Gratitude Schmatitude

I'm not going to lie. I've been feeling about as low in general as I've ever felt, and rather than going through it all here (as I've done ad nauseum for many, many years), I'll just tell you that yesterday was a doozy in nearly all respects, that I spent a good many hours plumbing the dark side and didn't have any expectations that I'd be doing anything other than spelunking for the rest of my life. Have ya'll ever spelunked? I did many moons ago, when I was a painfully awkward preteen. I lived in Georgia, and as I recall it now, the weather was grotesque, hot and humid, but despite this, my mother had signed me up for a number of Red Cross activities which included canoeing, lifesaving and spelunking. As my regular readers know, I was a terrible athlete and preferred reading to just about any other activity, so slithering through a red clay tunnel was not something that I even remotely enjoyed. I do remember, though, that it was surprisingly cool in those tunnels and that I was actually pretty good at spelunking, namely because I was skinny. Yes, I was actually skinny back then and good in the dark, probably confident that light would come.

But I digress.

I know there are plenty of ya'll out there who espouse the whole gratitude thing, and while I've dipped into it now and then as a thing, I'm more prone to feeling gratitude for real, as opposed to a practice, and that's because I actually have so much for which to be grateful. In other words, it's not hard for me to feel grateful, even as I feel like shit or shit's raining down. Also, I was once a Catholic. I imagine only lapsed or former Catholics get the full gist of that statement.

The groove that my forehead has worn in the tile of my shower got a little action yesterday, as did the plumbing. Lots of tears. I am certain, during these times, that bitterness, resentment and overwhelming sorrow will take me over. You figure out which of those sentences are hyperbolic.

Then I opened my mail. I ordered the above pictured book a few weeks ago. It was published by the folks at gratefulness.org, or A Network for Grateful Living, an online site that I've had the pleasure of reading and then being a contributor off and on for many years. I always felt like a bit of an imposter when my writing appeared on their site, mainly because of the above -- the bitterness and resentment, the gratitude schmatitude thing and my own skill at spelunking. I ordered the book because what they do at gratefulness.org is a beautiful thing, and I want to support them. So, I'm flipping through the book, reading beautifully illustrated quotes by the Buddha and Barack Obama, by Brene Brown and Maya Angelou, Desmond Tutu and Mother Theresa, when I come upon -- well -- me.

I swear I'm not telling you this as an act of self-promotion or even as a humble brag. I'm telling you this because I was feeling as low as I've ever felt as I flipped through this small book, and I had no idea that my words would be excerpted in it. My initial response was to burst out laughing at all the world's absurdity, particularly my own.*

There are no accidents, my friend Carrie Link has said.

Yes, I felt buoyed by the support and restored by the acknowledgement. I felt released by laughter. Mostly, though, it occurred to me that even the great sages with whom I was absurdly placed must have periods where they, too, are stuck in dark tunnels, crushed by the earth, that all of us share this humanity and that we are humbled by one another and, of course, completely grateful for one another. For real, not as a thing.


You can order Everyday Gratitude here. Please support them because they're doing beautiful work in this world.













* The index of contributors places me after Maya Angelou and before Joan Baez. I know it's alphabetical, but ya'll!

and she shouted, "Bravo!"

Girl on the Flying Trapeze, 1936 Julia Thecla

her ethereal and sensuous portrayal of dreams, fairytales, and planetary realms were extraordinary explorations of alternative social orders.

DePaul University Art Museum, describing Julia Thecla 

I watched Wings of Desire the other night on a bed in a dark hotel room for the thousandth time, had forgotten the black and white film turning to color every now and then. We are black and white yet both see color, now and then, but this was after and one of us dreamt (him) and the other knew every word (her). Now and then. The German faces, the wide smile, the tilted head, the closed eyes. There's something spiritual in the library's murmurs, the way the angels walk among books, heads bowed over them. Wings on a bronze statue, a wall that divides Berlin. An angel lays his head on the man's shoulder, yet the man jumps over anyway and the angel screams. The desire for life. The woman on the flying trapeze, how later she shrugs out of her robe, her back, sinuous. The desire for love, to love. Even before I swung above the crowd myself, then, I was told you've an amazing back. I've a memory like a trap. I remember every word. You've an amazing back, he said. Now. Twice I've been told, then and now.

This morning Sophie groaned in her sleep before dawn, and I ran into her while she seized. It was a violent one and I was smacked in the face by one of her arms. I bent over her, gathering the limbs, what flies. I've walked the rope and swung on the trapeze, so many little people below. My back is strong. It never hurts. I don't feel gentle toward the situation in some moments. I don't feel gentle toward her. It's where I leave off and she begins and there's a space there filled with nothing. When I gathered her in my arms, limp now (then), a pieta, I did cry. And cry. And cry. And cry. She was spent and it cost me tears which are, in comparison, nothing.

The dog barked once and a package was thrown through the slot of the front door, made a thump. I left Sophie to go and pick it up, a small but heavy box from Seattle. Inside, a heavy book, The Complete Poems of Anna Akhmatova, translated by Judith Hemschemeyer. A pink Post-it over the crook of the poet's nose:

Dearest Adorable --
Reach for this
volume when
you most need
to counteract
the crazy.

❤️️  Leslie  xo

Yes, I took it as sign.
The signified and the signifier.

I seem to myself, as in a dream,
An accidental guest in this dreadful body. (Anna Akhmatova)

Several hours later, with no prompt from me, I received a picture of a painting on my phone, a girl on a trapeze, awkward yet strong.

I am thinking of you, she said (Tanya, my friend, not the girl). I asked her (Tanya, not the girl), Who painted this? 

Julia Thecla, Tanya said, I love her. 

Thecla is a forgotten Chicago painter of the 1930s and 1940s, in the school of magical realism. I did not know her.

Magical realism, a literary genre to which I have been drawn (then) -- Marquez, Borgia, Allende -- is also a genre of art, I learn (now). There are details (Sophie's groan, her bed, the seizure, her arms, my back, my tears, her limp body) that are real and then something strange, unbelievable  (the thump, the package, the Akhmatova, the note, the painting, the girl on the trapeze, ), through a hole in the door, via air.

I fly through the air with the greatest of ease

The Other Mess

a recent "trying to figure things out" text

Thought: I have to admit that I greatly resent my skill at drawing up Sophie's medicine into a syringe. Do you know that we have never, ever forgotten a dose in all the 21 years she's been taking this mess?




Thought: I also have to admit that I hate the fact that Sophie can swallow any size pill you toss into her mouth without gagging, choking, biting down on it or spitting it out. I hate that she is A Really Good Pill Taker.




Thought: I hate that David Bowie, Alan Rickman and Glen Frey all had to die.






Over the weekend, I had a dark hour before dawn that followed a day fraught with some anxiety about things unbloggable and things of Sophie World, so being the kooky cat I am, I decided to ask the I Ching a question and get some guidance, in lieu of lying in bed in a cold sweat of fear and trembling. Actually, I'm so not kooky in consulting the oracle, as it's guided me through countless conundrums over the past thirty years, and I've learned a lot about myself, my proclivities, my weaknesses and strengths as well as those of other humanoids. So.

In general, I asked the oracle what I should do about a certain situation and how I should proceed. The certain situation is very complex and life-altering/changing. It's all closing in and coming to a head or a point or whatever other cliche you can call life/changing events. I feel overwhelmed with everything, basically, despite many, many good things happening.

I got Hexagram 18 as my answer.  For those of you new to the I Ching, it's an ancient Chinese oracle with 64 possible results/outcomes. It operates under the principle of what Jung calls synchronicity. I studied Chinese in college, and while I remember exactly nothing of the language (except to say hello and thank you), I did keep my Wilhelm/Baynes copy with the forward by C.J. Jung and highly recommend it. I also use R.L. Wing's The I Ching Workbook to help clarify the hexagram. If you're going to do any work with the Book of Changes, you will want that workbook.  I realize it's sort of weird to type out what the I Ching said to me, but it's an exercise, and it'll help me to continue my pondering and mulling.

This is what Hexagram 18 says:

Repair
(decay)

The object of your inquiry is in a state of disrepair. This may be an inherited difficulty or it may have come about because you have been unaware of a need to constantly monitor, analyze, and attend to the details of the situation. You cannot ignore, or discount as unimportant, even the smallest detail of any situation over which you wish to maintain control. All things have built-in weak points, places that decay and eventually collapse. This is especially true in human affairs.

Stop now and think about it. Your problems may seem to be overwhelming; things may appear to be out of hand. Yet the hexagram REPAIR bodes great success. Through work you have the opportunity to totally eliminate the past indifference that has created the present uncomfortable situation. Work hard. You can see the problems clearly. The time is excellent for making amends. Do not be afraid to take assertive action. Outside forces do not influence the situation. Your own past attitude has allowed the damage to occur, making you uniquely equipped to REPAIR it.

Before taking action, it is important to consider the winding path that has led to this state of decay. Only through intelligent deliberation can you be certain that the action you take is correct. Think it over carefully. The original Chinese text recommends three days of consideration before making a move, but you will know when to act by the nature of what you propose to do. The correct actions now are constructive rather than combative and lay the foundation for continued growth toward the good. This is not a time for radical or reactionary reforms. Look, instead, for an avenue of constructive action, an area of positive growth. Be energetic once you've found your path of action. Don't be lulled into inertia by the magnitude of the task. The situation will develop new energy and inspiration once the problems are removed. Also remember that you must keep things in line once the change has been made. Don't slip back into an attitude of complacency. Your problems could easily recur.

This hexagram in its static form points to the necessity of a change in attitude about your environment as a whole. Too many elements of your life have reached a state of neglect, disrepair and inertia. You cannot hope to guide your destiny with any effectiveness when you do not have authority or control over everyday situations. Hope lies in an unrelentingly energetic and conscientious attitude.



Are you actually still here? Wow. I can't tell you how relieved and nearly thrilled I feel with this answer. There've been plenty of times when the hexagram I "get" is not so thrilling or plunges me into worry or makes me wish that I hadn't done the consulting. If you have doubts about this whole shebang, you should try it. It'll surprise you.

Our Lady of Ripening on the Vine

to Carrie and Wil

There are no accidents.

Yesterday was a difficult one, and I spent much of the afternoon in tears. By dinner-time, my responsibilities as a mother seemed as burdensome as a factory job, and while cutting a lemon for dinner, the lemon not dinner, I knicked the nail on my middle finger of my left hand. It was the first time I'd used the knife, a new one from Japan, it said. Exceedingly sharp. Precise. A bead of blood rose instantly to the surface and then a line that ran down the crease and into the cuticle. It hurt. A heart throbbing in a nail bed. Oliver was circling around having picked all the Meyers from the little tree in our garden bed. A bounty of lemons hanging heavy and ripe, limoni, a Montale poem. Please don't pick all of them, I had told him. They'll keep on the vine but not if you harvest them. He didn't listen to me as his wont, and because he's fourteen and his wont also includes over-reaction, because he is newly part of a broken family, I held my tongue at least to something duller. I set my mouth hard when I saw the giant bowl of lemons on the counter. Why did you pick them all? I said as I chopped, while I chopped before I cut. He wiped each one clean at the sink as I held my finger under water, pushing the blood out. We were both silent. I'm not sure when the tension eased, but at some point he showed me one particular lemon with a tiny "4" etched into the skin. Look! Mom! he said. Isn't this weird? It was weird, and it was cool. I agreed, my mouth softened. You have to eat this one whole, he said when I told him that 4 has always been my lucky number (since the 4th grade, when I had Mrs. Delp, my favorite teacher, four letters, the number itself, four letters, room 4 in school), Oliver put it beside my bed.

This morning I woke up, heavy in my bed. My finger throbbed. A heart in a finger. The bed of a finger. Some months ago, my friend Carrie wrote about Alana Fairchild's Mother Mary's Oracle cards and guidebook. I'm a sucker for oracles -- whether it's bibliomancy, the I Ching, a book of poetry, Mary the Mother of God. I bought a set. This morning, I shuffled the deck, cut it and turned over the top card. 

#4. Our Lady of Ripening on the Vine

I ask you to surrender your future-thinking to me. Although your future contains the promise of great blessings, do not let this distract you from the blessing I bestow upon you in this moment. I ask you to open your arms to my blessings in the here and now. You are the sweet fruit, heavy on the vine. The time for harvest has come. This is your time.

...This oracle comes to you as a confirmation -- there is something within you, something of you, that is ready. Even if the immediate reality doesn't match a fantasy that you have once held about how life would be when you would finally share more of yourself with the world, you are still ready and this is your time to shine.

...This oracle brings you a particular message that you are more ready than you think you are -- for whatever adventure most concerns your heart, or is already right at your feet. Do not shy away. It is your time for harvest. Open your arms and gather abundance to you. Trust that your abundance will benefit others too, because the more you have, the more you can choose to share and give. Do not be afraid to receive blessings and to have what your heart desires. The manifesting desires of your heart are the heavenly fruit becoming heavy on the vine and ripening, ready to be enjoyed. Fruit that is not gathered and eaten will rot, feeding the earth to be born again. So nothing is wasted. Yet that fruit could be sweetly savoured by those capable of receiving. There is so much waiting for you in this moment. Gather your harvest, accept the goodness and let gratitude fill your heart.

Damn if I'm not eating that lemon whole today, letting the sour and the sweet run down my face, clean my wounds. We've got bags of lemons to share as well.

I Ching

Whenever things get dark and dirty or I'm stumped as to how to proceed in life, I throw the I Ching. I'm no Nancy Reagan (who evidently consulted it when advising her husband), but I've found that it utterly helps me to clarify whatever predicament I'm in and motivates me to sit with said problem without anxiety or fear. If you don't know about The Book of Changes, I suggest you read about it online because I'm hard-pressed for time today and just don't feel like typing out an explanation in addition to what I'm going to type out here.

I have the original Bollingen Series of the Wilhelm/Baynes translation of The I Ching or Book of Changes with a remarkable forward about the book and synchronicity by the great C.G. Jung, but when I throw the coins, I use R.L. Wing's The I Ching Workbook. It's easier to understand, and I can keep a record of the outcomes I've gotten in its pages.

So, last night I asked a question -- which is particularly unbloggable -- threw my two ancient pennies and one Buddha charm -- and got a very satisfying answer -- an answer that enabled me to settle down in my bed and watch three episodes of Homeland on my Kindle Fire as I blew my nose and sipped tea (I have a nasty cold). Lest you think every hexagram/answer is as benign or gentle as the one I got below, I assure you that other times I've thrown the coins for guidance have resulted in very different answers, some with bold warnings and admonitions.

I know this is a cruel blog post in that I'm not divulging my question, but the answer was so perfect that I just felt like marking it:

Hexagram 52: Keeping Still; Meditation

There is a focus now upon your inner perspective. It is of particular importance at this time that you meditate upon the object of your inquiry. With this frame of mind you can realign yourself to the tao.

MEDITATION here refers to a state where your thoughts do not go beyond the situation at hand. It is not a single act but a frame of mind.  Once the mind is calm and the ego quelled, you will transcend your internal turmoil. Your inner stillness will bring enlightenment by objectifying your impressions. You can now make exceptional progress by acting in accordance with the cosmos. MEDITATION and inner calm will help to center you. Through objectivity, you will know when to act and when not to act. In this way you make no mistakes and suffer no consequences.

Because of the external complexities in worldy matters, it is of great importance to achieve an inner peace which will allow you to act in harmony with the times, rather than reacting with impulsiveness. Hold your thoughts to the present and attempt an unprejudiced view of the situation. Actions that spring from this attitude will be appropriate and well regarded.

Relationships can now benefit from internal stillness. By avoiding thoughts that project too far into the future, and dispelling illusions of what can or will be, you can overcome ego-generated difficulties. MEDITATION, as well, can prevent you from making regretful social errors.
MEDITATION, in general, can renew both mind and body. By pacifying stress that is based upon projection and fantasy, true relaxation can be attained. The instincts that spring forth will be in accordance with your real needs. Stop your thoughts now.

Stop your thoughts now! What a thought, no? It's back to the cushion and sitting, I believe -- my practice has been half-hearted, at best, but this gives me some impetus to circle back, as do these words of Lao Tzu, from the sixth century, B.C.:

He who knows does not speak.
He who speaks does not know.
Close the mouth.
Shut the door of desire.
Blunt the sharpness.
Untie the tangles.
Soften the light.
Become one with the dusty world.

The perfect poem for all the peeps

Reading this poem on The Writer's Almanac yesterday was a moment of perfect synchronicity (particularly after yesterday's post).  


 Success Story
My clothes are perfectly contoured
to my body. my shoes & socks
fit just right. My cat is a delightful
intelligent animal. My apartment
is great. The right location,
cheap rent. I eat the best food.
My friends love me. I adore them.
My lover is terrific & beautiful.
The sun is shining. There are trees
even in the slums in Washington.
I have tons of money & a gorgeous 
air conditioner. Great art hangs
on my wall. I live a spine-tingling life
of delirious sex & intense happiness.
                           
 -- Terence Winch

The last sentence, in particular, made me nearly howl with laughter.