Aiming to please

The thing is, there are just too many damn targets and you're bound to miss most of them. It's a set-up for failure.

So while I'd love for everyone to be happy, I give up on trying to make that happen. Let's see if I can make myself happy... and just hope it's contagious.

Ready, aim, fire!

My Sign

At about 9:30 Friday night I threw up. I was feeling agitated. I couldn't sit still. I was just out of sorts. And I couldn't stop thinking about Debbie. I was watching the "So You Think You Can Dance" show I'd DVR'd the night before to try to unwind and just take my mind off things. And thats when the song came on.

Feeling Good. I know the Nina Simone version, but it was the newer one that was playing on the show. Didn't matter though - it's all in the words. It's the song I told Ross I wanted everyone to hear in the event that I died of anything painful or long-suffering to let them know that I was ok. It's one of my "things". I'm always thinking of ways that I can let people know not to be too sad if anything ever happens.

The song played at 10:04pm. I looked at the clock as soon as it started because I'd been waiting to hear it. I was looking for my own sign and that was it. And then I just waited.

I got the call the next day. She passed at 10:01.

Thank you, Debbie, for sharing a part of your life with me. It was a pleasure knowing you. You inspire me.


FEELING GOOD (Anthony newley, leslie bricusse)

Birds flying high you know how I feel
Sun in the sky you know how I feel
Reeds driftin on by you know how I feel

(refrain:)
Its a new dawn
Its a new day
Its a new life
For me
And Im feeling good

Fish in the sea you know how I feel
River running free you know how I feel
Blossom in the tree you know how I feel

(refrain)

Dragonfly out in the sun you know what I mean, dont you know
Butterflies all havin fun you know what I mean
Sleep in peace when day is done
Thats what I mean

And this old world is a new world
And a bold world
For me

Stars when you shine you know how I feel
Scent of the pine you know how I feel
Oh freedom is mine
And I know how I feel

Looking for signs

I've been visiting whenever I can. Me and my little toolkit. Gold needles, frankincense and myrrh. She seemed to like geranium oil... Whatever I think might help. But I feel like I'm fumbling through this now... hoping it's divinity and not desperation that's guiding me.

Darlene is fighting for her. She does everything she can think of to allow her to make her own choice - but windows of opportunity seem to be closing. Obstacles popping up everywhere. And she can't discern truth from fear from hope from delusion. And neither can I. So she's asked for a sign. Just something to let her know which way to go... whether she needs help holding on or letting go. Maybe a Bonnie Raitt song. She'll keep the radio on.

I watched Darlene tell her that it's ok to go. I watched her flinch as she said the words. Her pain is palpable and it's hard to say who is suffering more. So please, a sign. Darlene needs a sign.

Her hand moved

I saw it move. Her palm was face down and I saw her try to move it, almost turned up and then dropped again. All in the space of a second. I had just finished massaging her feet and ankles and was stimulating the acupuncture needles in her ear. I was joking with her and Darlene about how my lowest grades in school were in massage... and her hand moved.

And I should have said something right then because she must have been trying to say something. I KNOW she was reacting. But Darlene was sharing a story and I got sidetracked. And I don't know how I can get sidetracked like that, but I did. And I forgot to get back to it. And I should have told Darlene. And I should have acknowledged it out loud so she knew that I saw her. Because I saw her! And I know it must have taken so much effort to move that way. And what torture it must be to try to communicate something and have it go unnoticed. But I noticed. I can't believe I didn't say so.

This morning when Darlene walked in, she grabbed her hand and brought it over to her heart. So she can. And she knows what's going on.

I don't think I can sleep until I get back there to tell her that I saw her move. I know it's just as much for me as for her, but I have to do everything I can.

What I can still do for her...

I can be grateful that I met her, was inspired by her, learned from her, laughed with her, shared with her, treated her, grew with her.... just witnessed what a f---ing amazing person she is... her spirit. Her openness. Her gratitude. Her humor.

I can learn some more. I can take everything I've learned and use it to help her or someone like her.... but there's no one like her... but someone else.

I can follow her example and be positive... just about everything.

I can take this compassion and just apply it in any direction I can think of.

And I can just keep on praying for her.

And I will.

Tayata Om Bhekandze Bhekandze Maha Bhekandze Radza Samungate Soha
Tayata Om Bhekandze Bhekandze Maha Bhekandze Radza Samungate Soha
Tayata Om Bhekandze Bhekandze Maha Bhekandze Radza Samungate Soha
Tayata Om Bhekandze Bhekandze Maha Bhekandze Radza Samungate Soha
Tayata Om Bhekandze Bhekandze Maha Bhekandze Radza Samungate Soha
Tayata Om Bhekandze Bhekandze Maha Bhekandze Radza Samungate Soha
Tayata Om Bhekandze Bhekandze Maha Bhekandze Radza Samungate Soha
Tayata Om Bhekandze Bhekandze Maha Bhekandze Radza Samungate Soha
Tayata Om Bhekandze Bhekandze Maha Bhekandze Radza Samungate Soha
Tayata Om Bhekandze Bhekandze Maha Bhekandze Radza Samungate Soha
Tayata Om Bhekandze Bhekandze Maha Bhekandze Radza Samungate Soha
Tayata Om Bhekandze Bhekandze Maha Bhekandze Radza Samungate Soha
Tayata Om Bhekandze Bhekandze Maha Bhekandze Radza Samungate Soha
Tayata Om Bhekandze Bhekandze Maha Bhekandze Radza Samungate Soha
Tayata Om Bhekandze Bhekandze Maha Bhekandze Radza Samungate Soha
Tayata Om Bhekandze Bhekandze Maha Bhekandze Radza Samungate Soha
Tayata Om Bhekandze Bhekandze Maha Bhekandze Radza Samungate Soha
Tayata Om Bhekandze Bhekandze Maha Bhekandze Radza Samungate Soha
Tayata Om Bhekandze Bhekandze Maha Bhekandze Radza Samungate Soha
Tayata Om Bhekandze Bhekandze Maha Bhekandze Radza Samungate Soha
Tayata Om Bhekandze Bhekandze Maha Bhekandze Radza Samungate Soha

It wasn't about me after all...

Scrappy's gone. He just stopped moving. Benjamin put him outside with the sunflowers we're trying to grow.

But I don't think it was all about Scrappy. I just really wanted that miracle. And I really want it for someone else, too....

And I don't know how to make it happen. And it doesn't look good.

And I'm really sad today.

Metamorphasis

I may have found a kindred spirit. Most unexpectedly.

We have been anxiously anticipating butterflies since we received a plastic container full of 5 fuzzy little caterpillars and some brown crud. And while I love that we can actually witness such an amazing phenomenon in our home, I've had to fake some of my enthusiasm because I'm still phobic about all these creepy crawlies... I mean, beautiful little creatures.

And yet I must be evolving somewhat because at one time I was one of those squeaky little girls who would squeal "Eeew! Kill it!" at the sight of any insect. Spiders especially.

So I'm getting there. Trying to be a good Buddhist. And while I can't quite embrace insects, I'm learning to respect them from a safe distance. But caterpillars in my house. That's a little too close.

However, I did get over it temporarily when that transformation started to take place. I found myself right up against the little mesh habitat, watching to see what would happen. And it was pretty amazing. Ok, and still a little disgusting if I'm to be totally honest. But amazing. We welcomed Cream Cheese, Sam, Max and Freebird back into the world and it was very exciting. But one of our butterflies got stuck in its chrysalis. It's bottom half wriggled on an off throughout the day, part of its wings struggling to flap and open while still wedged partially inside. At one point it looked as though it had given up. I figured it had died.

I saw it the next morning on the floor of the habitat, a crumpled mess. It had legs and antennae, but they were mangled and folded in odd directions. Big bulges on the side of its body seemed to be parts of the wings that were never allowed to unfurl... and then there were the partial wings that had been struggling from the day before. I felt a bit of relief that this butterfly never made it. And then Benjamin saw it move. And then there it was trying to fly. Shen and I decided to name it Scrappy.

And in the past 3 days, Scrappy has consumed me. We've set the other butterflies free, but though Scrappy made a valiant attempt to escape, we're keeping him. Feeding him orange slices and sugar water on balled up tissues, spraying him with water that I keep hoping will hydrate those withered wings and allow them to open. And it's only since Scrappy's arrival that I've been willing to do any of this myself. This little butterfly has got a bit of a hold on me. I really just can't bear to see it suffering. And I've developed a deep respect for it, the way it chugs along.

I've been wondering what's making me so determined to rehabilitate a butterfly. And a few things come to mind. Well, first, I really think it would be incredibly unfair for that poor caterpillar to go through such an enormous change only to come out crippled and disfigured... and incomplete. It didn't get to evolve into what it's supposed to be. The idea of that is making me crazy. Ok, so maybe it's a leap, but the idea of not fulfilling your destiny... spreading your wings... flying... completing your transformation... it's all striking me. I desperately want Scrappy to get his chance to fly. Ok, and me, too.

The second thought is that maybe I'm just finally developing some compassion for bugs.

Well, at least that means I'm moving in the right direction.