Actually, I have nothing to report. All is well. Last week I worked 1.5 days and earned less than I would have collected, had I filed for unemployment for the week. But if I can get 3 days of work/week going forward I should be able to continue to pay my bills.
I still think about seriously downsizing, but as we move steadily into the dark-wet seasons of the year, I will probably stay put until the sun shines again. It feels cold to me in the house even in sweats and wool socks. It rained all night, good for my tomatoes, which are ripening in abundance this week.
I was out-of-town last weekend, but I did manage to post 4 new poems during the week and one “extra” blog here yesterday. It makes me very happy to have a plan that includes some daily writing. I suppose I could give up blogging, but it still feels important to me. I don’t think it will take away from my poetry. Blogging helps me to air out my smaller thoughts, the ones that buzz and blink at me like so many insects. I find out what’s on my mind this way.
The poetry is going well, better than I ever imagined really. It feels like something clicked for me about a year ago, after writing poems since adolescence, and now that I’ve started going through my journals in advance of the grand bonfire plan, I’m finding all of this material to glean for poem starters. It also informs me that all along I’ve had the same gift that I use now in writing, but not the emotional distance or skill to make poems of what I’ve witnessed and experienced. And now I think I do.
The fact of being rejected by the work world in terms of being able to do end-of-life care professionally is simply supplanted by my volunteer work with Compassion and Choices. I don’t have to get paid to continue to be part of a larger community that cares deeply about kindness in dying. I have several clients who rely on me for information and support, and a community that shares my views on suffering and death. I was willing to give up this volunteer work up for a job that wouldn’t support my views. I’m glad that, in the long run, that’s not how it unfolded.
After indulging pleasantly while out-of-town, I’m trying to get back to a healthy diet. I have little hope for getting more exercise, truthfully, I believe my heart is just not up for it. So many years of hypertension has made for damage that I can feel when I exert myself at all. I’m over thinking that I’m just being lazy. I stretch and walk, sometimes do yoga, and that’s about all I can do. Yesterday, I tried to recall the very last day in which I felt healthy and attractive, as if everything changed on a single day. I look at young people now and realize that in youth, we have no idea how youthfulness dissipates without our noticing and certainly without our consent. Thankfully, aging occurs very gradually, sneakily really, for otherwise, how could we bear it?