Reflections of My Life ( a blog about old age)

At some point we lose instant recall

I care for an elderly patient. She is special to me. Through her eyes, I see so much. Dreams that never were, aspirations that came to a dead-end. With all that is there, she cannot remember what it was she had. Even the memories that she held dear are vanishing into the fog – more each day becoming more unclear.

What do you have now that is precious to you? A life, a world, a memory? Hold fast to your dreams, your thoughts for one day they may be like the mist. You know it’s out there but there is so much that you can’t recall.

What can I do for this dear soul.  I can love and assure her and try to grab at  the pieces that are still part of her. One day those too will fly but I hope in those moments my memory will stand by.

Reflections of My Life ( a poem about one dear elderly woman)

I look into a glass and see
another woman who can she be
I touch her skin
I hear her voice
she isn’t me I have no choice

Everywhere I gaze I see
memories of the past-  of me
plates meticulously painted
by a grandmum dear
mother’s piano whose notes
were once clear

I close my eyes and hear
the steps of my children
running down the hall
when I look up
there is no one at all

The man who served in the fight
faithfully loved me
dedicated to what’s right
has gone on ahead
to a world where he is free

I ponder as I look
at the reflections
in the night
what will there be of me
tomorrow in the light

Blogging when sleep deprived

Best Blogging

When is your blogging the best?  Do ideas surge from your mind at the beginning of your day? Maybe you blog best when the day is coming to a close and life is quiet. It’s possible that you blog best when your life is in a frenzy. Have mobile phone will blog. Blogging can take place in traffic, on the train, during a boring conference…

Why Blog when tired?

Lately all of my blogging and my other writing, for that matter, has been occurring while I am sleep deprived. My definition of sleep deprivation? When you have less than four hours of sleep per night (or day in my case).

The good news about writing when you are sleep deprived is the words pour out on the page. Whether they make sense or not is another matter. The fact that I am blogging about sleep deprivation is an indication that I am at the end of my week. Three times five or fifteen hours of sleep for my week (yes I’m so sleep deprived that I’m writing my calculations out).

Functioning without sleep can be done

I didn’t used to believe it could be done. I worked with a Doctor in surgery who could go twenty days without ever having a full eight hours of sleep. How did he do it? I was intrigued so I interviewed him and watched him. He told me music, yoga, exercise, and reading stimulating books kept him awake. I won’t tell you where this Doctor performs surgery in the event you end up at his hospital.  I still don’t know how he did it. He didn’t just need to keep his eyes open he had to skillfully hold a scalpel and apply just the right amount of pressure to each incision. I can’t cycle for fear of falling off my bike.   Reading a stimulating book will put me to sleep.

What’s up with alpha?

When I was in Hawaii, I learned that dolphins sometimes swim in alpha mode. Their brain, during that time,  is on low power. They swim while they are half awake/ half asleep. So if you are wondering what I am talking about; I am simply writing in alpha mode. I am half asleep /half awake. Talking about Hawaii makes me want to lay on the hot sand and (yes you guessed it) SLEEP.

Just Sleep!

You might ask why don’t you just sleep. If I could sleep, I would but I realized I can’t sleep during the day and I work at night – so there you have it one very sleep deprived writer by day nurse by night. So when you are writing at an ungodly hour on little or no sleep, think of me. (snooze)

P.S. I love editor types – you can give my words sense.

Reflections of My Life ( a blog about old age)

At some point we lose instant recall

I care for an elderly patient. She is special to me. Through her eyes, I see so much. Dreams that never were, aspirations that came to a dead-end. With all that is there, she cannot remember what it was she had. Even the memories that she held dear are vanishing into the fog – more each day becoming more unclear.

What do you have now that is precious to you? A life, a world, a memory? Hold fast to your dreams, your thoughts for one day they may be like the mist. You know it’s out there but there is so much that you can’t recall.

What can I do for this dear soul.  I can love and assure her and try to grab at  the pieces that are still part of her. One day those too will fly but I hope in those moments my memory will stand by.

Reflections of My Life ( a poem about one dear elderly woman)

I look into a glass and see
another woman who can she be
I touch her skin
I hear her voice
she isn’t me I have no choice

Everywhere I gaze I see
memories of the past-  of me
plates meticulously painted
by a grandmum dear
mother’s piano whose notes
were once clear

I close my eyes and hear
the steps of my children
running down the hall
when I look up
there is no one at all

The man who served in the fight
faithfully loved me
dedicated to what’s right
has gone on ahead
to a world where he is free

I ponder as I look
at the reflections
in the night
what will there be of me
tomorrow in the light

Photograph: Chalmers Butterfield

The Child Becomes a Woman (a poem)

The small child a girl
Prayed to have arms to embrace
Hear words of love
For once feel safe

The growing girl
Hoped for value as a friend
Part of secrets part of play
Wanted friends on whom she could depend

The woman once a child
Waited for the heart of one
The desire to be dear
Feel the passion of love

These three in one
Waited hoped and prayed
Knowing that one day
Love would forge its way


What is it about a New Year?

What is it about a New Year?

We get all excited hoping for more than we ever thought or dreamed of before. We have entered into year ten of the new millennium- hopefully we are in a “groove” by now. What’s new about 2010? The most profound thing is the hope that is attached. The last several years have been wrought with decline, despair, drought, depression. Could 2010 be the year that pulls us up out of the free fall? Our world would love to hear that hope and prosperity are just around the corner.

What is there?

Though there is no promise of prosperity, there is this: There is the potential in our lives, our communities, our world to dig in and make a difference.

One blogger mentioned that we shouldn’t let the Christmas spirit go this year – that we should continue in a spirit of generosity throughout  the year. Another blogger is anticipating learning, loving and living in 2010. Dustus wrote about the New Year  as “A passage to peaceful tomorrows.”

There are so many ways we can “pass into” 2010 and  make a difference. We can contribute to peace, love,and  learning. Many schools have literacy programs and welcome volunteers to spend an hour a day or a week to read with a child, food pantries and clothing closets ,now that the holidays are over, will need renewed commitment in donations, non-profits serving the community need donations (both monetary and tangible), I’ve been in the non-profit sector for years. They are under a constant barrage of needs and a small trickle of encouragement.

It requires…

It’s 2010, let’s make this a year of hope, peace, life and love. Instilling these things doesn’t t happen by osmosis -it requires US doing something!

“Insight” to begin the New Year

The “I” s have it. or they will in my life in 2010. What is it about the words that start with “I”?

I promise you it is not intentional that I keep running into a wall of  “I”s.

This one just came at me while I was reading something a poet wrote. It’s insight. That’s a handy thing to have as one begins a New Year.

According to Wikipedia

Insight can be used with several related meanings:

Insight  – the magnifying glass

Insight is like the magnifying glass that reveals things that would otherwise stay hidden. As a writer this “magnifying glass” helps me see into the lives of my characters and the world they live in. As a poet, this “magnifying glass” brings out color, shape, and feelings that would otherwise be dull and lifeless.

Where do we get insight?

I’d love to know where others get there insight from. Any takers?

For me it comes from a variety of sources. The first source is from my master, my creator – where I believe all my creative energy originates and what little common sense I possess . I have amazing friends who are writers, poets, artists who reveal things I am too dense to see myself. Study and more study is the last source.

“It’s a glimpse of something I can’t quite make out then a certain part of my brain kicks in and starts explaining it.  The ability to interpret ‘it’ had been there all the time.”  An insight from a poet friend.

I am certain that we can function on a shortage of some things but a shortage of insight my mean we bang our head into the “proverbial” wall often.

I’m Learning from the “I”s:

Inept: I learned I need to think before I speak or write

Impulsive: I’m learning to think before I act   (I did get the medical submission for my new friend tweeked.  She was sooo grateful – That’s probably why I continue to help others on impulse.)

Insight: I will gain this in the long-run from looking at life thoroughly

We are on the brink of a New Year – Hoping that 2010 is a year of inspiration, peace, and insight to you!!!!

photograph: Jon Moon ‘Chapel Pond – NY”

The Beauty of Winter

Winter is beautiful…

Driving through the Sacramento Delta region, I get a glimpse of a cold, stark but beautiful scene. Rather than miles of new fallen snow, the scene is gray with dark shapes reaching for the sky – a perfect contrast. A painting or photo may catch some of the serene beauty but could never catch the feeling of nature waiting for spring.

The Gray Landscape (poem)

Blanket of stillness

horizon of gray

No life in the slough

All life is away

Trees reach up to cry

No character no color

nothing but stark skeletons

against the sky

Herons take their stand

In statue-like pose

white against haze

no place for repose

Nothing moves

color is bland

cold winter landscape

Emptiness at hand

Photograph: Sharon Mollerus  http://www.clairity.org