Telling the Truth

connecting the dots of my life

Tag: the human condition

February 18, 2022

The Uses of Sorrow | Mary Oliver

Have you ever dreamed a poem? Here’s one from Mary Oliver. Short and to the point. My comments follow.

The Uses of Sorrow
(In my sleep I dreamed this poem)

Someone I loved once gave me
a box full of darkness

It took me years to understand
that this, too, was a gift.

© 2006 by Mary Oliver
Poem found in Thirst, p. 52
Published by Beacon Press

I first read Mary’s dream poem several years ago, then hurried on to the next page. I didn’t want to think about it. How could a box full of darkness be a gift?

In German, “das Gift” means poison. In some ways this blog was my way of beginning to take ‘das Gift’ seriously. When I began blogging, I agonized over what to say and how to say it. What was in my “box full of darkness,” and who gave it to me? Or, better put, who passed it on to me so that it became My Problem?

Sorrow isn’t a throw-away event, or series of events. As Mary Oliver says in the title, sorrow has its uses.

Nonetheless, real life doesn’t usually invite us to see a box full of sorrow as a true gift. Instead, we’re supposed to play the game ‘their way’ because that’s what the box of darkness is about. Put another way: It perpetuates the angst and anger of generations, without recognizing or fighting today’s poison. Easier all round for everyone, right?

Wrong. Understanding ‘das Gift’ as a true gift to be explored was and still is dangerous. Beginning to investigate the past brings an avalanche of consternation, anger, tears, honesty and humility. It dares me to turn my so-called gift into light. The kind that illuminates truth and empowers me to be the woman I am.

At this age, I’m still finding ‘stuff’ not yet examined from the box of poison passed on to me as a child and young adult. However, when I’m willing to step back and take a deep breath, I’m also able to take one more step in the right direction. For better and for worse, being in my elderly years means I have lots of material to work with, whether I like it or not.

Thanks again for stopping by. I’m doing quite well most days. Especially when I follow my heart instead of my head or my forever-lists of things to ‘do.’

Cheers!
Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 18 February 2022
Image found at pinterest.com

4 Comments
February 15, 2022

Old habits die hard

I’ve been thinking about this poem for several days. I wrote it two years ago, not expecting we would find ourselves in today’s mess. My comments follow.

The Resistance

Bursting dams explode
fueling unhinged tongues

Roiling water floods old landscapes
scarred beyond recognition

The end of this world collides
with the untimely birth
of a new world ruled by
winners of a rigged lottery

How shall we then live
with death-dealing word-bombs
hanging over our heads
seeking to silence the resistance?

I posted this poem in February 2020. That was after Mr. Trump’s loss to President Biden, and after the attack on both houses of Congress by followers of Mr. Trump. I considered myself then, as now, part of the resistance — not part of those who hoped to change the outcome of the 2020 Election.

We’re still living in the aftermath of this attack. We’ve become a country at war with itself. The war is about more than Covid masks and vaccinations, or even who won the 2020 Presidential Election.

It’s about what it means to be a law-abiding citizen of the United States, who gets to decide whether to obey the laws and requirements of citizenship, and how to deal with centuries of unequal justice.

In the end, it’s about perks that come or don’t come with money–gobs, a lot, some, or virtually none. Or what kind of attention your voice gets or does not get. Or what color your skin is, your gender, where and how you live, and whether you’re considered dispensable or not.

I don’t have answers. When I wrote this poem, I wasn’t thinking about the mess we’re in today. However, now as then, it’s still time to take risks on behalf of truth and justice. Like some of you, I was brought up in a family, religious organizations, and workplaces that expected me to sit down and keep my poor white female mouth shut.

Thanks for reading and doing what you can on behalf of truth and justice for All.
Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 15 February 2022
“The Resistance” was first published on 6 February 2020
Photo of bursting dam found at pinterest.com

10 Comments
February 10, 2022

all things considered

Olympic National Park, Ozette Triangle Trail

all things considered
I’d rather be a giant
with scars and deep roots

paths through dense forests
age quickly minus upkeep
or handrails for guests

lush green and daylight
create a silent backdrop
alive with birdsong

I’m captivated regularly by photos that document the beauty (and sometimes conundrums) of nature and our way of relating to it. I also wonder what these beautiful photos represent at this real-time moment in our Climate and Pandemic Change Journey as inhabitants of Planet Earth.

I’m heartened by simple photos like the one above. Small markers and reminders of what we might still become: students of trees, mountains, rivers, oceans, and wildlife. Each trying to tell us something about ourselves and our relationships with Mother Earth, with our histories, and with each other.

Today the sun is out, and we’re promised mild temperatures this afternoon. Maybe the last remnants of snow will finally melt!

Happy Thursday and thank you for stopping by.
Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 10 February 2022
Photo of Olympic National Park found at pinterest.com

7 Comments
February 7, 2022

noisy silence

noisy silence
invades the old woman’s ears
cars cruise past her sleeping house
on their way to nowhere

darkness falls heavy
over her weary body
aching for mercy
and lovely songs that linger
through long nights
of farewell

Yesterday was a spectacular day. A grand mix of icy cold, beautiful sun, and a hint that we might be on a warming trend. My various body parts cooperated quite well so that I felt almost normal. Until late evening.

Something about evening can bring out pain and tears. True to form, last night my body reminded me that it’s still there and it isn’t getting any younger. Even so, it was a beautiful day–the kind that felt almost normal.

When it was time to sleep and my body objected, I went into my office, opened a notebook, and wrote whatever came to mind, including the first version of the poem above. Then I went to bed and promptly fell asleep.

Today isn’t nearly as spectacular as yesterday. Nonetheless, I’m grateful for another day on this earth with family members, friends, D, Smudge, and each of you, of course. Thanks for stopping by!

Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 7 February 2022
Photo found at wallpaperaccess.com

7 Comments
February 2, 2022

Good News and three choice photos

Good News! I am not a candidate for the health challenge no one wants to face: hypogammaglobulinemia.

So I’m back to floor exercises to help ease pain in my legs and feet, walking, playing the piano, writing, resting as needed, and eating mostly vegan food on behalf of my heart and kidneys. Peripheral neuropathy and osteoarthritis in my lower spine are more than enough for now. That, plus the reality that the end of my life keeps approaching, one day and night after another.

Just for fun, above and below are three recent photos of Christmas cheer and Smudge. D took the photo at the top; I took the rest with my iPad. Am I besotted with Smudge? Yes, indeed! Especially when he’s behaving well.

Checking out the Costco box

Drowsy on our heated waterbed

Cheers to each of you!
Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 2 February 2022
Top photo taken by DAFraser; photos of Smudge taken by ERFraser

10 Comments
January 31, 2022

yesterday’s gifts

Each new morning
I wake and bid farewell
To yesterday’s gifts

What was tomorrow
Stretches like infinity
Beyond human scope

Imagination
Feasts on luscious dreams rising
Only to vanish

How quickly life ebbs
Leaving poignant reminders
Of yesterday’s gifts

These days I’m keenly aware of my age and how quickly my health is changing. This week I’ll get a report from my hematologist on my most recent blood tests. D is going with me. I don’t know whether the news will be positive or negative. I only know it’s related to my newly diagnosed nondiabetic peripheral neuropathy.

In the meantime, I’m consciously practicing what doesn’t come easily for me: living one day at a time. The relief has been great, especially when it comes to obsessing about outcomes.

Several days ago I came to the end of the day without having played one note on the piano. It was time to be on my way to bed. I was in the kitchen, exhausted, and about to turn off the lights and go upstairs when I realized I had a choice. I went into the living room, turned on the lights, got out a favorite hymnal, and played my heart out. Then I packed it in for the day, more than a bit teary.

No, it didn’t solve everything. The next day had its own challenges. But just making that unplanned decision flipped a switch in me that I’ve rarely used. The switch called Do What You Want to Do. Right Now. You may not have another opportunity.

Praying you’ll find courage and strength to take care of yourself today.
Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 31 January 2022
Image found at medium.com

5 Comments
January 28, 2022

unwelcome truths

Protests are never enough
Banners prod but don’t produce solutions
Anger spills from hot microphones
Releasing age-old frustrations
Captured in picture-perfect news clips

What-next moments reveal unwelcome truths
Weary eyes beg for sleep
So little energy today
Dreams are easier to entertain
Than cruel realities on the ground

As a white woman, I often find myself at a loss. What to do? What not to do? Do ‘they’ (whoever ‘they’ happen to be on any given day) really want my input or partnership? Maybe I’m barking up the wrong tree. Perhaps I should take care of my own unexamined business as the white woman I am.

Right from the top, I’d say taking care of my own business isn’t just a ‘good’ thing to do. It’s a radically necessary part of becoming human regardless of my color, upbringing, beliefs, privileges, or trauma.

Nonetheless, the challenge brings up deeper issues of race, class, color, creed, privilege, political inclinations, and a lot more.

I can’t be everyone. I can only be myself. Which is a crazy thing to acknowledge, given my nearly life-long obsession with being the woman someone else thought I should be. Making you happy about me would somehow make me happy about myself. As though I’d finally ‘found’ myself.

However, I began finding myself only after I stopped trying to be the polite human female others thought I should be. Retirement and old age (78 and counting) have been tough taskmasters. My options for helping change the world are diminishing.

Given the options, I’ve chosen global climate change as a way of bringing together multiple issues. Or, to put it another way, without global climate change, other social and global issues won’t have a chance of being addressed. This includes Race, Gender, Refugees, War, Poverty, Crop Survival, Water Rights, Hoarding of Riches, Gun Violence, Voting Rights, Pandemics and more.

What does this mean for me? It means doing what I can to acknowledge the high price climate change has imposed on those with the least resources. More on that in another post. Right now it’s time to get this baby in the pipeline and eat lunch!

Cheers!
Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 28 January 2022
Photo found at nationalgeographic.com

4 Comments
January 25, 2022

Why we’re still here

fingers float across keys
singing of faith –
yours, mine, ours –
it doesn’t matter
in these days of
crawling and flying
at lightning speed
through one day
and night to the next
wondering
where time went,
what is happening to us,
and why we’re still here

Maybe it’s my age. Or too many memories. Or the weariness of watching one opportunity after another wither or go up in ashes.

Still, I believe we’re here for a reason. Not to sit on the sidelines, but to get involved in small or large ways as we’re able. Perhaps that’s the best answer to why I’m still here. How about you?

Thanks for stopping by today.
Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 25 January 2022
Photo of drought in California found at cnn.com

11 Comments
January 22, 2022

One day at a time

This morning I opened my email to find Elizabeth Elliot’s quote above, sent by a friend of many years. It wasn’t all prettied up with a photo. It was, however, precisely on time.

For about a year now I’ve been living with part of my eye and mind on the present, and the rest, especially my emotions, on the future. Not a bright future, but dread of what my body was trying to tell me about my health.

Last summer my integrative doctor recognized my symptoms, and immediately referred me to a neurologist. I imagined getting an appointment quickly. That wasn’t the way it worked out, so I had a good month and a half to continue living in the future.

Fast forward to yesterday and the post about my health. No more than two hours after I hit ‘publish’ I got a call saying the upcoming appointment with my hematologist had to be changed. I was blown away. Waiting just one more week felt like the last straw.

I’ve been a ‘one day at a time’ woman since my 40s. Yet in the midst of difficult life-changing realities, I quickly capitulate to what might happen tomorrow or next month. I don’t blame myself for this. I do, however, realize yet again how difficult it is to live ‘one day at a time.’ Especially when there’s so much going on in our aging bodies and souls that needs attention.

The temperature last night was frigid. I slept fairly well, all things considered. Today the sun is out, and I’m looking forward to the rest of this day for which I am responsible. As Elizabeth Elliot puts it, “God still owns tomorrow.” It will come soon enough.

Thanks again for stopping by!
Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 22 January 2022
Elizabeth Elliot quote found at quotefancy.com

4 Comments
January 21, 2022

Health and Well-Being Update | Peripheral Neuropathy+

The last several months felt like a never-ending hike in the dark. Not knowing. Waiting. Getting bits and pieces of information, but not the whole pie. Which would likely be liver and okra pie—my worst nightmare foods when I was a child!

  1. Seriously, I know more than I did a month ago. Yes, I have peripheral neuropathy. But where is it coming from?
  2. Thanks to the MRI in late December, I now know it’s coming from osteoarthritis in my lower spine.
  3. The pain in my feet can be eased by several simple and challenging exercises. As a religious person and because I’m able to do so, I’m religiously practicing the art of stretching and strengthening my lower back.
  4. The pain in my feet and legs is worse when weather fronts move in along with frigid wind, snow, sleet, and ice. Ironically, sudden changes in air pressure coincide with burning in my legs and feet. Especially at night.
  5. Walking is an excellent way to get circulation going in my lower legs and feet. I walk almost every day come rain or shine, thanks to an open first-floor plan, a radio, and my wi-fi headphones.
  6. Open-toe sandals are comforting to my feet, along with soft, warm knee-high diabetic socks. I am not diabetic.
  7. I have a serious problem with fatigue. Morning energy quickly dissolves into weariness.

Next week I’ll see my hematologist. Based on the outcome of bloodwork he ordered a month ago, he will tell me whether I’m a candidate for a health issue at least as difficult as peripheral neuropathy. D will be with me so that we hear this news together.

That’s my report for now. I’m taking this one day at a time: laughing or crying when I feel like it, lying down for short naps as needed, playing the piano, listening to music, watching the birds, and sticking to my super-healthy diet.

Praying this finds each of you in reasonably good health.
Elouise♥

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 21 Jan 2021
Photo found at pinterest.com

12 Comments