Meredith Kendall's Blog, page 34
May 17, 2015
Blossoms, birds, and bees.
Where did it all come from ?
Just a few weeks ago my backyard was a frozen Arctic wasteland. Spring happened, life exploded, and it's all color, noise, and biodiversity. There's a huge hot pink bouquet of blossom, commonly called crab-apple tree, and it's so full of buzzing bumblebees that I feel the buzzing and bumbling in my bones when I stand beneath the branches, which are loaded with bees and blossoms.
The lilac is blooming too, keeping a hummingbird busy sipping nectar and hosting a home-building cardinal couple.
The crab-apple, lilac, and cherry blossoms scent the backyard stronger than your mall soap shop.
Also fragrantly blooming are lilies of the valley, narcissus, and creeping phlox. Less perfumey are violets, bleeding hearts, and dandelion.
Meanwhile it's a cacophony, a jungle of sound, as birds ghetto-blast their songs: cardinals, robins, chickadees, sparrows, and nuthatches. I filled the birdbath and crab-apple petals drifted down onto the surface of the water, so they get a flower petal bath.
Monkeys. It's gone from Arctic to jungle. Just missing the monkeys.
Just a few weeks ago my backyard was a frozen Arctic wasteland. Spring happened, life exploded, and it's all color, noise, and biodiversity. There's a huge hot pink bouquet of blossom, commonly called crab-apple tree, and it's so full of buzzing bumblebees that I feel the buzzing and bumbling in my bones when I stand beneath the branches, which are loaded with bees and blossoms.
The lilac is blooming too, keeping a hummingbird busy sipping nectar and hosting a home-building cardinal couple.
The crab-apple, lilac, and cherry blossoms scent the backyard stronger than your mall soap shop.
Also fragrantly blooming are lilies of the valley, narcissus, and creeping phlox. Less perfumey are violets, bleeding hearts, and dandelion.
Meanwhile it's a cacophony, a jungle of sound, as birds ghetto-blast their songs: cardinals, robins, chickadees, sparrows, and nuthatches. I filled the birdbath and crab-apple petals drifted down onto the surface of the water, so they get a flower petal bath.
Monkeys. It's gone from Arctic to jungle. Just missing the monkeys.
repetition
All the things worth doing are things you must do over and over again.
Love, forgiveness, Reiki. You don't do it once and bang done. It's the repetition that makes a life worth living.
Love, forgiveness, Reiki. You don't do it once and bang done. It's the repetition that makes a life worth living.
May 16, 2015
neighbor drama trauma
Last night the ones out back had a backyard bonfire and huge fight. Windows open to chill spring air I could hear them yelling, swearing, and accusing each other of infidelity. Their house is for sale. They've been cleaning up and clearing out.
The neighbors across the street in front are ill and elderly. Their children stop by several times a day to care for them: yard work, groceries, etc. The couple takes turns in the hospital; he's there now.
The lady to the side has a new van. She works nights and walks with a cane.
They tore down a house, down the street. I never noticed the work, but noticed it's gone now, just grass.
The neighbors across the street in front are ill and elderly. Their children stop by several times a day to care for them: yard work, groceries, etc. The couple takes turns in the hospital; he's there now.
The lady to the side has a new van. She works nights and walks with a cane.
They tore down a house, down the street. I never noticed the work, but noticed it's gone now, just grass.
teenage weirdo
Remember how bad it used to be? How you felt like the weird one: the dork, unpopular, ugly, stupid. Those teen years: high school.
A morning radio show, question of the day: What made you the weird one in high school? So many calls. All these average, self-deprecating, ironic, insightful, now fine people shared their traumas. "I wore thick glasses." "My mom made me wear purple pants." "I had a horrible haircut." "My dad was a pathologist." "I was short, tall, lonely, poor, glasses, weird clothes, weird haircut..." on and on. Everyone had a story.
I listened and thought: Well, that's not so bad. Glasses? You suffered from glasses? Now I was weird. I was shy and read thick books at recess: War and Peace, Anna Karenina, the complete collection of Sherlock Holmes. Sometimes I read during class too, and got into trouble. I wore odd hand-me-down clothes. That's suffering.
Or is it?
I listened to the people on the radio as they told their stories. Their stories sounded like nothing, just amusing anecdotes, but I remembered how it felt, to be a teen, in high school. It was horrible, excruciating, torturous. I was desperately unhappy then; wanted to run away, escape, die. I suffered.
But really, what was so bad? And what would have made it better?
Maybe Sherlock Holmes got me through it. He was a loner too. He used his intellect to make order from chaos and tragedy. How nice to sit by the fire at Baker St with Dr. Watson, and have Mrs. Hudson bring tea as we discussed the latest puzzle. And life lessons from Anna Karenina: things not to do. What's better: money, safety, comfort, and boredom or wild crazy love which ruins you both in the end? I escaped into books, somehow survived, discovered the good bits, life got better.
Still a dork, still escape into books; but now fine.
A morning radio show, question of the day: What made you the weird one in high school? So many calls. All these average, self-deprecating, ironic, insightful, now fine people shared their traumas. "I wore thick glasses." "My mom made me wear purple pants." "I had a horrible haircut." "My dad was a pathologist." "I was short, tall, lonely, poor, glasses, weird clothes, weird haircut..." on and on. Everyone had a story.
I listened and thought: Well, that's not so bad. Glasses? You suffered from glasses? Now I was weird. I was shy and read thick books at recess: War and Peace, Anna Karenina, the complete collection of Sherlock Holmes. Sometimes I read during class too, and got into trouble. I wore odd hand-me-down clothes. That's suffering.
Or is it?
I listened to the people on the radio as they told their stories. Their stories sounded like nothing, just amusing anecdotes, but I remembered how it felt, to be a teen, in high school. It was horrible, excruciating, torturous. I was desperately unhappy then; wanted to run away, escape, die. I suffered.
But really, what was so bad? And what would have made it better?
Maybe Sherlock Holmes got me through it. He was a loner too. He used his intellect to make order from chaos and tragedy. How nice to sit by the fire at Baker St with Dr. Watson, and have Mrs. Hudson bring tea as we discussed the latest puzzle. And life lessons from Anna Karenina: things not to do. What's better: money, safety, comfort, and boredom or wild crazy love which ruins you both in the end? I escaped into books, somehow survived, discovered the good bits, life got better.
Still a dork, still escape into books; but now fine.
May 15, 2015
built like a teapot
She was built like a teapot, with delicate wrists and ankles.
"I'll just have another," she announced, snagging a pastry from the top of the pile. "I don't usually treat myself."
"I'll just have another," she announced, snagging a pastry from the top of the pile. "I don't usually treat myself."
May 14, 2015
buzzing
Sitting under an enormous blooming crabapple tree. So many blossoms, so sweetly fragrant. Loaded with buzzing bumblebees.
May 11, 2015
the line
"Where is the line between Reiki and Christianity?" a student asked me today.
It was the first meeting of our 8-week summer Reiki class.
"The line?" I responded, "There is no line."
I think we both felt confused.
"Use your religious faith when you practice Reiki. Access your faith, use it. One can believe in any religion and still practice Reiki. Reiki is not a religion, it's a spiritual practice. We accept people of all faiths, or no faith. You can be Reiki, share Reiki, and pray. Pray to whomever you wish. Just be. There is no line," I continued, hoping this made sense.
It was the first meeting of our 8-week summer Reiki class.
"The line?" I responded, "There is no line."
I think we both felt confused.
"Use your religious faith when you practice Reiki. Access your faith, use it. One can believe in any religion and still practice Reiki. Reiki is not a religion, it's a spiritual practice. We accept people of all faiths, or no faith. You can be Reiki, share Reiki, and pray. Pray to whomever you wish. Just be. There is no line," I continued, hoping this made sense.
May 5, 2015
Max
Max is dying.
He's shockingly thin, and tumors bulge. He's too weak to stand. He seems comfortable though, and his eyes are still clear. He drank some water.
I shared Reiki with him today.
Max, the first time I met him, bit me precisely, neatly, and quickly on my labia. Twice. I was startled, of course, and afraid of him for months. But we made peace and I loved him.
After the bites I brought him biscuits, and offered them fearfully into his jaws, his sharp white teeth. He liked to sit on my lap, as much of himself as he could get there, which was about a quarter. One haunch. He liked to be scratched in all the usual places.
Today I gently stroked his ears and belly, shared Reiki. Loved him. Said goodbye.
He's got two paws on the Rainbow Bridge.
He's shockingly thin, and tumors bulge. He's too weak to stand. He seems comfortable though, and his eyes are still clear. He drank some water.
I shared Reiki with him today.
Max, the first time I met him, bit me precisely, neatly, and quickly on my labia. Twice. I was startled, of course, and afraid of him for months. But we made peace and I loved him.
After the bites I brought him biscuits, and offered them fearfully into his jaws, his sharp white teeth. He liked to sit on my lap, as much of himself as he could get there, which was about a quarter. One haunch. He liked to be scratched in all the usual places.
Today I gently stroked his ears and belly, shared Reiki. Loved him. Said goodbye.
He's got two paws on the Rainbow Bridge.
morning lions
Ran into an old friend today. Said she lives in an apartment in town now, but used to live in a camp on Parker Pond. Mornings she'd take her coffee out to listen to - not the birds- she said, the lions. She sat by the pond with coffee and listened to the lions. Said she loved and misses those mornings. Julie Miner's lions, of DEW Haven.
April 16, 2015
spring sprang sprung
Smelling snow melting.
Smelling a job well done: clean laundry somersaulting in the dryer.
Feeling sun on my face.
Feeling cold breeze on my bare feet.
Seeing orange: sunlight through my eyelids.
Seeing blue sky.
Hearing wind chimes.
Hearing wind.
Tasting tangy chives.
The last of the chocolate Easter eggs.
Knowing it's spring.
Smelling a job well done: clean laundry somersaulting in the dryer.
Feeling sun on my face.
Feeling cold breeze on my bare feet.
Seeing orange: sunlight through my eyelids.
Seeing blue sky.
Hearing wind chimes.
Hearing wind.
Tasting tangy chives.
The last of the chocolate Easter eggs.
Knowing it's spring.
