Christmas greetings to you

Downtown fountain lit for Christmas.

Happy eve of Christmas eve to all of you.  It seems like Christmas with decorations and sparkling lights, but the weather is warm and filled with humidity. No solstice fire this year and no hearth fire either.  But it is all okay here. Warm days to go to the barn and ride. And a good few days on the boat last week were just what I needed. 

On the boat last week with great weather.

We are having another quiet Christmas this year. Just the two of us.  I had a few moments of sadness when I looked at old ornaments and old tags from presents given in year's past. I do miss those who are no longer here.  And I know that I will for the rest of my life. They have left a hole that can't be filled. And that's the way it is for all who miss loved ones. So I let the feelings flow through me. And the sadness passed.

For the first time, we are going to have our dinner on Christmas Eve.  And then on Christmas Day we are going to take a ham to the homeless living under the big bridge and gather with other volunteers to feed them.  We need nothing this year. We have so much.  And for me, doing for others is really what it's all about.

Later, I will take a meal to an elderly couple that I visit every year.  And they will have a good Christmas dinner while we talk about a lot of things that have been going on in their life and mine.  They like to hear about the horse and the boat adventures.

I remember my father going to visit his old friends on Christmas. He would take something, maybe a fruit cake, to the man who ran the store across from the farm where he grew up.  All of those people are gone now.  The farm is gone too, with the land gone fallow.  But I find that the older I get, the more I repeat the things that I remember from childhood--the deeds that I thought were kind and generous.  I like to think that I got the best parts of my parents' character.  And that connects me to them as I do those things that I remember them doing that touched my heart.

So I am wishing each of you a Merry Christmas, happy holiday, and season's greetings.  Whether you celebrate of not,  I hope that you have time to relax and just be.

All is calm, all is bright. 

Every day matters

Thank you for all the thoughts and comments as both C. and I had our ninth year in recovery.  I told my story at two meetings, and each time I have a different slant. In one I start from the beginning and in the next, I am starting at where I am now.

I remember the first time that I shared my story at a meeting. I had written down a few things I wanted to share. I didn't know how to speak from the heart then.  I thought that I needed notes to help me organize my thoughts. I don't do that anymore and haven't for several years.  I simply share from the heart, not feeling anything but gratitude for the progress that I have made in coming to terms with who I am and how I was affected by alcoholism.

The main message that I have is that it is so good to be living life without a huge amount of fear and anxiety.  I don't have active alcoholism in my life. It is a blessing.  And I don't focus much on the past anymore, not the bad parts of it anyway.  There is too much to do in the present right now.  I want to hold onto that as much as I can.

Today, I rode for several miles around the farm and properties near by.  It was a good morning, with a hint of fall in the air.  I see the cloudless sulfur butterflies as they move through on their migration.  Some of the trees are starting to change color as the days get shorter. The garden is still producing, but already we are putting in our fall and winter vegetables.  My favorite time of year is coming.

It seems that every day is one to cherish.  And as a blogger friend used to write, "Every day matters."

 

A day of thanks

The rain is coming down today.  It's a good day to stay inside. I can't decide whether to get busy with a project or simply take it easy.  Right now, I am looking outside the bedroom window sitting on the window seat. This is what I see.

There is really more color to the leaves than the photo shows. This is a glorious time in the Lowcountry.  All the maples and sumac and gum trees are in their glory.  Soon enough the leaves will be gone and only the pines and oaks will provide leaves of dark green.  

The other day I was riding down our road on horseback.  And this is what I saw: 

The fog was there in the early morning across the pecan orchard when I started my ride and then on the way back, it was clearing and revealed incredible points of light shining through the old oaks.  I am indeed fortunate to live where I do. 

According to recent travel magazines the nearby city is ranked number one in the US and number two in the world.  I don't think that is possible, but then I don't live in the city or understand how these ratings are determined.  I suppose the habitats of marshes and maritime forests and beaches and the historic aspects make it so popular.  

Who would have thought though that this place that I call home now would be a top ranked destination?  Thank goodness, our little island is still in low profile. But I wonder how long it will take before the crush of development heads this way.  I hope a long time.  So far drugs haven't been a huge problem out here and crime is low.  I wonder how long that will last.  We are secluded which is either a good thing or not.  And I am not a gun toter which I view as a good thing.  The further I can get away from all of the city's problems with crime and drugs, the happier I am.  

Since I got back from Virginia,  I have felt much at peace.  We managed to get all the plants into the greenhouses before the freeze.  And the actual freeze was minor here with most of the plants surviving, except for a few annuals that were on their last legs anyway.  The egg plant died but the peppers weren't affected by the freeze.  The winter crops are growing.  And we surely did need this heavy rain today.  

At times, I still feel isolated from people. My isolation is an old pattern, no doubt from being around heavy drinking and alcoholism as a child.  I work on my tendency to isolate by going to meetings, heading to the barn to ride, to the gym or to the marina, and getting together with a few friends for dinner or lunch.  I know the old pattern and that what I tell myself is not necessarily the best thing when it comes to dealing with people. 

Wednesday is our wedding anniversary.  We are going to dinner and a movie. For Thanksgiving, it will be the two of us, although we may go visit some friends in the afternoon.  I think that Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays are hard on those who don't have family. But there are many people out there who feel the same.  And some of those have a lot of family but the feeling of apartness is still there.  Filling the empty hole within takes work. 

So I am wishing you a day of thanks for those that you have in your life and good memories of those that aren't with you.  Peace and love.  

Another week gone before I can blink

The weather has finally turned to fall here.  I was out on the boat for several days this week and have to say that it was something that I have missed.  The boat is my sanctuary, my place to get away from anything complicated. Sometimes there are unexpected visitors who just pass by and say "hello".

The only complication that I have had in the last week was having a kidney stone which was a terrible pain.  I've not had the pleasure of dealing with that before and hope to not have one again.  I went to the ER because the pain came on suddenly late in the evening.  And I could not stop vomiting after each wave of pain.  Anyway, I am okay now.  The ER doc told me it was like the pain experienced by women in childbirth.  I have a new appreciation for that level of pain.

The winter garden is finally in.  It is a great relief to have the tired summer plants removed and the winter ones in the ground.  It takes a lot of work to maintain things around here.  The older we get the more it seems to take too.

The service for my friend and mentor was a high Catholic funeral mass. I had just gotten out of the ER and was still feeling dopey from the pain medications they had given me.  When the priest said that my friend was gone forever from this life--laughter gone, voice gone, smiles gone--well, I had to smile because I have voice messages on my phone wishing me a happy birthday last year and other messages that I like to listen to.  And I have the memories of our time spent together.  Gone from sight is true but living on in my memory as long as possible.

Today, we are going to an oyster roast which should be a good time.  It's the first one of the season.  We are enjoying all that Fall brings. We have had several fires in the outdoor fireplace, and last night had dinner on the deck sitting around the fire.  Life is going smoothly right now.  I am glad that there is peace and quiet in my little world.  I keep hoping that will extend outward as I do my part to convey the happiness that I feel inside.

Afterlife

My friend and mentor is dying. I went to see him today at the Hospice Center, knowing that his death will come very soon. He was unresponsive. I have read that hearing is the last sense to go, so I talked to him and read one of my favorite poems to him.

His birthday is in another week so I read Dylan Thomas's Poem in October. I remember how this poem touched something deep inside me when I first read it years ago. It has been a poem for me to gauge the passing of my years. My thirtieth year to heaven is long gone but these words still ring true:

"My birthday began with the water- 
Birds and the birds of the winged trees flying my name 
Above the farms and the white horses 
And I rose And walked abroad in shower of all my days...." 

Sitting next to my friend and watching his breathing in and out, made me think about what lies beyond death. I told him that I would see him on the other side. I don't know what the other side will be, but I know what I would like it to be. It would be what I experienced this week on the boat.

My ideal would be to see the sun rise over the ocean, as it pushed back the night and painted the sea with silver and gold, shimmering like diamonds on the surface. The way it flooded the dunes with an ambient magical light that was warm and beautiful, bouncing off the clouds.  I watched the dolphins cruise by and the seagulls fly overhead.  I watched the formations of pelicans soar on the thermal air currents as they flew in front of the waves.  I watched the dogs run through the surf wagging their tails and admired the reflection of the vast sky overhead in the tidal pools.  I admired the way the clouds changed color as the sun rose and how they drifted over the sea slowly and languidly changing shape and form.  I listened to the birds singing in the trees and marveled at how many wildflowers were blooming and how they covered the dunes.  I was uplifted to see the butterflies migrate down the beach, and the sound of crickets was music to my soul.  I appreciated life at the moment because it was beautiful and meaningful to me.  

So I don't  know what Heaven looks like and do not deny or accept how others see it.  But when I looked around and above this morning and felt the experience I had right then in that moment, the peace it gave me, I believe I saw my Heaven all around me.

Not my zoo, not my monkey

I've heard the expression "not my zoo, not my monkey" a lot lately.  It reminds me of my desire to mind my own business and not get caught up in a lot of drama that wreaks my peace of mind (=serenity).

I have spent a lot of time wreaking my peace of mind by being involved in situations that were not only dramatic but harmful and unhealthy.  I do my best to avoid people that create a lot of drama, beckoning me to be part of their "zoo".

Things go well for me when I am around healthy, intelligent, mindful and compassionate people.  Some of these are working a program of recovery and some are simply enlightened enough about themselves to be in harmony with those around them.  I learn a lot from people who are loving, vulnerable, humble and authentic.  I seem to be at peace when I am with them.

But social interactions aren't always idyllic.  Plenty of people out in the world are restless, irritable and discontent with who they are and emit a negative vibe that can ensnare me in the zoo.  Like the saying, "monkey see, monkey do", if I am around "unhealthy" people enough, then I begin to take on their attributes.

Take, for example, a discussion with my wife who is my touchstone in so many ways.  We both have found a healthy way to express our feelings. We have learned to navigate in a relationship that was unhealthy to where we respond to each other with love, empathy and understanding.  Consequently, our love has grown.  We talk about how we feel when there is a misunderstanding, rather than trying to justify, argue, be defensive or make excuses.

Have you been around someone who goes on the attack when a problem comes up?  I have a friend who is a dry drunk but sober for 24 years.  He is definitely restless, irritable and discontent with much in his life.  After a few years of unemployment, he now has a good job.  Yet he complains about having to be "on call" when it doesn't suit his agenda. Nothing seems to be his fault; rather, everyone else is messed up or is making mistakes. If I am around him for any length of time, I begin to feel impatient and irritable too.

So instead of getting sucked into being captured in a cage in the zoo, I detach and get away from people when they are in a hurtful, blaming, angry and vindictive state of mind.  While it is important to me to work on myself and my behaviors, to see my past and present, one of the things I have learned is it is impossible for me get mentally and emotionally healthy while I am involved in unhealthy relationships. If I stay too long, then all of my worst shortcomings emerge. Generally, there isn't just one sick person in a relationship: there are two.

My choices are important because if I find myself in the same situation again and again, then it's my doing that put me in the zoo. I am a "stick it out" kind of person, loyal to a fault. But what that has meant is that I have done the same dance with different people over and over.

I do see my reactions to others have changed in recent years. I don't focus so much on what needs to be changed in them, but about what I need to change and what my motives are for being in a relationship with difficult and unhealthy people. I don't have a magical solution. But I trust my gut feelings.  I observe my dynamics with others, inventory my feelings, detach rather try to change people. I ask myself if what I am doing and who I am with is what I want in my life. Do the people bring me peace? Do I feel loved? Can I trust the person? These are hard questions but necessary for me if I am going to feel uncaged. And that, my friends, is what I place as being most important in life these days.

About humility

I've had a busy time lately.  It seems that this is the season to do a lot of things, go to a lot of places, and see a lot of people.  And in all of this, I've been thinking about the importance of doing for others and the balance that requires.

I don't like to make Christmas about my getting things.  Instead, I like to think about what I am giving out to make things a little bit easier, happier for someone else.  Looking at my motives, it does make me uncomfortable to say that I want anything because I seem to have so much.  I've had a lot of material things all my life--a good home, good cars, enough money, a good education. Nothing extravagant but enough.

I've especially realized this past year that the way we live is way more comfortable than many.  And I've also realized that there is a whole other stratosphere out there where people really do spend a couple hundred thousand dollars on a wedding, or give a lover several hundred thousand to cover debts, or donate a couple of million to charities. I have been there first hand to see these things and realize that I am not comfortable among those who are among the upper 1%.

I don't want this to be a post about disparity in wealth but about humility. The people that I visit who are Hospice patients remind me how much I have.  I drove around yesterday to their homes, delivering Christmas cookies.  I felt sad that some live in houses that aren't so great. I wanted to give more to them than some cookies.  But the one thing that they seemed to have was happiness to see someone stop by and just talk a bit, spend some time with them, and wish them well.  I felt more at home with them than I do in the multi-million dollar homes.
 
I know that I haven't been humble for much of my life. In fact, I spent a lot of time being competitive, trying to be better than my peers at grant-writing, publishing, sports, etc.  When I was growing up, being average wasn't something that was encouraged. Both of my parents instilled in me that I was better than others in looks, brains, and ability.  I knew though that this wasn't really true.  I didn't believe what they said because I didn't think that I was special but actually lesser than average.

I didn't let on about those inner feelings though.  Instead, I worked hard to win. I worked hard to be somebody.  I worked hard to be better-than.  I wasn't boastful just determined to keep pushing ahead.  Inwardly, I was terrified but outwardly, I appeared to be a hard working success.  It was disingenuous at its best and down right fakery at its worst.

I have read that humility is about being teachable.  C. S. Lewis wrote: “True humility is not thinking less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less.”  And then there is this quote on ways to practice humility:

"To speak as little as possible of one's self.

To mind one's own business.

Not to want to manage other people's affairs.

To avoid curiosity.

To accept contradictions and correction cheerfully.

To pass over the mistakes of others.

To accept insults and injuries.

To accept being slighted, forgotten and disliked.

To be kind and gentle even under provocation.

Never to stand on one's dignity.

To choose always the hardest.” ~ Mother Teresa, The Joy in Loving: A Guide to Daily Living

I stumble over these things. I am curious by nature. I don't accept contradictions as gracefully as I would like. I don't like to be insulted or injured.  So I still fail at being humble.

I have learned though that I can mind my business and be okay. I can avoid being boastful.  I don't want to manage other people's lives. I am much kinder and gentler with others.  I know life isn't about winning or losing.  It's not about my having more things.  It's about what the inside of me feels like when I live each day.

Just a simple awareness of who I really am is humbling.  And I don't have to defend my position in order to be better than others.  Rather,  I want to be more useful to others.  And that is something that generates a lot of good feelings about me and living life.

Weddings and boats

I just got back in from several days on the boat.  It was a great time, as usual. The dolphins were particularly active--jumping out of the water and putting on a show.  The days were warm, but we slept under a light cover at night. Fall is definitely coming to the Lowcountry.  

I didn't do much on my iPad while I was out, so I have a lot of catching up to do on blogs.  Before I left on the boat, I was processing photos taken from my first volunteer activity for Hospice--a wedding shoot.  That has kept me busy for hours. 

The mother of the groom is in Hospice, and the wedding was held at her home.  It was a country wedding with kids and dogs milling around.  A pig had been roasting for 2 days so the reception had BBQ and all the fixings.  The mother of the groom made the bouquets.  I have to say that it was a happy time.  Nothing fancy at all, but there was a lot of caring and loving people enjoying the wedding.  

I shot a lot of photos and am going to finish them up this weekend so I can get them to the family.  I have to say that it was a lot of fun.  I was busy every moment after I arrived and continued shooting photos until dark.  No kidding what has been said about wedding photography--carry two cameras and shoot every detail; follow the bride; and get it right because there aren't any retakes. 

Hospice likes the idea of my doing photography for memory books to give to the family.  The staff have two more photographic requests for me to do.  Who knows, maybe the idea of photographing the remaining days and hours before life's end is going to be helpful. 

Last night, I went to a meeting to chair after getting off the boat.  I washed the salt off, went to the meeting, and got home around 9:30 PM.  I was tired and my legs ached too.  Lots of exercise on the beach and swimming over the last three days.  I generally get dehydrated on the boat so that may be the cause of the aching legs.  

This morning I am going to process some photos, go to a meeting and then do some cleaning on the boat in the early afternoon. After that, I'm coming home to stay for the rest of the weekend.  If I could, though, I would be out there on the water still.  It is the place of ultimate peace.

Hallowed ground

I am out on the boat for a few days. Today has been hot, but the sea breeze and a thunderstorm are now cooling things down.  I didn't row to the beach this afternoon because of the heat. This evening I took one of the dogs in the dinghy to shore for a walk, and we watched the skies darken. Eventually, we rowed back to the boat to close the hatches and ports.

I feel renewed once again by being out here on this boat and in this place that provides so much peace. Tomorrow is the anniversary of the fierce Civil War battle that took place on the island. So many slaughtered and left to rot on the beach. Most of those killed were the Massachusetts 54th, a regiment of African American soldiers. But the Battery on the island held, and the Harbor remained under control of the Confederates as did the city. Sherman decided to ravage the capital city instead of coming to the old port city so strongly defended. 

So much violence and death to defend a way of life abhorrant to many. I treat this island with much respect. It is hallowed ground. Now there is nothing but the sound of the wind, waves and birds. I feel fortunate to be here. 

Remembering my cousin

My first cousin died this morning. He suffered from a brain tumor for years, and the quality of his life has really been minimal for the last six years, with the last six months being especially bad.  I am glad that he no longer is hovering between life and death.  It was time for him to die because he was not going to be cured.

I feel so much relief that his ordeal is over. I have been anticipating this call for months.  When I talked with his wife, she seemed to be at peace and handling his death calmly.  But I know that her life has just shifted in a monumental way.  Care taking for him all these years and now not having that purpose must be an abrupt change, compounded by her grief and the loss of a man she loved so much.

Although there isn't going to be a memorial service right away, my cousin's wife asked that we remember him in our own way.  So this afternoon,  I went to the garden and thought about the good times that we spent as kids.  We would often hide in the rows of pole beans, chasing each other across the planted field that separated our houses. And that would cause us to get in a lot of trouble with my father who treasured his tomatoes, beans and strawberries.  We often got into trouble of some sort, but we were just being kids. All of that seems like it happened a million years ago at the moment.

So I remembered him, dug potatoes, and picked beans.  Digging through the dark, rich earth passed the time.  And tomorrow, we are having a picnic for some recovery friends. We are going to make potato salad from the ones dug today.  And there will be tossed salad, burgers, brats, baked beans, red rice, and berry pies with ice cream.  The storm has passed by, the winds have ceased, and my cousin has completed his life. It all seems to be peaceful and as it is supposed to be.

An old photo of my cousin as part of the May Day court so many years ago.  I have one of him holding me when I was about a month old.  

Today is good

We went to the boat yesterday and spent the night. It was good to get out of the house and change our routine. We ate steamed oysters, homemade vegetable soup and had a good breakfast this morning.

Just for today neither of us talked about the dead or dying. It has felt like a near normal day. I did visit Pop and fed him some lunch, ice cream and a fruit cup. He ate with some enthusiasm, like a bird opening its mouth with each morsel coming near.

This coming week we will start the sad task of going through clothes and packing up Mom's personal items. Both my wife and I agree that we will take our time and not push ourselves. There is no immediacy really.

I heard from my cousin's wife that he is still in ICU with a ventilator and feeding tube. She said that he has a living will; but she is choosing to disregard it, convinced that he will become healed. I am sad that his wishes are ignored, and he basically is being kept alive until his brain is killed by the tumor. I suppose one has to make sure that the living will is ironclad and the person entrusted to carry it out will indeed do that.  Once again, I have to let go of this situation.

Anyway, I hope that you are enjoying your Sunday. We have had a nice day.

The illusion and the journey

I received a call last evening that my first cousin, who has been struggling with the worst type of brain tumor for six years, is unresponsive and not expected to live through the weekend.  Evidently the glioblastoma is causing severe edema on the brain.  He has outlived the statistics for this deadly tumor by several years.

He and I grew up together in Virginia, living next door and sharing many adventures. He is three years older than I so he was the one who I followed as a child to learn about the woods and making forts.  We remained close over the years, and he is my closest living relative.

His wife has cared for him since diagnosis.  She has eschewed the prognosis of doctors and embraced spiritual healing for both of them.  In the beginning when she would tell me about the crystals, the invasion of his body by his deceased mother who had many issues of her own, and how the healers were working to rid his body of his mother's tentacles, I thought that she needed the padded room.   But as I listened to her, I respected that she had every right to believe what she did.  Who was I to tell her what to believe or judge her for those beliefs?  

Last night, she told me that he will have a shamanic death in which he will decide to die and not return,  or will die and come back healed.  She spoke of the illusion that she had of his getting well.  Now she has let go of the illusion but keeps her belief that he has to have his journey.  She was calm and accepting.  I listened and asked a few questions to determine whether he was responsive or not.  She doesn't want any family to be there.  I would like to tell him good bye but will do that from afar.

I know that he has received so much love from her.  She has sacrificed herself to give him strength, trying to love him well.  I hope that the transition comes soon and that she is able to have a life for herself without him.  


I cured with the power that came through me. Of course, it was not I who cured, it was the power from the Outer World, the visions and the ceremonies had only made me like a hole through which the power could come to the two-leggeds.  If I thought that I was doing it myself, the hole would close up and no power could come through. Then everything I could do would be foolish. ~Black Elk - Oglala Sioux

The priceless gift of serenity

The weather turned chilly and windy a few days ago. It has been a roller coaster of warm balmy weather followed by seasonal temperatures.  I'm not complaining because both are good.  The chilly temperatures make it a little more difficult to do things on the boat, but when I come home to a warm house and a fire going in the gathering room, it's wonderful. 

Yesterday, we baked pies and pound cakes. The coconut pies and boxed pound cakes above are some of our gifts to friends.  The cookies were baked last night and will be part of the food at the open house we are having for recovery folks on Boxing Day.  So far there are 36 people coming.  It seems a little bit overwhelming at this point.  But I'm sure we will have enough food for them, and it will all be fine.  I like that with so many people around, they can entertain themselves.  

I went to my last meetings before Christmas.  I think that there will be a meeting on Christmas night.  I'm glad that the meetings continue regardless of the day.  Someone who needs a respite, peace, and a safe place to be will find that in a meeting.  There is a place for people to be on days when the world seems too much or the season just a bit too jolly.  That is such a good thing. 

I remember when my wife was first sober, we took a ham and cake over to a meeting on the other side of town.  So many people were there who had no family or other place they wanted to be. The AA club house was open all day with meetings going throughout the day and into Christmas night.  It was truly something that I will remember for many years and still brings tears to my eyes.  Both her sponsors who were there that day are dead.  Others that she truly liked have died or moved away. But I'm sure many will be there on Christmas day to be with their fellows and enjoy the priceless gift of serenity. 

Sunday being

The much hyped cold front kind of fizzled out here.  There were a few drops of rain last night but not enough to amount to much.  The humidity is the killer here today--89%.  Working on the boat yesterday was doable because of the breeze.  Otherwise, it would have been miserable at the marina.

Fall is my favorite time in the Lowcountry.  It just takes its sweet time getting here.  And the secret is that when it does arrive, the tourists have mostly left, there aren't long lines at restaurants,  the beaches are not crowded, and my favorite anchorages are all but deserted.  

My days have been messed up because of going on a mid-week cruise on the boat.  For some reason, it felt like Friday was Monday.  I even drove to meet a fellow I sponsor on Friday and was surprised that he didn't show up.  That's because we meet on Monday!  Today, I've finally gotten back to real time and know that it's Sunday.

Some neighbors at the marina got married yesterday on the beach of the island that I go to almost every week.  Last night, we were supposed to go to the reception on their boat.  These folks are heavy drinkers.  We started walking over to their boat and heard all the celebratory commotion.  My wife put her arm on mine and said, "Do you really want to go over there?"  I told her that I didn't but would go if she wanted to.  We both decided that we weren't in the mood for the party.  Instead, we walked back to the boat and sat on the dock enjoying the breeze.  It seemed a much better way to spend our time together.

We don't have any special plans today.  Maybe we will start packing up the dishes in the kitchen because everything has to be removed before the new cabinets go in.  Maybe we will drive to the beach or boat.  Maybe we will take a nap.  Maybe we will......The possibilities are endless.  It's Sunday and a good day to just be.

Healing the soul

I am out on the boat today. It is a beautiful day. I am grateful to be here--to walk on the beach, swim, enjoy the sunrise and ocean breeze.

I talked to J. about her mother. She is wondering what she could have done to prevent the suicide. I am sorry that she is feeling so responsible for something that was beyond her control. I had a lot of "what if" thoughts after my father died suddenly. A suicide is different though. The long term effects of such a devastating tragedy are hard to know.

I appreciate your comments and thoughts. I have not lived through such a tragedy. My frame of reference is limited. We will do what we can to help her out.

And even I wonder whether a person who is in so much pain would not benefit from a day like today on the water. Nature is healing. I discovered a few years ago that there are places to go that can help heal whatever wounds have occurred. My spirit is content, my being peaceful.

Easing into morning

Being on the water and staying on the boat is working its magic. Just to get out of the house, strip down to bare bodies, and soak in the sun and salt air is a cure for so much.

This morning I got up early, drank a tincture of olive oil and lemon juice and then did an hour of yoga on deck. My back is better today, not feeling stiff. I like the meditation and focus on flexibility. I left sleeping beauty inside but she was soon up and moving about. We have no agenda today because it is just another day in paradise.

An acquaintance has attached himself to me and texts every weekend to find out where I am anchored. He likes to come out on his boat and hang out. Every weekend is a bit much though. I come out to get away from obligations, including the social ones. Time to let him know in a gentle non-damaging way that this boat is not the hang out spot. I sense he is lonely, but I know better than to sacrifice my enjoyment for the sake of others. It leads to resentment.

Time to have a real breakfast now. I'm cooking for her this morning. Breakfast in the cockpit with my wife and our Labrador seems like a way to ease into late morning.

Come on and follow me

Sadly, my friend M. died on the evening of July 4.  He went peacefully and in the comfort of his family.  It crossed my mind that he would go that day.  I thought about him as I watched the fireworks, thinking that life is too damn short for some and too long for others.

I had a dream about him last night.  We were together on one of our marine science adventures.  I was trying to find my way, and he told me to "Come on and follow me."  In time, I will.

He will live on in my memories--that smile, his New England stoicism, calling me "Kiddo", hikes through the marsh, talking to his family and having me talk to them, his love for his dog, and his boundless energy and love for his work.  I am the better person for having known him.

Sunday morning

We had such a fun day yesterday. Two of the cruising groups I belong to had parties at the same location. We were anchored near the inlet with access to a nice sandy beach.

We were the host boat for the noon and early afternoon group. People brought shrimp, salads, cooked ribs and corn, making quite a feast. One of the boats rafted up was a Herreshoff Mobjack, a classic wooden boat. I really like the old classic boats, and there is nothing quite like a wood boat. But the maintenance is huge, especially in this climate.

After the one group left, it was time for dinner with the next cruising group. They are more of a partying crowd, but promptly at 7 PM, the food and drink were packed up and everyone said good night.

By this time, we were exhausted. Amelia, our dog, had been petted and hugged a lot. She was ready to lie on her dog bed, which she promptly did when we got back to our boat.

Thus far, we have been lazing about. I took Amelia to shore. We'll get underway later, after a nap. I'm sorry to see the weekend go because I start sea school next week. It will be intense with a lot of cramming of information. I hope that I haven't forgotten how to cram!

What are you doing today that's fun? I hope the day is going well.

Moon dance

We had a good time today. After the storm last evening, the skies cleared and the temperature dropped to cool us off.

Our dog shared a good walk on the beach. We looked at horseshoe crabs, Sargassum weed that had blown onshore, ghost crabs, and even picked up some shark's teeth.

In the afternoon, many more boats arrived with the partying crowd. The stereos blasted rap competing with some Dylan. Young women were dancing on the boats. People were diving from the tuna towers of the sport fishing boats. It's really a miracle that no one has died here in an alcohol related accident.

Finally, around 6 PM, almost all the boats were gone. A couple that we know was anchored nearby in their sailboat. We later joined them after dinner to watch the moon dance on the water and talk about boats and share stories of sailing.

Now, we are back on our boat and settled in for the night. The breeze is light, and the moonlight is shining on the water. It's time to be rocked gently to sleep.

Freedom for me

I struggle some days to come up with something to post on this blog.  Nothing much has changed from day to day lately.  My life is fairly predictable at the moment.  I meditate in the morning, read the paper and some blog posts, do something physically challenging (=exercise), go to meetings, visit the boat, spend time with my wife and dogs, meet with sponsees, and read, write in my journal and on this blog.

There is so little drama and chaos at the moment.  I attribute that to inner peace, grace, luck, the way the stars are lined up, retirement--who knows for sure.  I simply accept the peace that has come and am grateful for it.  The feeling of contentment is like drifting on a smooth ocean, lazily aware of what is around me but not concerned about storms or blustery winds or being run over by a huge container ship, or highjacked by pirates.

I've noticed that the posts that get the most comments are those that occur during times of crisis and sadness.  People reach out to lend a steadying voice.  That voice is within me most days now.  I feel it guiding me in my daily life.  Not reacting to annoyances of life with anger or self-pity is a great gift.  The gift has been acquired slowly and requires daily maintenance.  I tend it as I would a delicate plant or one of my beloved dogs.

I still struggle internally with my own demons of rejection and abandonment. But their voices are muted for the most part because I realize that they can be drowned out by new voices of hope, friendship, love, and acceptance.  I feel apart of so much these days.  I have no power struggles, no achievements that I must tout, no one breathing down my neck to produce more.  This feels like freedom to me on all fronts.

The skeleton key unlocks the mind and swings open the door of imagination. A far better place than here A much safer place than there The quintessential somewhere The mystical nowhere The enigmatic anywhere My gift to you - the key to everywhere.
The mortal will find itself lost while the soul always knows the way it is grateful for the darkness and celebrates the day
I can give you peace my peace I give you... but I cannot be your savior or your god - I cannot be the light along your path - I can only give you the lamp and point the way.
The blind will see... the deaf will hear... but those who choose reason will never understand.
Woe to the ones who think they know the answers they will cease to ask the questions that may be their own salvation.
We possess the knowledge of the Universe from conception. Once born we are taught to forget.
If we cannot look out at our world and see our children's vision then we are truly blind we are unable to lead them to paradise.
Even people who are in the dark search for their shadows. Shadows exist only if there is light. We will never find total darkness - not even in death... ...and we always cast a shadow no matter how overcast our skies become. You are never alone."
Do not listen to the voice that shouts to you from behind desks behind podiums behind altars. Do not pay attention to the orators and the opportunists. Do not be distracted by the promises made behind masks. Listen to the quiet. Listen to the whispers as they gently guide you through the assaults of man's absurdities. Listen to the gentle breathing of your mother and lay your head to rest in her peace and in her warm embrace and understand that truth and power lie within you. Breathe silence.
The free bird will always return to the cage sooner or later to seek food and water and the loving hand of it's caretaker. ― M. Teresa Clayton