Priorities

I have spent the last several days trying to keep up with work projects. I don't mind this but it cut into other important things. Yesterday, for example, I had to go straight home to get cracking on a presentation and it was maybe one of the most beautiful evenings I have ever seen. I'm going to try to do a much better job of working smarter rather than just harder.

Also today two people I know are in for surgery for potentially scary problems. I have been sending up little prayers for them all day. I hope all goes well.

Damage control

I had a blowup with a friend of mine this week and it has been weighing on me all week. Over the last couple of days it seems that all might not be lost with that friendship. That's a huge relief. It has been on my mind all week. It sounds sappy, I know, but I believe that family and friends are all that gets us through life. I don't want to lose anyone.

This week's poem

Here's another entry to keep up with my National Poetry Month campaign. This week I amd posting the lyrics to a favorite song of mine. It comes from the Trio II album by Dolly Parton, Linda Ronstadt, and Emmylou Harris. Some day I would like to meet Emmylou Harris. I know nothing about her except her music. She seems to include a song on each album that stays with me.

I don't know how much or how little these lines will strike someone who is reading them for the first time since I first heard them as a song. I like to think that anyone who has heard them set to music would understand why I chose this.

When We're Gone, Long Gone

Trouble, we have known trouble
In our struggle just to get by.
Many times the burden's been heavy
Still we carried on side by side.

And when we're walking together in glory
Hand in hand through eternity,
It's the love that will be remembered
Not wealth, not poverty.

And when we're gone, long gone
The only thing that will have mattered
Is the love that we shared
And the way that we cared
When we're gone, long gone

Sore today

I fell asleep on the couch yesterday evening and woke up there at 4:30 in the morning. I had been sleeping on the right side - the same side where I had had the surgery. That turned out to be a big mistake. I was very sore all day long. That took me by surprise. They told me that the full recovery would take a while but I hadn't had any trouble in a long time. A minor development, really.

Paying the price

Well, yesterday I had a truly terrible day at work. In the evening I ended up by blowing up at a friend of mine. I apologized as best I could and hoped I might have been able to set things right. But this evening it seems that I have done some serious and potentially permanent damage to that friendship. This is being really hard.

A low point

Yesterday was a day full of challenges and I failed all of them. Strange because the day seemed to start so well. I let my guard down, it seems. Today I have to try harder. We'll see how that goes.

On an unrelated note, this morning on my walk I saw a beaver ambling about on a little island in the river. He was pretty chunky. Evidently the winter had been good to him. I didn't realize that they got that big.

Off to get ready for the day. I hope to do a better job of this one.

A poem for a spectacular day

This is such a beautiful day, warm and clear. I have posted an assortment of sad poems here so today I thought I'd include one that's a little more upbeat. Here's, "Loveliest of Trees" by A.E. Houseman. It's one of those poems that turns up in all the collections of favorite, best-loved poems. Some might consider it a little sappy but It's ideal for today.

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.

Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.

And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the woodlands I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow.

Here's a picture of the cherry trees outside the parking garage where I work. I took it a few days ago. They have faded already but were striking at the time.

A minor (very minor) landmark

Today I mowed the lawn for the first time this season. I was a little curious about how that was going to go since I hadn't had to pull the start cord on the mower since late last summer - long before I had the surgery. It was a non-event. The mower started up more easily this year than it has for a long time. I didn't seem to have any ill effect from the incision on my back. That surprised me - and in a positive way. I did get a bit more winded than I had in the past. My lawn is very small so it really shouldn't present any problem. I suspect that the breathlessness wasn't an indication of illness but a symptom of me sitting around all winter and eating.

Mowing the lawn seems like not much of a chore now. In the late evening light under the spruce trees, it was really very beautiful. The cherry tree was dropping petals on the back yard, the muscari and the daffodils were in bloom and the few puny hyacinths I have were heavy with perfume. I was grateful for the experience. I'll probably be singing a different tune in August, of course, but today was delightful.

A sad but hopeful poem for a grey day

This morning was grey and foggy. At the same time, many trees have begun to bloom - mostly white and pink. They make a beautiful impression against the light purple sky. This day had "stay in bed" written all over it. If I were home I would probably already be taking a nap with the windows open, feeling the breeze and waiting for the rain that is expected later in the day.

This morning I remembered a poem that I hadn't thought about in quite some time. It is a somber but hopeful one, perfect for this sort of day. It's another one by Christina Rossetti and has brought me great comfort in the past. I'm including it as part of my poem-a-week plan for National Poetry Month.

REST

O Earth, lie heavily upon her eyes;
    Seal her sweet eyes weary of watching, Earth;
    Lie close around her; leave no room for mirth
With its harsh laughter, nor for sound of sighs.
She hath no questions, she hath no replies,
    Hushed in and curtained with a blessed dearth
    Of all that irked her from the hour of birth;
With stillness that is almost Paradise.
Darkness more clear than noonday holdeth her,
    Silence more musical than any song;
Even her very heart has ceased to stir:
Until the morning of Eternity
Her rest shall not begin nor end, but be;
    And when she wakes she will not think it long.

Looking back with gratitude and wonder

Early this morning I took a walk down to the river. I thought a lot about what was on my mind during those early morning walks at the end of last year before I went into the hospital. I realized that in these few months I had allowed myself to lose touch with the thoughts and feelings from that time that had brought me such comfort. I tried today to hold those things foremost in my mind. It helped a lot.

Coincidentally, today I recieved good news from two of my friends. In recent months the only good news I had recieved about myself or anyone else was just the lack of bad news. It was great to hear some plain ol' happy news.

Tonight I read through all the posts I've made to this blog since I started it last year. It brought back to me all the gratitude, wonder, and love that were so evident and immediate to me then. When all this began, I determined not to let that awareness slip away from me. It's easy to let that happen. I'm glad that I have these notes. It all came back.

Five months

Five months ago at thsi moment I was on the operating table. I know I should just get over this but it amazes me that it has only been that long. It doesn't seem possible that I should be able to feel this well after such a short time. It still hurts every now and then but in a different way. Now it's usually the muscles-stretching-out sort of ache and not the post-surgery-something-might-tear feeling. As all of the post-surgery stuff begins to fade, I am hoping to hold onto all the things I've learned in the last year. That'll take more active work on my part when I have fewer of those physical reminders.

And with joy the stars perform their shining

I realized this morning that it is National Poetry Month. I've posted a lot of poems here already. Usually they have had to do with what was going on at the moment. For April, I'm going to try to post one each week that may or may not tie in.

This week's selection is "Self-Dependence" by Matthew Arnold. It's a wonderful poem. I can't remember where I first saw it. The title of this post comes from it. Read on.

Self-Dependence

Weary of myself, and sick of asking
What I am, and what I ought to be,
At this vessel's prow I stand, which bears me
Forwards, forwards, o'er the starlit sea.

And a look of passionate desire
O'er the sea and to the stars I send:
"Ye who from my childhood up have calm'd me,
Calm me, ah, compose me to the end!

"Ah, once more," I cried, "ye stars, ye waters,
On my heart your mighty charm renew;
Still, still let me, as I gaze upon you,
Feel my soul becoming vast like you!"

From the intense, clear, star-sown vault of heaven,
Over the lit sea's unquiet way,
In the rustling night-air came the answer
"Wouldst thou be as these are? Live as they.

"Unaffrighted by the silence round them,
Undistracted by the sights they see,
These demand not that the things without them
Yield them love, amusement, sympathy.

"And with joy the stars perform their shining,
And the sea its long moon-silver'd roll;
For self-poised they live, nor pine with noting
All the fever of some differing soul.

"Bounded by themselves, and unregardful
In what state God's other works may be,
In their own tasks all their powers pouring,
These attain the mighty life you see."

O air-born voice! long since, severely clear,
A cry like thine in mine own heart I hear:
"Resolve to be thyself; and know that he,
Who finds himself, loses his misery!"


I verified this text through Project Gutenberg. If you have never used it, you should give it a try. It is a magnificent source of free e-text versions of public domain works.