Last night I was outside enjoying the stars, the planet Jupiter, and the evening sky. Then one shooting star and then another shot brightly and seemingly slowly by. It was my father’s birthday. Born in 1921, he would have been 101. He passed away in 1969 when he was 47 and is still missed.
From Snow Leopard, Lama Govinda, The Way of the White Clouds:
Just as a white summer cloud, in harmony with heaven and earth freely floats in the blue sky from horizon to horizon following the breath of the atmosphere – in the same way the pilgrim abandons himself to the breath of the greater life that … leads him beyond the farthest horizons to an aim which is already present within him though yet hidden from his sight.
As I’ve shared, in preparing my eyes for cataract surgery, I’ve moved from 60 years of wearing contact lenses to wearing glasses so my eyes can return to their natural, and not a controlled state.
I’m realizing the gift of this as I sometimes view myself, as perhaps many of us do, as “fixed”, forgetting the movement and change we always are. The earth is not standing still, and neither are we.
In this change, I have more awareness of my eyes and my way of seeing. I understand the visual cortex is in the back of my head, by the occiput. Those with myopia as I have may focus more upward there, elongate, and so now I allow changes in my eyes, in my way of seeing, feeling, and being.
We also balance in that area, so as I change my ability to see and perceive, my interaction with depth perception, I, at times, feel disoriented, unbalanced, even discombobulated. Who am I with all these changes?
This is an exploration, and as I say a gift. I feel a return to when I went through chemotherapy, not as exhausting, painful, or demanding, but certainly it is awareness, observation, feeling the space within open and close, the bones in my head open and close, the connections all through me of oneness in this world we share.
I trust in the experience of each unfolding moment.
Lin Jensen, “Molting”:
Awakening arises in times of vulnerability and awkwardness between, before, and after where prior identities are canceled and anything is possible and nothing certain.
In Zen, mountains are mountains at first but then everything must fall apart before mountains can be mountains again.
David Whyte wrote the poem “Working Together” for Boeing to mark the introduction of the 777 jetliner.
When I read it today I am struck by his words: “The visible and invisible working together in a common cause to produce the miraculous”. I think of the discovery of flight, of lift, of air flowing over a wing.
I also recognize it is a sacred time for Jewish people, a new year, a new moon.
When I was in the Everest region of Nepal, all religions were celebrated, all holidays.
May we each allow some quiet today as we ingest the wings we share, the coming together and working together that allows us to land and fly in new ways of connection, being, and doing.
I’m working with my eyes, resting them and expanding focus and peripheral vision.
In that, I feel the center of my being vibrate like a spindle twisting threads of my life into the unique being I am, one of many, many of one. I round a carpet, a curving of time-space. The world may once have been thought to be flat but anyone watching a ship sail off to sea would see the drop, the rounding, the curve.
I follow the curve, a ship following the horizon, the curving meet of earth and sky like the ball of my eye, the perception of being.
My grandson and I share a love of the book Little Bear by Else Holmelund Minarik and Maurice Sendak. My sons and I loved and love that book too but grandson has taken it a step further.
In the book, Little Bear puts on a hat of his own creation and goes to the moon. Since Grandson’s visit to the U.S.S. Hornet, he has decided he is an astronaut. His tent has become a rocket ship with a control panel created with the help of his parents.
Inspired by his vision and trust in what’s possible, I’ve decided to add a little more spark to my view of the world we share.
It’s fall. Leaves are turning and here where I am, we celebrate with rain.
The landscape wraps a moist tongue touch.
I’m watching Bell Hooks speak about her book All About Love. I honor her wisdom and clarity as she shares how to change the conversation personally and politically on the power, necessity, and value of gratitude, forgiveness, compassion, and Love.
Love is a combination of six values: Care, Commitment, Knowledge, Responsibility, Respect, and Trust.
Because I’m in the process of transitioning from the hard contact lenses I’ve worn for sixty years, my focus is on vision, and the beauty, intricacy, and intimacy of the eyes.
There’s no longer protective glass between my eyes and the world. My eyes are moist, naked, exposed.
In doing exercises to improve my vision, my vision is changing as is my awareness. It’s quite a practice to go from a coating over the eyes to fresh air moving in and out, and a constant changing of glasses to adjust vision for near, far, and intermediate, so I can read the computer screen.
I’m aware of choice in what I see and of nourishing my eyes with rest and soft seeing. My teacher of Sensory Awareness Charlotte Selver once told a woman she used her eyes like forks. I’m aware of receiving even as I reach for clarity and definition, whilealso beckoning open focus.
In balancing, I nurture connecting eyes to heart, hands, and feet, portals with which to give and receive.