I love the fog but today, after my dentist’s appointment, I needed summer warmth and smells so I drove to the top of Mt. Tam.
Above the Fog
Each Moment
Where I live we often hear sirens heading out highway 1, especially on the weekends. There’s always a feeling of sadness for whoever is affected and what has happened. One never expects it to be someone you know, but this time it was. A good friend fell asleep driving back from Commonweal. Her car went off the side of the embankment on Panoramic highway and her car with her in it fell and turned over for 200 feet. It was quite a rescue effort, involving our local agencies. She’s in the hospital and she’s alive. She will heal.
I sit with it. My father died in an accident. It brings up fragility, something I’ve lived with since I was 19. Like that, a person you love can be gone. Take care – give care to yourself and those you love.
Sausalito
We were married June 19, 1971 so 55 years ago. We celebrated by spending the night in Sausalito where I took a slew of photos, and this morning had great fun interacting with a Great Blue Heron. Being in Sausalito in the mist skews distances, so, at times, I felt as though I could have been here with the Coast Miwok sailing across the bay in a tule boat.
Misted
I walked Tennessee Valley early this morning in an environment wet with mist. I walked with these words from Neil deGrasse Tyson.
We are part of this universe; we are in this universe, but perhaps more important than both of those facts is that the universe is in us.
Immersed, I was surrounded with birds singing, flying, scurrying, feasting. I noticed the changing smells and the array of greens. I thought of algae changing the color of the reflecting pool in Washington D.C. to green. Plants rule, and yes, “the universe is in us”, and it’s for us to notice and live aware.
Skewed
A photo of a mountain lion capturing a deer was temporarily removed from our local Nextdoor when someone complained about it being disgusting to show such violence. Now, it’s back and I think of the spectacle Trump allowed on the White House lawn so he could graft even more money and revolt most of us. I wonder how someone can see the cycle of life and find that in need of censorship, and not question what was allowed on the White House lawn on Sunday night.
Peace
To counteract the news of Trump and the horrors, lies and financial cost of him and his administration, I come to Anne Frank who died at the age of 15 after being sent to Auschwitz and then Bergen-Belsen.
Anne Frank: “It’s really a wonder that I haven’t dropped all my ideals, because they seem so absurd and impossible to carry out. Yet I keep them, because in spite of everything I still believe that people are really good at heart. I simply can’t build up my hopes on a foundation consisting of confusion, misery, and death. I see the world gradually turning into a wilderness, I hear the ever-approaching thunder, which will destroy us, too. I can feel the sufferings of millions, and yet, if I look up into the heavens, I think it will all come right, that this cruelty too will end, and that peace and tranquility will return again.”
Exchange
Last night I was drawn to re-read Cormac McCarthy’s The Road. Perhaps it was a response to our White House being taken over by thugs.
Today on NextDoor I read that a mountain lion was caught on camera bringing down an adult deer by Eastwood Park, the park I walk to regularly. It was 7 PM so it was still light though the fog was embracing the ridge and valley in mist and gray.
The comments on the photo were on the grace of living here, of observing and living so clearly with transformation in nature and energy exchange.
The Grannies Sing
Go to YouTube and watch The House of the Epstein Crimes. That may lead you to the grannies singing Things That Go Trump in the Night. The tide is turning. Celebrate!
Change: Enchantment
Yesterday it was hot and clear here, but then, I felt the wind shift from east to west, and knew the fog was moving in on its journey to cool and embrace. The branches of the trees played in the breeze, and in an hour or so, I saw wisps on the ridge. In the next hour, all was completely gray, and in the night our motion detector kept lighting up with the sway of the trees. This morning when I rose, I was surprised to see fog only on the ridge, and then, 20 minutes later, it was gone. Impermanence.
I sway now gently, back and forth, forward and back, circling like bamboo, the symbol of enlightenment in Japanese gardens, or like kelp in the sea. Swaying, feeling, moved by breath. Memories filter through like the dance of fog, like mist, sprinkled with fairy dust.
And now I look again at 7:54. And so it goes, in and out, like breath.
Open to Receive
A friend is retiring from her career as a therapist. As she comes to final meetings with long-term clients, she asks how to receive their gratitude and accolades. I sit with that as I look out on a beautiful blue-sky day. All is receiving. Being is receiving, Radiating is receiving. We live in relationship.
The flower opens to receive the bee.
Cathy's Blog! 