This week has been one of he most remarkable and humbling ones of my life.
i have done all that I’ve needed to do by deadline and has some miraculous moments that are going to continue and build. Right now my heart has a tight ache around it. I wish that I were an empath and could invite someone in to feel what I am feeling. This is also why I create, to invite others into the worlds I create and experience.
Helping the resident and continuing to help him and see how much just one week of reading, care, and love can change people. It is besutiful snd exhilarating snd a bit scary and a lot humbling to see someone emerge into the world again. To see light and comprehension come into their eyes. Yesterday as I was reading to him he reached up to move my hand holding the book so he could see it. I was govsmacled. I was leaning against his right side holding his right hand with my left and holding the book in my right. It was the position necessary to read but it was also so intimate. I felt like I was reading to a dear friend, which in fact he is. It turns out he had a head injury and not the stroke and knowing that he and I both have this experience means we can relate in s way that no one save another dear friend who has had a TBI can. It’s like with alcoholics saying they feel they know everyone in the rooms because we all know how it is. That’s how it feels with this resident. I am planning on finding an old phone that still can work, charging it up, getting a pair of headphones so he can listen to books on tape of music.
It is humbling as I know that this experience is changing me. A lot. In good ways. It furthers my conviction in the choices I am making and the life I am meant to leave.
I wrote about the shamanic journey and Karen and my grandfather have been with me with some strength since then. My grandpa has always felt very close and now he fills like he’s in me. That the bit of his soul that he sent my way when he passed has been activated. His words to me where “observe and care” and I can just feel myself in Iowa In his lawn or porch of front steps watching things with him. I remember how carefully and precisely he did things. He had s calmness to him. And lord, I miss him so much even as I know he isn’t gone and he is part of me.
and Karen. Beloved Karen who I think about often and love and miss so much. In the shamanic journey She gave me the paint brush she gave me for my first painting and said “paint what you see” “look closely”
today at art Cho i was next to this Russian lady who had beautiful plein air paintings. When I first saw them I remember thinking or having the reaction of “i don’t think I could do that. Damn she’s good.” She was expressing some frustration to an organizer who heard her and then sort of walked away. So I started talking to her about what her frustrations were. I gave her my experience with art fairs. Price ranges were mentioned snd I remember thinking “I might be able to afford one” I kept on thinking and finally asked her. We agreed upon a price and started talking about who we learned from. She mentioned this amazing art teacher she had taken lessons from here in the 90s and it was KAREN!! She had taken lessons from Karen snd loves her like I do. She told me things that Karen told her snd i recognized the advice and could hear her saying it. And eventually I cracked and bought another. And I can see Karen’s teaching with the sensitivity in which color and shadows are used. Julia, the artist, is Russian and we both got emotional and teared up snd became friends. It is really beautiful that I have these two paintings of the landscape i was born i to, of my home that carry so much with them. I am learning that it is indeed true, out yourself in hps and snd things find you. These connections, this beauty, more than I could ever dream of.
This lady kept telling me that I should paint again. That Karen saw something in me and I should paint. I told her that I couldn’t conceptually channel paint like I can clay. And we were talking more and I began to see how I could. I think i need to pick up a paintbrush and go again. This is a strange and heady world.
So now it’s almost midnight and I am so full of love and wonder that my heart is aching a bit. As I get further and further down the woo woo train i am embracing and being ok with my belief that these people are here, heir spirits and mine are still in communion.
Yesterday i had a nice long, good chat with my brother. He and I are becoming more similar as my world becomes more centered.
so holy moly. I feel like tired content and mystified by it all. And smgoing to sleep. Nite