WHEREVER THERE IS WATER

31 janvier 2017

Not sure why, but today I am really hurting. Is it just the Trump administration, the coup d’etat we have all somewhat propagated just by our own personal inertia and self-interest? The constant negative energy floating throughout my house when my mother is home listening to repeats of CNN and MSNBC, Rachel Maddow and Chris Matthews pounding their indignation into viewers as if this were a prize-fight that might be won. That ain’t gonna do it, kids.

I get the indignation, don’t get me wrong on that. I am just tired of every one barking at me, from the fucking pitbull next door that my mother deigned to deal with (the dog attacked her on this property, bit her on the face, and sent her to the emergency room but Mom didn’t think that was any reason to have the dog put down) to Donald Dick’s Uncle Scrooge screamings and incoherence, all the while sporting that ridiculous hair piece.

I will stop for now. Today is the first day of the free yoga class at the senior center and I am going to try to relax.

Later.

The yoga class was good, kind of the perfect kick start for me. Not too hard, but not too easy, either. Kind of weird to be in a class with your 90-year old mother, but I should see that as a good thing, right?

An igloo sounds good about now, refreshing and isolated. I want less coming at me.

There is also the added stress of the upcoming 90th birthday fete for Janet.

The all of it is pressing down hard. My consciousness is being extruded. I feel flat and affectless. Oh! Remember anhedonic? That too (although the focaccia I just ate was pretty good).

So, here's a more positive polish: I picked up my feet to take care of myself today. I went into that yoga class barely able to touch the floor and left having stretched enough to get my hands on the floor in a standing forward bend. I did back bends. I relaxed my shoulders and neck. I focussed on my breathing. And I did leave the class with more energy, but that got sapped.

Janet says she feels the yoga from today. I had to cajole and bully her into going, and then, of course, she was glad she went. The instructor, Christina, was very excited to have a 90-year old former yoga instructor among her students.

So, having spoken to you all, had a moment of community with you, whether you knew it or not, I think I will to bed on the early side tonight. Perhaps what I need is another 10 hour sleep to pull up my pants, little or big girl, and get on with it.

THE FRENCH GENERALS

Whenever Jesus appears at the murky well,
I am there with my five hundred husbands.
It takes Jesus all day to mention their names.

The growing soul longs for mastery, but
The small men inside pull it into misery.
It is the nature of shame to have so many children.

Earth's name is "Abundance of Desires." The serpent
Sends out his split tongue and waves it
In the air scented with so many dark Napoleons.

A general ends his life in a small cottage
With damp sheets and useless French franc notes;
He keeps his plans of attack under his mattress.

I have said to the serpent: "This is your house."
I bring in the newspapers to make his nest cozy.
It is the nature of wanting to have many wives.

Sturdy rafters in lifejackets are pulled down
Till their toes touch the bottom of the Rogue River.
Wherever there is water there is someone drowning.

— Robert Bly, Stealing Sugar from the Castle: Selected and New Poems, 1950-2013