The Coming of Light, What We Need is Here, and Surviving Has Made me Crazy

I've had so much to write and think about lately, I'm not sure where to start. We've had our 25th anniversary trip to Paris, we've welcomed our long-haired son back for the summer and watched as he transformed himself into a young business intern, we are getting ready for KT's graduation from high school and thinking about our lives post kids, and finally I've made a significant change in my work life, and all of this is exciting and weighty and full of what matters, but not always easy.

Thankfully, my wonderful journaling/writing class is under weigh, and as usual, the writing prompts always seem to get to the heart of what I'm struggling with.  Let's take the job thing.  I have needed a change for a long time.  Truthfully, I am trying to admit to myself that I have been living with advanced disease for 7 years now, and I've been very lucky, but I really want some time.  Time, that is, to smell all the roadside flowers, to watch every lacrosse game, to play with my sister more, to tinker in my lovely garden, to reconnect with old friends and treasure current ones, to write and write, and to read and read and read.  I am not giving up, and I am not going to sit and stew about my fate.  I am going to live.  This is not sinking into the dark, but maximizing the light, I think.  I am going to hold on to what really matters, and I'm going to learn new things. I am going to read every good book, I am going to uncover the intricacies of the fine camembert cheese that I fell in love with in France, I am going to be a bee keeper's apprentice, I am going to touch the red clay at the French Open, and I'm going to hit a tennis ball again.  I will organize our crazy household and cook....a lot.  Ah, this feels so good to say, it must be right.

We had a wonderful time in Paris and on our river cruise up the Seine.  I now have a model garden to work from as I work on my own, Giverny.  This was so beautiful; even with lots of people around.  Why didn't I know that Paris is so wonderful?  Chip and I have agreed to go back and spend more time eating and walking and drinking....heaven.  We also really loved the river cruising, even though we were much younger than most of the people on the boat.  We really loved the pace, especially for my lovely workaholic hubby.  We slowed down and enjoyed the ride as we passed medieval towns and crumbling castles.  On to the Danube next, perhaps!

And then there's Katie.  What is better than being 17, going to prom, graduating from high school, being in college, having a summer job and a first love?  what, really?  Although she is very good at teaching us how to let go, she is also quite wonderful and maturing and hysterical.  We will miss her a great deal, but  she is well prepared and very ready.  Hopefully, she will be as happy in college as her brother (and we are sure she will be)!  I think the greater difficulty is determining how are lives will go without any kids around.  While we have been sweating this a bit, after the fun we had in Paris, I think we will find each other again, and that feels really good.

how about a poem or two:

What We Need is Here (Wendell Berry)

Geese appear high over us

Pass, and the sky closes.  Abandon,

As in love or sleep, holds

Them to their way, clear

In the ancient faith: what we need

Is here.  And we pray, not

For new earth or heaven, but to be

Quiet in heart, and in eye,

Clear.  What we need is here.

the Coming of light (Mark Strand)

Even this late it happens:
the coming of love, the coming of light. 
You wake and the candles are lit as if by themselves, 
stars gather, dreams pour into your pillows, 
sending up warm bouquets of air.
Even this late the bones of the body shine 
and tomorrow's dust flares into breath.

 Surviving
Has Made Me Crazy (Mark Nepo)

I
eat flowers now and birds follow me.
I
open myself like an inlet
And
dolphin energies
Swim
on through.
Wherever
I go, I remain silent
And
the silence begins to glow
Till
one eye in the light
Outsees
two in the dark.
When
asked, I now hesitate
For
there are so many ways
To
love the earth.
I
water things now constantly:
Water
the hearts of dead friends with light,
the
scores of the living with anything warm,
water
the skies with a thousand affections
and
follow the voices of animals
into
grasses that move like ocean.
I
eat flowers now and birds come.
I
eat care and things to love arrive.
I
eat time and as I age
Whatever
I swallow grows timeless.
I
eat and undie
And
water my doubts
With
silence and birds come.