I woke up today with a head clear enough to do some of the things I needed to do and I was able to do them plus somewhat more.

My legs remain very swollen despite upping the fluid tablets.

My hands are a little better.

Now – this is what I did today.  Much more than I am normally able to do. When I got up I realised that the rest days were beginning to work and I think a rest day tomorrow would be a good idea but today I rose against the fatigue and went out into the world.

I filled the car with petrol.

I went to the Centrelink Agency and we faxed my address change details through.

I called in to see the young muso who compadre was killed in a crash last week.

I went to the Green Grocers and bought good food as well as an immune booster juice and I sat and drank it and used my iPad to write a post. All new things for me.

Even parking and walking distances is rather new. I simply have been unable to do them.

I went up to the chemist and the Girls were there – all 3 of them. I got the Lasix fluid tablets and a pair of hoop earrings – motivated by Saf’s purchase for her ears.

Then I came on home and wheeled my washing down to their house to be done in the shopping trolley I have bought.  Plenty of laughter and talking and drawing.

I am getting the knack of the iPad and of iCloud .

Now I am home and have eaten well. Bathed and washed my hair.

These things seem mundane but after 3 years they are miraculous to me.

And at the end of the day, I sit with photos and internet and a heater. And I sit in prayerfulness. Letting my mind and Spirit wander to people places and things.  Wishing for them the things I would wish for me. It has taken a long long time to become spiritually well enough to feel that way again. For tonight – I am free of resentment and therein lies peace.

peace of mind

peace of spirit and heart

peace in the body

Then my mind roams backwards with the photos and I see other times of my life through the eyes of today. And then I smile.

I look back but the Siren Call doesn’t wrap around and try to call me back. I see only the beauty of it. The Rightness of the Time.  The silver spider webs have let me loose at last.

Now I go on following the Silver Thread that leads me to the next people places and things.


The EGO MUST be smashed, before we can completely surrender . The ego is our biggest enemy.

Now I am chatting to an NA member in Kentucky. Its a wonderful world these days with instant contact with these people and places. There is a growing movement of outrage about the direction NA World has taken and it has helped me with suspicions and unease I was feeling.

hermit’s thatch › Sentiment and hermits

Sentiment and hermitsIn his poem “Old Age,” the poet Ou Yang Hsui (1007-1072) tells briefly of the burdens of getting sick when old: dry, dull eyes, aches, a fuzzy brain dull and forgetful.When I was young I liked to read. Now I am too old to make the effort. Then, too, If I come across something interesting I have no one to talk to about it.

In theory, a solitary ought not to miss another’s presence but Ou Yang Hsui’s expression of loneliness is not unusual even among the worldly.

Nor is a hermit immune to sentiment.

Kenneth Rexroth notes that in fact the Chinese Tang poets inclined to sentiment, especially with advancing age.

The poets, male and female, thought of their forties as old age, referring to the first gray hair. By late forties, the course of their days was uncertain, and by fifty the end seemed near. Perhaps given the vagaries of life expectancy in antiquity, this sentiment was not unjustified.

Studies of life expectancy in past centuries revised longevity based on survival into adulthood, so that older age was not infrequent, but the poets preferred a different criteria.When the famous recluse Tu Fu (712-770) visited retired scholar Wei Pa, he reflected:We sit here together in the candle light.How much longer will our prime last?

Our temple are already grey.I visit my old friendsHalf of them ave become ghosts.Fear and sorrow choke me and burn my bowels …

Source: hermit’s thatch › Sentiment and hermits

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