Telling the Truth

connecting the dots of my life

Tag: Daily Prompt

June 12, 2017

In this short life

Here’s another wise comment from Emily Dickinson, found in a volume of poetry for young people. I think it’s for us older folks, too. My comments follow.

In this short life
That only lasts an hour,
How much, how little,
Is within our power!

Emily Dickinson: Poetry for Young People
Edited by Frances Schoonmaker Bolin
Illustrated by Chi Chung
Sterling Publishing Co., 1994

Not much here for me to love. If life is short and only lasts an hour, and since I’m nearer the end of my hour than ever before, my time to make an impact has come and almost gone.

Or so it seems. How do we assess the impact of one human life?

It’s easy to understand the quandary Emily describes. I want to make an impact. I want to make things better. I want to do volumes of good. I want my life to count for something. I don’t want to do it all, have it all, climb every mountain or ford every stream. I just want to make a measurable difference. For good, of course.

Yet life as lived is almost unbearably repetitious and often filled with poor decisions.

Emily Dickinson spent most of her short, painfully private life taking care of others, enjoying nature, reading, scribbling words on paper, and stuffing them away unseen. Today they’re everywhere in collections and volumes. The gift of a short life now gifting us with insights into nature and human nature.

St. Thomas Aquinas suggests we can’t judge the power of one person’s life narrative at the time of his or her death. The full, true meaning of a human life can’t be known until it plays out in the lives of others. Thus our good looms longer and larger than our lives; so does our evil or neglect of the good. What we do and what we don’t do matters.

Emily’s words ring painfully true. We’re faced with an exasperating quandary. Each day the seconds tick away, presenting us with limited options, limited time and limited power.

Because of this, we can’t pronounce final judgment on ourselves, much less others. Not just judgment about the meaning of our lives, but about the meaning of any one day, hour or minute.

Instead, I choose to focus on loving God, loving myself, and loving my neighbors. Not just my next-door neighbors, but those who live on the other side of this globe or the other side of the road.

Further, I choose to do this as a woman loved in all my glory and ignominy by my Creator. Every second of every day. And yes, I still choose to make a difference for good. Even though that means making a difference for ill from time to time, regardless of my best intentions.

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 12 June 2017
Image found at alphacoder.com 
Response to WordPress Daily Prompt: Volume

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June 10, 2017

caught unawares

caught unawares
poised between heaven and earth
pilgrims journey home

When will the sun set?
Who will return tomorrow?
Will the bridge remain?

steady footsteps
drum softly in fading light
glowing with promise

***

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 10 June 2017
Photo found at pixabay.com – Burmese Foot Bridge at Sunset
Response to WordPress Daily Prompt: Revelation

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June 9, 2017

My one-of-a-kind body

Dear Friends,

This past week was a blur. Not a horrible blur, but the kind that softens my outlook and strains my capacity to take things in. I knew it was coming, yet living through it physically and emotionally was more exhausting than I anticipated.

It’s all about my dear, one-of-a-kind body. The one I’m learning to treat tenderly–with special care, huge respect and growing gratitude. It’s easy for me to fall into a sense of despair when things don’t improve as quickly as I’d like.

And yet…the outcome of this week’s saga is positive. I now have four more lab tests to get through—three involve separate blood draws. The other is a 24-hour collection I won’t describe because you really don’t want to know.

I met my kidney doctor on Wednesday, and relaxed immediately. She had a welcoming, patient-centered approach and treated me as the adult woman I am. I was surprised to hear she wasn’t sure what’s going on in my body. The numbers are clear on my lab results for the last ten years.

At the same time, having seen me, she doesn’t consider me an ‘average’ 73-year-old woman. For example, I’m still physically active and don’t look that old. Hence the standard measurements don’t necessarily apply. So she wants to find out whether I’m at an earlier stage of kidney disease, or whether something else might be going on. I left with orders for further testing.

My exhaustion continues, as do other issues that have plagued me for the past year. Which brings me to yesterday’s appointment with my integrative doctor. She’s also totally patient-oriented, and is treating me for adrenal disorder (sometimes related to kidney problems).

Last December she told me it might take 2 full years to recover my energy. Along with more supplements and directions about diet, she gave me a list of changes to make in my lifestyle. I had to start putting myself first, cutting way back on things I didn’t need to do, meditating regularly, enjoying the outdoors, and I think you get the picture.

In short, I had to begin loving my body more than I loved pleasing or even being with other people. I had to treat my weary body as tenderly as I might treat a newborn baby. It’s no exaggeration to say I was a rank beginner at this, even though I thought I’d been treating myself well.

After reviewing how things were going in all parts of my health care, she wrote orders for follow-up blood work, gave me a big thumbs up, and sent me home to carry on!

The way ahead still feels heavy. My attitude, however, has changed. Each evening I make a short journal entry about how I’m feeling. Now, instead of dwelling on the challenges or discouragements of each day, I recall things that brought me joy and delight.

I’ve also decided I might like to live to be 100 after all! Not because I think the world is getting better each day, but because I’m finding ways to celebrate little things instead of focusing on stress-points in my life or in this world God loves so much.

With hope and gratitude,
Elouise ♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 9 June 2017
Response to WordPress Daily Prompt: Tender 

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June 5, 2017

Reduction of persons

Reduction of persons
into friends and enemies
betrays small vision
driven by fear

Snap judgments
drive compulsive sorting
of good versus everyone else

Diminishing circles of friends
birth expanding circles of enemies

Profiling writ large
defaces our common humanity

Vain attempts to maintain control
over an imagined world
guarantee nothing–
not even my survival
at the cost of yours

***

With thanks to the Oxford English Dictionary for its entry on ‘uniform’ as a verb. Here’s a choice quotation from the July 1887 edition of Harper’s Magazine: “It is a human device to uniform people into friends and enemies.”

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 5 June 2017
Response to WordPress Daily Prompt: Uniform

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June 3, 2017

Is it my imagination?

Competing headlines
Fly through air
Thick with alternative voices
Screaming for my attention–
Concentration on things that matter
Forced to wait breathless
As the next raw-meat morsel
Is bandied before my eyes
Each tasty morsel bait
For the lioness in me
That loves to roar
Calling further attention
To the next high drama
As precious minutes slip away
Never to be repeated

Part of me wants to know what’s happening. Now! After all, I don’t want to be an ostrich with my head in the sand. Things aren’t going well. We seem to have hit more than a rough patch for the foreseeable future. There’s a lot to think about. Now!

Another part of me warns that time spent attending to news reports quickly becomes, for me, a colossal waste of precious time.

When I give away time I lose investment opportunities. The kind that don’t arrive via headlines or monetary gain. Rather, they’re hidden in the faces, comments and stories of family, friends, neighbors and strangers.

The graphics at the top help me make choices about what I’ll spend time reading. I appreciate it. Yet in the end, I still have to choose how much time I’ll spend looking at this ‘big picture.’

The big picture that matters most for me is discerned slowly, piece by piece. One person and one conversation at a time, beginning with those closest to me—family, friends, neighbors, people I meet in the blogosphere, and strangers who live just around the corner.

My life and yours are real, not imaginary. They aren’t measured or summed up by polling information or by our participation in protest, resistance, governmental or even charitable movements.

Rather, they become real to us within the safety of face-to-face, or one-on-one listening. That’s what fires my imagination as a follower of Jesus Christ who first listened to me—long before I knew anyone cared.

I’m no Pollyanna. Not everyone wants to be noticed. But those who do, including myself, are the women, men and children I want to get to know. It can’t hurt to begin by looking up, smiling, and asking, “How are you doing today? Would you like to tell me about it?”

So how are you doing today?

Elouise ♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 3 June 2017
Image sent to me by DAFraser, source unknown
Response to WordPress Daily Prompt: Imaginary

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June 2, 2017

Longwood’s Garden Benches | Photos

The WordPress Prompt for today is Brassy, not one of my favorite words, given its history of being used in negative or derogatory ways. Nonetheless, in the photo above you see a ‘brassy’ cat! Note that she’s gorgeous, beautiful and calm. Also content and independent-minded. With a coat the color of a gleaming brass tuba or trombone. Enough said.

It’s Friday, time for more photos of Longwood’s garden benches. D took most of them over the last few years. In the top photo above, we’re sitting with one of three Garden cats, looking back at the promenade that leads to the Conservatory and Café.

Sturdy, tasteful garden benches line the promenade,
with plenty of room for wheelchairs.

Here’s another angle on the promenade and its benches,
taken in warmer weather from beneath a huge copper beech.

The Meadow Garden is a favorite during late Spring, Summer and Fall.  A handful of benches and a few covered pavilions line the edges of the meadow. Here’s an example of a rustic bench, followed by what you might see if you’re sitting on this bench, looking back across the meadow. Notice the cool, shady garden benches at the edge of a wooded area.


Here’s another set of two.
In the first we have a well-behaved gentleman named D
sitting on one of those shaded benches,
along with a photo of the view from this bench in later Spring.

There’s nothing like the café after an hour or two of walking or hiking through the meadow. Below you’ll see outside seating followed by indoor seating in one of three café dining rooms with views of the gardens. You can also be seated in the upper-priced restaurant. We almost always choose the cheaper café with its healthy and unhealthy options. Something for everyone!

The Gardens have public restrooms in three strategic areas–the Visitor’s Center, the Café and Restaurant area, and the Conservatory. Even though you may not be in dire distress, I highly recommend a visit to the Conservatory restrooms. These are by far the most spectacular public restrooms I have ever visited. Imagine restrooms so beautiful you can’t resist taking a photo. And the garden benches? They’re behind the doors, at least one behind each door, plus lots of room, a beautiful sink and mirror. You’ll think you’re royalty!

Following are other indoor options for sitting and enjoying the fragrance, sound of water, an occasional musical concert from the side hall, or happy shrieks from children exploring the Children’s Garden. You might have to look closely to spot the seats.


One last promenade photo taken on my birthday, two years ago. We’d just spent the day exploring the meadow and Conservatory, and are on our way to the Visitor’s Center (far left corner) before heading home.

I hope your weekend brings unexpected beauty and delight!

Elouise ♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 2 June 2017
Photos taken by DAFraser, and other family members

12 Comments
June 1, 2017

An unexpected gift | Recipes

At 11:00 am yesterday I left my house and walked two short minutes to my next-door neighbor’s house for a show and tell cooking lesson. A simple Indian dish he concocted of quinoa and garbanzos. He wanted to cook something that would fit my health needs, and thought this might fit the bill.

I sat on a kitchen stool watching as he started from scratch and put it together, checking each ingredient with me as he went along.

There weren’t any mysterious ingredients or fancy maneuvers at the stove. Just water for the rinsed quinoa (2 cups dry), cooked first (about 4 cups water, no salt) and left to sit when done, covered, while he prepared the flavorings in a large frying pan.

Here’s what went into the frying pan:

  • 2 to 3 tablespoons of olive oil, heated, to which he added
  • Sliced fresh garlic – 6 or 7 cloves
  • 1 teaspoon each, cumin seed and mustard seed
  • Turmeric powder to taste
  • Chili powder to taste
  • About 1 teaspoon ground coriander

When the seed were popping and the spices fragrant, he added prepared caramelized onions and let things simmer. Next he added the drained garbanzos (a large can) and let the mixture simmer in the olive oil. Finally, he added another smaller handful of chopped coriander and one chopped yellow onion. Then it all simmered until the onions had lost their bitterness but not their crunch.

Finally, he added the flavorings and beans in the frying pan to the pot of cooked quinoa and mixed everything together.

Then the moment of truth! He served up small portions for everyone present—his twins and their nanny, and me, of course. Delicious. Nourishing. Easy to make.

This unexpected gift came because the day before he’d seen me out walking, asked about my health, and wanted to do something that would be good for me and easy to make for myself. I brought most of it home and had some for lunch today. Yummy!

For me, this was a big event. Nonetheless, it doesn’t take much to make my day. Just bits and pieces here and there. A note or email from a friend, a smile from the clerk at the grocery store, seeing friends when I’m out walking, a lovely song on the radio, a late afternoon walk with D, evening birdsong or a call from a family member. Small things that let me know I’m not alone, and that I matter.

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 1 June 2017
Photo found at betazeta.com, not the dish described above, but similar
Response to WordPress Daily Prompt: Portion

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May 31, 2017

Disappeared

Disappeared
without a trace
comes home to haunt us

Dis-membered
lives and bodies broken
past yet present

Suppressed
roots of our
current discontent

We don’t have to accept this state of denial. It leaves traces that scream to be heard. We are a multicultural nation.

We don’t all agree that this is a proud heritage. Nonetheless, not once in my upbringing or schooling did anyone introduce me to the full history of multicultural America, the so-called United States. We seemed content with stylized stories that perhaps told part, but not nearly enough of the truth.

The seminary in which I taught and served as dean had a proudly diverse student body, faculty and staff. Yet every time there was a national racial incident (Rodney King, for example), I was reminded of how much I didn’t know or understand.

During my last year at the seminary, I was part of a small faculty group that piloted a way to work together on issues of race and multicultural differences. We took up-front time coming to agreement about how to be safe within our diverse group. Then we got to work, doing with each other the personal and group work that might be done across our campus and institutional structures.

One of the most riveting books we read was A Different Mirror: A History of Multicultural America. It’s now out in an expanded, updated edition. The author Ronald Takaki, was born and raised in the USA. His ancestors came from Japan, and he looks Japanese. And yet…he was still considered an outsider.

Takaki’s well-documented book begins with American Indians, before the so-called discovery of this country. From there, he traces the chronological history of multicultural America to the present.

This is the American History I was never taught in school. Takaki packs it with data, stories, photos, archived news articles, and astute insights into why we are diverse, and how each group was received into these United States. He also has a vision for what we might learn from this history about our future as a thriving multicultural nation.

We’ve forgotten our roots. We’ve suppressed them and found ways to cope with or rewrite the truth about our past. We’ve done this in public and private, newscasts, corporations, universities, neighborhoods, families, churches and communities of faith, and in our educational system—to name a few. Textbook wars are still fought to keep certain voices from seeing the light of day.

Sadly, this approach suppresses the truth about brave women, men and children who found and still find ways to work together against our national habit of creating insiders and outsiders.

What kind of future do we want for our country? What would it take to get from here to there?

For starters, you might read this book. You might find yourself in it. Or, if you’d like a shorter, equally riveting edition, there’s an edition for young people. Same title, with well-documented stories and photos. Both books are difficult to put down.

Add it to your reading list!

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 31 May 2017
Response to WordPress Daily Prompt: Trace

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May 27, 2017

early Spring splendor

early Spring splendor
fills chilled air with blossoms–
garden seat beckons

***

For one of my followers who wants to know where the garden seats are in Longwood Gardens. There are many–which I’m now collecting from my photo albums. This particular bench has always been one of my favorites–at the end of the flower walk, often in the shade, always off the beaten path.

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 27 May 2017
Photo credit: DAFraser, March 2016 at Longwood Gardens
Response to WordPress Daily Prompt: Infuse

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May 25, 2017

Letting go my desire for survival

I’m missing the routines
that keep me steady
and grounded.

Living moment to moment—
So happy to be with her again,
my daughter.

A little off-balance in my daily life—
Grateful for a quiet mid-day
so I can write, eat, be with myself and rest.

The rain has stopped and the sky is brighter.
Still feeling the edge of cold damp air
on my hands, legs and torso—
Wore my wool undershirt today
and flannel-lined jeans.

I want to mother her—
The thought of end-of-life stuff
gives extra meaning and urgency to our visits.

Have I been faithful to her?
Always such a distance to travel
for such a small bit of time.

Is it time to practice letting go—for good?
Whatever that means—
I’m not sure.

I’ve never done this before.
Neither has she—
So many unknowns.

It’s hard to see through tears.

Just being alone for a few hours in this house
feels sad—too empty,
too quiet.

What will it be when she isn’t here—
Or when I’m not here?….

***

I wrote this journal entry during a recent week-long visit with our daughter and her husband. Our first visit with them since I learned I have Chronic Kidney Disease. Surprisingly, the words sing to me–sweetly and sadly. No rushed or distressed cadence. Just the leading edge of a reality unknown to me as a mother.

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 25 May 2017
Response to WordPress Daily Prompt: Survive

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