From new moon to full I rested. Such as it was…
Energy flushes,
peering out on Summers blue.
I am uplifted.
The near bell rings three
colored wings flit, garden green
a pause to reflect.
Those who’ve seen the previous post will know that under the watch of the new moon I found myself admitted to the ER with COVID where I spent nearly 3 days in darkness and isolation. Today is the full moon 17 days later. I have risen from bed near midday today, just for a few hours.
I chuckle reading the words of astrology in the inbox — “We really get to experience the saying, “what does not kill you will make you stronger””. You can say that again.
The past few weeks have been almost a comedy of errors, from the initial infection through the material damage done as an incident of being a quadriplegic isolated in an overstressed ER. Thanks to the dehydration and hard surfaces, the last 10 days at home have been a continued forced repose with IV antibiotics and deep tissue injuries which are naturally slow to heal.
Of course that might be enough for less adventurous souls, though it appears this one requires a little more spice along the way and the matter of finding adequate caregiving resource has posed a challenge as well.
Of course these challenges have not been mine alone and I have borne witness to numerous others, from nurses and doctors, to friends and family, care partners, and those truly stumbling who share this journey of compassion.
I wake and rise today to begin the gentle work of restoration and advance. There are many tasks I can accomplish from bed, though given the accessibility tools (to say nothing of direct sunshine ;-) available when I am up, today has begun with much clerical and a gradual return towards organization and clarity.
There is and has been a celebration in my heart. I have been graced with the good fortune to recall again and again in the darkness and the quiet and the noise and the light a sense of fullness and gratitude, an awe with the incalculable wideness of being, within which all of this Majesty and terror dances, an ocean beyond measure.
In stillness the eye
awakens, unblinking and
contains the ocean.
Poetry stretches towards what arises in this awareness.
Inside that space that has no outside except within, words come like water in the sky.
They tumble and dance, condensing into presence and disappearing into the formless blue. Colors radiate, pouring like light through the trees, reflections moving in perfect elegance, but they do not stay firm; light becomes dark, translucent luminescence becomes a rainbow that always was, perfect transparency with nothing beyond, a scape of sound and form and feeling both present and un-findable.
This self, its agonies, celebrations, and wonder form and disappear like ripples on a still pond under occasional gentle winds.
There is a light of inquiry, a resting witness, a place of heart that sees the seen, seeing, and self that sees. All of this whispers love and light and gratitude and a joyful generosity for all being.
I had such plans on that eve those days ago as the moon went dark. I have flowed, since then, downriver. Resting on my back, gazing upward, or eyes closed, a letting go has come.
Today I managed a few of the concrete bits. Bills, signatures, a clearing of the desk; tomorrow will be more of that, provided the wounds have weathered today as well as can be hoped.
I am remembering to listen more, thanks to the grace of beings unseen, memories from early in this lifetime, and thanks to Mr. Joshua Michael. I feel youthful and innocent, excited and hopeful as I humble myself inside this awareness that I might peer into the world to find once again the way it is always smiling back.
With love and light and yes, a little bit of longing…
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