I rise, embraced. Where I live, the temperature never rose above 70 degrees the whole month of July so it’s been a cool summer now unfolding into fall.
These words by Saint Francis de Sales guide me today:
You learn to speak by speaking, to study by studying, to run by running, to work by working; in just the same way, you learn to love by loving.
I’ve been with the swaying of the kelp forest at Monterey Bay Aquarium and the fish moving through. The sea gulls are raucous this time of year as their youngsters grow into their own ways to move through, and on, water, land, and sky. All of this flows through and reverberates in me.
This morning I read about a man who sits on a bench each morning to watch the sunrise and talk to those who walk by. He listens and has become a therapist for those who come to be with him. I read about a 99 year old woman who because of the pandemic becomes best friends with the two year old next door.
There are ribbons of connection flowing through us like ribbons of kelp.
Fred Rogers said: If only you could sense how important you are to the lives of those you meet, how important you can be to people you may never even dream of. There is something of yourself that you leave at every meeting with another person.
When we were in Monterey recently, I was enchanted with the aquarium. I’d never seen anchovies circling in the Kelp Forest before. Now, I read that they’re not always there. These will be eaten by bigger fish within two weeks.
That morning, I’d been enchanted with this sculpture. After seeing the anchovies, I knew what it represented.
Living here, we celebrate the summer dance of fog as it prances, flows, and blows in and out.
Early this morning, sitting outside, Steve heard the fog horn, and then, nearby, an answering owl, and in response, a little further away, another owl, and then, a third.
Heads bowed today!
I’m watching the Capitol police officers testify on the January 6 insurrection. It’s shocking. It’s shocking and a must-see for every person in this country.
The men speaking are shaking. I’m shaking. That anyone, especially those who were protected by these men, could deny this investigation is again, shocking.
It was an insurrection, and without the courage of these men, we would be a different country. May those who organized and encouraged this be punished. Those who protected us will always be haunted. We should all be haunted by how close we came to losing our democracy.
We were in Monterey this weekend with the rhythm of the tides. Here are anemones at low tide Saturday morning.
The July full moon is called the Buck Moon because antlers of male deer are in full growth mode. I woke in the night and the room was bright with moonlight. Look up tonight and savor reflecting within as growth comes.
I’ve been home for four days with a cold, cough, and sore throat. The gift is I’m not only aware of each breath but grateful for it. Perhaps sickness comes once in a while so we better appreciate our health. It’s an opportunity to simply be since I can’t seem to focus on much else.
Two quotes guide me today.
Leo Tolstoy:
Everyone thinks of changing the world. But no one thinks of changing themselves.
Victor Hugo:
If you look in the eyes of the young, you see flame. If you look in the eyes of the old, you see light.
Of course age is relative and so it is for us all to see and be flame to Light.
I periodically reread and refresh on And There Was Light by Jacques Lusseyran. He writes:
Because of my blindness I had developed a new faculty. The faculty is attention. In order to live without eyes, it is necessary to be very attentive, to remain hour after hour in a state of wakefulness, of receptiveness and activity. Indeed, attention is not simply a virtue of intelligence or the result of education, it is a state of being. In its truest sense it is the listening post of the universe.
Emily Dickinson may have been living the same way when she wrote:
Forever – is composed of nows.
Steve and I spent two nights in Liege, Belgium four years ago. It was pure delight as we ate our meals outside in outdoor cafes.
When Steve wanted to find a laundry on a Saturday, he asked a policeman who then led us to the police station where he gathered a crew of police women and men interested in helping us fulfill this task. We all walked around together until we learned it wasn’t meant to be but meanwhile we’d made new friends.
When I look at the photos of the flooding in Liege, I’m shocked. Each moment of our lives, a moment preserved.
