windthread

   

the Thread.   pulses.      She wanted to hear it all over again.   Who is whose mother.   Who is the baby of who.   When was that.  The order of it all.    while she was writing on her watering can     her name.   First     Middle   Last     N for nick names.

Emrie Grace Jimenez     N:   Emy   Em    M      How is it,  that Last names happen.    

 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              

this one floated to the surface.    as she used to say     "from a long day ago".

 

yesterday's comments……             Margery brings the words of  William Stafford       go look

and then,  oh….and then     Peggy McG       "Today what I do matters…and so will all tomorrows..but if no more tomorrows,  today I do..it may only affect me, or an ant, or a plant, or my family in some way..but I am and I matter."

how we use the metaphor of the Thread

am still with Marti's Telling…..it has a pulse      that   animates the Thread.           How reading HER  life,   i was left standing,  wondering,     Where Was       my      Aspiration?      What      Was   it?       OR      did i just not have any?     At first thinking that was true,   that i was Aspirationless.     O.     o.       

but then….the Thread began to    uhhhh,   flash,   just softly.   I thought about Deb Lacativa's Threads that live in a basked here on this table today,   their 3 strandedness….seperated….is strong enough to hold anything.  Their multi color changes that enliven everything.   

and it became Clear.    The Thread  went Here.,   1973   but….oh!  even before.   Before Nisargadatta,      Ramana Maharshi  oh…

eeeeeeee       And how that Thread has held strong,  even when un seen   over so many years   and now,   as i  come into this final chapter of things,     it Holds.   True.   and takes me where i need to go.   

so,   again,   Marti,   Thank You      Knowing more of You,   i know more of me.    SEEing you,    i can see my self.    WE.

 

Please go to Marti's comment on yesterday's post.         We will           pause       here.

 

so….just above,   2nd pic,    is right now just numbers,  no pic…..so i imagine it.       Here we are tho,  me and Emrie in B Garden…hallelujah for school being out and her NOT gone off to Texas   and   me and her,   us ,   in B Garden    and we noticed that the Aloe has 2 children pushed up against her in her pot ,   Emrie  watered  them.  and we talked about her 9 other children ……pic above………that i've done   NOTHING  about   since repoting Her and plopping them into this large pot together   and she was  already gone when i went down again to finish watering and she'd moved the copper pot next to the Mother Aloe   and as i was there,   i saw a glimpse of green in a pile of pine needles next to…..brushed them  aside and

oh jeez

she has evidently sent out children from the drainage holes of her pot………………….eeeeeee………….

and i thought,  am thinking,   about some things Marti had written Early this morning that i'd so much like to put here   

because those things and what they set into motion for me have turned into    THIS DAY         Marti……maybe you can somehow put what you wrote this morning into a            comment          here?     could you?    or,   if not,    how could we do it?,  get your words over here?      could we?

waking from Little Sleep      opening eyes and looking    body still    just eyes moving     over ,   across the "room"  of the place i live    to the shelf of Altar      and there in the farthest corner      those Salt Cedar sticks                And i thought,         it was more like a sensation than a thought,         I  Thought/Felt      about those certain things  we   love with ummmm,  a certain Steadiness     a quiet steadiness    as years go  along     

these pieces of cloth.    like the Salt Cedar sticks.     trying to figure out what i can        do    with    them      at this point in time,   but then   really,    it's that thing of the steadiness of the love

 

something it's not?  and never can be?   just Going with what IS     

I DID IT!     That lower left corner….where it fell on the ground when hanging it up…..it'll brush off.   It wasn't easy but it wasn't hard.    It was washing a full size bedspread in a bucket.     soaked 2 days,    agitated on and off one,   4 rinses   but

i did it and i am         satisfied.    Things CAN be done.      I'll save the Walnut sheet for when Emrie comes for a sleep over.   She will see.     It can be done.     and,     "small loads"  of clothing….Easy Peasy.  I look forward to that next.

 

 

 

 

 

i was going to tell why.    But as i come to do that,     i think i'm  just going to leave it at this.    The first of what i am hoping to be many many more.   

Yvette is back HOME      YES!!!!!!!!

 

Later…..i have gone back and back and back….responding to responses…..what i

intend

to do,  each day

as i've said many times….i read comments as they arrive.  ALWAYS.   but then…..i savor them.   think about them.  Feel them.  and always

i think…at the end of the day i will respond.

but sometimes i have the excuse that the battery is low or that typepad does not allow    and those are true

but often it's because………i 'm   just     uhhh   not ready.   The comments need to marinate.      But then,  as today,   it becomes too long and i try to go back,    sometimes to particular things,   and i can't find them anymore…too much time has passed.   or,  typepad quits letting me.        So to say.    again.     I will try.    Because each comment i Feel.    …as direct.   You to me    and US.

 

her Heart is beating way too fast.       However you do……some kind of prayer