The bright sun on the white sand and rocks
Reflected a strong glare causing the eyes to water,
The blue sky empty of clouds opened up to infinity,
The cool breeze with the sweet smell of the salty water
Allowing calm to descend were just a moment ago was missing.
The sound of the waves pounding the beach,
So soothing its crashing upon the sand
Its rhythm allowing the mind to rest in peace deeper than sleep,
A refreshing break from simply existing apart,
Drawing into the oneness
Loss is a silent companion,
Its cold embrace,
Empty of all that was before
Fits like a black vest,
Forced up to the throat
Clinging in its need to feed.
With no where to go or hide
Since it is in the heart,
The center of life
That the void is felt.
Unrelenting in its lovemaking,
That leads only further down the road of loneliness,
Where all fears are felt to be true,
In a place that is shorn of all color or vibrancy.
To dare love
The frog sat without movement
Blinking in the mist laden air,
Surrounded by fog and padded silence;
Its color a bright green
With eyes large and dark
Lending a serene beauty
As it patiently waited for whatever it needed
Food or a mate I did not know
As it sat unmindful of its perfection,
Or the effect it had on me.
Had lunch with Leo this Wednesday, and decided to try a new place for lunch. Probably did it more for me than for him, since I am not sure he remembers our trips, at least in a detailed manner. He always responds positively to the new images that he gets from his surroundings, and also likes the music that is played over the speaker system. That day they were playing R & B tunes which he seems to enjoy very much. As usual I had to show him how to use his straw for the tea, but he caugh
Failure stared him in the face
Mocking all that he has ever tried to do,
Seeking to lead him down the path of regret,
That eventually can mature into despair
Leading into the world that is colored ever so softly
In shades of grey.
Easy on the eye but lifeless and silent,
The wrong kind that leads into nihilism,
A world in which nothing matters
Nothing last or is important.
The man was used to the world of soft shadows
Knowing well the dust filled land
A drought that choke
Joy is there
The light ever present enveloping
Upholding the one loved.
Often hidden but at work none the less even if in secret.
Slowly bringing to light the fruit long in coming
Overcoming the darkness of fear
That often haunts those who seek the good
The conflict often wounding
Forcing the broken to choose to move forward
That Joy will win out in the end
No matter how bleak it seems.
Life is not dark
Though at times it seems so
Each day so much like one before it
Just little differences
That make some stand out,
While the rest sink into forgetfulness,
Never again to see the light.
Buried in the cave beneath thought,
With roots deep,
Influencing in secret
That makes us a mystery to ourselves
In how we sometimes are.
Am I my past or am I my thoughts at this moment?
What will I be in the future?
Perhaps I am none o
The pain of the world,
Weighs heavily in all our hearts,
Some more in touch than others
With its depth.
Many hide from its sting
Anything to keep empathy,
That if allowed to grow
Will make the heart bleed,
Moan for all their brothers and sisters,
Suffering with no one to help,
Or to be with.
Does God weep?
Being present to all,
No way to deflect
Of all the children
There is a proverb that always seems to speak to me…..”Trust the process”…..a simple statement no doubt, but when meditated upon when going thru some change in life, can be very helpful, and even comforting.
Change can bring to the surface many conflicting emotions, and feelings; excitement, fear, and anxiety, with each flowing thru the conscious awareness one after another, sometimes perhaps being experienced all at once. Causing a swift experience of “ups” and “downs”, that can be unnervi
Learning a new job is like learning a new dance step. I remember when my sister-in-law tried to show me how to do the 2-step. Looks easy, and it is, but learning to do it without counting takes some time; meanwhile the actual counting also makes it hard to do, since it interferes with the actual rhythm that is needed to do anything right, be it dancing or not; to do it properly
Right now I am so busy trying to get all the “details” right that it takes me twice the time that it took Theresa to
He is like an infant now
In his geriatric chair
Table up so he cannot fall,
If he tries to stand up on his own.
He does not know he cannot walk
He stills smiles when his name is called
Laughs at jokes
Is present to those around
How much no one knows
He leans to his right
Almost over the arm rest
Nothing can be done to make him straight
When ask if he has pain
He responds he is comfortable
Eats only soft foods
Stating to have trouble taking meds
Early years (2 years Old) put in foster home
Became hyper self aware (still am)
No one to depend on
Hyper alert in a dark lonely place
This is abandonment
Something every child has to face at one time or another
Mine came sooner rather than later.
Had to be done
Parents came every weekend
I withheld my affection knowing they were leaving again.
Became self contained
Impersonal towards others
Unable to break this
As the years stacked up.
Choosing my battles
In taking care of the sick, there are two things that I have learned. The first is to choose my battles, to know what can be dealt with for the benefit of my patient, and what needs to be let go off, since to pursue it would only cause more harm than good. I suppose diet is one of the hardest things to deal with. For many of us our eating habits can be a bit compulsive and our choices bad for us. I have a man I am taking care of at this time, who is rapidly gaining wei
I often wonder what it will be like for me when I get old. As I take care of my patients I often picture myself in their position in the not so distant future, and wonder if I won’t be saying over and over again “so that was what it was like”.
Last night trying to clean Edmund, he got very angry at me, since he had no idea what I was doing. He did not want me to take off his wet clothes, or clean him. I spent about 30 minutes just talking softly to him, explaining what I was doing, which
I have been asked to give a talk on Anger, Resentment, and Forgiveness; a subject I feel I know a lot about, since anger is an issue that I have been dealing with all my life. I am not an intellectual, so my talks tend to be more autobiographical than anything else, and sometimes it gives me pause when I think about it.
One of the reasons I like blogging is that I have an avenue that I can simply state what I feel I need to state, and then send it to be read by people who really don’t know
Deep down in the depths
In places perceived as dark,
Hidden from view,
Or perhaps feared,
Is a knot,
Of the one who is its creator,
Even if brought forth unknown
Purposeful none the less
Even if its time is outlived,
It cannot be undone.
The burden heavy,
If not felt,
Its influence seen
The effects witnessed
By those who know the one suffering,
Who perhaps see their ref
There is a yearning in the human heart
Often going without a name,
Experienced as a wound by some,
By others a simple longing.
An inner thirst,
Showing no mercy to the Soul,
Allowing no permanent rest
Since it cannot be owned
But only sought.
This yearning points beyond what we have,
It almost seems that we are also pursued.
That being also yearned for
Is what draws us forward.
Seeking union with that which has no name,
Yet present in the
He is not the person he was once,
Cannot say what he wants,
Yet still knows he has something to say.
The frustration showing in his eyes
Aching to say something,
Anything that forms a complete thought,
But he cannot.
He is present,
Just in a different way,
That makes him seem absent
To those who perceive from outside.
In ways different than before,
Yet the fire,
And love still shine forth.
He reaches to tap me o
About a year and a half ago, when Leo, and Damian, first went into Morningside, I would take them out to lunch once a week. They both enjoyed it; the time spent with them was very pleasant and happy. They liked to go and get hamburgers, or perhaps a hotdog, and afterwards go over to Dairy Queen for some ice cream. They loved the ice cream Sundays with lots of syrup on it. This went one for a few weeks, but I had to stop since the director of Morningside told me that Damian would come back a
The sun beats down
Upon the one who thirsts,
Screaming for cool water,
The mind obsessed,
Each moment tormented.
The stream was heard from afar
The beauty of the sound
Than any sound ever heard,
The body frantic
With a joyful noise,
The crystal clear treasure
Flowed past rapidly,
Its smell intoxicating,
Almost leading to madness,
Until the hands cupped
The precious liqu