THIS DAY DESERVES A POEM

Shadows on the walk

This day deserves a poem.

The morning Fall, the midday heat, the evening rain.

My dog lies no more at my feet.

His fourscore year and ten is past, he breathed his last.

I held him as we do. 

Thank God I only lost a dog this year.

Thank God not him or her or we or them or us or you. 

Thank God for losses we can bear, 

Pretending life is not unfair, 

Forgetting other years. 

I swim and savor,

Knit and natter,

Pray and ponder.

Friendships strengthen.

Nights will lengthen soon. 

This life, this loss, our fears, these years, 

Our times, our hearts, the shadows on the walk.

The gifts we give, the ones we take, 

They all deserve a poem.

If only I could give them one. 

THE EVERYDY TO-DO LIST

End-of-Day, Bogue Sound, NC

Be kind

Find gratitude

Live today, not yesterday

Do something to make yourself happy

Stay close to God

Look for contentment

Do all things with love

Take care of yourself and others

Be open

Be mindful

Concentrate, pray, smile

Go outside, appreciate

Hug, laugh, savor

Trust, believe

Work hard

. . . . . .

MR. WIGGLES. A FINE BOY.

This is the first week without our brave Maltipoo since a summer day in 2013.  That was the day I drove from Durham to the beach, stopping in each shelter along the way, looking for just the right rescue pup for our family.  Our granddaughter needed a small dog, one she could carry.  My husband and I needed a dog who wouldn't follow its nose and run away from our unfenced property in the woods (like our lovely beagle Missy from years past). 

I was still missing Lucy, our goldendoodle who lived with us for 14 years until we took her to the vet to ease her from life into death.  Lucy had been abused and wouldn't come into the house.  We filled her doghouse with blankets and set it on the front deck.  We covered it with a tarp in winter, heating her kibble with water to warm her tummy.  She never ran away.  When I went outside, there was Lucy.  When I rested from yard work, there was Lucy.  When we got home, there was Lucy.  When the grandchildren played, there was Lucy. 

Now it was Mr. Wiggles' turn.  I found him in foster care at the beach.  The foster care mom said, "He follows me everywhere."  That's what he does, I discovered.  He chooses someone to love and follow.  I chose him and he chose me. 

Mr. Wiggles already had his name.  The first night he cried a little.  But not the second or third.  By then he had decided to love and trust me.  We drove home from the beach, and he met the rest of the family, the others who would do for him all the things he couldn't do for himself:  open doors, fill his bowl, hand him treats, lift him onto cushions he couldn't reach, rub his belly . . . .  He must have been 3 or 4 when I "rescued" him. 

Wiggles never weighted more than 10 pounds.  In his prime, Wiggie could rout a herd of deer, stand down a rat snake, chase (but not catch) a lizard, ignore a goose or German shepherd, and greet another small dog with glee.

Not 3 months before death

Wigs was all black until gray began appearing under his chin.  As he slowed down these last months, he stuck even closer to us, under our chair, under our feet.  A six-year-old niece came, and he stayed in his bed, declining to play.  His yellow ducky lay untouched.  Even treats took persuasion.  We let all the rules lapse.  My husband gave him bites of his burger.  We fed him early and often.  We tried to anticipate his needs since stress triggered his collapsing trachea.  

The vet started talking about compassionate euthanasia, readying us for its eventuality.  Every time I brought him in, nothing could be done.  He was blind in one eye, yet handsome as usual.  I made one appointment and, on the day, canceled it.  When all the signs were there, I wrapped him in his Christmas blanket and took him in.  He didn't react to the other dogs in the waiting room.  He stayed still in my arms, the boy who had been named Mr. Wiggles for a reason. I spent a long time holding him and giving thanks for the love he had shown us.  I told him, "This is for you."  "We are doing this for you, sweet boy."  He breathed contentedly.  

I am grateful for the animals we have had in our lives, since my first dog, Heidi, a cocker spaniel I received for my 5th birthday.  Years later, our daughter brought home a cat-free-to-a-good-home from preschool that she named Kitty Little. We had a bloodhound, Juniper, who was hit by a car.  When he left for law school, our son bequeathed us a cat who lived a long life. 

I texted our grandson about Wiggles' death.  He replied, "Poor Mr. W.  I remember him valiantly trying to protect us from a rat snake.  He was nothing if not a good boy."  

PRAYER FOR HIGH SUMMER

Dear Lord, 

You have given us another summer to remember.  You have given us warmth and rain and high seas.  The summer moon, the long days and late evenings.  You have sustained us again for another season, another year of our lives.  We thank You.  

We have feasted on Your bounty:  tomatoes, peaches and figs; strawberries and corn; lemons and oranges; greens of all shapes and flavors. We have filled our gardens with Your flowers, begonias, lantana, roses and grasses.  We have filled our hearts with their fragrance, our muscles with their tending, the earth with our care.  

We have been fortified by Your sunshine, waking in daylight and waiting for dark.  Each long day has been, is still, a gift.  If we haven't vacationed, we have memories of other summers, other years.  If we've stepped away from our jobs, our routines, thank You for the parts of Your world we have visited:  shore or mountain, city or town.  Thank You for our homes, that seem lighter in summer; our bodies that seem freer when bare.  Thank you for the summer memories our children create; they echo our own. 

If we can hike, we have.  If we can swim, we have.  If we can cook, we have.  If we can smile (and we can), we have. 

Thank You Lord for the summer of 2024.  Let us always remember:  You are the medicine.

Thanks be to God.  AMEN

THE SHORE IS WIDE AND SWEET

"The shore is wide and sweet." 

"We aren't born with low self-esteem and ruminating thoughts."  I read that sentence today.  Wow.  What else are we not born with?  We're not born with negative thoughts about others.  Thinking others are different or less than we.  Wanting to make fun of someone.  Or to intentionally harm or belittle someone.  We might especially notice this during this political season.  Some people bring joy, some bring fear.  Some uplift, some try to degrade.  Some make us feel kind, some make us feel mean-hearted.   

Many of our unhelpful traits are learned by observation or by comments we absorb.  A neuroscientist, Nicole Vignola who wrote Rewire, says that neurons communicate information in the brain and that the more we repeat something, the stronger that neural pathway becomes.  For good or for ill, we might mention.  In mental illness, a lie repeated to oneself, replaces the truth.  In healing, the more we feel understood, the more we know we are loved. 

The other day I felt a little down.  I am worried about a health problem in the family, although it is treatable. The decision about treating it isn't mine.  Lord, we need Your presence.  Give us wisdom.  

Separately, my husband is recovering from surgery, and I was looking forward to a break from caregiving to go to my favorite bookstore, but it didn't happen.  

These are ordinary problems, right?  Nothing catastrophic, at least not yet.  Worry, cabin fever, fatigue and yet gratitude:  the problem is treatable; the recovery is going smoothly.  Still, common to feel down from time to time.  

What do you do when you feel that way?  Live with the feeling, I remind myself.  That's a neural pathway to cultivate.  Feel the sadness in my breathing, my still face, my slowed mind.  Let it be.  Don't fight with myself.  Write, as I am doing now.  Frame the thoughts, the feelings.  Set them free so they don't circle.  Let the loop straighten.  As with any bad thoughts, don't wallow.  Thoughts and feelings come and go.  That's what they do.  

Plan something good for when the time is right.  I have a lovely neural pathway that leads straight to the beach.  Missing the beach must be a metaphor.  In North Carolina every family has their favorite beach where the rhythm of the waves carries good days and hope.  It's not just sand between the toes and body surfing.  It's a space where it's hard to feel sad.  I hope to go soon.  

Not this week or next, or even next month, but soon.  We'll go perhaps when the air turns cool, and the shore is wide and sweet.  How vivid this is in my mind, where sadness has receded with the outgoing tide.  Wide sky, waves near and far, salty air and shore birds skittering or probing with long legs and beaks.  The beauty of the eternal where our health, vitality and happiness grow.

So what are we born with?  The neuro plasticity to make our hearts sing?  I think an unformed prayer has been answered today.  Thank you, Lord.  

                                                                                             Nina Naomi

SIMPLE INSIGHTS

Follow your Heart

• While distractions waste energy, concentration restores energy.  Distractions leave us frazzled but concentration is calming.  Concentration is whole-hearted.  It restores us.  The qualities of concentration are presence, calm observation, willingness to start over, and gentleness.  These qualities help us at work and at home.  Never are they depleting.  

• Anger contains other emotions, like sadness, fear, disappointment or regret.  We need to tackle the underlying emotion.  Why are you angry at your child?  Is it because you fear for her safety?  Why are you angry at yourself?  Do you regret something you said or failed to say?  Why are you angry at your friend or partner?  Did they disappoint you?  And isn't it easier to address each of these without the anger?  Experts say that it is. 

• Accomplishments should increase our peace of mind, but too often don't. Often the first question we're asked after an accomplishment is, "what's next?"  Let's work to "rest on our laurels" for the moment and savor what we achieve.  Let's work to be happy with ourselves and our accomplishments.  Let's stretch that happiness.  We can strive without always having to reach a new goal.  We can revise or even abandon our goals.  Peace of mind in what we have accomplished will then follow.    

• Possessions bring only temporary satisfaction. Has this ever failed to be true for you?  I don't mean your home, where you retreat from the world.  Or your grandfather's watch or your mother's earrings.  But things.  If we remember this, we will save money, effort and time, all more valuable than things.  

• Meditation creates a sense of ease within and can help us withstand sorrow and loss.  Prayer and meditation bring us in close to ourselves, to a comforting place where sorrow can reside peaceably, where loss can be cradled. My meditation mantra is "Help, save, comfort and defend me, Gracious Lord."  Amazingly, it does help.  I have been saved and comforted when I thought that all was lost. This is an assurance for the future as well.  

• We can't decree what emotions will arise, only our responses to them. Every emotion should be recognized, named and accepted.  Feelings aren't bad.  Sometimes we are unhappy, with or without reason.  We can live with that.  If we couldn't live with sadness, change, loss or death, how could we possibly survive day to day, year to year?  Our emotions deserve our respect and tenderness.  

• Meditation teaches us how to begin again, and again.  Prayer too.  Prayer never tires us.  There is always more for which to pray.  Let's not exhaust ourselves running away from difficult thoughts, keeping them hidden or criticizing ourselves for having them.  Always to yourself be kind.  When we can forgive ourselves we can forgive others.  In that way we imitate God. 

In love, Nina Naomi

CREATE AND RECHARGE

Many of us recharge by doing something creative.  I have the nicest craft table that sits before a large window overlooking the courtyard and woods. It's just a metal table, not fancy, and it hugs the corner of our breakfast room.  When it overflows, I usurp the top of the buffet.  Sometimes I take over the old teak dining table as well, when I need to spread out folders and reorganize photos, pictures, ribbon, tools, etc., when seasons have mixed and Christmas is jumbled with spring. 

So many of us are creative in a sort of homey way.  Maybe we share, or sell, or maybe we just do and enjoy.  I am the latter.  My collage journals are for me; no one else would understand them.  Although I just showed my granddaughter her birthday page, my grandson his bon voyage page as he heads off to Scotland.  And I showed my husband our anniversary page and the one for our son who died many years ago.  I include my verse, sayings, textures and glitter.  You know.  

Then I found advice from creative women in Stampington, my favorite publisher.    

• Fill your creative space with style and things of your heart. 
• You are always two or three layers away from wonderful. 
• Have a recharging station that consists of a journal and some basic craft supplies.
• Every time you put a little piece of "you" into what you're creating, you connect with yourself in a way that only you can. 
• A change of scenery can spark inspiration.
• What we need:  simplicity of form, inspiring music and good light.
• Leave out your creations.  Being able to see what you have been creating is healing and provides a point to build upon.
• Let the things you add to your creation mean something, even if you're the only one who is aware of their meaning.
• Stepping away from a project and just gathering can make us creative. 
• Living an artful life--whatever that means for you--is essential to our spirit.  Travel, visiting museums, photography, writing, building, interior design and decorating, making . . . .

More to come.  All the Stampington publications are wonderful. I cut out pictures and words.  Also, The Simple Things and art magazines.  I cut up old poetry books, copies of Shakespeare's work, old Bibles.  All become part of my collaging.  

Let's have fun creating.                                 Nina Naomi