My mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s in 2006. She made her final transition last week, after years of inhabiting both this world and the world beyond. This poem is for you Mom:
Daughter of the Mother
I am the daughter of the mother who sees beneath
Raven’s eye shows me the way through
To the other side where down is up
And time can stand still
Until the time is right.
I am the daughter of the mother who sings in my bones
Flooded Highway 36 in Lyons, CO September 12, 2013
I was one of the lucky ones; our house was on high ground and didn’t get damaged by the flooding in Lyons, Colorado. But my family still had to evacuate and spend a month moving between various hotels in Longmont, CO. The entire town of Lyons lost sewer, water and gas service. And it still hasn’t been restored.
A few lessons I learned from the flood:
1. Mother Nature is in charge. We humans can fool ourselves for awhile, but when push comes to shove, nature rules.
2. People are amazingly kind-hearted. I saw so much compassion and caring in Lyons in the days and weeks after the flood. My heart continues to overflow with gratitude and joy for all the acts of kindness, both big and small that I witnessed.
3. Not having a place to go home to sucks. Just this tiny taste of homelessness gave me huge compassion for people who spend months or years living in their cars or on the streets. Not having a home is truly nerve wracking.
4. I love Lyons, Colorado! The town is still a complete mess, but I want to be part of this community.
5. Stress can literally kill you. Our 3 1/2 year old male cat Raja didn’t make it through a month of being away from home. Even though he was staying with an amazing friend, Raja got so stressed that he stopped eating. Good bye, buddy! I hope you’re now hunting and sunning in cat heaven.
6. Flowing water can transform the landscape in a matter of minutes. The St Vrain river valley that I have loved and walked and photographed is now a different place.
After the Flood
Water does NOT submit to human control. We can dam it up, and try to stop it, but we should NEVER forget that water is born to flow. And it will continue to flow whether we humans like it or not! Water will NOT be controlled.
7. Flow never stops; Each drop of water on planet earth is on a flowing journey that never ends. This visual of the ocean’s currents, gives us a hint of just how amazing water’s flowing journey truly is:
And my own journey continues; My husband and I spent days searching for a new place to roost without any results. Then, due to the kindness of my favorite realtor, Mark Webber, we rented a great house on the edge of Lyons. This one has a septic system and well (!) AND a kick ass view:
Blue Mountain
Was this experience good? or bad? Like the old Buddhist story goes, it’s still too soon to tell…
Now we will count to twelve and we will all keep still.
This one time upon the earth, let’s not speak any language, let’s stop for one second, and not move our arms so much.
It would be a delicious moment, without hurry, without locomotives, all of us would be together in a sudden uneasiness.
The fishermen in the cold sea would do no harm to the whales and the peasant gathering salt would look at his torn hands.
Those who prepare green wars, wars of gas, wars of fire, victories without survivors, would put on clean clothing and would walk alongside their brothers in the shade, without doing a thing.
What I want shouldn’t be confused with final inactivity: life alone is what matters, I want nothing to do with death.
If we weren’t unanimous about keeping our lives so much in motion,
if we could do nothing for once, perhaps a great silence would interrupt this sadness, this never understanding ourselves and threatening ourselves with death, perhaps the earth is teaching us when everything seems to be dead and then everything is alive.
Now I will count to twelve and you keep quiet and I’ll go.
A huge thunderstorm brews just over the horizon as I take a wonder walk at Wonderland Lake. Thunder rumbles on the ridge, yet the lake is still, perfectly still. Reflections of the foothills play on the surface of the water. The air is charged with magic potential. My mind stills. I remember a passage from one of my favorite books:
The silence is all there is. It is the alpha and the omega. It is God’s brooding over the face of the waters; it is the blended note of the ten thousand things, the whine of wings.”
“To learn to see, to learn to hear, you must… Go into the wilderness alone. For it is not I who teach you the ways of the Gods. Such things are learned only in solitude.”
