Tag Archives: bladder cancer


Although it’s not Winter Solstice for a few days, you could fool me. I was as excited as a kid to wake up and see the snow. Where I live there are lots of trees. There is a woods behind me and several trees on two sides. Only from the front window do I see a road and a neighbor’s house. The branches on these trees look glorious. That’s a word I don’t use too often. An online dictionary tells me glorious means “characterized by great beauty and splendor.” Yes.

I am not quite a monk but almost. The writing class I was taking and the one I was teaching are over now. All week I have gone out only twice — once to deliver meals and once to get dog bones and wrapping paper. Most of my days consisted of reading, writing, meditation, and keeping up with the outside world through my laptop. It’s hard to be in silence when you live with three dogs. They are spoiled Western dogs but you’d think they were starving on the street the way they act sometimes. Still, they calm down eventually and sometimes I do, too, enough to chant OOOOOOOMMMMMMMM. I like it especially when I awake before it’s light outside. Granted, sometimes I carry my first cup of coffee into my Meditation Room.

I have come to the conclusion lately that I’ve been too hard on myself. If I don’t leap out of bed, eager for an early morning meditation, I’ve failed. I set near impossible standards for myself. I also realize how much I worry about . . . well, lots: money, the future. I find it hard to stay in the present although being retired, I “have” more time to try. I worry about Mr. G with his bladder cancer; he has moved to Pennsylvania in a retirement village close to his son. At 88, he will have to decide whether to risk bladder surgery or “just” do the radiation and chemotherapy. I call him every Friday when I deliver meals and he’s not there. I am a codependent bodhisattva — yet isn’t codependence part of the personality trait of someone who vows to save the world?

I’ve become excruciatingly aware of my Witness and my ego/self. Guess it’s a natural evolution of my life right now. I’ll just keep watching and listening and occasionally I’ll share some of my life here.


between Hafiz & the Troubadours, I’m covered

“Remember for just one minute of the day, it would be best to try looking upon yourself more as God does, for She knows your true royal nature.”

This quote from Hafiz is one that could be permanently taped on my forehead; but then I’d have to rely on the mirror of other people to tell me this. Tonight I experienced the Troubadours of Divine Bliss in a more ‘real’ way. I took my laptop to College Hill Coffee Company since I had to finish the lesson plan for the online class first thing tomorrow. I heard several new songs from the Troubadours and got hugs during the break.

It was afterwards, though, that it got real. I got to talk to Renee Ananda more than usual. Guessed her for an air sign, discovered she’s a Gemini. Asked if I could help them pack up the cables and the instruments. “No,” she replied, “You can just talk to me.” It was relaxing and fun. I got to know Randy the mandolin player, too. He shares a love of kirtan and is one of the mellowest Leos I’ve ever met. Aim Me asked how I was doing and heard my concern about the 87 year old in my life with bladder cancer (Mr. G). It wasn’t the conversations so much, the literal words, but the listening and the love.

So when they sang a song inspired by Rumi, one thing led to another and, with the internet at my lap, I turned to the lesser known Hafiz who I’ve come to admire. I hadn’t run across this quote, though. One of those bliss moments that arrive when you least expect it.

Yeah, I needed that reminder.