IF YOU DO THE BEST THAT YOU CAN

And The Angels Sing stays in my head these days, because suddenly (at least in geologic time) everything did change. 

Days later.

The kitty koven has convinced Mom that they are half-starved as I heard the lid come off of a new can. I fed them an hour ago when I got up to make coffee. I heard Mom negotiating with one of them, saying “Can I make my coffee, first?” I didn’t hear yet another can opening, so I guess Mom won that one.

A rainy Monday Southern California. As usual, the orange bougainvillea branch sways with its own weight, reaching toward the sun that isn’t there. I should really tie it up and train it over the trellis but I do enjoy seeing that brilliance against the young green of the tangelo tree that is enjoying a growth spurt. Oh, what would it be like if I actually tended to my citrus trees and fertilized them? Some day.

DURING AN ILLNESS

A melting icicle, a leaking tap,

counting drops of medicine.

Tibet sees by water. We by tears.

Vladimir Holan, translation Jarmila and Ian Milner, from World Poetry: An Anthology of Verse from Antiquity to Our Time, Norton, 1998

"We by tears" sums it up for some of us and the sky is most certainly crying today.

ET sent me some coffee beans from Polcari's in Boston. Lucky us.

Writing interrupted by Vera Paris who was insistent about some quality lap time. She's now in position at the foot of the bed deciding if there is any noise coming from the kitchen that might need her inspection or attention.

The living room tv and cable box are down, even after another rescue attempt. I have offered her some DVDs from my limited collection, but they don't capture her attention. Mom has is challenged to watch narrative movies, so she mostly sits playing solitaire or staring off into space.  She sometimes cannot remember the media system is malfunctioning. We wait for a new cable box. My older sib and sis-in-law are springing for a new tv as well. But time goes by slowly when you can't read and it hurts to move much.

Teacher training has been fun. Not being able to touch one another and trying to keep social distance is trying, but we all do our best.

In our philosophy evening chat, we were getting into the eight limbs of yoga, the yamas and niyamas,, specifically. As we tossed around the concept of ahimsa, the subject of road rage came up. LLC said she tries to think that others, even bad drivers, are doing the best they can in that moment.

This is particularly challenging in these days of social distancing, that idea that people are doing the best they can. (Road rage is relatively unlikely given how few people are out at any given time.) I almost fainted at Trader Joe's last night when I saw a man with no protective mask or gloves walking right up next to people. I wondered if he were mentally ill or displaced or something. He looked like a summer bro, with a good tan,  shorted and t-shirted, for all the world nothing wrong.

It was hard to think that he was doing the best he could. I wondered if he did not have access to materials of protection. However, he was in no way concerned about social distancing or limiting his touch to only the things he was purchasing as he had to pick things up and put them down and then pick up something else before he made a choice. I wonder if he can read without mouthing all the words.

So, all of this is doing what? I have a VERY HARD TIME thinking that people do the best that they can ever, much less most of the time. LLC said that it calms her down and allows her to move on instead of getting caught up in her frustration and those exponents of negativity which can follow. And having done practiced that grace giving, it can calm me down.

However, the injustice and stupidity of not teaching people how to consider others, how to have a wider perspective, and even more modern rules of teaching people how to drive often fire my flames of anger again.

The best use of LLC's concept is with my mother, whose dementia is more marked in her isolation. I do try to defuse my impatience and frustration with her and that is working mostly.

Much of this Ry Cooder song, The Tattler does not obtain, but the chorus does and it is a great song. 

Whenever you find a man
That loves every woman he sees
There's always some kind of woman
That's a-puttin' him up a tree
Now that kind of man
He ain't got as much sense as a mule
You know, everyone don't love you
They're just a-playin' you for a fool

Mmmm, oh, no
It's not hard for you to understand
True love can be such a sweet harmony

If you just do the best that you can

If you marry the wrong kind of woman
And you get where you can't agree
Well, you just as well could get your hat
And let that woman be
But a man oughta make a good husband
And quit tryin' to lead a fast life
Goin' about dressin' up other women
Won't put clothes on his own wife

Mmmm, oh, no
It's not hard for you to understand
True love can be such a sweet harmony
If you do the best that you can


Well, there's lots of good women who wants to marry
And they wants to live well at home
But they're 'fraid they'll might get hold of a rowdy man
That can't let other women alone
And there's lots of good men now wants to marry
And they wants to live well at home
But every time they turn their back
There's a man there askin', "Darlin', is he gone?"


Mmmm, oh, no
It's not hard for you to understand
True love can be such a sweet harmony
If you do the best that you can
True love can be such a sweet harmony
If you do the best that you can

Lyrics by Cooder, Washington, and Titleman.

A little sweet slide gitar makes any day better.

Well, I am suited up for yoga and have not done too much of anything today besides make my bed and try to write this. Suddenly, it's almost 2:30. I plan to head over to Patrick's to practice teach on him and maybe get some good stretches in my shoulders.

Has anyone out there heard the word "Takomaq"? It's the culture from whence this poem. I got nowhere with Google on this.

I THINK OVER AGAIN MY SMALL ADVENTURES

I think over again my small adventures,
My ,fears.
Those small ones that seemed so big,
For all the vital things
I had to get to and to reach;
And yet there is only one great thing,
The only thing,
To live to see the great day that dawns
And the light that fills the world.

World Poetry: An Anthology of Verse from Antiquity to Our Time, Norton, 1998