Whatever happens, stay alive. By Virginia Wolf

 Whatever happens, stay alive.

Don't die before you're dead.
Don't lose yourself, don't lose hope, don't lose direction. Stay alive, with yourself, with every
cell of your body, with every fiber of your skin. Stay alive, learn, study, think, read, build, invent, create, speak, write, dream, design.
Stay alive, stay alive inside you, stay alive also outside, fill yourself with colors of the world, fill yourself with peace, fill yourself with hope.
Stay alive with joy.
There is only one thing you should not waste in life, and that's life itself...
Whatever happens, stay alive.
Don't die before you're dead.
Don't lose yourself, don't lose hope, don't lose direction. Stay alive, with yourself, with every
cell of your body, with every fiber of your skin. Stay alive, learn, study, think, read, build, invent, create, speak, write, dream, design.
Stay alive, stay alive inside you, stay alive also outside, fill yourself with colors of the world, fill yourself with peace, fill yourself with hope.
Stay alive with joy.
There is only one thing you should not waste in life, and that's life itself...
- Virginia Woolf

---

I was laid off on 12/5. I almost saw it coming, but not quite. I cried during the meeting.

I've been trying to stay positive but it's hard to stay motivated. Today David called me out on not getting out of bed till 9. Who f***ing cares what time I get up, no one's waiting on me to tell them how to ship stuff.

I've been waiting for health insurance coverage from David's employer for 1 month. This has been a pretty poor execution of enrollment to their benefits. I don't know whether to blame his HR department or the health insurance company. Either way, I want to write a letter of complaint to someone. Don't worry, I won't. The last time I stopped taking my medicine, I ended up in the hospital for a week. Two years later, I'm still paying off that bill.

Did I ever tell you, I have this thing called Box of Worries? When I get really stressed, I just make a list. Then I try to move on, take some action. I'm on hold with the health insurance company right now, they can't find me in their system. So I was looking through my notes and found a Box of Worries from a few weeks ago.

Finding a job
Getting the kids to school
Christmas
***'s declining health
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
Health insurance

Today I still don't have pharmacy information.

My kids are missing school left and right.

And we're hosting a birthday party for 100 people in 2 days.

Of the Animal Soul, By Annette C. Boehm, Translated By Annette C. Boehm

In days of old, animals believed

humans to likewise have a soul

Children mostly still think this way today.

Their limbs are small and weak.

The heart however holds

-----

I wonder. When did my kids go from children to jaded "think like adults" and did I even notice?

Did the first kid stay innocent for longer, since he didn't have adults telling him things weren't as shiny and pretty, because we wanted to protect his innocence? And did the last kid become jaded too young, thanks to the older kids who wanted to prove what they know to be the truth about the world?

[ ] noise by Victoria Adukwei Bulley

& even when we said we were alone there was [       ] noise on the radio & there was [       ] noise in the car & there was [       ] noise all over the internet & there was [       ]  noise in the atmosphere & there was [       ] noise trapped in the system & there was [       ] noise in the economy & [       ] noise was the economy & there was [       ] noise on the train & there was [       ] noise on the road & there was [       ] noise at the board meeting & there was [       ] noise on the field & there was [       ] noise on the kitchen counter & [       ] noise in the cutlery drawer & there was [       ] noise at the hospital where there was [       ] noise in the blood & there was [       ] noise in the water supply & there was [       ] noise in the ocean & there was [       ] noise eating the ice caps & the polar bears were drowning because of it & washed up on the beaches then was a morbid & off-white [       ] noise & there was [       ] noise in the street & there was [       ] noise in the ozone a whole hole's worth of [       ] noise just counting down the days & there was [       ] noise in the photos of us because [       ] noise was on the lens & there was [       ] noise on the brain scan & there was [       ] noise during the exam where there was [       ] noise scratched into the desk & there was [       ] noise in the texts & there was [       ] noise in the census & there was [       ] noise in the law & there was [       ] noise on Friday at the cinema & there was [       ] noise at the seminar & there was [       ] noise at the peace talks & there was [       ] noise in the rent & there was [       ] noise on the wellness podcast & there was [       ] noise in the obituary & there were little [       ] noise cookies remaining even after carefully choosing reject all & there was [       ] noise in the inquest & there was [       ] noise in the commission & there was [       ] noise in the system you hear because [       ] noise was the system & too [       ] noise was reform & there was [       ] noise in the wounding & there was [       ] noise in the wording of the apology the [       ] noisiness of which made entirely void the apology & there was [       ] noise in the diversity statement & there was [       ] noise in the group chat & there was [       ] noise in the joke of it all, there was [       ] noise in the delivery & there was [       ] noise in the returns process & in the practice & in the prayer & it was there in the room with us still even when we said we were alone even when we swore that we could not hear it

-----

At the beginning of this year, I decided to memorize a poem. It's pretty long, and I made some progress on it, but didn't quite make it through the whole thing. I'm glad I took the time on it. Maybe I'll come back to it again, see what more I can do. Maybe not.

I'm thinking about choosing another poem for next year. Maybe to memorize, maybe not. I found this one. Not to memorize, just to read. And to listen.

Good Bye Fox, by Mary Oliver

 GOOD-BYE FOX  

He was lying under a tree, licking up the shade.

Hello again, Fox, I said.

And hello to you too, said Fox, looking up and not bounding away.

You're not running away? I said.

Well, I've heard of your conversation about us. News travels even among foxes, as you might know or not know.

What conversations do you mean?

Some lady said to you, "The hunt is good for the fox."

And you said, "Which fox?"

Yes, I remember. She was huffed.

So you're okay in my book.

Your book! That was in my book, that's the difference between us. 

Yes, I agree. You fuss over life with your clever

words, mulling and chewing on its meaning, while

we just live it. 

Oh!

Could anyone figure it out, to a finality? So

why spend so much time trying. You fuss, we live.

And he stood, slowly, for he was old now, and

ambled away. 

-----

It is unseasonably warm for Wisconsin in October. 80 degrees? Unbelievable.

I sat on my porch at lunchtime. No phone, no book, no music. I listened to the traffic of course, but also the slight hint of wind chimes, birds, trees rustling.

The tree across the street is red on top and green on the bottom. The birds are flitting around, doing their thing. And always the bees in my garden. Bumbling, buzzing. If I stand close enough, I can hear them too.

It made me think about this poem. You fuss over life with your clever words, mulling and chewing on its meaning, while we just live it. 

Relaxing day with Jim and Pirate John at a table outside Dolcetto, by David

*** Guest author David ***

An hour past midday in August, sitting on the veranda at Dolcetto at the Conrad Singapore Orchard Hotel.  Finally a day off to relax.

It rained right before the sun hit its peak, pealing a few degrees from the cement walkways and tarred roads. The breeze carries much of the moisture away and dries the surface. this eighty-eight-degree day is far more tolerable than all of the last week. Still persistently humid, the air is fresh and renewed. 

Though spending a few minutes to record these moments in word and stanza, I have taken in quite the opposite, spending the lazy wet Saturday morning on my quest to reintroduce imagination with classics I enjoyed in my youth. 

Now two-thirds of the way through Robert Louis Stevenson's story of young Jim Hawkins and his antagonist Long John Silver, I wonder how it will conclude. Yet I know, as these words have been seen and absorbed into my consciousness before.

I am sure the lush tropical environment of Singapore surroundings has affected the words I am rereading this day in an unusually spiritual way. As I read of Jim's struggle making his way back to the Hispaniola anchored off the shore of Skeleton Island he is observing the sails catch and the release of the wind over and over again. This is a sure sign they are not being attended to. 

I feel that very breeze turn to wind again and again while my mind pauses to reenter my bodily presence. The lack of care today has also left my sails untrue and unmanned. Or am I too, in that small craft fashioned by Ben Gunn while he has awaited his rescue marooned on that rarely visited rock?

Thankful for a quiet and peaceful weekend abroad, I shall again return to my reading and find myself on that island with Jim and that fascinating yet wicked Long Jon Silver once more.

***

David is in Singapore. I didn't realize how close Singapore is to the equator. It's tropical. Approaching the 2 week mark, he was told to stay another week.

I'm now less than 48 hours from picking him up at the airport and I am just counting down the minutes until I see his gorgeous face. 2,820 minutes and counting...

How I Go Into the Woods, Mary Oliver

 

Ordinarily, I go to the woods alone, with not a single

friend, for they are all smilers and talkers and therefore

unsuitable.

I don’t really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds

or hugging the old black oak tree. I have my way of

praying, as you no doubt have yours.

Besides, when I am alone I can become invisible. I can sit

on the top of a dune as motionless as an uprise of weeds,

until the foxes run by unconcerned. I can hear the almost

unhearable sound of the roses singing.

If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love

you very much.

***

I sent this postcard to Shelly. I've been sending her nonstop postcards since she left for her latest trip to the mountains. I've had a lot of reactions when I tell people what she's up to. The first time she went, she was 15. We put her on a plane to Portland Maine, she was gone for a month. And she came home with great stories, she made new friends. success. She found a new program last summer on the West coast. Another success. This year, she's again on the West coast for a month in the mountains.

We both enjoy Mary Oliver's poetry. I feel a bit like an imposter, I enjoy the suburbs and don't make frequent efforts to get out into Nature. But Shelly. I think of Shelly when I read Mary Oliver's words. Her deep love and respect for the natural world.

The Fable in Thermodynamics, Nikita Gill

***

I tried a thing where I used an app to add a background and make a postcard. I sent this to Shelly, she's on her first week in the mountains. Hopefully it's legible for her. Hopefully she's having a good time. Hopefully the wildfire smoke isn't making everyone miserable. (Quit worrying Mama, she's gonna be fine.)

I'm not memorizing this one yet. It's a little different than the others, not quite as flowery and steeped in nature imagery.

This all is so much, we come from the corners of the universe to exist in this exact moment in time in this place. I am so cosmicly blessed. Thank you universe, thank you nature, thank you all the things.