakes.

I let the growing beauty guide my feet,
and bearing water, sing my dreams to blooms;

of every scent and shade, infused with faith,
the certainty of beauty’s silent roar

Content in knowing, that when, at last I fall,
my gathered grace returns to fertile soil,

that this is love, life undefined by need,
born of water, spirit, earth, and Sun.

Through such as I is all great beauty bred;
passed on to fragrant air the blessings pour

to reap, from each who pass, of dying less,
and leave, for each to come, of loving more.


 May, like the rose, your beauty grow beyond,
the frost killed stalk and winter hardened thorn.

By your persistence keeping faith in life,
despite the tainted hearts and willful wrong.

Refreshed by loving end the longest day,
kept by kindness, as true as you were born;

to end in bloom beneath a cloudless sky,
a crown to bless the sun warmed softened thorn.