Lightly Child, Lightly.

Recently, I read a book about hard decisions at the late stages of life that moved me: Don DeLillo’s Zero K. In one passage that has stayed with me, a character reflects on the small, beautiful elements that make up a life. She describes a shower to her stepson: “I think about drops of water,” she says. “I think about drops of water. How I used to stand in the shower and watch a drop of water edge down the inside of the sheer curtain. How I concentrated on the drop, the droplet, the orblet, and waited for it to assume new shapes as it passed along the ridges and folds, with water pounding against the side of my head.

Lora Kelley, P.S., The Atlantic Daily Newsletter (July 20, 2023)


Notes:

  • Special Note. Friends, my apologies for the blog malfunctions in the past week, 99% were self inflicted wounds that I’m still working to resolve. I have lost my posts for the past week and a half along with all of your wonderful comments. My apologies. Thank you for your patience. (And given my state of mind in this repair progress, all maddening because it could have all been avoided, I thought this post was particularly timely for me. A big shout out to the WordPress staff for their patience, guidance and support.
  • Post Title & Inspiration: Aldous Huxley: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.

Wally’s Great Adventures (65 – VOLUME UP – Help Me!)

Hello friends. Wally here. I had my first ever bath. No more words. Horror! Help Me! Have a Great Easter.

All-Clean Wally.

Miracle. All of it.


Notes:

  • Photographer Megan Loeks made this photograph during bath time that was joined by a curious feline onlooker. (National Geographic, August 2, 2019)
  • Post Inspired by: Sometimes, in the afternoons, I would get into bed with her for a nap, and she would lie beside me drinking her bottle, her eyes fixed in fascination on my body. A preliminary wave of sleep would roll warmly over us. I could feel us falling together through the bright constellations of our thoughts. Even as I crossed the line into sleep I felt her cross it too; I felt her go to sleep just as when I was a child I used to feel snow falling outside my window. Later I would open my eyes to find her sleeping head on my stomach, her body curled as if in homecoming around my side, and I would lie very still, knowing that if I moved she would wake.~ Rachel Cusk, ”A Life’s Work: On Becoming a Mother
  • Post title Inspired by Albert Einstein’s quote: “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”

It’s been a long day

the hour sinking into the emptiness of my

closed eyes

— Alejandra Pizarnik, from “the hour sinking,” The Galloping Hour: French Poems


Notes:

Monday Morning: I want to be the world, freshly washed.

Inside the body of the world
there lives a vine
that awakens
in footprints and rootprints,

that touches our suffering

that heals the broken earth

that intertwines our pulses

until our breaths carry a new seed

within them.

While we sleep rain saturates the land
and in the morning
a luminescence
tunnels through fog.

I want to be the world, freshly washed.

~ Karissa Knox Sorrell, from “Luminescence,” Gravel Magazine


Notes: Poem – Memory’s Landscape. Photo: wsj.com, May 17, 2018, Rodrigo Garrido