SoCS: Wild Animals, Church Music, and Eagle Wings

Today’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “wild animal.” Choose a wild animal (or many wild animals) and use it any way you’d like in your post. Enjoy!

Wild animals are not necessarily wild to each other. People can act as wild as (other) animals sometimes. Elephants grieve the loss of their loved ones in ways that we can see. Whale mothers carry their dead babies for days or weeks, not wanting to let go. Dolphins, Chimpanzees, and birds have been seen using tools. Wolves use strategic pack coordination in hunting. What makes them wild and humans not wild?

You can read about the emotional lives of “wild” animals

HERE in Greater Good Magazine

Today, penguins have been on my mind. Our choir director used to call us penguins because we dressed out in black and white choir garb. He has a collection of stuffed penguins on the organ. Now, his body is becoming overwhelmed by cancer. He’s been moved to hospice. It’s real now.

Chris has been a big part of my life for years of Wednesday night choir practice. His strange sense of humor made practice interesting. When Mama Cat was living at the church in the pre-pandemic years, Chris was the main person to feed her. She had a reputation as being mean, like a wild animal, but she was really scared. Her first expression of affection to a human was to rub against Chris’s legs. During the pandemic, when we were not having church, Mama Cat came to live with me. She’s not wild anymore.

Since Chris has been sick, I’ve been picking most of the music for Sunday mornings and playing my guitar to lead the congregation in singing. We tried a couple of hymns acapella, but that is risky. My guitar skills are very basic and much softer than Chris’s organ playing, but the guitar helps us be on key as I find the confidence to sing loud and clear enough to lead the singing.

On Tuesday, after seeing the scripture readings, I emailed my suggestions for Sunday’s music. Our priest added a suggestion from the hymn book. I started to feel a little overwhelmed. Sometimes it’s hard to find the guitar chords for traditional hymns so I’ve been leaning toward more contemporary songs. Now, I’d have to look for the chords and see how hard they were. I started to respond in an email that I was feeling a little overwhelmed. But I got a nudge. I checked one of my songbooks with chords and found the hymn there. The chords were easy! No problem.

Yesterday, I was praying. I started by giving thanks for the blessings of my life. I suddenly realized that with all the blessings – David, retirement, security, and relatively good health – I realized that preparing and leading music at church for a while is the least I can do. This is a temporary situation. Life is temporary. I can do this ministry with love and gratitude.

Animals act wild when overwhelmed by fear or maybe hunger. They act on instinct to protect themselves. The same thing can happen with us humans. We get anxious or confused. I think, this is too much. It’s not going to work. My stomach tightens and not in a good way. But if I take a deep breath, pray, and get more information, things work out. I also want to remember that most things are not life and death situations, except when they really are.

Here are some old and new photos:

Feral Mama Cat

Domestic Mama Cat

Me with Penguin Friends

Our Good Shepherd Window

Light beam on church pew

Church windows reflecting sunset

I can’t get the “Eagles Wings” song chorus out of my head and that’s okay.

It goes like (this with God saying):

And I will raise you up on eagles wings,

Bear you on the breath of dawn,

Make you to shine like the sun,

And hold you in the palm of my hand.

Here’s our choir singing it a few years ago with Chris playing the organ.

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Update: Chris passed away this morning. I’m very sad, but thankful he did not suffer long.

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For more information about Stream of Consciousness Saturday

and more wild animal posts,

visit our host, Linda Hill

by clicking HERE.

SoCS: Heartbreak, Healing, Angels, and Goats

Today’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “heart.” Use it any way you like. Have fun!

I’m almost finished reading Glennon Doyle’s book, Untamed, which I think was recommended by Laura at https://riddlefromthemiddle.com/ (Correct me if I’m wrong, Laura.) It’s been a while since I am probably the slowest reader in bloglandia. The book has lots of gems about relationships with self and others and being true to ourselves. A couple nights ago, I read about purpose. She wrote that whatever breaks your heart, that is where your purpose lies. (I’m paraphrasing from memory.)

She listed my heartbreakers in her examples: animal cruelty and environment. This doesn’t mean I have to save every animal and the planet as I had hoped from the idealism of adolescence. Anything is possible, but we can at least do our part in our own little corner of the planet to heal what breaks our hearts.

If another person breaks our hearts, finding our bigger purpose helps along with crying and pampering ourselves. Small steps, small tasks of healing are okay. Because we have to take care of ourselves, too.

“Follow your heart but take your brain with you,” is a quote in my short book about finding a healthy relationship. (See sidebar) We need both heart and brain to make good decisions.

…

(I wrote the above yesterday afternoon, thinking maybe that was it for this SoCS. Good enough.)

A few hours later, I watched PBS news about the earthquake in Syria and Turkey that has killed many thousands of people. (23,000 people.) I watched a father crying, heartbroken, at the death of his child. He said they were used to missiles from planes – acts of war, but this was an act of God.

I don’t believe God would do this. But I don’t really know. Would God allow this to happen? An age-old question. There are heartbreaks we can do little about. But we can, at the very least, pray. Watching the father crying for his lost child, I wanted to put my arms around him and prayed for angels to hold him in his grief which cannot be removed, but maybe can be softened a tiny bit.

We have natural endorphins in our bodies that help reduce pain. Our physical pain would be worse without those natural endorphins that go away if replaced repeatedly with synthetic drugs/opiates which may then lead to withdrawal. Maybe if the angels didn’t hold us in our grief, the emotional pain would be worse. It’s bad enough that we have earthquakes and floods. Humans need to stop killing each other.

Sigh. What can we do? Our part is all. Do small things with great love, like Mother Teresa said. Be kind. Pray for the wounded and grieving. Thank the angels.

A painting I did several years ago

At Blueberry Lane Farm Animal Sanctuary, I don’t do much. Just cut up produce for Thursday lunch and feed it to the pigs and chickens. Then I go hang out with the old lady goats. This past week, I also went on Monday since some volunteers were out of town. Seeing me twice in one week, the old lady goats, Esther and Delilah, came to me on Thursday, wanting me to brush them and pet them, even after they knew I didn’t have any more carrots. Delilah has never done that before. So, I sat between them and brushed them and pet them which turned into giving them mini massages…. with great love.

I don’t know why this picture of Esther and Delilah got so small. I don’t remember cropping it.

Please click on the picture to see the sweet old goats.

goats

Sanctuary Angel at the Goat Barn

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For more about Stream of Consciousness Saturday,

visit our host with heart, Linda Hill

by clicking HERE.

SoCS: Trials, Losses, and How Do We Heal?

Our prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “trail/trial.” Use one, use both, use them any way you’d like. Bonus points if you use both. Have fun! ….

There’s a song I like, except maybe for a couple of lines, called “Blessings.” Which lines, I won’t go into. Never mind that. But the chorus goes:

“What if your blessings come through raindrops?

What if your healing comes through tears?

What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know you’re near?

What if trials in this life, are your mercies in disguise.”

It’s about how trials, disappointments, and challenges bring us closer to God. The song works well when applied to my divorce which, as I wrote about recently, turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

The problem now is that it does not seem to apply to the loss of a child. My heart and mind go to the parents who lost children to brutal, needless, senseless deaths by an 18-year-old who should never have been able to buy a gun and certainly not a weapon of war, in Texas.

I cannot imagine how those worst of trials can be a blessing. I don’t even know if the death of my sister, killed by a drunk driver on her 16th birthday, could have been a blessing to anyone, even with my parents’ dedicating the family room at the shelter in her memory. I don’t know how the loss of a child could be a blessing. Anything is possible, yes, but I would not say that to someone who has just lost a child. I would imagine the anger and overwhelming grief would be too much to even think of blessings, right now.

The husband of a teacher who was killed died from a heart attack – a broken heart – while preparing for his wife’s funeral. Joe and Irma Garcia had been married for 24 years. They had been high school sweethearts.

It’s so wrong. Wrong upon wrong, upon wrong, as we are finding out in the investigation.

Other countries have done better than the US when it comes to gun control and this type of murder. That’s for sure. There is a sickness in the heart of my country. (I just struck through “the heart of” because we have good hearts. Mostly.) Maybe we can recover from this sickness. Individual states have and can pass sensible gun laws. We can improve mental health services, address school dropout rates, etc., but I believe it’s going to take some kind of bigger shift. It’s complicated. Or maybe not.

I hope the investigations will lead to improvements. My hope is floundering a bit which is not typical. It will come as no surprise to most of my readers that I believe we need more balance between bad news and good news. That’s part of the sickness – a lack of balance.

Healing. How do we heal? Look for the good. Look for the true heroes, like teachers who continue to teach in schools, first responders who do what is necessary, leaders who have the courage to make changes for a more peaceful country, and a more peaceful world, parents who keep going after heartbreaking loss. Look for the heroes. Hold them up. Hold them in your heart. Keep them in your prayers. We can all do our part to nurture peace.

I know this is a rambling rant. Sometimes that’s what you get in the stream of consciousness. I confess I have gone back and edited a little. It was badly needed.

Maybe I should’ve written about hiking trails. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll put some in a gallery. There’s something coming to me about “The Peace of Wild Things” – a poem by Wendell Berry.

My granddaughter on the trail

Better duck

Trail on the right

Below are some of my most recent photos from the Farm Animal Sanctuary

Delilah on the porch

Esther the Elder

Simon with the Lady in Charge giving TLC

Simon has healed from a mysterious paralysis.

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For more streams of consciousness and rules, visit our host, Linda Hill by following this trail: https://lindaghill.com/2022/05/27/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-may-28-2022/

SoCS: Eyesight Declines as Hindsight Improves with Age

A true fortune

Today’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “clear.” Use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!

I like things to be clear. But sometimes we have to wait for the mud to settle. Clarity can take hours, weeks, months, or decades. It took almost 20 years for the clarity that my divorce that happened around the turn of the century turned out to be a good thing. Or maybe God turned it into a good thing. Twenty-two years ago, I was in shock. Devastated. Confused. Now, I am thankful. Everything worked out for the best. Not perfect, but the timing was perfect.

Hindsight is often much clearer than foresight or present sight. Physically, my sight is not very clear at all. Between the floaters and the early cataracts, plus scratches on my glasses, it’s a wonder I can get from point A to point B. But the brain is good at adapting – looking around the cloudy patches.

“All Clear,” is what I want to hear about Ukraine. So, people don’t have to hide, flee, or fear for their lives. I’m just shaking my head and praying for: All Clear all over the world. Anything is possible.

My first decade in the 21st century was a painstaking process of grieving, healing, and learning. Though it sometimes seems like it happened in the blink of an eye, I know that was not the case.

This became my song in the second decade of the 21st Century.

~~~

For more streams of consciousness and all the ruly and unruly things, visit our host, Linda Hill, who is clearly the best, by clicking HERE.

Get the Damn Shot

This came from the Facebook post of my friend and former supervisor.

On an even more sobering note, my friend Wayne who was in ICU, died on Monday. I am still having trouble believing it. He was ten years younger than me. After years of addiction, Wayne worked hard on recovery then went back to school and got his masters degree in psychology. He led by example and from his heart to help countless numbers of people on the journey from addiction to recovery. During his final weeks in ICU, Wayne posted that his health care team was begging him to tell people to get vaccinated. The vaccine might have saved his life. He leaves behind a loving, grieving family and a huge recovery community who will always remember him.

Rest in peace, Wayne. Enjoy those heavenly beaches!

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One Liner Wednesday is brought to us by Linda Hill. For more one-liners and guidelines visit Linda’s blog:

https://lindaghill.com/2021/09/01/one-liner-wednesday-cushy-jobs/

Feelings From My Eleven Year Old Self

Writing my family history from my parents’ perspective is emotionally hard right now. The idea that it could some day become a novel is distant. I’m writing about the time when my dad was in Vietnam and my mom was trying to cope with her anxiety and depression and what do to with the family dog. That is the gigantic issue for me. Hoppy.

Hoppy 1967

I was 11 years old. Hoppy, a Newfoundland/Shepherd mix was my confidant. We had moved from Philadelphia to Michigan to New York staying with other families while Dad was in Vietnam. That summer we would stay in Quantico until dad finally got stationed at Camp Lejeune again.

Hoppy had been with us through each move. But something happened to him that spring in New York. I don’t know the truth. My mom made up as story about a sick little girl who needed him more than I did. I believed it. I suppose it could be true. Now, at the age of 65, I wade through my dad’s letters from Vietnam with fear as I approach the possibility of more clues. Any day now, I could read a letter that tells me more about what happened to Hoppy. My parents loved each other very much. It was a terribly hard time for them. I’m trying to look at the big picture and have compassion for all. I wrote this note to myself in my work in progress:

Note to self: Step back and look at the big picture with compassion for all. Allow your feelings. The truth is you don’t know what happened You might was well imagine something good.

So I tried to imagine Hoppy being adopted by a loving family. Then the grief broke through from that 11 year old girl who was me.

I LOVED HIM.

The sobs came and I prayed for guidance, for comfort. All I can do right now is reach back across the 54 years to that eleven year old girl whose body was changing in crazy ways, whose father was in Vietnam, whose mother was on the verge of another nervous breakdown, the girl whose dog was gone – and wrap my arms around her and hold her and tell her she is going to get through this.

In 1967, that eleven year old girl learned to shut down her feelings. She focused on school work and escaped into Star Trek. But she still had that pain and confusion buried all those years ago trying to accept the story her mother told her about her dog.

I guess that’s enough writing for today.

Here’s a family photo from happier times. Probably right after Dad got back from Vietnam since he’s pretty thin.

I’m the big girl on the right wearing hushpuppies.

I wrote this before checking the prompt for Just Jot January which is “button.” I guess we never know when we’re going to bump into a button that takes us back to our childhood, for better or worse, offering an opportunity for healing.

Linda’s Just Jot January story looks interesting. Click the following link for details:

#JusJoJan prompt the 15th – “Button” | (lindaghill.com)

Five Spirit Dogs

I started this poem many months ago after Doodle crossed over and updated it last week for Mary Moo. The waves of grief come further apart now. I no longer check Mary’s room every day. David and I reminisce about the pack, their antics, and individual peculiarities. Fond memories are starting to match the sadness. Maybe some day fond memories will prevail.

Mary Moo, Jesse, Doodle, Beep, and Oreo.  (Back cover painting for Trust the Timing.)

 

Must love dogs, she said.

Be careful what you wish for.

My soul mate’s three joined my two

For a crazy blended family.

The five pack struggled to mesh.

Who was in charge?

The humans of course!

So we thought.

 

Little Mary Moo had been the boss.

Doodle, food-obsessed coon hound,

Taught her otherwise.

Possessive Beep and Neurotic Oreo were buds.

Golden Boy Jesse shared guard duty.

The five pack adapted.

Dog love flourished,

With episodic bedlam.

 

My golden boy was the first to leave.

He used to love to run on the beach,

But his old legs wouldn’t work anymore.

Then there were four.

 

Quiet Oreo left us next.

His lovable heart gave out.

No more thunder storms to terrify.

Then there were three.

 

Beep missed Oreo,

But she still had a pack to herd

Until she could walk no more.

Then there were two.

 

We thought Doodle would be last,

Being so loud and full of life.

I bet she took that rainbow bridge in a single bound.

And then there was one.

 

Mary Moo was once a feisty girl.

Almost 18, deaf and blind,

She kept looking for something she lost.

Maybe that squirrel she caught long ago.

 

Our five spirit dogs

Now live on the other side

of the rainbow bridge,

Not waiting idly.

 

Jesse swims in mountain lakes.

Oreo doesn’t have to be scared anymore.

He’s running with his friend, Beep.

Doodle is friends with everyone.

Mary Moo chases squirrels like lightening.

 

Jesse

Oreo

 

Beep

Doodle

 

Mary Moo

 

 

SoCS: Joint Efforts/Getting Ready to Say Goodbye

Today’s SoCS prompt is “joint.” We can use it as a noun, an adjective, or a verb– or any way we like. And of course, Linda says we are to “Enjoy!”

My husband and I are finally getting back to having a backyard garden. It’s a joint effort. So far we have zucchini, pepper, and cherry tomato plants. We’ve planted butternut squash seeds and sunflower seeds. We cleared out some small trees and dead vines to let more light in our jungly backyard. I hope it will be enough light. We plan to also have basil and sweet potatoes. I planted a basil plant that I got from Dollar General for a dollar in the fall which made it through the winter inside. It’s a little puny, but it’s alive!

Another joint effort has been taking care of Mary Moo who is still with us. She’s the oldest dog I’ve ever had coming up on 18 years. We’ve been close to saying goodbye, but since Benadryl has been helping us all sleep through the night, and since she was wagging her tail today (Friday), we’ve decided to save our goodbyes for another day. Mary and I are the ones taking the Benadryl. David doesn’t really need it, though he does take daytime allergy medicine.

Joint efforts are what our country and planet need to fight off COVID 19 and evolve into a healthier human race. We need to find out common grounds. Not coffee grounds, though maybe that would help. Just meet for coffee and get to know each other. But wait, we’d have do to that virtually or on Zoom or something.

I finally Zoomed for church Sunday and Maundy Thursday. We’ll zoom for Good Friday service and Easter. Zooming is a joint effort to maintain meetings and church while social distancing. It’s strange, but it was nice to see these familiar faces on the screen. It’s hard to do music or sing as a group because of the delay, but I did sing and play guitar yesterday for our zoom church and today by myself in my living room. Maybe I’ll see if David can record me for an Easter song. Now that I’ve typed that, I have to try it. That will be a joint effort. I’ve been trying to get him to play a drum while I play guitar. We’ll see……

Here’s an update on my amaryllis:

I don’t even fertilize them or anything! It must be the earth worms.

The above was written on Friday night. It’s Saturday morning now at 8:30. The Benadryl didn’t work for Mary Moo last night. She woke up crying at 2am because she had to poop. She’s gotten to the point where she can’t poop without me holding her back legs or she falls down, so it’s time. We have an appointment with the vet at 9:30 to say goodbye. Except we have to say goodbye outside the vet office because they’re not letting any people clients in the building because of #—%–@ COVID 19. Good thing I trust our vet. We’ve been loving on Mary Moo a lot in the past few days. Here’s a picture of her and my Golden Boy Jesse years ago running at a dog park on vacation in the mountains. Mary Moo will be with Jesse soon. Running like the wind.

Sorry it’s blurry, but you get the idea. 

I’ll try to check back in later. Sorry for the bummer ending, but that’s the circle of life. Mary Moo had a good one.

 

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For more streams of consciousness and details, see our host, Linda at:

https://lindaghill.com/2020/04/10/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-april-11-2020/

One-Liner Wednesday: Healing Possibilities

 

“….And the people began to think differently. And the people healed..… the earth began to heal…..”

 

For more one-liners, visit our host, Linda Hill at

Find more inspiring or humorous one-liners here:

https://lindaghill.com/2020/03/18/one-liner-wednesday-a-challenge/

Good News Tuesday: Building Bridges, Wind Power, and Support in El Paso

Seeking Balance One Tuesday at a Time

 

Working Together

Over the next 12 weeks, Jewish, Islamic, and Christian volunteers in Greenville, South Carolina will work together to build a Habitat for Humanity house. Starting on August 8th, this “Abraham Build” is the second of Habitat for Humanity’s Bridge Builder series. Their goals are to build a house for a family and to provide a safe opportunity for dialog and understanding across different cultures and religions. Here’s more of their story.

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A wind farm in North Carolina

The Potential of Wind Power

A new study of on-shore wind farm capacity shows that Europe has the potential to supply energy for the whole world for 30 years.

“The study is not a blueprint for development, but a guide for policymakers indicating the potential of how much more can be done and where the prime opportunities exist,” said co-author Benjamin Sovacool, Professor of Energy Policy at the University of Sussex.

They’re not suggesting that wind turbines cover the entire area of capacity. The study does open up the likelihood that if  all countries made it a priority to develop alternative energy sources, we could achieve what Peter Enevoldsen, of the Center for Energy Technologies at Aarhus University calls “…a 100% renewable and fully decarbonized energy system.”

You can read more about the study in this article from The Good News Network.

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Becoming Family

Antonio Basco was  worried no one would come to his wife’s funeral. He lost Margie, his wife of 22 years, in the El Paso shooting. When the funeral director sent out a message inviting everyone, hundreds showed up to become family.

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Got good news?

Please share in the comments or write your own Good News Tuesday post and link it back here! It can be global, local, or personal.