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October 2009 
november.
Posted on Nov 14th, 2008
by 
Siona
Siona
I, along with countless others who live along the Front Range, woke up to snow this morning. At last!
It was one of those beautiful Colorado transitions from autumn to winter, too: yesterday had been Indian-summer balmy, but then the full moon rose last night (so full, too, and huge on the horizon as I was driving home) and it was as though the magic of that icy bubble chilled the world.
There was something else that felt poetic about the timing—at least for me. I'd spent a large part of yesterday evening in the lobby of a modest rest home at the border-edges of Boulder. Such a parade of humanity wove in and out through the hours: a few grey-haired children came to visit parents who seemed to no longer remember their names; a woman was wheeled in on a gurney asking, with near teary-eyed concern, "Do I know you? Do you know who I am?"; a man sat facing a wall, interrupting his meditation only to cross himself every few minutes; a cheerful gathering of elderly women wandered by on their way to the dining hall twittering exuberantly about President-Elect Obama; and of course the nurses and caregivers with their inimitable seen-it-all calm. It was such an opportunity for contemplation, those hours, and it was driving home later that night that I noticed the brittle wholeness of the moon, and the chill in the air, and then winter.
I'm not sure how to resolve this little meditation--is it a reflection on the cycle of seasons, or a meditation on the inevitability of ends? I think I'll not answer that. I think I'll say it's both. I think I'll try to practice holding that.
*
But what about what's ahead?
This weekend I have plans to visit the new perfumerie of a nearly-as-new friend. This weekend I have plans to gather with a few neighbors for a movie or two and a bottle of wine. This weekend I have plans to write more letters (I've been on a bit of a tear with these; it's been a treat writing with actual paper and ink and there's something sweet about not feeling the immediacy of the e-versions). This weekend I have plans to read, and to nest, and to connect.. and of course I'm leaving parts of it open, in case this weekend has plans for me.
*
It's amazing to me that I've been here, in Boulder, in my little house, for over a year already. In some ways it feels like yesterday that I moved in, and in others, as though this has always been home. But perhaps this is just another example of what bubbled up above. Perhaps it's both. I think I'll try to practice holding that.
Access: Public
suppose to snow in the northeast on monday or tuesday
It sounds wonderful my friend. You have a poetic voice that runs throughout your writing, and it evokes images easily, but most of what I liked is that is was you. You are a busy lady I am sure, and the time for blogging is not in ready abundance. However it was delightful to hear about a bit of your life. Thanks for Sharing. Hugs Michael.
This blog was the first thing I read this morning. Thank you for such a peaceful peek into your day. I enjoyed going on your poetic journey
Visiting a nursing home is a wonderful exercise and lesson. I used to think it was just a place that warehoused people till they died. But when my Dad went to one, I discovered a whole cast of characters living their lives as best they could where they were, with what they had. Every person had their story and their need for human contact. Every day is a gift for all of us.
I love any blog that mentions Indian summer, moon, snow, house, wine, meditation, Obama. Also glad to hear that you have found home where you are.
(((hugs)))
Ah, the poetic prose with which you write is stunning. It is sunny and warm, and beautiful in its calmness. It doesn't feel rushed or like it was not from the heart. It's wonderful, truly. I love it :D
Ditto all the above. You put me there, each place you were, inner and outer.
Wishing you the serenity of it all, and the passion which is without any tinge of fear, that just bubbles up from life itself.
Hugs and infinite gratitude for YOU in the world and our lives,
OM Bastet
Ah Siona… nothing like a gaze into those beautiful eyes and a read into your beautiful soul to enliven me on this day.
Namaste
:-)
There is beauty when we find our home here on this earth. All of those experiences coming together & the plans that you have made sound comforting. The bigger picture resonates here. How peaceful. : )
Love & light.
Do you write poetry? Michael is right you do have a poetic voice, fresh snow is sooo beautiful. it's still quite mild here, I saw a honey bee in the garden today and I spoke with a friend here worried because her tortoise shows no sign of hibernating.
I love the way you write it is so gentle , and calm, and very poetic.
We also woke to a gray day , and the streets were covered with fresh snow.
The winter settles in , and is a long cold 6 months of winter.
For me I look at it that it clears my mind , and make me think of fresh new things , and ideas.I love to see the hoar frost, and enjoy going out and taking picture of the winter wonderland , the snow sparkles , and glistens each year new magic arrives.
Thanks for the blog , and the warmth that you create too.
Love, and hugs.
Lori
Here is something I wrote well I was looking out my windows , and the Hoar frost was so stunning.
HOAR FROST
The hoar frost paints a lovely picture
Grasping onto the trees ever
So delicately
Hi Siona, Being in a place where there is no snow [Miami], I am enjoying the cool from my cozy spring-like surroundings.
Having parents who are close to needing nursing care and who live far from me, I feel a message in your writing.
And as all have said, your writing is poetic, it is evocative, it is gentle and mellow. It reveals even more a person who knows how to relax and be present in the moment…and I hope will find wonderful surprises on her return to a work-week!
Nightphoenix: Did it? It's been clear here since our first little dusting… a strangely, strangely long fall.
mimi: Oh, I'm so honored. And I had precisely the same shift occur around rest homes. Before I experienced them myself I had this vague and unpleasant assumption about how depressing and hopeless they were, but I've since come to realize that each are home to their own sweet and unique communities, and that transformation and change and shifts can and do occur up to the very end. Life is never paused until it stops.
And your little summary made me grin.
Wesley and OM and Nishtha and Daydreamer and Zephyr and Meenakshi and all: Thank you. I LOVE language. I love language in part because when I write I feel possessed by it, seized by this extraordinary meaning-making meanderment that I feel only instrumental in revealing, and I love the ability of words to cast a mood or change a scene or create connections that weren't previously there, and I love getting to sit down in front of a screen and see what pours out. I only wish I made the time to do it more, here, in this fashion, so thank you for the encouragement.
alas the forcast was wrong
My Girl Scout troop is going to do an adpot a grandparent program sometime soon and reading your post makes me anxious to get them started. We are waiting though for my co-leader to return from her familly leave she is on since she is the one who is supposed to introduce us to the home we will be going to. The girls have two year to complete the project we are working on for the silver award and the adopt a grandparent program is a one year program, so we have time. Hopefully the girls grow through their experience and want to continue visiting the home after their one year commitment is up.
there are so many people in nursing homes who don't get any visitors. None! So the adopt and grandparent program sounds so wonderful. The girls will learn a lot from the wise ones just by listening. People just need a touch, someone to look at them, listen to a story, smile, acknowledge them. The grandparents will be adopting the girls too ;>)
treniff, I hope you will tell us some stories about the girls and the program.