It Is What It Is – an SWB post

C.C. remains in hospital — we’re hoping he’s home today or tomorrow. His ward is on lockdown still due to Covid and Beau wishes I could throw the ball better.

Amazing how sometimes it just takes a dawg’s wisdom to put the world back in perspective.

He does hope you come and join him on his blog today for a bit of relief from this arctic weather (if like us it’s been sub-Arctic for days) or just for a light-hearted chat about life and what is. Just click HERE to hop on over to Sundays with Beaumont.

Sometimes, a good cry is the best medicine.

When C.C. calls to tell me I can’t come visit him, I cry.

I don’t know if these are tears of disappointment or relief. Maybe both.

My fear of taking Covid to him every time I walk through the hospital doors struggles against my desire to be there with him.

I think fear is clouding my thoughts, my vision, my being present.

I let the tears fall.

Sometimes, a good cry is the best medicine.

Unfortunately, the fact his ward is in lockdown because Covid is present doesn’t do much for my fear. But, when a nurse calls later to tell me about the lockdown and I thank her and tell her how grateful I am for their care of my beloved and how sorry I am they have to also endure Covid on the ward, she replies. “It’s okay. It’s happened before. We have good protocols.”

I tell her I wish there was something I could do and she replies, “Your understanding is all we need. We really appreciate people not getting angry about the lockdown.”

And I wonder, in the face of all the other things they’ve had to experience and endure these last two years, how often do they also have to deal with people’s anger?

Probably too often.

Which is when I realized how important it is to deal with my own stuff… BEFORE I deal with other people.

Dumping my angst, my anger, my frustrations, anything that makes someone else’s journey harder, on them doesn’t create ‘the more’ of what I want to create in the world — harmony, joy, peace, unity, community. Love.

And so, I let the tears wash away my angst and go back to chanting my mantra, “I walk in beauty now. Beauty lies before me. Beauty lies above me, below and behind me.”

C.C. is improving, though he had a setback yesterday in his oxygen levels, we’re hoping today they are righted and he is still on track to make his way home, to me (and Beaumont the Sheepadoodle)… to safety… to love… today.

And I smile when I see the word ‘safety’. While he is ‘safe’ there I know at home, now that his pneumonia is under control he will not only get well faster, he will most definitely be safer from this microbe that insists on appearing in all the wrong places.

Much gratitude for this morning, this day, the river that still flows in the spaces where ice is not covering its surface. The lights upon the bridge that cast brilliant ripples on the river’s flow and the warmth of our home wrapping me up in a welcoming blanket of safety and joy.

Namaste. It’s a good day to be alive.

From Me to You. Thank You.

I awoke this morning with gratitude filling my heart as I thought of all the beautiful comments and love I received yesterday.

It is hard to describe how your words and support fill my heart, lessening fear and worry and lighting up my day.

And so… I wrote this for all of you.

From Me to You
Louise Gallagher

If I have but one prayer
let it be, Thank You.

Thank you for the sunrises
and settings,
the clear skies and grey days.
Thank you for the moments
that fill my heart with joy
and the ones that push it to breaking
open 
wide
to all the beauty that surrounds me.

Thank you for the easy roads
and rough trails.
Thank you for the calm waters
and stormy seas.
Thank you for the love and laughter,
the pain, the sorrow and tears.

Thank you for all of it
for all of it is held
within the sacred nature
of this wondrous life
full of unfathomable mysteries
and inexplicable tragedies,
ripe with breath-taking moments of awe
and back-breaking moments of grief.

Thank you for all of it
for all of it is a gift
and within all of it
Love beats its steady tattoo
calling me to rise up
and dance and sing
and twirl about
and shout out loud,
I am grateful for each breath,
each moment of this life
and all who walk alongside me
and make the hard places softer
and the easy times more thrilling
and the worries and dark times lighter
and the joys and laughter brighter. 
Thank you. 

You Are Not Welcome Here

It is a conundrum I carry with me. It infiltrates my thoughts, creeping into every crevice creating ripples of fear that billow around my mind like smoke from a chimney, causing my breath to catch and me to gasp for air.

Which is where the conundrum lies.

Each breath is fear-laden yet, to dissipate fear, I must breathe. Slowly. Deeply. Steadily.

And I don’t want to. Breathe. At least not here, in a hospital where the air fellow humans have expelled could be laden with unwanted guests. Not in this place where my beloved has been resting and healing since New Year’s Day when a winter cold had turned to pneumonia necessitating medical intervention.

My mind scurries around ‘What if…?’ with the slithery adeptness of a fish moving through water.

What if that molecule of air I cannot see is rife with poisonous particles? What if my next breath draws in unwanted viral content eager to attach to my airways, its only mission to spread through my lungs?

What if…? I get infected and don’t know it and give it C.C. and… What if?

I imagine holding my breath. A long time. Like a looonnnnng time. And, even though I know it’s impossible and that in that one breath the undesirable is possible anyway, I catch myself standing outside the sliding doors of the hospital taking a deep, deep breath.

I hold it for as long as I can and exhale.

And take another, letting the power of breathing calm my jagged fears, soothe my worried mind.

And I walk in. Mask in place. Sanitizing my hands at every possible station. Keeping my distance from everyone I meet. As I step onto the elevator and use my elbow to press the button for his floor, I keep my mind busy with thoughts of well-being, chanting silently to myself words I learned years ago in a meditation class, “I walk in beauty now. Beauty lies before me. Beauty lives above me, behind and below me.”

And I walk into my husband’s room, calm of mind, gentle of heart, letting the smile behind my maskt be visible in my eyes. I greet him with a kiss blown from a safe distance and sit down at the edge of his bed for a leisurely visit.

Perhaps my fearless presence will remind this pernicious bacterial visitor who has taken up residence in C.C.s lungs that only love is welcome here.

Only Love.

She Dares To Transform Pain Into Beauty.

Yesterday. The day before. And before that…

so much.

to reflect upon.

remember.

savour.

And through it all, woven threads of gold spun with sapphires and emeralds and precious moments and words and thoughts glittering like diamonds in a field of love.

It is the last day of this year, a year rich with memory and joy and sadness and hardship and possibility and new adventures and missing friends and treasured rare encounters.

A year like no other. But then, every year is a year like no other for every year is filled with days sparkling with opportunities to experience, lessons to learn and happenings to grow through.

As this day (and year) draws to a close and C.C. and I, having forgone the small gathering we had planned with two other couples, await our meal to arrive at the front door, I reflect upon all that has happened, all I have learned, done and left undone or not even started. I smile at all I have gathered, created, discarded and accumulated. And, I am reminded of how this year has been a year like no other, and yet a year none-the-less to experience and learn from and breathe through as I stumbled, surmounted, succumbed and succeeded beyond my wildest imaginings.

So much of this year feels like a blur, like I was sleep-walking through its days, going through motions but not really connecting to the essence of all it offered. And still, there are moments of pure bliss, of complete surrender, of divine grace shimmering within each breath I took as I lived each moment fully embodied in the mystical, unfathomable mystery of life.

I am so many things and within this moment right now, I am grateful, humbled, and surprised by how full my heart feels, how deep my sense of awe becomes me and how truly blessed I am in this life for which I hold deep and abiding gratitude.

I spent the day in the studio today. Inspired by a conversation with a friend, an email from another, an encounter at the dog park, the wide-open clear blue sky, the fresh (ok, arctic cold) air, the frost embracing the trees, the river finding new paths through the rapidly forming ice and Beaumont the Sheepadoodle trying to shed his new booties (he was unsuccessful!) and the advent of a new year, I wrote a poem and then spent a day in my studio creating to the poem which I wrote in gold lettering as part of the background of my latest creation.

Luminous Light
by Louise Gallagher

Luminous light
aches 
for the passage of time
to lean out
beyond the darkness
holding our hopes
in tender hands
like a nest gently
sheltering
a babe
preparing to fly
into a new year
full of promise
that the old one has passed
away
holding nothing
but imaginings
of a future
full of mystery, wonder and awe.

I wish for you, as they say in Germany, a “Guten Rutsch ins Neue Yahr.”

May the slip from the old to the new be a gentle reminder to live each moment with all your heart and to open yourself up with wild abandon to all the beauty, mystery, and awe the world has to offer.

And, as my creation today extolls, may you always dare boldly to transform life’s hardships into a world of beauty.

Happy New Year!

From Where I Sit…

It was a lovely Christmas. Though…. the weather-casters call the weather, extreme cold (which it is) I still call it the most wonderful time of the year..

Where’s my gift?

Though even Beaumont the Sheepadoodle has his limits and at -31C (-24F) (with windchill -38C – 36C) he is not as keen on staying out too long as normal — but he’s also not keen on not going out either!

So we compromise

I drive him to the park rather than walk. We do one short off-leash walk (max 15 min) I try to throw the ball as much as possible but it keeps freezing to the chucker cup and won’t release! Sometimes, in my vehement throw, I release the whole chucker and it goes flying — it’s quite the sight and quite confusing to Beau!

But, if I remove the temperature from the equation, it’s very beautiful. Bare-branched trees laced with hoar frost. Sun glistening off the snow. Mist rising from the river. The halo mist of my breath around my face. The crunch of snow beneath my boots. Beau’s breath drifting behind him as he runs across a wide-open field. And the silence.

So much silence in winter’s Arctic grasp.

So much silence and stillness. No birds sing or flit amongst the naked trees. No squireels scamper across the snow-laden meadow. No other dogs and walkers.

Though earlier, as Beau and I traipsed across the open meadow, a man and woman jogged past with their dog. They were not bundled up in parkas, just running gear and balaclavas. With a cheery “Merry Christmas” and a wave of their hand, they kept going. Way too cold to stop for a visit. And later, as I drove along a snow-covered road, a man rode by on his bicycle, his body like a giant blimp as he pedaled furiously to keep moving through the cold and snow.

To live in this place, you must be prepared for the weather.

I am grateful for Beaumont’s insistence we get out for a walk at least twice a day. I might not leave the house until spring if he didn’t!

I hope you had as beautiful and joyful Christmas/holiday season as we did. Family. Friends. Laughter. Fun. Good food. Wine. and great company.

We stuck to the rules of gathering under Dovid’s mane, and still had a wonderful time! As my daughter said, it’s been a while since we’ve been able to gather at all. What a joy!

I got to decorate the table. Make name tags (tiny string Christmas tres) and use duct tape and a cardboard insert from a paper towel ring to make serviette holders to go with my salt dough angels, and set the table all pretty and sparkly so that we could gather together to share that special space of family and friendship!

My kind of holiday celebration.

I hope yours was as joyful and full of love!

Namaste.

Solstice Morn ( a poem for Peace. Love. & Joy.)

Bundled up against the chill of this December 21st morning, Beaumont the Sheepadoodle and I head out for our early morning walk beneath the glow of the full moon waning.

It is still quiet at this early hour. A few cars. No pedestrians. Upriver, unseen, I hear geese squawking and chattering where they huddle on an ice island stretched out along a gravel bar close to the river’s edge.

It is in these early morning walks, my boots crunching on the snow, my breath forming an ethereal misty cloud in the air around me, that I feel the unfathomable mysteries of life moving deeply through and within me, connecting me to the wonder and awe of it all.

It is here I feel wholly immersed within the joyful embodiment of this precious moment full of life’s delicate, mystical enchantment.

It is here I feel one within the presence of the sacred nature of all of life.

It is here I awaken.

Namaste

____________________

On Sunday evening I joined in a Solstice celebration in the enchanted forest of Kerry Parson’s magical backyard haven.

We stood around a fire and bid farewell to the things that no longer serve us and welcomed-in the light.

The word for 2022 that arrived for me from the depths of the fire within was Transformation.

I am enthralled. Excited. Beguiled by its possibilities.

Sundays with Beaumont — Beau’s Christmas Wish

Beau doesn’t believe a picture says a thousand words so he had to add to his holiday photo with a whole bunch of words about how he’s so grateful for all of you! (He also wasn’t too impressed that I put a Santa had on his head but hey! I’m the one in control of the keyboard! 🙂 )

Please do come and share in his Christmas joy – it’s all on the blog today!

Just click this link to read his weird charming message!

Life’s Untold Mysteries

Life's Untold Mysteries
by Louise Gallagher

Every day untold mysteries
await
to unfold
in soft gentle ripples
in grand sweeping gestures
in rippling currents of ecstasy
or raging waves of chaos
leading to new growth, new vistas, new opportunities.

We cannot live into the untold mysteries
of each moment
until we release
our hold
on what is blinding us
to their presence

To fly free
to dive
deep
into life’s untold mysteries
we must let go.

It is never too late to let go.


Today’s poem is in response to a prompt at Eugi’s Causerie. The word prompt today is “Untold”.

Writing in response to a prompt is fun! I hope you try it.

Just click on over to Eugi’s place to participate, and to read how other’s have interpreted her prompt.

Special thanks to Lilli Ann for inspiring me to reply.