Day comes to light as birds awaken the air inviting plants to respond to the coming of Spring.

Yesterday the neighbors below us celebrated their five year olds birthday with a pirate party.  In October, our grandson did the same.  I could hear parents discussing how we grew up to view pirates as evil, but today youngsters celebrate with  “Ho, Ho, Ho, I am a Pirate.”  Is it the character of Johnny Depp in the movie Pirates of the Caribbean that is so enchanting?

Anyway, there was lots of shrieking and running about and the sound of a pinata breaking.  

Music, like birds singing.

This morning I’m with the words of Lily Tomlin: The trouble with the rat race is that even if you win, you’re still a rat.

I read that we shouldn’t mention this president by name, but hold the whole party accountable, so instead of saying his name, each time say the Republican party, and we’ll see what the midterms bring.

And live the words of Thich Nhat Hanh:

“People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle. But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air, but to walk on earth. Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don’t even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child—our own two eyes. All is a miracle.”

I continue to be shocked by the MAGA campaign culminating last night at Madison Square Garden.  I savor clouds floating over the ridge, and soothe with words of the Dalai Lama.  

“Love and compassion are necessities, not luxuries. 

Without them, humanity cannot survive.”

I’ve been immersed in a four-day meditation retreat.  It’s such a positive, supportive experience that I’m finding it challenging to return to and handle the “news” and integrate openness, clarity, mindfulness, and emptiness with anger, war, and observing the effects of climate change.  As I struggle with this for myself, I wonder what I might post, say, or offer.

I watched the debate last night and, like Kamala, was nervous at first, though I loved her bold stride across the stage to hold out her hand to Trump in a beginning note of civility.  I delighted in watching Harris gain confidence and strength, and Trump implode.

The icing on the cake was Taylor Swift’s brilliant endorsement of Kamala.

Enough lies and false advertising.  Swift has more than 283 million followers on Instagram, and she instructed them in how to register to vote.

This morning, memory chimed with this meme: “If three wise women had visited Jesus, they’d have brought more useful gifts like diapers, formula, and some casseroles for the family.” 

Kamala stuck with practicalities, kept it real, and spoke of unity, not division and horror.  I’m glad we’ll see a woman president in the White House.  It’s time.  

There are so many poems that give me pause.  I feel the beat of my heart, the flow of my blood, embraced, entranced, enhanced.  This morning  it’s this poem  by William Stafford.

Living on the Plains

That winter when this thought came — how the river
held still every midnight and flowed
backward a minute — we studied algebra
late in our room fixed up in the barn,
and I would feel the curved relation,
the rafters upside down, and the cows in their life
holding the earth round and ready
to meet itself again when morning came.

At breakfast while my mother stirred the cereal
she said, “You’re studying too hard,”
and I would include her face and hands in my glance
and then look past my father’s gaze as
he told again our great race through the stars
and how the world can’t keep up with our dreams.

~ William Stafford ~

(The Way It Is)

I offer haiku from A White Tea Bowl, 100 Haiku from 100 Years of Life.  The haiku are by Mitsu Suzuki, the widow of Shunryu Suzuki Roshi, founder of the San Francisco Zen Center.

Her laughter

comes ahead to greet me –

spring in motion 

Leaves of speech – 

unable to put words in order

I stamp through fallen leaves

Jizo Bodhisattva

protector against dementia – 

fringed iris