Tuesday, April 28, 2020

Ramadan 2020

Since reading Linda Sarsour's book, I have been trying to expand my awareness of Islam and signed up to receive emails from MPAC (Muslim Public Affairs Council).  Today the above video was in my inbox.

MPAC came to my attention this past March when I was searching for the name of the New York firefighter who was interviewed for a 2002 PBS special titled "Mohammed:  Legacy of a Prophet."  Kevin James' words left a lasting positive impression on me.

Sunday, April 19, 2020

Always walking home / Not alone

Your feet will bring you to where your heart is.

An áit a bhfuil do chroí is ann a thabharfas do chosa thú. 

(Irish proverb)

The quote came to my attention on April 2, the first day I had the energy to take a walk since the COVID-19 situation brought so much uncertainty to so many.  I've been waiting for the right time to share it.  A few days ago I noticed that my Abutilon had taken the shape of a heart.  Tomorrow is the day R died in 2008.  Last night I dreamed again that I was walking home after having been far from home.  I saw many people that I didn't know but felt I could trust.  There was a young man riding a horse in the same direction I was going.  When I spoke to the young man, the horse disappeared.  The young man told me he was feeling vulnerable and could not say much but that he was a good listener.  I didn't have much to say either, for the same reason.  At the end of the dream, I saw one person I recognized but wasn't sure I could trust her.  I took the risk of telling her about my vulnerability.  After she listened to me for a few moments, I woke up from the dream wondering if I had made a mistake in admitting my vulnerability to her in a way that undermined the strength I do have.

Our hearts are heavy with so many voices silenced by death.  The human heart can only stand so much alone.  We are not alone anymore.

We are people walking home together.

(The above image, "Family Traveling At Night," was drawn by me in 2005, using my index finger as a "pencil" on my iBookG4 track pad and the Appleworks6 "Painting" function)

Monday, April 13, 2020

Come walk with me / Walkin' down the line

After having no energy for walking for most of this social distancing time, the beautiful weather in the last few days encouraged me to begin my spring and early summer pattern of walking up to the top of the hill where I live and home again.  On the first day I went without face covering but realized that without face covering, I couldn't risk foot trails or the narrow under-the-road tunnel.  Bellingham is a walking and biking town with access to a network of trails in every neighborhood.  Throughout my walk I saw people of all ages, about half of them wearing face coverings, everyone maintaining social distance, many on bikes, many with dogs.  There was an abundance of smiling and waving and hellos.

Walking up the street through my neighborhood I saw this.

Here's a view of downtown Bellingham from part way up the hill.  What look like mountains to the west are islands in the Salish Sea.

At the highest point on the hill I can see the Canadian Cascades.

Walking out of Northridge Park into the hillside neighborhood for a block or so, there is an unobstructed view of the Canadian Cascades.

Walking back down the hill.

Crossing the street because I am not wearing face covering and the under-the-road tunnel is narrow.

The under-the-road tunnel.

Down the hill.

I stop, assuming that Big Rock Garden is closed, but it isn't.

The photo above shows a solitary redwood tree that is dear to me.

From this vantage point on our hill, we can see the next hill to the south which is where Western Washington University is located.  When I walked home down this street on Sunday, the air was so clear that the mountain range on the Olympic Peninsula could be seen in exquisite detail, but I didn't take my camera for that walk.

Almost home.

My door is to the left.

Later.  Oboe sleeping in the sunshine on my porch.

Mandala #47 finished.  

Ready to begin Mandala #48.

Today just before 6 p.m. in 2008 was the last time I saw R before he died.  In those last few days before R died, I felt that June Carter Cash and Johnny Cash were close by in spirit, understanding fully what I was experiencing and giving me courage. 

Sending love near and far.

Tuesday, April 7, 2020

Boundless Love

Not sure what year it was.  1974?  I was doing the dishes in the kitchen while the man I was living with was in the living room watching TV.  From a room away I heard the sound of a man singing in a way that to me was irresistible.  I stopping washing the dishes and walked to the next room to see who was singing on the TV.  It was John Prine.

Thank you so much, John Prine, for your boundless generosity all these years.

A true Boundless Love story: