It was an absolutely delightful weekend. The weather was my kind of perfect: sunny, low 70s, breezy, dry. It was way too nice to go anywhere near my computer. I realize now why so many turn to Facebook or Instagram or Tumblr -- those quick takes one can easily access or post by cell phone. Blogging by cell phone is really tricky and not pleasant. So I chose to just live instead. I finished a good book called
The Art of Hearing Heartbeats. I gave it three stars out of five - which still means good, but not among my favorites. I started a new book yesterday called
Missoula. This one will be a difficult one to get through. I may have to re-read
The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry to get the images out of my mind and get back to a book I truly enjoyed reading.
Yoga thought: was amazing Saturday morning. At the end of each class, after coming "to" from meditation, our teacher reads us a short phrase and repeats it once as we lie there before getting up for final yoga mudra - to send us off with a good message. The message was for us to try to go through the entire day without uttering one single complaint. She added, "you might find you don't have a lot to say." I giggled. Silently, but visibly. It wasn't her usual type parting phrase. I thought to myself that it would be easy for me to do. I am not really that much of a complainer. I tend to be relatively optimistic or at least calm. So imagine my surprise that I caught myself not once but twice later that day in complaining mode - once verbally and the other internally as thoughts. I am going to try to be more conscious of not complaining. Wise words, those.
We received some extremely difficult and heart-breaking news recently. I now have two people dear to me who have cancer that is metastatic. That means cancer that was once thought "gone" and in remission is back and is spread. And there is no cure. There is only finding the best path to a good, but finite amount of time left as living - and hopefully living with pain in check. Today's StoryPeople.com piece seems to reflect the natural reaction to dealing with this kind of challenge. Any matter of the heart presents a choice, really, in how we react. I want to be bold and courageous. I want to jump in loving the last that we have with people - however long it is - and yet it is so emotionally difficult at times, we want to jump in with just one foot in order to have the other ready for a quick get away in case our hearts get into something we are not ready for yet. (Fear, sadness, avoidance...)
I have had experience "living with" the dying before. The more I reflect on it, it doesn't take courage so much as love. Simply love. And so - I am going to be bold and hope that it rubs off on others too. Let us all be bold together.
"The Zen master Ling Chi said that the miracle is not to walk on burning charcoal or in the thin air or on the water; the miracle is just to walk on earth. You breathe in. You become aware of the fact that you are alive. You are still alive and you are walking on this beautiful planet . . . .The greatest of all miracles is to be alive." 
