Good days and bad days
I collect mantras
Likes some people
From their beach walks
Today was a bad day
I change my mantra to:
Bring out the Naz mojo
Don’t hide it, if it’s gone hiding
Find it. It’s a strange disease
Stranger still are the side effects from the meds
no filter and no self control creates chaos
The naz mojo needs to channel her
efforts to the right place.
Now I am partially stuck
Have misplaced many things
My ray bans, a book
My favourite umbrella.
my mantra reads
This too shall pass.
Yes, it will. Pass.
As all things do
I will miss the wedding
I miss my family and friends
I miss myself before I became afflicted.
So I will sit when I can.
Meanwhile my hip and ball joint
Are very painful.
my symptoms read
As if I were 92–
Too many meds
story last night
makes me glad I am not dead
but, will the end be horrible enough
for me to want to take my own life?
I have heard enough bad stories
Of the final stages with this disease.
Football players that were so stiff
They had to be lifted to the bathroom
And held under the shower.
Like blocks of ice, or the cadavers that they were
No one speaks of the end
It’s the usual aren’t you lucky it’s not MS?
Or cancer. Yes, I am lucky but not for those
Reasons. I am lucky because I have family, friends
And a good support system and an ability
To laugh. But, this is serious.
My last mantra reads
stays. Hope is
Everything. And Love.
And a remarkable foot massage.
It was the party to end all years—
WE thought the world would come crashing down
(so we were led to believe)
Colombo, Phuket, Shanghai, New York- name your place.
Fireworks was kept alight by Dominic:
Catherine Wheels, Rockets, Golden Showers, Roman Candles, Dynamite;
The skies glowing; the beauty and debris falling to earth—psychedelic.
I chewed on a piece of beef curry waiting for the world to end
keeping an eye on the tables laden with food.
Kolu had prepared the food—enough for everyone.
There was an array of curries, sambals, rice, short eats, —
my favourite—beef pan rolls with mayonnaise.
( A la Lakshman Joseph de Saram.)
Roast Chicken, Roast Lamb, delicious grilled veggies and
organic salads to live for …
Sydney’s firework had come and gone—
the party kept going and the
music sounded like a cross between the Allman Brothers and Prince.
the piece of beef curry still in my mouth,
I swallowed. And
you know what? It stuck–
In my larynx or trachea– I could not breathe.
Not a wisp of air could I feel going down into my lungs.
For a -second I panicked, I started to choke,
Tilak and co. turned to look at me with interest
The piece of beef was stuck tight in my trachea.
Do something you fools?
Can’t you see that I am choking?
They kept staring and
looked to me like open mouthed Gorupa’s.
That’s It, I thought. There was no way
I was going to die on a piece of beef stuck in my windpipe.
I turned my left hand into a fist
fixed it squarely on my solar plexus between my ribs,
and with my right hand pushed the fist into my body
whilst blowing out a big huge sound that sounded like WHA!
The piece of beef shot out of my mouth and
flew like a rocket landing in a bush some 30 ft. away.
“FAR OUT”! said Tilak looking at me with admiration.
My throat was too sore to reply.
“So much better than waiting for the end of the world”
Y2K, my foot.
We decided to go to The World’s End Club.
Happy New Millennium.
( 19 years hence)
Dom’s hands fascinate
the way he turns his lens on his camera
i am mesmerised. look here, he says.
i look straight into the lens, still, his hands distract.
his fingers, strong and well proportioned.
his nails groomed.
His hands can perform a variety of tasks well.
People stare at his hands.
His lines on his hands neat and deeply etched
an evolved old soul.
Speak of a life that is good, productive, successful.
fingers strong and well proportioned.
nails are groomed.
his hands don’t look old —they tell a story.
people notice his hands. His hands hold us close.
they have held me for 24 years.
to the man with the magical touch
and fascinating hands.
N.S. With love Feb.14, 2019.
mountains high 6000 meters
rise above, cycling is tough
for a wild rose.
Go deep, deeper. As deep as you’ve ever imagine
The rawness from you bursting forth
a ripe open mangosteen
purple juice staining your lips, darkening your tongue
Truth lies inside. Lies does too, lies stays for long
Anxiety meets shadow side
welcome and accepted. and it’s only then
Truth comes out to play. truth is gospel.
It’s Bach at its finest-
quick, brilliant, uninterrupted
The piano playing like it’s in love
after a long time the pain is excellent
The dance is in rhythm and to time
You’re in love and may have lost him?
Why am I laughing into the wind? It carries me
over the sea and dumps me at Dead Man’s Cove.
Under the tamarind trees where I meet a man in a speedo
And Bathing cap. I am guessing he hardly has any hair.
I swim out there. In the bluest sea I have ever seen
I look down at the clear water and make out the sand.
This is where I find my ring. Unbelievable. My wedding ring.
We thought the monkeys had taken off with the loot and vanished.
My love! Here, now. Appeared over the hill and swam to me
we celebrate and say our vows on the spot.
Walk as husband and wife to the beach
Sit on the deck chairs and drink gin and tonics.
I really get you, yes–as you do me. Present tense. I know books don’t solve anything, but one is coming my way that will be coming your way in the next month. I can’t imagine the undulating fear that must move through, the lack of recognition in becoming someone with a condition that affects the vehicle through which you’ve expressed your power and joy in life; the locus of your confidence in a world you have sometimes perceived as dominated by grammar and syntax. The challenge will be to love your body even in this, to see its perfection even in this, to trust the lessons it has for you even in this, to hold its sacred nature even in this. That’s a big order. To meet your resistance to what is happening and to wrestle with that resistance, to meet it, not to win over it, not to win or overcome, not know what’s on the other side of meeting it, to trust that in the brave act of meeting it, of feeling what arises on meeting it, this is what you are meant to do. You are not your body, yet your body is what you have as a tool to work with your mind in this life. I don’t know how strong you are or whether strength is what’s needed now, but I know you are brave. I know you know surrender, that bravest of brave acts. I know you know surrender is not the same thing as giving up. I know you know you are loved. The unknown comes to us all, introduces itself differently at each stage in our lives. I wish I could take away all fear, all pain. Knowing that I can’t, please know that I have faith in who you have become in and because of your life, and hold you in my heart at every moment. I have to go to Copenhagen for the week–it’s going to be very crazy. Still, you are with me always and I send you love xoxox
is the first day of the rest of my life and I live this mantra as I am fed up of
focussing on the condition:
I release all nervous energy in me and harness it to create a positive mindset. So be it and so it is.
who cares if i can’t move for one hour, two, three hours? yes, it’s inconvenient, but who the F cares? I certainly don’t. not from today on. I suspect most of my friends and family don’t either.” We all have better things to do and think about. So be it and so it is.”
Thinking of all who are suffering today and sending them loving kindness and abundant blessings. So be it and so it is.
Thinking of everyone who has helped me in big and small ways, in thought deed and kind. So very grateful to all of you, so much love and blessings. My heart is filled with immense gratitude. So be it and so it is.
Thinking of humanity at large and hoping and wishing for sanity, love and peace.
Let’s look after each other and our environment. It’s a beautiful world. And we are so lucky to be of it. So be it and so it is.
God Bless All.