The Gifts of Age

After watching Mission Joy on Netflix, I found some excellent You Tube videos in the search for "Dalai Lama and Demond Tutu"-- some of which included other teachers in various spiritual traditions: Buddhist teacher Joan Halifax, Rabbi Rosen, Pastor Rob Bell, Sister Joan Chittister, and others. Carlene watched them all and we're enjoying talking about them. 

I ordered The Gift of Age by Joan Chittister for Carlene. It arrived last night and she was on page 100 by the time we talked this morning at 7:30.  

Here's her text:

Being so engrossed in this book a hundred pages in has so captured me that when I started to stand up I didn’t realize my right foot had been taking a nap …. So reminded me of something to be careful about in the midst of being free as a bird to get back on the bike and finish a morning ride on a sunny porch …. And touch eternity - sunrise or sunset - all is well!!

As Luci and I walked, I called Carlene and she said she couldn't put the book down.  She rides her stationary bike on the porch for twenty minutes, reads, goes for short walks, rocks on her porch and listens to music.  When friends come to visit, she treats them to lunch or dinner at a restaurant because she's "given up cooking."  She cooks for herself, simple healthy meals, and she loves graham crackers and fruit.  She'll be 98 in August, and she's remarkable!  

I haven't read the book, but I'd say whatever Carlene's been doing all these years has contributed to the bounty of gifts of aging that we all hope for! 

Waiting for Freda

 

"Is she coming or not?" 

"I think I hear her!" 

"Here she comes!" 

This is what my porch looks like after Luci hears Freda's voice on the phone.  She's so sure it's all about her! 

Last night I watched the first episode of the new season of Call the Midwives on PBS.  The entire season isn't streaming yet; the first episode is a sneak preview.  It made me cry, of course.  Every episode makes me cry--heartbreaking situations and the warmth of human compassion.

The first episode features a leader of Parliament stirring racial hatred among the people of Poplar, timeless and universal, unfortunately.  Immigrants from other countries who've made a life in England are frightened. A  Jamaican nurse is homesick for her family and home there.  A pregnant woman with four or five children has no money for a dentist.  Workers march with placards denigrating "people who don't belong here  taking our jobs." 

Another thing that made me teary yesterday:

A man wanted to pet Luci in the grocery store.  He told me he thinks she's part Corgi.  "We've had seven Corgis," he said, "The best dogs in the world, we think.  I recently lost my wife and the two dogs left are hers.  It's like having my wife with me and it's what keeps me alive." 

Generosity

This week's email writing group's prompt was generosity, given and received. 

Jan' wrote about implementing an idea she had shared with me on the porch one day.

She has asked all her family members to stop giving her presents forevermore and, instead, to perform acts of kindness in the world and write and tell her about it.  

The first adult grandchild to respond to the request wrote this after he received Jan's annual handmade Valentine's Day card:

"Grandma Jan thank you so much for the card! I look forward to it every year. I wanted to report to you some kind things I’d done recently as per your request. There are a lot of homeless people in New York City and I’d always felt a strange connection to the homeless. I’ve had many memorable interactions with them in San Antonio, Austin, and Chicago. But my exposure to them has been pretty constant here and over the past two weeks I’ve bought someone menstrual care supplies, another person a sandwich and coffee, and gave out about $10 in cash to different people."

This is an amazing response to a request from Grandma Jan! 

I predict that this inspiration will stay with these kids for years and some of them will pass these along to their future children.   I hope it goes viral! 

A day at the rodeo

The San Antonio Rodeo, since 1949, is a really big deal for cowboys and cowgirls, horse lovers, kids who raise livestock, and families who come for the carnival, corndogs, and fried funnel cakes.  At the big event each night, there are  rodeo stars and country music concerts.  

Twenty seven Valentines Days ago, Will remembers that Veronica saved up to buy tickets on Willie Nelson night to surprise him.  You'd think that would have cinched it for them, but as it turns out, they broke up after high school graduation, went their separate ways for 13 years, then found each other again and got married.  

Yesterday Freda and I went to the afternoon portion of rodeo to watch Elena's two events: barrel racing and poles.  Freda has been with me to several rodeos over the years and watched with me as Elena's moved from being a tiny girl in a saddle with her mom to an 11-year-old rider with confidence and skill that amazes me. 

Liz came too--Elena's best friend since kindergarten.  During a break she walked around the coliseum with us.  We saw foals whose mamas were buckers; white ponies who, as Freda pointed out, just needed a horn to be unicorns; wildlife from longhorns to quails.  We walked through a stinky cow barn and ate deep fried potato slices called Texas Twisters. 

Yesterday was such a Texas day, 82 degrees, country music, yellow school buses, tractors leveling the running field, girls weaving and racing across the field, their goals speed and not knocking down a barrel or a pole. 

Post-script

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=it0hR5cpHLg

After watching the documentary mentioned in the previous post, I've found this amazing video that continues the themes of compassion, forgiveness of self and others, and peace in a fractured world.  

This is an extended conversation with the Dalai Lama and Archbishop Tutu, filmed 8 years ago in Seattle, with questions and answers by children, middle-aged people, old people of many different traditions--including Rabbi Rosen, a Catholic nun, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists....

I have silenced my phone and decided that this is what I want to spend my morning doing--before Freda and I go to a rodeo this afternoon.  

Through the incredible gift of videographers and conference organizers, we get to see and hear the wisdom of these wise people talking to children present and people of all ages who can access this incredible conference.  

Young people in the room ask and sometimes answer the questions of others:

How do I forgive myself for something I've done?

How do I move on after tragedy?

Who and what inspired you and opened your heart when you were younger?

How can I transform my anger?

What strikes me as profound is the similarity of viewpoints of wise teachers of all traditions.  We see in today's America such posturing: I/we are right; we have the answers; we should ban and banish words and people who are not like us.  There are radicals in all faith traditions who mistreat other people in the name of their religious teachings.  

The conversations in this video are refreshing and radical in a far different way--they go to the root of the timeless truths.

"Love is not a luxury; it's a necessity.  It can save the world." 

Mission: Joy

My Valentine night included re-watching Mission: Joy/ Finding Happiness in Troubled Times. (Netflix)

Desmond Tutu and the Dalai Lama meet in India for an illuminating conversation, two aging bald men who radiate joy.  It's contagious!  Both times I watched it, I felt lighter, happier. 

When asked by his friend "Tutu," how he stands to be away from Tibet, his country, the Dalai Lama says that being a refugee gave him more opportunities to learn than living in a gilded cage would have.  It's all about learning, he said. One can learn from adversity as much as one can learn from ease.

"Wherever you have experienced much love, that is home."

Desmond Tutu sums it up like this: There is nothing worse than being thrown out of your home.  And yet you--you could be a sourpuss--have turned it into spreading love and compassion.  

"What is that word, sourpuss?" the Dalai Lama asks his translator.

"Just keep your face like that," Tutu tells him, imitating his look of confusion.  "But when you smile, you spread happiness." 

The film includes a short piece by a scientist tho studies happiness: studies actually show that people who do acts of kindness for others have a stronger immune system, are more productive, and live longer.  There's a difference, these two men agree, between "wise selfish and foolish selfish."  Wise selfish means taking care of yourself and the well being of others; foolish selfish is thinking only about yourself. 

I suggest you watch the rest for yourself....it's really good. 

Aftershocks: Everest and the Nepal Earthquake

The grandeur of Mt. Everest is a sight I'll never see in person, but it's breathtaking on the screen.  Set aside the beauty of a "United Nations of climbers," however, is the magnitude of destruction in the Netflix documentary, Aftershocks. 

The 3-part series focuses on the teams of climbers as well as the people of Nepal in the 2015 earthquake and shows how the international climbers and the people of Nepal interact before and after the tragic quake. 

A young woman named Sara is one of the climbers.  One of her college professors had suggested she do something really challenging to build her self-confidence--and she chose the Everest climb.  

To cross deep crevasses in the ice, they lay long metal ladders across, then holding on to ropes, wearing spiky shoes, they walk, listening for cracks in the ice and possible slides. 

This week over 36,000 people have died in the earthquakes in Syria and Turkey.  What we're seeing on the  screen on the news looks so much like the scenes in the Nepal earthquake 8 years ago. Unbelievable destruction of cities and homes, rescuers digging through rubble hoping to find signs of life, extractions of human bodies and occasionally--to shouts of celebration--a single life that can be saved. 

Super Bowl Sunday

Jan, Pam, L'Indy, Carolyn and I met at Paloma Blanca for dinner/happy hour.  It was cool enough that we were glad to have heaters at our outdoor table.  

I've been a semi-hermit for a while, not inclined to plan dates with friends weeks into the future.  But when a happy hour happens almost on the spur of the moment, I'm there.  In a red cap. 

None of us are Super Bowl watchers; we prefer conversations and cheesy Mexican food.

Carolyn (red checkered shirt) and I have been friends since 1974.

Pam (red glasses and red earrings) and I have been friends for nearly 20 years.

Jan (green scarf and green sweater) and I, best ever next door neighbors for over 20.

And L'Indy (Linda from Indiana, beautiful white hair) is a San Antonio Newbie who's loving getting to know San Antonio and making new friends. 

                         Feet:

I've had three relatively good feet days in a row, thanks to an excellent physical therapist and doing the exercises at home along with Voltarin and meds.  While the exercises may be the same whatever the cause, it matters to me to have an actual diagnosis,  post-traumatic arthritis.  

I probably had the beginnings of arthritis already, but an accident in September exacerbated it, tires running over my feet. It's taken months of seeking to finally find a term that could lead to a remedy. Before I knew what it was, I was throwing everything at it--chiropractic, massage, podiatry, new shoes, pills, Airossti, you name it.  

It was like pointing a water hose, the water spilling out willy nilly, doing little or no good.  Now, it's more like attaching a nozzle to the hose, making the efforts focused and more likely to hit what I'm aiming at. It's good to know what something is.

                        

           I spent the day cleaning and organizing my house to get ready for a little loveseat I ordered a couple of weeks ago from the Sundance catalog.  It won't be here for a few weeks, but it now has a spot waiting.  I called Jan for a furniture consult this afternoon and she came over and put her stamp of approval on having a loveseat rather than a sofa and made some valuable suggestions.  

Before settling on my little red loveseat, I visited most of the furniture stores in town.  The sofas were way too large for my little house--and most of them had to be ordered months in advance of delivery.  (This red loveseat should be here in March).  

If you're a person like me, your stuff should be small enough to push around because rearranging is so much fun!  That or everything you own should be on wheels. 

A short bucket list

Trusty Tiguan got repaired (in my driveway) for a fraction of the dealership's estimate, so we're ready to roll!

*

I stopped by Green Door to donate a bag of clothes. The volunteer was enchanted by Luci.  "I want a little dog exactly like that," she said.  "As soon as I get me a house, I want a dog.  I've never had my own house or a dog--so those are the my short bucket list."

She looked to be about my age, taking used clothes and lamps and dishes for people she'd likely never meet, wanting only two things. 

*

I used to want a Mini Cooper more than any material thing.  The first time I saw the now-vintage British Morris Mini driving down Broadway, it looked like a toy, like a picture in a children's book rolling off the page and into my heart. If anyone had asked me about a bucket list back then, still in my fifties, I would have probably said, "A Mini Cooper and a soulmate." 

*

Years ago, Blue introduced me to Leonard Cohen one night in writing group.  I stayed up all night listening to Leonard's Live in London concert.  I fell in love with his voice and lyrics.  I had missed him in the 70s and 80s, the teaching and child-rearing years, decades of not paying much attention to contemporary music. Except for Willie Nelson who sang two miles from our Helotes house.  We listened from the porch as the sounds drifted through the Hill Country from John T. Floore's Store.

*

Almost ten years ago I started this blog as I traveled solo to the west coast to celebrate my 65th birthday. My turquoise Mini still had Obama bumper stickers, and I felt peaceful, happy and wide open to adventure. Had anyone told me America would change as much as it has since then, I wouldn't have believed it.  Elena was just learning to walk.  

Now she rides rodeo and herds steer into a corral. 

*

Today, as all days, walking is hard for me. I do okay in the first two hours most days--but by 11:00, my hours of productivity are over. I waited all day to hear if anything showed up on my MRI that can be fixed.  Maybe tomorrow.  

*

The woman who wants a house and a dog may have traveled all over the world for all I know.  She may have married her soulmate, pursued an interesting career, not wanting to settle down.  Or like so many, she may have struggled all her life to pay the bills and rent. 

*

She could be like Dolly, the woman I gave my lawnmower to today--single, living in a house trailer that needs new skirting.  When she told me all the things she needed, I stopped her on lawnmower and offered her mine.  "Praise the Lord!" she said. "If you ever need anything, call me.  I'll be there in a heartbeat." 

*

My feet are resting now on a soothing beanbag Jan made for me years ago--heated in the microwave.  Jocelyn and Bob sent me a box of yummy chocolates for Valentine's Day--Starbucks chocolate covered grahams and organic Reese's.  I'm watching a documentary about Leonard Cohen and the seven years he spent writing "Hallelujah". 

*

The tablecloth I ordered arrived today.  I set the table for two--cloth napkins, green and yellow soup bowls.  I'm setting the table for the next chapter, getting ready for whatever's next when I feel like cooking again.  Tomorrow I may look for recipes. 

I don't have a bucket list, per se, but I do look forward to inviting friends for lunch soon.  That and happy feet.  

Imaging adventure

Six hours, total, and the MRI's are done.  

My 2:00 appointment was scheduled at the "boutique" imaging center where I go to for mammograms.  The waiting room is decorated in pastels, mostly pinks, and a large clear TV plays HGTV.  

In the MRI room, the enormous Siemen's machine is the newest model; its jackhammer and drilling noises partially muted by earphones.  Near the end of the procedure on one foot, the machine shut down due to weather, but I wasn't particularly bothered by it.  The rhythmic heartbeat sound during the 30-minute was actually soothing.  I got up and stretched. 

Then she tried again.  Same thing happened.  Due to the weather,  the lights in the room dimmed a time or two and there was nothing they could do until an engineer came to fix it. The next appointment was two weeks out.  

So from the desk of the friendly receptionist, they booked me for another one 17 miles away if I could get there in 30 minutes, which I did. 

The differences between the two clinics were stark.  The second waiting room was all brown, dark, and freezing cold. The receptionists seemed annoyed and grouchy.  The two tiny TVs were playing Hallmark channel but the screens were so snowy nobody was watching. My first and lasting impression was, "We don't care about our patients, we just want to move you in and out."

An hour after my scheduled appointment, I got up from my brown chair in the cold waiting room and asked the receptionist how long it would take.  "We're always behind," she said.  "Maybe half an hour or so?"  She grudgingly got me a thin blanket.

I told her I needed to get done before dark, that I preferred not to drive in the dark if the roads get icy.

At 5:00, I followed the technician down a long hall to the dressing room.  I put my phone, glasses,  pocket book and sweater in the locker.  But unlike the first clinic, there was no key and I couldn't read the combination without my glasses.  

The Seimen's machine looked old, but it stood up for the job.  The ear phones didn't mute the jackhammers and drill sounds.  

Lack of amenities and friendly faces notwithstanding, the job got done and I was relieved to walk out into the dark for my drive home.  

Cold and Wet in San Antonio

On Monday, I left the car at the VW to leave the car.  I've been so preoccupied with getting my walkers fixed that I've neglected the poor Tiguan.  The price tag for my "seven emergencies" was almost $6K, including over 2,000 for a new radio and speakers--which is not an emergency repair in my opinion.  It did, however, make me consider whether or not it's time for a trade-in.  Seals and covers and bushings--I have no idea what they are, but like Scarlet, I will think about that tomorrow.

Today I have three more MRIs to do on my feet.  That takes priority.  I did get an oil change to scotch me until I can get to the rest of the repairs, am seeing both Freda's and Will's mechanics before I proceed.

Luci should be glad she's a Texas dog.  When it's this cold, she gets into my lap in the car and shivers to beat the band.  I've never seen a dog shiver like that, in spite of her furry coat.  

I've enjoyed staying home, though, in this weather, with nowhere--until today--to go.  Watching New Amsterdam on Peacock has been my company.

In this hospital drama/social commentary, the docs find the source of pain within minutes.  They manage to fix up most patients with a pharmaceutical remedy or surgery.  If a patient has a rare blood type, the hospital administrator will fly to Bermuda to get a match.  If there's a blizzard, the docs find the patients in the snow and operate on the fly.  If someone has an MRI, they are told right there on the spot what is revealed.  

If New Amsterdam were a real hospital, I'd hop on a flight and go there, but it's not.  So here I go--putting on two sweaters and a jacket to go to the radiology clinic, hoping for answers for which there is a cure.