Monthly Archives: January 2015

A Blyss Poem, poetry again at Blyss

It’s cold outside …. the snow is deep but my heart is warm and at peace.

And though many months may stand between me and the summer’s

Blessed shore my faith sustains me to its distant destination.

 

My errors behind my humanity haunt me. Yet

‘Though they may pave the ever new miles with contrary directional signs

No one knows exactly where I go. So I step aside and fool them by and by.

 

Where love is given in full measure solitary though I may be today and

Solitary though I may be forever, Silent, cold, effervescent, quivering with life

An empty hand is always visible, open for what will be my tomorrow.

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I have learned sadly that life is not all about me.  My concerns pale next to those of others whom I know even casually.  It is wrong for me to care so much about myself.  This is a lesson I am coming to learn late in life.   I can only try to think less about myself, to reach out more, to give more, to be more to others, even if they do not ask.    I see the flaws of others around me but instead of being repulsed I wonder why, or how they came to be that way and I feel only compassion.   I know they  must suffer, and perhaps a great deal more than me.

On the other side again, or How I should live at Blyss going forward

I have had many  dimensions of interruption in my life over the last five months since my last borzoi, Paris, died.  It first concerned my mother in the final months of her life.  This was followed by my own reaction in the form of a small breakdown that required time spent in an IOP (Intensive Out Patient) hospital based program for two months from which I was just released last week.  I should be very pleased with how well I came out of this emotional swan dive and lived to tell the tale. If I can come through all of this, I am optimistic for all of my readers to weather whatever form the storms and tempests of life hurls at them.   Be brave and brace yourself for anything for it will happen.

I am still waiting for my new borzoi, Jelly, to come to Blyss.  All of my friends in the breed I talk to about getting her have nice things to say about her.  Two friends, breeders, know her well enough to have handled her for her breeder in recent shows.   I even know someone who had a stud dog that bred her but it did not take.  She was bred twice but neither time produced a litter.  She is ready to be a pet and the consensus is that she is perfect for me.  And so I wait.

It is perhaps more difficult to believe that I have either rightly or wrongly decided to forgive my boyfriend LT and he and I are a couple again although with many changes to our original relationship.  He lives elsewhere so I can maintain my equilibrium living on my own, something which I still need to master.  It is my destiny which I must accept, that’s all, without being self-destructive.  I can do it, I only think I cannot.  Jelly will be my pal when LT is gone.  However, now I know he will return because he could not stay apart from me any more than I could live alone.   So much for him being a good “loner”.  I don’t think so.

People, both friends and family alike, have criticized me of late, and I reconsidering those relationships seriously.  Going forward, I intend to push back and reproach anyone who dares to again.  I am the decider of my life, and that is the ultimate fact.  Recently, it seems even more “friends” are going to be eliminated for providing me with their unasked-for opinions about my relationship with my mother, my boyfriend, or whether or not I should get another dog.   People can’t help themselves by eliciting forth their uncensored thoughts essentially slashing me to shreds.  My new response will be to say good-bye and walk away.  Here is a quotation I came across recently by the author, Paul Auster.  “After all, if you cannot share your secrets with your friends, what kind of friend are you.”

Blyss Challenges: Passing Time, Theology, Becoming Healthier

During the past three days, I found myself among the members and friends of my primary clubs, two being borzoi breed clubs, and one a hound club .  It was all rather wonderful, even if I did have to drive a long way to attend them.

There was one breeder at these venues, N23, who bred the bitch I am hoping to bring home to Blyss soon whose name is Jelly.  I am so pleased and excited about this development.  My contractor is getting closer to completion of the dog-door – mud room project and that will make things move along nicely for my ability to get her.  This being a very long drive, he  has even said he will take  me there free of charge.  I have returned the favor in kind by being how shall I say,  charming.  I have made several home-made dinners  and I know him well enough to know it makes him happy.  Meanwhile, at the eating disorder program, my team has decided to let me come in only three half days, down from five full days.  I am grateful and thrilled, even thought it has meant eating more than I would like and putting on some pounds.

Comments were made by several of the ladies at the parties that I appeared to have gained weight.  However, they also commented that I looked better than I had on previous times they saw me and wished me well.  I thanked them for their gracious  comments of kindness.  I thought about this driving home and felt less happy about it.  Fortunately, my clothes still fit me, although they are tighter than I would like.  For now, I will accept the weight and try to be happy at meal time.  I am especially trying to eat the food on my plate instead of throwing it away in the garbage.   I try to remind myself that food is medicine.

At church this morning, the Minister reminded our Unitarian-Universalist congregation that all humans are inherently good and their inherent goodness influences the perfectibility of others and the world.  It is a theology of “win-win” that I wish more people would embrace.  It is a theology that embraces all humans, believing none are intrinsically bad, welcomes all of human kind, is loving and supportive to all in need of sustenance of any kind.   It is a fascinating concept to incorporate into both a personal road map as well as a theology given the approach of most Judeo-Christian theologies that are based on being forgiven for sins.  I believe it is a theology that is appropriate for me.  For today, for the first time, I am trying to live on the light side of what has been a very dark and bleak life-long depression for me that just now allows me to emerge into the light.  It is a good thing for me to know that my Unitarian-Universalism faith supports my wellness.

Against this backdrop, I talked to many people at the club parties.  It seemed that many people knew about my struggles with food and a recent termination with a significant other.   Both topics had to be discussed to some point with them and it was difficult to do so.  Things between my boyfriend and me became very complicated when my mother wanted to reconcile with my sister, N25, and me in August.  He made demands of me that I could not accept and so it ended.     Then, for some reason, I stopped eating in a normal way.  It was not purposeful or intentional, I just handled the stress in that way.  However, I cannot think badly of my boyfriend who did so much for me during the year we were together, especially when I was so sick.  And so I choose to see his goodness of which there is much in abundance.  He is difficult to be with and to understand.  I know I gave the best of me that I could and my conscience is clear.  I intend to remain his good friend to him and be true to my theology.

 

The fluttering to earth at Blyss of a gift as light as a downy feather

At home alone one evening this week, I witnessed a visual phenomena that was almost inexplicable and frightening.  However, I able to perceive exactly what it was and I laughed.  Laughter was not the appropriate response because I later learned what appeared to be a solitary micro-feather floating down from an air-conditioning vent in the ceiling was later captured by a worker in my house when he came upon it resting in a shadowy place, it was a brown recluse spider.  He had made his nearly invisible descent on a smaller than hair size strand of silk and took off as soon as he touched the floor.  I knew it was a spider but not being afraid of them thought nothing of it at the time.  When it was caught in a plastic baggie, I could see him more clearly and identified him as the creature I had seen, nearly invisible once his body blended into the floor, and wondered at how easily he could kill a human if he wanted to.  Life can be that fragile.

The approaching of death certainly takes many forms, most of them unrecognizable.  Perhaps for some it is a cigarette, others an alcoholic drink, for another, too much food, and for yet another, not enough food.  Then there are writers with their unique brand of symptoms: brilliant clarity of thought that may be incorrect, racing thoughts, hearing voices that are not present,  insomnia, and drug abuse, although these symptoms are not limited to writers.  More refined symptoms include the irresistible seduction of anorexia in its creative expressions.  They all seem so true and real but I have been told by doctors that they are not.  Writers never seem to be on the right side of the answers to the True or False Questions of life and often times fail the tests life administers to them.  I think it is ironic I get better at failing the older I become.

I rail against the demise of my Blyss borzois, all of them are gone now.  LTR walked me through it when he was here but then he misstepped and was gone.  People in my life were happy about these events of last summer.  This indicates how well my family knows me or cares, or understands.  It borders on the criminal in their degree of torture to me when they speak.  I give them the benefit of the doubt that they really just don’t understand me at all and still try to go on loving them.

At this dawn of 2015 I cannot hope for an encore life, but a continuation of what went before with some adjustments to the side of corrections made.  I will not have another five or six borzoi, just one.  My anorexia will be replaced by a healthy diet and a more realistic body image even if I hate myself that way.  I cannot believe my own inner voice when it speaks to me about myself.  I am somehow wrong about me, the most important thing.

Once my new borzoi bitch, Jelly, comes it will not matter because she will matter more.   Moreover, some kind of peace has fallen upon LTR and me for which I am grateful.  I do not have a name or label for it, so I will simply acknowledge it by saying that he is back.  After all, he captured the brown recluse spider before it could bite me.