On anger and getting kicked off a Facebo...
In the autumn of 2019, during six weeks of radiation treatments while Henry and I stayed at the John Zay guest house near Penrose Hospital in Colorado Springs, I spent a lot of time writing and making small paintings, and I joined a Facebook support group for people diagnosed with glioblastoma called something like “from…
Prescription: my daily dose of circle, s...
Circle Roll with itdon’t sweat the small stuff, even if the small stuff goes on all day longmake like a duck letting problems drip off your feathers, or lick them dry like a catbe like water flowing around boulders, knowing that eventually the rock will wear awayrelax and keep your sense of humor — be…
Randori practice
Okay sensei glioblastoma, you brought me to my knees with Nancy’s death. Even though we all knew it was coming, your throw had an extra kick in it, a little more than was strictly necessary. After I got up and shook it off, you gave me a subtle head fake and totally swept my balance…
Clear scan. Now what?
The doctor practically danced into the room as he handed us a comparative printout of my brain, one MRI taken in September in which a whitish/grayish blob is visible, and today’s with no white spot at all, a uniform hue. He said the Avastin seems to be working… and whatever else you’re doing, keep doing it. Shall…
When I return
When I return I will be a dolphin in search of Henry if he returns as a dolphin. Together we will glisten as we leap into the air and plunge back into the ocean, spouting and clicking and singing our delight at being alive again in the great mother. Together, we might save a drowning…
2020 winter solstice as Jupiter and Satu...
The longest night of the longest year trouble still looms but birth is near a way is opening, the path will soon clear open to the light; let go of your fear give your love to those you hold dear take the brakes off and slip into gear the time is now; the place is…
On losing my grip: practice for letting ...
When I was young, I didn’t realize that losing your grip was more than a metaphor for losing your mind, losing control, losing touch with reality, becoming confused, indecisive, foundering at sea. I always suspected that losing your grip had something to do with aging: a dulling of the sword, a dampening of the mental…
Health system blues
How come I get to have a million-dollar brain when others lack a ticket just to get on the train? Only five years ago I’d be living in pain untreated, uninsured, left out in the rain like so many laid flat by the spread of corona, hanging onto each breath, at the edge of a…
The Sheepdog and the Tire
When we lived in Jaroso, a neighbor kept sheep during a time when raising sheep still paid. A large sheepdog of some breed — Great Pyrenees, I think — guarded the herd from coyotes and other dogs, but he must’ve been prone to chasing cars because my neighbor attached a large truck tire to his…
Pushing back against a shrinking comfort...
The other day Jayne and I rode horseback in the back field. The wind was up, and Esperanza was in Arabian dance mode rather than her sensible, grounded Morgan. I call it her Arab spring. I haven’t been riding much lately because I don’t want to ride alone, so to play it safe, I wait…