Health and Wellbeing | Telling the Truth

weapons of warfare

intention to harm
shot from loaded heart and tongue
backfires brilliantly
exposing raw self-contempt
seething beneath thin skin

What will it take to give us, as a nation, eyes to see beneath the surface of bully tactics?

The best solution I’ve found is to stand before the mirror of my loaded heart and tongue. I’m still learning to acknowledge, comfort and care for deep wounds inflicted upon me by others and by myself. The cost, however, is high. I have to let others in, allowing them to see and love me in my self-contempt, sometimes showing me how it’s done.

Is this lifetime skill of loving ourselves as damaged yet unspeakably valuable persons modeled in our homes, our churches, our schools? Do we know how to see into bullies without being hooked by their bows, arrows and buckshot ways? Do we know how to value them without giving up the duty of holding them accountable for the harm they do us and others? No matter who they are?

Our nation is drowning in an epidemic self-contempt raging across every boundary on our maps. It festers and erupts within national and state politics, and within the homes and streets of our neighborhoods. Directly and indirectly it fuels every shot of every firearm ever invented. How do we address this crisis? Or even begin to acknowledge it as a national emergency that touches each of us, whether we realize it or not.

©Elouise Renich Fraser, 3 November 2017
Image found at theodysseyonline.com
Daily Prompt: Simmer, Neighbors

19 Comments

October 27, 2017

It doesn’t have to be the blue iris

It’s the end of a busy week, and we’re hoping to visit Longwood Gardens tomorrow (yay!). One thing that helped me stay focused this week was Mary Oliver’s poem below. My comments follow.

Praying

It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.

Mary Oliver, Thirst, Beacon Press 2006

Mary Oliver invites me to attend to small things right before my eyes, often at my feet. Pay attention. So much attention that I can’t stop thinking about it/them.

One small thing caught my attention this past week. At first I didn’t see any connections. Or hear any voices speaking into my silence. Yet I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

‘It’ is a small, striped-tail chipmunk (ground squirrel) that regularly sits on a cement block wall just along the edge of our backyard driveway. He or she? I don’t know. I do know it’s often sitting or lying on that wall in just the same spot. And has been since the wall was completed several years ago.

Sometimes it runs down the wall and jumps into our pile of yard trimmings, looking for food. When the weather is chilly, it stretches out on top of its favorite cement block and soaks in the sun. Other times it sits there alert, watching for possible intruders.

I think it has a nest inside one of the cement blocks—on the unfinished back side of the wall. Sometimes when I walk by on the way to the garage it quickly races into one of the cement blocks.

Several kinds of hawks frequent our area. I’ve watched them swoop down into our back yard to surprise a large gray squirrel, a slow sparrow or a dove. I’ve also heard our small chipmunk squawking out the alarm, joined by other small backyard creatures. Sometimes the hawks have their way.

We live in unsettled times. It takes determination to focus on simple things that inhabit our lives. Especially when there are hawks out there with their beady eyes scanning the ground for juicy tidbits.

Mary Oliver’s poem invites me to pay attention to the chipmunk. To hear our Creator’s voice speaking through the simple things of life. Not giving up, but staying alert, living each day simply and fully. Which can be a way of saying thank you. Without fancy gestures or heavy words laden with heavy thoughts. This isn’t a contest.

9 Comments

October 20, 2017

Moments

Death
Sudden release
Followed by startled grief
Most deeply felt
In waves

Calm
Release of pain
Blood pressure dropping
To a measurable
Sum

Joy
Knocks at my door
Sweeps emptiness aside
For a shining moment
Lingering

Peace
Unannounced
Arrives on the doorstep
Of my heart
Singing

15 Comments

October 18, 2017

Still on my open-mic high

Sunday evening I bravely showed up at our church with D and three poems. Our church’s first-ever open-mic night. The gym was set up with gracious laid-back elegance, and several tables were spread with café-quality cookies and other sweet finger foods. Plus non-alcoholic drinks and a basket for donations to the Deacon’s Fund.

To my surprise, I was up first. Good! It meant I fully enjoyed the rest of the show. Performers included children, young people, middle-age people, and a good number of us gray-hairs. About twelve ‘acts’ in all, ranging from poetry and a book excerpt reading to riddles, funny jokes, professional and amateur musical renditions, and a crazy-funny skit at the end.

It felt good to be behind a microphone again. I’m not a born performer. I do, though, love the way words work, especially when delivered as performance art, with an opportunity to say a bit about what I’ve written.

I chose personal poems, accessible to all ages. Below are links to my three poems, plus the third poem in its entirety. Reading it out loud was even better than writing it!

This was my first open-mic event ever. So now I’m wondering about venues where I might read and talk about more of my poems, now more than 390. But that’s for another day.

music to my ears
Her bespoke face
Homecoming on the Grounds….

Homecoming on the Grounds….

Homecoming this Sunday on the grounds
of the Montgomery Presbyterian Church
Come One, Come All!
Sunday, 12:30 to 5:00 pm
All Ages Welcome!

Beneath aging water oaks
Long wooden tables covered with oilcloth
and butcher paper groan with food
Children race shrieking with joy

Ladies arrange and surreptitiously rearrange
table settings to favor their own delicacies
properly positioned for easy access
and maximum compliments

Piles of coated, crispy southern fried chicken
Bowls of homegrown boiled corn on the cob cut in 2-inch portions
Mounds of southern white potato salad swimming
in mayo, relish, cut-up hard-boiled eggs, salt and pepper

Molded bright green and orange jello ‘salads’
defy description
laced with canned mixed fruit, grated carrots and raisins,
small-curd cottage cheese and pineapple bits or
My Mom’s strawberry jello salad
with real strawberries and rhubarb!

Platters of thick-sliced juicy homegrown tomatoes
Hunks of sugary-sweet southern-style cornbread
Pots of honey-bee honey and real butter

Obligatory cut green beans drowning
in canned cream-of-something soup topped
with crispy brown onion fries
Boiled collards and turnip greens swimming
in chunks of fatty ham and Tobasco-laced broth

Plates of beguiling deviled eggs dusted with red paprika
Baskets of buttery white rolls and salty potato chips
Nary a boiled carrot to be seen

Lemon chiffon pie, sweet potato pie
and banana pudding with soggy vanilla wafer edges
Cheesecake in graham-cracker crusts
topped with canned cherries
smothered in red glop

Pecan pies and German chocolate cakes
Chocolate chip cookies, decorated sugar cookies, peanut butter cookies
Moon Pies and Tootsie Rolls

Hot coffee with caffeine and real cream
Sweetened iced tea with lemon slices
Water and funeral home fans for the faint of heart

Yet more glorious still—
Pit-cooked, falling-apart whole barbecued pork
prepared and reverently tended overnight by real men
on the grounds of hog heaven
***

This is a favorite childhood memory from life in the South. I was 8 years old when we moved to the Deep South. These annual October potluck dinners were even better than Christmas!

Cheers!
Elouise♥

15 Comments

October 16, 2017

Monday Morning Sunshine

We had a cool front come through during the night, with blessed relief from 100% humidity day and night, cool breezes, and the slightest hint of sun behind those clouds which will, of course, dissipate in their own good time.

Still, I want some Monday morning sunshine. So here it is, beginning at the top with one of my favorite taken-by-me photos of D, my loyal partner, at Longwood Gardens on the day of our 52nd wedding anniversary. Isn’t he gorgeous? So is that sunshine, I might add.

Coming in a close second is the second main male in my life right now–Prince Oliver Smudge the Second. He’s perched on one of his thrones, alert as ever, loyally watching over my first main male to make sure he doesn’t fall asleep in front of the computer. Also taken by me, this time with my mini IPad (instead of D’s fancy camera).

Next we have one of my favorite Calvin and Hobbes strips about the infamous Divide and Conquer Strategy. I debated using it for my last post, but decided it was too lighthearted for the subject matter. Still, it makes a great point, and the little stab at the end might help you keep your sanity and upbeat outlook at least alive, if not thriving.

Finally, a rousing rendition from Norman Blake in true Southern country music style, from the soundtrack of “O Brother, Where Art Thou?” Sing along and don’t be bashful. It’s great fun!

Cheers!
Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 16 October 2017
Photos taken by ERFraser, 11 Sept 2017 and October 2017
Cartoon found at bloggingblue.com
Daily Prompt: Loyal

13 Comments

October 12, 2017

Evening Prayer

I’m weary this evening, Lord —
All I want is Your smile.

Daylight faded hours ago —
The choir sings to a congregation of one.

I jotted down these words last night while listening to an old hymn, “Abide with me; fast falls the eventide.” The end of a slow day, quiet and unimpressive with the exception of two encounters.

One was with a neighbor when I was out walking. She was standing on her front porch, waiting for a taxi. We talked about her recent illness, her cat, and the woman who died across the street and down the lane just last week.

Later during my walk I saw a couple I’ve known for years. They were out walking, too. About my age, both retired and in good shape with the exception of her fractured ankle and torn ligaments still on the mend months later.

I’ve been focused on prayer lately. Especially since my friend Margie died and left a huge void when it comes to prayer for others. My list grows daily. Not in leaps and bounds, but in small increments. Everyday people with difficult challenges and heartaches.

I haven’t figured out how to pray in a pointed way for the big stuff that hits the news every day. Not that I don’t know what to say. It’s more about not having a personal connection, or being so incensed that I don’t want to pray ‘for’ this or that. I just want to rage against it.

Perhaps things aren’t really worse than they used to be. In some ways, I’ve seen this country in worse shape than we’re in now. Yet in other ways we’re simply reverting to what I’d hoped we left behind. This, too, is a great weariness.

Maybe that’s where I need to begin. With things like the opioid crisis, the result of fraud on multiple levels over many years–perpetrated on people in chronic pain. People just like you and just like me. I wonder where in my neighborhood it’s making its mark today?

14 Comments

October 10, 2017

Taming my bad beast

Two beasts roam around in me. A good beast and a bad beast. They want to direct my life. Sort of like Aslan, and sort of like the White Queen in The Chronicles of Narnia.

So here’s the trap I face regularly–to do or not to do something, plus my deep wish to say yes, and be part of the show. Normal! Not sitting somewhere on the sidelines, feeling left out, unappreciated or unacknowledged.

Sometimes the good beast in me roars, ‘No, I will not go with you on that wild goose chase! Don’t say I didn’t warn you!’ And though I often agree reluctantly, it’s most often the best thing for me not to do. Even though it’s costly.

The bad beast, unfortunately, knows how to look like a good beast, especially when it’s about whatever seems true, healthy, and of good report. It doesn’t always roar. It’s more likely to whisper in my ear reminding me that I can do just about anything if I put my mind to it.

And there’s the rub. It takes a lot more than my mind to do most things. Which gets me into self-defeating cycles of madness. Nothing you’d call 9-1-1 about. Unless I collapse on the race-track—not entirely impossible.

So, charging right ahead, about 6 or 8 weeks ago I noticed my Fitbit was urging me on to new heights of fitness. Nothing wrong with that, I thought, as I pondered my last year of slow-walk, slow-go, plenty of time outs for rest pace.

Fitbit is not a monster. Or a beast. It just knows how to get the attention of my beast—the one that wants to be right up there with everyone else. You know, that community of friends and sometimes family who are equally mad about Fitbit and determined to make their all goals each day and earn those lime-green flashy lights at the end of the day! Maybe even make it to the top of the Leader Board!

Heavy duty adrenalin rushes through my veins even as I write the words. Bad sign….

So I went for it. For nearly two months. At first it was wonderful. The weather cooperated. My body cooperated. I slept great and woke up without a whimper.

And then it wasn’t so wonderful. Little things began nagging at me. Feet hurting more than usual, aches here and there, falling asleep before I got to bed. Nothing huge, but a cloud of little gnats constantly getting in my way.

I was trying to walk a marathon and burn a gazillion calories each day, when all I needed to do was walk 2 miles a day or not, and burn just enough calories or not.

Yesterday I took an extra day of rest. Total delight and relief. I’m still wearing my Fitbit, but as a check—not as a dare-you-to-top-yesterday red flag waving in front of me all day.

Hoping your day is filled with serenity, sanity and gratitude for the one-of-a-kind person you are.
Elouise♥

8 Comments

October 9, 2017

Monday Sabbath

Subdued
I pull comfort clothes
Close around my chilled body

Raindrops
Fall steady on the roof
Wind gusts whip through trees

Outside
Tires beat damp paths
From somewhere to somewhere else

Inside
My heart beats tired
Ready for Monday Sabbath

Or
Was it yesterday
I don’t recall for sure

But
Just in case
I’m not taking any chances

Today
Is Sabbath Rest
My body already believes
And I follow
Now

Yes, friends, in need of another day of rest. The best kind ever—rainy, damp, cool and windy. It didn’t take much to convince me….back tomorrow.

Elouise♥

4 Comments

October 5, 2017

out of synch

Today I’m feeling out of synch. This morning I was out the door early for a haircut appointment, followed by a little grocery shopping. Then lunch at home, and now it’s almost mid-afternoon. This evening I’m planning to attend a service for my friend Margie who died last month.

Tired. That’s how I feel today. Weary. Also uncertain about how I fit into this world just now. Not simply because of recent tragedies and turns of political events, but because of something in me that hasn’t yet found a home.

Most of my life is back there somewhere. Some of it lost forever. Other parts tantalize me. I’d like to go back and reclaim some of them. Others I’m happy to leave in the dust.

A couple of nights ago I wrote these lines in my journal, addressing them to myself and our Creator:

I miss the feedback and rapport of the classroom and working on projects with colleagues. It feels as though I’m in a different universe. Cut off from people and events I used to enjoy. It’s difficult to know whether I’m on track or lost.

I want to feel and know I’m needed, that I’m more than yesterday’s action. I matter, even though I can’t show up the way I used to, or be as spontaneous about activities or plans. It seems everything I do must first be filtered through a host of limitations – a checklist of criteria that gets longer with each new twist or turn in the road.

I want to be needed, not just welcome to participate. Who or what needs me? I don’t know, beyond the obvious family and friends.

Please, help me either resolve this or live with it.

Retirement is wonderful. I love almost everything about it. Yet it has, in many ways, left me with a new kind of loneliness I hadn’t anticipated. The kind that won’t be resolved via extroverted social media platforms, fashionable outfits to enhance my good qualities, or painfully awkward attempts to be someone I am not.

The one solace I have is that loneliness is common. Especially in our over-bearing, over-achieving, over-fretting society. So, in a sense, I suppose I’m right in step when it comes to fashion.

Is loneliness the fashion and grim reality of this age? I’m not certain; yet I fear it’s the truth, from the highest levels of power to the lowest.

Thanks for reading.
Elouise♥

18 Comments

October 3, 2017

The cost of endurance

The cost of endurance drags heavy
on my feet increasingly unwilling
to put one step before another at this
snail’s pace – a lifetime sentence of
fallout from disasters beyond control
out of synch with my world-weary soul

Outside the front door sirens scream
their way toward yet another disaster
while beyond my kitchen windows
trees beneath blue skies and home to
songbirds entice me into yet another
day – interest enough for this old soul

12 Comments

Telling the Truth

Tag: Health and Wellbeing

November 3, 2017

weapons of warfare

October 27, 2017

It doesn’t have to be the blue iris

October 20, 2017

Moments

October 18, 2017

Still on my open-mic high

October 16, 2017

Monday Morning Sunshine

October 12, 2017

Evening Prayer

October 10, 2017

Taming my bad beast

October 9, 2017

Monday Sabbath

October 5, 2017

out of synch

October 3, 2017

The cost of endurance

Tag: Health and Wellbeing

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