2016/12/02 Canada, Ontario, York, Newmarket, Southlake Regional Hospital, Intensive Care Unit
Today, without hope of the once expected ovation, she finally rises from her bed at 5 am, dresses in the slow, fluid motion of repetition, and awaits (for several hours) her ride in silent, tearful prayer of awakening to a guilt-ridden, unhappy reality born of life’s happenings. Morning breaks the shadow of night without dispelling its hold upon her aching, brave heart. In the most unexpected and unwelcome moment of her life, she cuddles her companion, best friend, lover, and father of their eight children. He knows her presence and feels the rhythm from her beating heart upon his chest as he lies in stillness. A monitor records his relaxing blood pressure with her touch. His hand placed with loving tenderness upon her wrist, by one who sets the stage and draws the curtains before exiting the room, feels orchestrated to signal the unseen Conductor of the last intimate minutes they share, an intermission in a symphony lasting over 38 years. One extra day of hearing the almost inaudible background murmuring humming from a machine calculated to administer medicines and oxygen plays a tearful rendition before its final notes will sound for the gathering family. No, she is not ready. Unbelievable developments, hastening the ebb of evening’s charms, wash ashore then begin receding quickly with the breath of his life. He leaves behind his body, family, and dreams they share for a future no longer theirs to enjoy. She looks upwards to the corner of the room where a light seems to speak to her, a tender, merciful kiss in time, before it vanishes, filling her with peaceful sadness.
Awakening to a new sense of being spreads rippling effects, just as a pebble cast into a lake splash, creating circular, outspreading motions, a wonder to behold with its influential sphere. Choosing the right stone affects witnessing spectacular skimming and pebble dancing resulting in either large or small ripples. Unfortunately, many attempts fail but, I doggedly continue the exercise, hoping to succeed in my quest to excel. Desiring to extend beyond the furthest outreach gives me focus in my shore search for prospective long-range skipping stones until I tire and quit, satisfied that, for the time being, I can enjoy my accomplishment. Another day, another try, or perhaps not. Time, unable to go back, except by miraculous power, continues, and I wake until I will no more, but not by my hand or choice. Suddenly my eyes open to see more than a child’s game and consider the span of my outreach as the sun shimmers across my disruptions. An analogy surfaces in the watery voyages of my life’s happenings. Walking along the shores or wading, either in sandals or bare feet, I awaken to a vision of self beyond my limited reach, adversity, affliction, and sight when connecting to nature, thereby enriching my spirit with hope, love, peace, and comforting thoughts.
2019/11/20 South Pacific, New Zealand, Picton
What is this feeling rippling over, under, and through me, this sense of something changing within, a newness trying to escape the silken, comforting threads of a homey web, the birthing of a creature I do not recognize? A certain excitement tingles as cautious wriggling begins to stretch beyond my comprehension. Which pebble, skimmed by who, what, where, or why dances across the surface of my heart? Learning about myself challenges my perspectives and perceptions, and nature presents soul-filled freshness. Friendships, talents, faults, weaknesses, self-esteem, and the image in that deep searching, discriminately poised mirror of life, staring into my blue eyes, boring with the impact of a Jackhammer through every sinewy fibrous tissue and muscle, vibrate with rippling reflections in my heart. What is truth in the eye of this beholder? Over two years ago, three this upcoming February (2020), we met, and here I am again enjoying his company. Forgetting my plans to involve him in an excursion, I walk aimless, alone, listening to the sound of love skimming without that sinking feeling. My pebble continues dancing as far as I can see.
The rippling effects of my chosen pebbles and rocks of personal experience witness I sometimes abandon a tedious search, impetuously choose, allow distractions to sidetrack my variety, or feel sufficiently pleased with my efforts. This time, however, I see far past the first touch, held in the mesmerizing, hypnotic trance of sunlight glistening in the ripples, dancing like diamonds. I look at the tethered strap on my ankle and sigh.
Why? It might be impatience, missteps, streaking adventurous wandering, experiencing the less traveled path, independence, curiosity, naivety, determination, desire to please others, or simply, my innocent nature of childlike wonder, and ignorance that in hindsight maps my trailing ripples with bloodied cuts, scrapes, bruises, and scars of life’s greatest gifts. Each reminds me of where I have been, what I felt, and the people I treasure, all sparkling gems, in making up a crown of jewels this life of mine offers in the refining fires of affliction, attraction, and love. Awakening is itself, an adventure in living, experiencing, feeling, and hoping.
2020/11/26 She eagerly takes a carrying sack from the trunk of her car and begins unpacking its contents. After all, it is 7 degrees Celsius, overcast with fog as thick as soup casting a blanketing spell on her senses. Pausing for a chat with two incredulous strangers at her adventurous nature, they question her sanity. After confirming others knew her plans, they smile with the words, “I hope we don’t read about you in the paper.” She assured them the only thing a reporter could write would be about a crazy woman enjoying paddleboarding. The fog eventually dissipates.
2020/12/02 Dreading this day, she lies awake, insecure, and uneasy. Four years, she repeats over and over to herself. Outside, a thick covering of snow weighs tree limbs, branches, and needles in beauty, lit with glistening sparkles from a bright sun. “Don’t let the sun fool you,” she jokingly reminds herself as she dresses in layers for a perfect paddleboarding day. Upon arriving at the beach, the strength of the cold north wind foils her desire, and she abandons her plan, returning home, unlike yesterday. Surprised by her feelings, she gratefully sits to write and remember two very different awakenings. Yesterday prepared her for yesterday’s tomorrow, today.
I wake each day by God’s grace. Now I am learning to let those wakings be awakenings within my soul, aided by the effects of His creations, nature that nurtures my spirit, life, and loves. What are, and will be my ripples through time and space? How diligent will I be in searching for the best pebbles and learning from those that appear to sink on impact?
I am blessed with so many intangible gemstones. These are the most precious of all the gifts bestowed upon my head, heart, and life. They shine bright in my grateful heart!
Life happens . . . so do Awakenings
