Clear eyes

I woke early this morning with clear eyes.  An amazing thing, really.  They have been clouded with allergies and fog-brain as of late, for at least a couple months. Clear eyes.  Here they are again. Alleluia.

The sun shines gold

At this early reclaimed hour.

Enough yellow leaves remain

To filter gold light

Against blue tint,

Just arrived,

Morning sky.

And me?

I woke with clear eyes

To see it.

More to be done

I adore the light in the fall.  This fall I adore it more, if that is possible.  In my office under the altar I see the crooked pine out my window as evening falls.  The sun angles different in the fall, more sideways somehow.  It illuminates different parts of things.  This fall I see there is more to be done. I know I only see a small speck.  So I start with the speck.

There is more to be done,

Much more.

I have been given

A tiny glimpse

Of all it entails,

A glimmer,

A sideways shimmer

As the light angles different

This particular fall.

There is more

To be seen

In the fall light:

The crooked pine illuminated

Just so

Out my office window.

There is more to be done,

A possibility or two

Out my office window,

On the bench

Under the pine.

Clear-eyed day

Enough said.

I wait for days

Such as this.

The electrical currents in my brain

Flow

As they should.

Maybe even better.

I wait for days

Like this.

I see the ducks scrabble for corn

Across the way,

Keep my eyes peeled

For the hawk*s return,

Watch the light travel

Illuminate bird

After bird.

The cardinals

Gather in the back bushes,

Male and female cardinals.

I know they are singing

Even with all the doors

Shut against the cold.

I know they sing

Their unmistakable cardinal song.

I sing indoors

Harmonize with the cardinals,

The quack of the ducks.

I wait for clear-eyed days

Such as this.

Everywhere I sat

Thought I*d sleep in this morning.  No.  Funky dream.  Everywhere I sat the sun was in my eyes. Hmm.

I dreamed I had another room

Next to the room

I use

For therapy.

It was furnished

With white furniture.

Everywhere I sat

The sun was in my eyes.

I couldn*t see a thing.

The door to the hall

Had a window

Open to the rest of the church.

No shade.

There were no blinds

On the outside windows.

The sun shone

Through every window.

I wondered if this was the room

I started

Or ended in.

Maybe both.

If the world ends today

It seemed easier somehow to leave the plastic film on the new back doors until the construction was finished.  We had our first snow last night.  I woke up at 4:30 AM.  When I came downstairs, the snow called out.  I saw it only dimly through the plastic on the back doors.  The cat and I removed enough film on one door to see the backyard and snow, pre-dawn.  If the world ends today, it seems best to see things full-on.

If the world ends today

Or simply,

Or not so simply,

Begins again,

It seems imperative

To remove the plastic sheets

From the new glass doors;

To see the snow layered

On the back patio

In its most basic fullness

As it shines pre-dawn

White wet cold

Grass still poking through

(Not much snow)

(granted)

But if the world ends today,

First the plastic

Must be removed,

The entirety

Of layered snow

Seen

Appreciated for its snow-ness.

If the world ends today

Or simply begins again,

First it is time

For the plastic

To be removed.

Support

I often talk with clients about the value of seeing and talking about things outside the confines of our singular mind.  Things often look different in the light.  I am in a place of change, particularly change of my support network.  I realize as I look at the pieces on my desk: my desk is full... my life is full ... I am already living in a sort of paradigm shift.  There is already a different currency exchange.

It is almost noon.

I lay my support

On the desk

In front of me.

I note the pieces

Which go together:

Who stands on whose shoulders;

Who is missing;

Who might be

Added

To the mix.

I would like

To barter,

Trade support

For support.

I imagine a world

Where no one pays

For anything,

Everything is offered

Freely

Around kitchen tables.

I imagine

A world that runs

On different currency.

I realize

I am wealthy in support

Of all kinds.

My desk is full.

I realize

I am full.

New glasses

Sometimes a relatively simple change allows other things to change around it.  I tell clients this all the time.  Why should it be so surprising to me?  Now it seems I do not need to spend as much time and effort getting things into focus.  The prisms in my new glasses help me focus more easily. The prisms actually seem to help, not just my vision, but my hearing and apprehension of the world around as well.

Already I notice the difference.

There are no rainbows evident

But the fall colors are clearer.

When I worked out this morning

I could see the trainer

Across the room.

I even saw aspects

Of my lunch partner yesterday

Which took me

By surprise.

I know this has nothing to do

With prisms

Really

But then again

Maybe it does.

Already I notice a difference.

Already I know

It relates to more

Than prisms

Or potential rainbows.

Jaws

Today is acupuncture treatment #3.  Already I have learned new things by paying attention to new things.  It seems I store tension in my jaw.  Jaw exercises have not been part of visits to the physician or therapy or working out twice a week.  Maybe the dentist might have said something, but I don*t grind my teeth at night, so probably not.  It*s not a surprise that blocked ears and blurry eyes might have some relation to tense jaw. It*s all connected, after all.  Meanwhile, I open and close my mouth like a fish, and remember that a smile might be therapeutic to me, as well as those I encounter.

Already I learn new things:

It seems the tension in my jaw

Contributes to blocked ears,

Blurred eyes.

When I exercise my jaw

By smiling,

Whenever I remember

To smile,

The world lightens

My ears clear

The blur that still remains

Softens to new possibility.

When I pay enough attention

To open and close my mouth

Like a fish,

Usually in private,

My ears clear,

My eyes

 Seek out

New things.

The gym was closed

Today we got all ready to work out, then the call came that the gym was without power.  We decided to walk the neighborhood instead, despite the coffee and newspaper allure.  I spent yesterday convincing clients to exercise.  Right.  So we took a walk to Turner Pond, past the corner house with the pear trees, past the house of the woman-who-would-be-mayor.  We put in two miles, then returned home at about the time our workout would have ended.  A morning walk.  Definitely different from the evening variety.

Today was a full survey

Of the neighborhood.

The gym had no power

So we stayed home

And walked

Instead,

Realized the trees on the corner lot

Are pear,

Not apple,

A fact not noted in our usual

Evening walks.

The morning light illuminated

The yellow fruit.

We passed the not-so-green lawn

of the woman

Who aims to run the village.

She finally dumped the black jockey

From her porch.

Now her house

Is politically neutral.

When she runs for mayor

We will probably still

Not vote for her.

The gym was closed

So we walked instead,

Took a morning survey

Of the neighborhood.

Now we wonder about the pears,

Not apples,

On the corner lot.

Now we wonder

Whether the woman will ever

Run for mayor.

Ornaments to be mailed

The tree is folded and put away.I have looked at the straw ornaments every year, knowing they belong to my son.  He is almost 25 and on his own.  It is time to send them.  We have never done designer Christmas trees.  Our trees carry ornaments from years and years of collecting, and with them are the memories.  The plastic shoebox will carry some of those memories north. 

Day five of clearer vision.

Maybe it will stay.

The tree is down,

Branches folded and tied with twine

For next year.

There is a tree-sized space

Between the bookshelves

Where it stood.

The cat mourns the bells

That hung

From every lower branch.

I have packed a plastic shoebox of ornaments

For Minnesota,

For my son,

For next year;

Ornaments

They are really his:

The straw ones in a metal Christmas can,

A wedding gift from the priest

Who married his dad and me;

The  yarn Santa made by his cousin;

The red plastic bell

From the set he bought

At the sidewalk sale,

Age five,

Ten cents for more plastic ornaments

Than anyone ever saw,

Ten cents:

A proud purchase.

And others:

Samples of the family set

Of bells,

Of snowflakes,

Of handmade sparkly pipe-cleaner creatures

(one a dinosaur

He loved dinosaurs).

Two new ones from Peru:

Knitted sheep: black and white.

I have another day

Of clearer vision.

I have the Christmas plastic shoebox

Ready to be mailed

Next to the tree-sized hole,

The cat, now asleep

In the sun.

One of those days

I hate those days when there is nothing bad to point to, but it is still one of those days.  I have to work to notice the good stuff, even when most of it is good, really good, not Pollyanna-good.  I have to work to notice it because if I don*t I will sabotage the outward goodness of the day.  This is hard work, this noticing. Sometimes a good night*s sleep brings a different day.

Yesterday was one of those days,

The kind I had to force myself

To notice

The sun shining.

For the third day running

I saw clearly.

I passed the credential test.

Still

My supervision was more like

Therapy.

I left irritated,

Ready to quit

The whole thing.

Yesterday

Was one of those days.

I slept on it.

Today is day four

Of clear vision.

It is Epiphany, after all.

The sun is shining,

Not hard to see.

The lady across the creek

Feeds the ducks as she does all winter,

Every winter.

Today is another day,

Brighter, crisper, cleaner.

The wise men stand at the manger

In full Starlight.

It is time

To dismantle the Christmas tree,

Time

To move on.

Today woke up clear

My eyes have been significantly clearer the last three days.  Jeff and I sit at the table and try to figure out why.  Maybe we can replicate the circumstances and make it stay.  Our latest conjecture is that it*s the cold and the lack of humidity.  All I know is that today things are clearer.  I am grateful.

Today woke up clear.

The day is clear.

My eyes are clear.

I am trying to notice

When things come clear.

Heaven knows I*ve written enough

On blurred vision.

I never knew exactly why

It was blurred.

I am reminded today

That I don*t know why

The last three days have been clear.

I don*t know why,

But I am grateful.

Maybe more so.

I hope I remember.

Today woke up clear.

The day is clear.

My eyes are clear.

I hope I remember.

Clearer sight and lunch

I am used to working out in a blur these days.  Today I saw more clearly for at least half an hour.  Good vision has continued.  I am grateful for whatever reason this is true.  Clearer sight and lunch with friends... what could be better?

I am curious what today

Will bring.

Today it is colder,

A spit of snow on the ground.

The sun shines and for once

I am seeing more clearly,

Longer than usual.

Maybe it*s the temperature

But I worked out this morning

With less blur.

I am curious

What today

Will bring.

I am dressed for the staff lunch

Rescheduled for today

The lunch I could not attend

Before Christmas.

Clearer sight and lunch with friends.

What could be better?

Gifts

I am still learning this.  Next year I may have learned it more.  It*s probably another of those things I will  continue to learn. This year because of non-driving thing, I did on-line shopping exclusively.  Hence the boots from England.  The boots that were originally exactly what were asked for.  But not by Christmas morning.  Hmmm.   Probably lots is wrapped up in this.  This Christmas I remember my father for whom Christmas was particularly important.  I remember the bear puppet with the squeaker in his head that he got me when I was in seminary.  It was the perfect gift.  He saw me with another puppet... and he saw me.  Hard to explain, but it was the perfect gift.  Thomas (the bear puppet)(named after Thomas Aquinas) is still a vital part of my puppet collection.

Do not order boots from England

That cannot be returned easily,

Even if they are a good price.

Do not order semi-gloss boots

When shiny boots are obviously

The right thing.

Do not order navy blue

When it will surely morph to hunter green

Two days after the boots are ordered.

Gift certificates are good things.

Remember gift certificates.

Unless it comes with an exact serial number

Do not order it.

Remember gift certificates.

But

Better yet:

Think of things which match

The person*s eyes

Or complexion,

Things that line up with

His sense of humor,

Her whimsy.

Things that say:

When I saw this I thought of you,

Exactly you,

The way you move

The way you smile

The way you wrote the letter from Santa

In alternating red and green lines,

Noting special appreciation

From Prancer.

Think of things that better say

When I saw this

I thought of you

Exactly you.

Right now children own the earth

Children have newer eyes.  I think we often need their newer eyes to see new things amidst the old and familiar.  

Right now

Children

Own the earth.

It has nothing to do with presents,

Santa Claus,

How much

How many.

Or with the older ones:

Christmas break.

Right now it is children,

Younger, older.

They light the way,

Notice new life

Along the road.

The otters in the pond

Dip and dive.

The adults are stuck

In old ways of seeing.

On this darkest day,

The first day of Hannakuh,

They say Look:

The world turns again to light.

Look!

New life on the road!

Look!

Otters!

This morning I practice seeing.

There is a great white egret

Across the creek

Under the palm trees.

The fifteen year olds shake their heads.

They say,

In the way only fifteen year olds can,

I choose to see

Something different.

I practice

Listening to them.

Sunday funnies

I was reminded in church this morning that we are a people who believe in healing.  I believe in healing.  It seems I believe it more for others.  The word came through a person I do not admire.  Of course it did.  And this evening it came through the Sunday funnies.  Of course it did.  It seems I need to learn this in stages.  It seems I need multiple lessons in grace.  It seems I need the whole grace curriculum.

I am in the blue chair again.

I reflect on helping to save the woolly bears yesterday.

Jeff is grading.

Sawyer is homeworking

If that is even a word.

I pick up the Sunday funnies.

I realize I can read them a little better

Than last week*s funnies.

I close my right eye and yes

My left eye is a little better,

Just a little better but still

Better.

It seems appropriate somehow

That I would notice

Through the Sunday funnies.

I think about the blind man

Jesus healed in stages.

First he saw trees walking

Then the whole picture emerged.

Of course it would come to me

Through the Sunday funnies:

Color pictures in the comics.

I want to knock on wood.

I want to wear my sunglasses.

I want to hold my breath.

Trees walking.

Right.

I want to know if there was something in particular

I was to learn.

I want to know if it will stay

If I have learned it.

I want to know if it will stay

If I haven*t.

More lessons

What a blessing to be at the halfway house, to be learning from the staff and the clients there.  My vision is still wonky.  I still have epilepsy, though I hope the increased seizure meds mean that I won*t have another seizure.  I have a lot to learn, as well as a lot to give.  Part of what I continue to learn is the receiving piece, something I could ignore when I was reasonably self-sufficient.  Again, I am blessed to be at the halfway house.  Perhaps all of us are only halfway there.

I continue to learn

To receive.

It*s not so easy

With genetic arrogance

Which says

I can do it all

Myself.

I can*t.

Of course I can*t.

I was never in control

Anyway.

Now I have to ask for help

Or spend a lot of time

In squint.

Now I wait for the trainer

To lead me to the next place.

I could travel on the train to Union Station

And back out

To Glen Ellyn,

Hours on public transit to go

A short distance.

Or I could ask for help.

I was never in control,

Anyway.

I watch the guys in the halfway house,

Caught by human foible,

I watch them

Learn to ask for feedback.

I think

They are not in control.

Just like me.

Showing up

What is it about human beings that when we don*t see something for ourselves, we believe the worst? This week I am back at it, and glad for it.  I am back at working out with Jeff, back at church, back at internship, back at having lunch with friends.  I am showing up, and showing up, and showing up again.  My head did not fall off.  No, I can*t drive until March (God willing).  Yes, my eye is still blurry.  Yes, my head is still firmly attached to my body.  

I learn once again

The best way to keep rumors

From taking over

Is to show up

And show up

And show up again.

No one believes

You are fine

In absentia.

Jeff tells me about his classmate

In high school.

He dove into the water,

Got a concussion.

While he was in the hospital,

The rumors went from concussion,

To broken neck,

To his head fell off.

It*s not just teenagers.

No one believes

You are fine,

You will be fine,

In absentia.

Not really.

This week I am showing up

And showing up

And showing up

Again.

It is the best way

To keep rumors

From taking over.

They grow

In absentia.

Seeing

Years ago now, I met this woman.  This was the sum total of her answer to How are you? I*m blind (she would say).  She was not born blind, it came on her later in life.  I never learned the story of how she became blind.  I, like many others, did all I could to move her in what I thought was a more positive direction.  It is probably not a surprise that I found myself thinking of her this morning, after exercising at the gym, and losing sight of the trainer.  Exercise causes both eyes to go blurry.  Now I have to tell people that they need to tell me if they*re going across the room, especially in a crowd of people.  I may lose track of them, not because I don*t care, but simply because I don*t see them.  Ah, pride.  I have new appreciation for beginning the conversation with I*m blind.  Of course, I do my best not to stop there.

Whenever anyone asked her

How she was,

She would answer

I*m blind

As if that summed it up.

We used to laugh

About her response.

She was, after all, so much more

Than her blindness.

Now I look through shimmer and blur

With one eye.

I am not blind,

Not even close,

But these are times

I better understand her answer,

So many years later.

There is much that comes

With the shimmer and blur.

Now I see in different ways,

Not better

Not worse

But different.

I see a halo and sparkle

In particular light,

I see the world

As through a drop of water.

The doctors cannot explain it,

But then

I really did not expect them

To explain it.

I*m blind

She said.

I*m blind.

I know a tiny bit

Of what she meant.

Brain cloud

I have made the run of specialists now.  They have looked at all the independent pieces, made all the tests.  The last one would like to see me in four to six weeks even though he sees nothing now.  I am thinking brain cloud.  I think I will sign up for yoga.  I don*t know when I will make it to the tropical island in the South Seas, but we can certainly buy the movie on DVD.

When we were dating

One of our favorite movies

Was Joe Versus the Volcano.

Joe*s diagnosis

Was brain cloud.

We have laughed over the years

About the non-existent status of

Brain cloud.

On several occasions

We have diagnosed ourselves

And others

With brain cloud.

It does not show up on MRI

With contrast

Or retina scan

With neon yellow dye.

The specialists have all determined

Even though my left eye still blurs

And shimmers

There is no determined cause.

I have determined

I have brain cloud.

Maybe it*s time for an ocean voyage

To a small Pacific Island

With a volcano