Our woodland garden

September in Ohio

Looking out my window

everything is growing fervently

towards summer’s decline

grass, trees, bushes, flowers, heavy with

pods, cones, and berries

harboring the womb of new seeds

September morphing into fall

and the stinkbug clinging to the screen

wasp pushing off into the air

spider in her house glistening just there

they fill their days of living

dormant eggs left behind

Pieces of sky

framed by branches lofty and low

puzzle for the gods

each leaf soon to be fitted

in dazzling shades of death

will find its place

within the world frame

this boxed set of jigsaw billions

reaching up and out to the sun

as we roll by again and again

Today earthshine lit the face

of August’s waning blue moon

while the sun glared hot

sharing the same sky

my aged body birthing a new year

the moon, the sun, and I, illuminated

by one light, our evolving puzzle

a never ending wholeness

falling into place.

This is my birthday month, and both my younger daughter flying in from NY state and her older sister’s family will help me celebrate when the time comes. It is a challenge for someone with my declining mobility to navigate to my daughter’s home 45 minutes away with a portable wheelchair even with a room arranged to accommodate my need for rest and privacy. I want to keep accomplishing this expedition as long as I possibly can. But as MS continues to erode my nervous system, I am grateful to be able to make the trek at all.

I was hoping that being in my early 70’s would finally bring my chronological age closer to my body’s apparent age. Alas, my body zooms ahead in its losses to bring me in line with my fellow residents in this Assisted Living Area who range from their late 80’s into their 100’s. We all work with what we have and I am right at home with our trusty wheelchairs and rollators and scooters to get us where we need to be.

Weather everywhere no longer fits our tidy memories. Here in Ohio, August was quite chilly requiring sweatshirts every morning, and now this first week of September is hovering around 90. People complain of an abnormal amount of heat or cold or wet or drought-like conditions, as if we were able to control it. We have managed to create global warming, but not to create clear pathways to redirect our efforts towards solving the results of the disastrous impact on our shared planet.

Adapting to change inside and out requires an ongoing maturation of honoring desires within the reality of what is or is not possible. Acceptance is always the first and most difficult step towards undergoing real change. All twelve-step programs know this, as do all therapists of any stripe, as do all spiritual and religious teachings. It is hard to accept loss of any kind. Loss hurts. But using it as the doorway to lasting change brings a deep relief as we line up with what is in our power to choose going forward. I finally had to accept I needed an electric wheelchair and now only use my rollater in my room when I am able. Releasing any idea of this being ‘a defeat of my will against my struggling body’ only makes sense. Embracing the change is now a joy and results in a little more freedom even as I still cannot sit up in it for very long.

Acceptance of, and adapting to, change in all aspects of our daily and planetary citizen’s lives requires wisdom that we are sorely lacking. Creating a doorway leading to necessary change is my hope for us all.

Turkey vulture…..Here is a poem I wrote two weeks ago.

August Blue

I was outside under an August blue sky.

I say that,

knowing I cannot possibly

share with you the

irreplaceable blue of

photons interpreted by me.

I could not label this color

sapphire, lapis, prussian, or bird feather blue,

cerulean, cobalt or aegean.

Perhaps I could offer 

Shattering Blue,

edges nuanced in the glowing bowl above.

Blue that submerged my eyes

drenched the emerald-green grass,

dead-stopping a friend

biking along our path

to recite a terrific poem

summoned on her phone

recalling the end of summer’s

final swim into

“dark waters of the unknown.”

Beneath the summoning blue a neighbor

looking forward to regrouping in

September, Monday morning  

deep dives, sitting with companions,

an intimate yearning for true blue connections.

The wild untethered blue

encompassing me and

the deer and her fawn at the pond

the turkey vultures spiraling

with commanding grace

uplifted by sturdy blue.

The engulfing awe of

infinitely expansive blue exultation

inside my bounded human heart.