For the riches I have -- which I cannot lay one coin upon.
For the memories I carry.-- that I may still think.
For what strengths I still have -- though not what they were.
For the joy still to come.
For dreams I will manifest.
For love I will share.
For tears -- because I can grieve.
For fear -- because I know I still live.
For darkness -- to sooth aching eyes and heart.
For sunlight on my skin, caressing.
For my body that still works -- well enough.
All else is acid and gangrene and rust
Let me open my hands
Pour dross through my fingers.
I will learn gratitude. One day.
May 29th 2015
Al Katerinsky May the LORD bless you and guard you –
יְבָרֶכְךָ יהוה, וְיִשְׁמְרֶךָ
(Yevhārēkh-khā Adhōnāy veyishmerēkhā ...)
May the LORD make His face shed light upon you and be gracious unto you –
יָאֵר יהוה פָּנָיו אֵלֶיךָ, וִיחֻנֶּךָּ
("Yāʾēr Adhōnāy pānāw ēlekhā viḥunnékkā ...)
May the LORD lift up His face unto you and give you peace –
יִשָּׂא יהוה פָּנָיו אֵלֶיךָ, וְיָשֵׂם לְךָ שָׁלוֹם
("Yissā Adhōnāy pānāw ēlekhā viyāsēm lekhā shālōm.")
Al’s answer to my whine
So... this gratitude thing.
I still want to stamp my little feet
throw rocks at the sun
and fuss shake my fisties cry not be a grownup at all at all
May 29th 2015
Question for Hecate (May 30, 2015)
“Grandmother, how do I stop making the wrong decisions in my life, and by ‘wrong’ I mean detrimental to my comfort in this life?”
Ha! Who said anything about your comfort? Suck it up, Buttercup and shine! That’s what is ‘right’.
No matter what you feel, no matter how tired you are.
If you’re tired, dance harder! Don’t stop.
You’re taking yourself too seriously. How? Why? Silly, childish questions. The answer is ALWAYS
Because. That’s why.
You’re being a whiny, overtired brat right now.
Go sleep. Eat something. Breathe. Have some sex for fuck’s sake. Then come talk to me about ‘How’ and ‘Why’.
I’ll tell you right now, kid. The answer will still be Because. That’s why.
Have your tantrum child. It will not disturb me. It is all right. Mourn what you feel are your losses then you might begin to understand what blessings they truly are. Oh – and be grateful for people who listen to your tantrums and bless you with their love and attention anyway.
I will not cease loving you or showing you the way out of the darkness you have made with such thoroughness and diligence. I remind you that frail and tired and lonely people are still reaching out to you when you cry, despite their own hurts. Be grateful for them.
It’s not about you anyway.
How? Keep using the brain you’ve been given. Do your best. Don’t stop now. Oh-and listen to yourself when you tell others ‘It gets better’. No one but you is asking more than all you can give. One hundred percent – then stop.
On ‘stuff’. It’s not as if it’s going away. If you can’t have this particular bit of the cosmos RIGHT GODDESS DAMNED NOW It’s still all right there’s always more. Only in a world of scarcity can one fear loss and scarcity and abundance are both just attitudes with which to approach living. It’s like cookies. You can always make more. Or another kind of cookie. You can always find another beautiful whatsit, find another interesting stick, another pretty rock.
There’s no end to beauty, awe, glory, transcendence of all kinds. It is all change.
The idea of loss or negativity, of ‘wrong’ choices is just that. An idea. You cannot know the far reaching effects of your choices so you cannot judge them on their own merit. You just cannot process that kind of information.
You realize that do this (crying over your ‘losses’ in life) will damage your capacity for joy which is and should be considerable.
If I were a thundering boy in the sky I’d command you to stop on pain of fearful punishments. This suffering is its own punishment and, as always, is completely in your hands.
Your choice, Buttercup.