Seeing Clearly

Monday, February 4, 2008

hello, all-

today I will talk to the insurance folks about my poor car and get some pre-op stuff done, like a complete physical, and an ekg. Also will be seeing my therapist/spiritual guide Daniel and checking with my neurosurgeon to make sure my head is still intact!:)

yesterday Annie, Adrian and I went to Best Buy and got a HUGE tv....Bobbi, Barb and Joe helped me put together the tv stand from target (what an adventure: talk to Bobbi the Builder about that one!) and hook up the tv while daughter Becky, my soul mate in the eye department, gave me some encouraging words about living with one eye...another beloved person in my life, Julie Wennekes, who I met as a freshman at Hope a million years ago, is pretty much sightless in one eye, and she tells me, no problem. In addition, a certain educator I know confided in me that he is also blind in the left eye! So, my friends, I am learning fast that losing an eye is going to be interesting but not debilitating. I have also decided to make my prosthesis a real work of art....anyone have some ideas for a subtly abstract design? (or not so subtle....check out the cloud eye on my doc's website!)

Anyway, Bobbi and I ate the rest of the delicious food Carolyn cooked and sent over on Saturday --thanks, Eric, for the yummy veggie quiche and soup! Sherry also was involved in the madness yesterday--she is hauling me around today and helping me deal with the insurance stuff and pay the bills.

I am looking at my house with the future in mind and realize that my stairway is very dimly lit and is going to be not so good when my depth perception goes away. I could use some help from somebody on that. I also need to get another car and am looking for a used Rav-4--it's small, the visibility is good and I used to have one--so guys, keep your eyes open for one of those!

I miss my kids but don't want them to worry, nor do I want any of you to fret, because I am safely held, at peace and grateful for my incredibly blessed life...love you guys....more later...

claud

ps--feel free to ask my about all of this--happy to share!

5 comments:

annie hagar said...: you are amazing! i am so glad jon and i can be there for you next week. call me soon, mammie. love you.

anna; February 4, 2008 at 8:58 AM
loucamper said...: Claudia, wow what a positive attitude you have! Keep the faith and joy in your spirit. I look forward to visiting soon.; February 4, 2008 at 9:10 AM
Arts said...: Claudia - your Arts Council family is behind you! What a wonderful example artful spirit you are.
Maybe the Arts Council should have a call to artists to take care of you eye design...hmmmmm.
Love you!; February 4, 2008 at 10:08 AM
Anonymous said...: (I'm having trouble figuring out how to blog. I hope this isn't the 10th time I've "published")

Claudia,
Yesterday Vanessa told me all about this. Annie is right, you are amazing--and inspirational--and brave--and fun! What a combo!
I want to hear more about your eye design. I have a lot to learn about that, in addition to the "Blogging-101" course I should take.
You are a blessing to your children and to all of us who care about you.
Love, Mary; February 4, 2008 at 5:59 PM
Amy said...: Hey Claudia! I called you yesterday! So if you need anything call me! Like, if you're in GR and need to know where good eats are and where you'll get salmonella, or if you need a ride, or cookies, or dog sitting, etc, etc.
ALso, I wish you had told me you were going to Tar-go to get a tv stand! I have a paltry 10% discount. It's not much, but it's something. I'm sure I'll see you next week when Ann's in town but until then, much love and let me know if you need anything.
Down with Fredd!
-amos; February 5, 2008 at 5:47 PM

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The Journey

The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
determined to save
the only life you could save.

© Mary Oliver.

a poem from TRAVELING MERCIES by Annie Lamott

Listen
with the night falling we are saying thank you
we are stopping on the bridge to bow from the railings
we are running out of the glass rooms
with our mouths full of food to look at the sky
and say thank you
we are standing by the water looking out
in different directions

back from a series of hospitals back from a mugging
after funerals we are saying thank you
after the news of the dead
whether or not we knew them we are saying thank you
in a culture up to its chin in shame
living in the stench it has chosen we are saying thank you

over telephones we are saying thank you
in doorways and in the backs of cars and in elevators
remembering wars and the police at the back door
and the beatings on stairs we are saying thank you
in the banks that use us we are saying thank you
with the crooks in office with the rich and fashionable
unchanged we go on saying thank you thank you

with the animals dying around us
our lost feeling we are saying thank you
with the forests falling faster than the minutes
of our lives we are saying thank you
with the words going out like cells of a brain
with the cities growing over us like the earth
we are saying thank you faster and faster
with nobody listening we are saying thank you
we are saying thank you and waving
dark though it is

--w.s. merwin

from Kabir, Indian mystic poet

Friend, hope for the truth while you are alive.

Jump into experience while you are alive!...

What you call "salvation" belongs to the time before death.

If you don't break your ropes while you are alive,

do you think ghosts will do it after?

The idea that the soul will join with the ecstatic

just because the body is rotten--

that is all fantasy.

What is found now is found then.

If you find nothing now, you will simply end up with

an empty apartment in the City of Death.

If you make love with the divine now, in the next life you will have the face of satisfied desire.

Night Letter to theReader by Billy Collins

Night Letter to the Reader

I get up from the tangled bed and go outside,

a bird leaving the nest,

a snail taking a holiday from its shell,

but only to stand on the lawn,

an ordinary insomniac

amid the growth systems of garden and woods.

If I were younger, I might be thinking

about something I heard at a party,

about an unusual car,

or the press of Saturday night,

but as it is, I am simply conscious,

an animal in pajamas,

sensing only the pale humidity

of the night and the slight zephyrs

that stir the tops of the trees.

The dog has followed me out

and stands a little ahead,

her nose lifted as if she were inhaling

the tall white flowers,

visible tonight in the darkened garden,

and there was something else I wanted to tell you,

something about the warm orange light

in the windows of the house,

but now I am wondering if you were even listening

and why I bother to tell you these things

that will never make a difference,

flecks of ash, tiny chips of ice.

but this is what I want to do--

tell you that up in the woods

a few night birds were calling,

the grass was cold and wet on my bare feet,

and that at one point, the moon,

looking like the top of Shakespeare's

famous forehead,

appeared, quite unexpectedly,

illuminating a band of moving clouds.

This poem does what all good art does-it makes my heart fill as I recognize myself in it, and I say, "yes! that is exactly it!" and I realize once again that I need to tell you so many things. I feel inspired. Alive.

There are not enough hours.

a note from Kevin Griffin, author and spritual leader from Shambhala