Archives for category: Illness

EstherandElizabeth, 6 years old birthdayliz near end 1
Full of Days

I am old and full of days, and I know this because I get gift certificates in the mail, small bordered, blue; staccato messages to me approaching a distinctly marked age, as not like my twin’s age of 68 when her soul pierced the body’s shell and flew onward and upward, and when I had a feeling or wrote something like, “We will see each other once again -against the dark space and within the illumined lands of God, and we will remember our days as three year olds, sitting on tricycles of resplendent fire engine red and sturdy wheels, not yet aware of the rivets and tunnels we would face in our growth as twins and as souls, an intertwining of hate and love.

Fraternal twins. She from my father’s stock, the ones that produced fine men and maybe a sister or two who vaulted into business, and he, our father who was very much on earth, despaired at his life, the alcoholic wife, the kids like cartoon blocked figures with hair all over them, reminiscent of cave days, as witnessed by their teenage grunts from, “Where are you going?” and their toned and chanted response, emitting from their closed lips, “Out.” And indeed they went out.

The older girl, older in months; neighbors say they are all Irish twins, born within so many months of the other, tskk, tskkk. The older sister, yeah, you know the one who won the Margaret O’Brien Look Alike contest in Boston? Oh yeah her, she went out, out indeed.

She conceived a child as she melted into the arms of her teenage lover, the one who laughed and came from a poverty so cruel, and she was sent away to a home for pregnant girls, and all I can say is, “Thank God, she didn’t live in Ireland,” the Ireland of the Magdalene Sisters, in whose convent, young girls of impure type were housed in terror. For it was a time of sheer cement walls and slaves blending in, Irish girl slaves, those who might have had an impure thought or wrested themselves away from a pushy boy, or better yet, did the dirty deed and used the portion of her body referred to as “down there.”

Out also went the twins who by this time had finished throwing pitchforks and ice choppers at one another, but who had graduated to nasty, slime-ridden comments, of “I’m not sitting in the car, next to Esther,” or she, of the famous Hebrew Queen’s name, ran away from the Randall G. Morris Elementary black tarred school yard before Liz could cream her, she ran blocks and darted through the back door of the twelve- room house on Fernwood Road, in West Roxbury, and double locked the old brass locks against an avenging twin.

Not quite like the caves and battles of Beowulf and Grendel, but darn, didn’t Liz thrust her fist through a small paned window and reach down and unlock both locks and burst in and pin the curled up Esther into the coat rack of old winter coats and jackets?

And then that twin and her queen-named counterpart would, miraculously at twenty-one, be kind to one another. The catalyst for such kindness was a brain stem injury on behalf of our sports figure, Liz, of the mighty fist, which rendered her, well let’s just say, “Rendered her.” From those days of miraculous recovery, a mother had died, the father remarried, the sister gone and married; the brother disappearing and last heard was a used car salesman. We proceeded to fill the pages of our lives and we would always help each other out in a crisis. One day of cumulus clouds in Caldwell, Idaho, she passed on, at age 68 of cancer. The first bracket of the hyphenated, “tell-the-twins,” passed, piercing the body’s shell, her soul going on, leaving husks of giant blades of a sad, sad life, but at peace and loving her boys, one who would marry a pure soul and produce golden children, but that is another story.

The story is now 7-8 years later, I, Esther, who was born twelve minutes later, am approaching that demarcation known as “Full of pages of life,” of skin like parchment paper, but also of still ever sturdy hips.

And so this has turned out to be a prose poem, for what does the poet do? They pierce the state of the mundane and rise to astonishment as words from an unseen ocean spill and spill out onto the earth of one’s mind.

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Stevenleocampbell.wordpress.com-Thank you Steven!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

He  gave out Reader Appreciation Awards to 7 people – My blog was one of them!

I Googled the award today, looking for the bright sunflower, and didn’t find its source. So Reader, this is what I think it is.  We bloggers, who run across out computer keys at night when the earth sleeps, play word games in the velvet ether of the night, toss out sorrows, hug happiness, create metaphoric mountains and potholes, and all the while race towards the world and each other in a prepublishing, I’m going to publish this tomorrow on WordPress!  We all fall into this category.  We who blog.  Those who read blogs.  Both, all, none, many.

The rules of the Reader Appreciation Award:

1. Include the award logo somewhere in your blog – check center photo above.  Ta da!!

2. Answer 10 questions (listed below) for fun if you want to.

3. Nominate 6 or 10 to 12 blogs you enjoy

4.  Provide the links to these blogs and let them know they’ve been nominated

5.  Provide a link to the blogger(s) who nominated you —- http://stevenleocampbell.wordpress.com

10 Questions and my answers for the Reader Appreciation Award

1.  What is your favorite color?

The color of the current book I am reading, or the wine colored cover of Gleanings, Baha’i Writings.

2. What is your favorite animal – no need for me to answer; everyone who reads this post will roar back.  Pug Dogs.

3.  What is your favorite non-alcoholic drink?

Lemonade, don’t drink Alcohol

4.  Facebook or Twitter

FB, my home away from home, the entrace to the train station called my life!

5.  Favorite patterns?

Pattern of oneness and connectedness in relations throughout the globe.

6.  Do you prefer getting or giving presents?

Giving, giving.

7.  Favorite number?

Nine (9)

8.  Favorite day of  the week?

Wednesday

9.  Favorite flower?

Purple Iris

10.  What is your passion?

Giving people opportunities to discover and/or develop their voice – teaching creative writing.

My 8 nominations for the Reader Appreciation Award:

http://normanpickles.blogspot.com/  – Pugs, pugs, and more pugs.  Enchanting when the heart is orphaned      and one’s physical space not allowed this type of 4 legged package of      entitlement.

http://pagesforsmallwages.wordpress.com/  Gwendolyn McIntyre – perceptions on      writing, life, things that go bump, keep the writer going!

http://www.bahaithought.com   Phillipe Copeland is author of the blog, “Baha’i Thought” which offers commentary on issues of religion, society, and culture based on the teachings of the Baha’i Faith.

http://mrslittlejeans.blogspot.com/,      mrslittlejeans is a scientist and offers enchanting views of her two      felines, photographs of same, and a sharing of mystic perceptions.

http://writingasasacredpath.blogspot.com/   Jill Jepson – I have her book, the back cover of which reads in part, “Discover the Soul of Writing,” writing medications, prompts, rituals, exercises all drawn from traditions of Buddhist monks, Navajo storytellers, and much more.

.http://www.studiomorran.com/  Studio Morran, dogs, crafts, art, visual whimsy!

http://gerrygwilson.com/about/  A published writer, writing teacher of note, an encourager to all

http://whimsygizmo.wordpress.com/  prolific poet, enchantress with words …

http://wordrustling.wordpress.com/  metaphors and smiles – enchanting poetry-Hannah Gosselin

http://swthink.blogspot.com/  so whatcha think  – Brooke Ryter – a book, an impact, soon to be revealed – check it out.

http://arachnoidcystsupport.blogspot.com 

Maria McCutchen has written a book, It’s All in Your Head, and I think her story should be widely read.  I’ll show image. I got my book at Alibris, an online bookstore, which sometimes has prices less than Amazon.  At any price, this is an important book.

http://lublenok.blogspot.com/  Leonid’s World  is the name of his blog.  We met him inMinsk when we gave English Club sessions.  He’s fascinating, innovative, and dear, and he speaks of past history and his family.

Love and best wishes to all.

Monday Discovery: Esther Bradley-DeTally.

Lynne Hippler and I participated in a remote viewing/healing process about a week ago, on me, the happy subject.  What follows will dip into that type of therapy. Perhaps I should mention, I was a 4 pound baby, had a heart quirk (2 aortic valve openings, instead of 3) which was discovered when I was 53 (smile).  I have done traditional and alternative healing for years.  First one in family to get the childhood diseases, had Mono twice, and when 42, returning to the University, had Epstein Barr Virus, which the medical profession didn’t acknowledge.  What followed were hilarious essays way after the fact.  I was single mom with obstreperous but wonderful young boy, living on campus with him, going to school, hanging in.  I had sold everything to go back to school.  Immune system plague followed me for years.  It liked me, what can I say.  Went to Russia/Ukraine/Belarus, a dip in Siberia.  Home, stenosis of aortic valve, and more, too much to mention.  Health returns through surgery, antidepressents, a good psychiatrist, rolfing, walking, fresh air of Seattle, and a loving husband.  I have had other sagas, but that’s for another day.  So I am pretty much like an old engine which keeps on chugging, and help is found in varied ways.  Below is one of these ways.  I hope you enjoy.

Esther:  You read my Without A Net, a Sojourn in Russia and emailed me.  It turns out we have mutual friends.  I offered to send you my second book You Carry the Heavy Stuff, and then you said you would like to thank me for the book by giving me a remote treatment from where you live, in Norway. Mind you, I am in Pasadena. (Readers:  I have lung and heart stuff, and toot around like a good used truck).Of course I said yes because I’ve done a lot of body work and this intrigued me.

Esther:  Do you have a definition of your practice?

 Lynne:  I give alternative treatments, both onsite and remote.  I’m a Registered Nurse and Zone Therapist, and I’ve helped to form The Norwegian Healer Association and was a member of their first board. 

Lynne: I’ve worked since 1984 in the alternative field.  The methods I use are:  Zone Therapy, Healing, Nutritional Counseling, Energy Balancing, Caring and Counseling Conversation, Electric Acupuncture, Stones and Crystals, Affirmations and Visualizations, Bach Flower Remedies, and Remote Treatments.

 Esther:  You also give remote treatments for animals don’t you?

Lynne:  My intention is to help people and animals to get balanced and feel better.

Esther: I had a Rolfer who practiced on horses.  I called him “Mr. Thumb” because he had so much strength in his hands.  I was Rolfed months after open heart surgery, and it was exceedingly helpful.

Lynne:  Yes, Rolfing has a lot to offer.

Esther:  How did you get started in this type of practice?

Lynne:  It all started when I was working as a nurse in a hospital in Hammerfest,  Norway.  One day, while assisting a patient into a wheelchair, I injured my back.  I had difficulty sitting for a while, and while I was attending my Saami language class (the Saamis are the indigenous peoples of the North Calotte), a friend sitting next to me said, “You should contact my sister.  She’s the only Zone Therapist in Finnmark (the most northern part of Norway).  I did, and after six treatments, I was much improved.  Soon after this I moved to the eastern part of Finnmark to Tana.

While there, I started having problems with my stomach and was sent to the hospital three times.  While in the hospital, I had the good fortune of getting acquainted with a resident doctor who got to know me and then told me to, “Go home and heal yourself.”  And, I did.  Still, I knew that I didn’t know enough, and in fact hardly knew anything at all.  So I contacted the Zone Therapist who lived inHammerfestand said I wanted to become a Z.T.  I asked where she had gone to school.  She gave me the name of her instructor and the school in Oslo.  I applied and was admitted to a 2-year course of study.  I graduated in 1986.  During that time I also learned how to use the pendulum (The pendulum measures energy, i.e. you place it over an area and note which direction it rotates and how large the circle is. This tells you about the energy of the object).  My instructor said, “You have warm hands.  My instructor was also a homeopath, so we learned about homeopathy too.

Esther:  Do you practice this inNorway?

Lynne:  Yes I do, as well in Sweden, Finland, and the States when I am visiting in those countries, or if people want a remote treatment.

Esther:  What are your other interests, professions?

Lynne:  I received a B.S. degree from the University Of  Iowa (USA) in Therapeutic Recreation in 1966.  During my years inEurope I became a Registered Nurse and a Zone Therapist, as well as studied various other forms of alternative treatment.  I was also a member of the first board for The Norwegian Healer Association.

Esther:  Can you give the reader an image or two of what you experience when you view someone from afar? 

Lynne:  When I am doing a remote treatment, I need it to be quiet around me.  I try to create a spiritual atmosphere, and I want to be open to the guidance that comes to me. 

Esther:  I now know they should be lying down quietly, just breathing in and out, calm, and no disturbances.  I tweaked that a bit, but was in a good tranquil space.

Lynne:  Yes.  It is important to have a quiet atmosphere around the person receiving the treatment. It’s also very important that there are no electrical devices close by, i.e., TV, radio, microwave, computer, etc.  They can emit electrical energy that gets in the way of what I am trying to do.  For the same reason, it is important not to eat or drink during the treatment, because the body should be free to receive what is happening and not have other duties to take care of, i.e. if you are giving it food or drink to deal with.

Esther: So take us down the reader path of remote viewing, healing from afar. 

Lynne:   In addition to what I said above, I try to be as open as possible to receive the necessary guidance and then do what seems right. Nothing is planned ahead of time. At the end of the treatment I use muscle testing (kinesiology) to test if there are any affirmations, exercises, diets, etc. that would be helpful to assist in “getting balanced and feeling better”. These are sent in an email to the person who received the treatment. I also encourage people to contact me by email if they have any questions or comments.

Esther: You may use me as an example if you wish.

Lynne:   I don’t discuss what I specifically do during any treatment.

Esther:  Why are you in Norway?

Lynne:   That’s a long story…..The short version is that I decided to move toFinland in 1973, after having become a Baha’i in 1971. At the time I had never been out of North America and I felt there was a lot out there in the world that I could do and experience and many friends out there waiting to be met.

I lived in Finland from 1973-1980, graduating from nurses’ school in 1980. Things worked out in such a way that I moved to Norwayafter I graduated, because some friends suggested that I might like to live in Norway. So, I moved. I have always been open to new and different ways to do things, etc.

I have been a Norwegian citizen since 1985.

Esther:  What are your hopes for the future?

Lynne:  I very much enjoy living in Norway.  It is my home now, so I can’t imagine moving to another country. As far as how I live the rest of my life, I hope I can be useful to others as long as I can, in whatever ways I can, and to enjoy life to the fullest!

Esther: Any other comments?

Lynne:  I’m glad that I bought your first book, Without a Net: A Sojourn in Russia.  That’s why I got in touch with you, and now here I am sharing with others through you. Very interesting how things work out, isn’t it?

Esther:  What other types of work do you do?

I also do translations from Norwegian to English, in case that is of interest to anyone. While I was in the States from 1996-2006 I did some work with genealogy – letters and books that people, originally from Norway, wanted translated.

If people would like to contact me, here is my website: http://www.behandlingsplassen.no.

Lynne:  Below is the text of the email I send out to people who are interested in a remote treatment:

This is how my remote treatments work:

We agree what day and time of day we will have the treatment.

($XX USD or $XX CD is deposited into my account.

You send me an email when this has been done, and then I do the remote treatment at the agreed upon time. Most people experience that it is best to be quiet during the treatment,

i.e. to lie down, just like you would during a physical treatment.

Please turn off computers, radios, TV’s, etc. The treatment lasts one hour.

Usually there are some treatment suggestions I have after the treatment,

and I will email those to you.

If you have any questions or comments, please email those to me: Lynnehi9@live.com

My bank account in Washington Mutual Bank/Chase,Palm Desert,

California is: 440 2088 060.

Thank-you for your interest,

Lynne Hippler

Jon Klæbosv. 1 C

8019 Bodø

Norge/Norway

47 786-03744

Website:   www.behandlingsplassen.no

(Reader, I experienced a state of calm, but towards the end of my session, I felt enormous fatigue.  Her advice to me was right on, and I might add, exceedingly helpful.  Healing is a process, and I’m glad I was part of this process.

an odyseey harrowing and yet incredible

a journey of illness, misdiagnosis, conundrums and courage

Maria McCutchen, a stay-at-home mother with two young children and a tight schedule, couldn’t find the dairy section of her local supermarket one day.  After the usual questions women ask themselves, about stress, being over tired, or I’m imagining this, she asked her husband one night, “Squeeze my head,” and he does.

Her head ached, and her head also felt like a water balloon pumped full of water, a sense of building pressure.  He wrapped his hands around her head, and he squeezed.  Her thoughts became more clear, and she felt better.  He stopped and a feeling of flood water filled her skull, and her brain fog returned.

She consulted a mild, quiet and pleasant doctor.  He will be the first of many.  She answered the questions, and then follows a routine she will learn by heart:  “Stick your tongue out, smile, hold your hands out in front of you like you’re carrying a pizza and close your eyes.”  Ah, and she also walked across the floor of his miniscule office. Long story short, after an MRI, and a call the very next day, “We see something,” the doctor’s voice matter-of-fact, offering no more or no less says, “I need you to come in.”

She had a cisterna magna, a posterior fossa arachnoid cyst. But the doctor was not concerned, words such as “benign” and “unremarkable” floated over her head.  Moments later, a handshake, and a “You’re fine,” because you see most people are born with type of cyst and they don’t cause problems.  She returned home wondering, what if I’m the exception?  No time for that.  Her husband lost his job.  Their insurance will run out.

Fast forward to  a harrowing pain-filled drive to live in New Mexico, episodic endurance of brain tests done incorrectly, dismissal of her symptoms, suspicion by doctors and blatant repudiation of her illness.  Lace that in with family concern, trying to raise 2 kids, keep a family together, and obliterating pain, agony, nausea, you name it, but then, she finally finds a doctor in Arizona.  He will recommend brain surgery.  the tests before, during and after are trauma filled and painful, and there will be trouble in River City after her brain surgery.  But still she reassured herself that she’s in the hands of a good neurosurgeon specialist in neurology in Arizona.  She must, however, return to New Mexico.  More happened.

I sat down after 7 o’clock last night to read this book.  I got up at 12.30 noting, “I’m up too late again,” but I had finished the book.  I didn’t move.  I sat on my black leather couch in our small pool house turning page after page.

The unsaid around her struggles reveals a very courageous, loving, gutsy woman in extreme pain, with great times of hopeless and yet a warrior spirit.  That makes a noble being in my book.

Her account is well written.  I think this book should go viral.  Yeah, I just broadened my blog base, and here I am using trendy terms, go viral, but the bloggers and FBers out there will know.

It’s All in Your Head – Maria McCutchen.  Copyright (c), Tate Publishing, LLC.

http://www.creativewritenow.com

280 pages – $15.99 (paperback)
$9.99 (digital download)

from You Carry the Heavy Stuff, Lulu.com/Amazon, the author’s garage….. ISBN 978-0-557-20933-0-essays, poetry, observations from a twin’s dying to cubicle despair in a corporate world with voices of buoyant pathos, mystical reverence – you catch my drift

Why do I write?  Like now, when the dishes sit orphaned in the kitchen sink because I, the washer, am typing, sharing, breathing, living, putting off the inevitable, because once a long time ago, I was so hurt, I couldn’t breathe.  I carried that hurt with me forever, until I found out that sensitivity is the price and the prize for being able to write, for being able to read people, to Braille the unsaid.  I write to a lady in prison, who said “I liked a phrase you wrote, “The language of God is a tear running down someone’s cheek.”

I write because I read, insatiably, gobbling, inhaling, filling myself with the human condition; splat on the floor some days, like a big old squishy bug, flattened, dead, its body swept up by old straws on a broom; and then I write to show the magic of St. Theresa’s Snow Queen Altar when I was young, and how everything looked like a wedding cake, and I write to tell how when I was younger, and so needy I could have impaled myself on a stake wide and big, sort of like a meta-letter holder, except the stake would run through my insatiably needy heart, and a note on my back would read “loves too much,” and that was before the book Women Who Love Too Much.

I write because I have gone beyond Medieval Posts puncturing my despair and loneliness and have decided Men Who Love too Much is here too.  Maybe we all love too much, and I write because maybe none of us love too much, for we are told by images in advertising, that we should be thin, jaded in the eyes, like the look of models for Vogue or whatever, who probably could shoot up heroin on their lunch hours, and because despair is trendy and nihilism and materialism and not giving a damn might be the language of the hour.  But then there is the lonely, little, big, young, old, trembling, brassy, you-catch-my-drift-writer who writes because he or she must, and words have a visceral effect upon her, him, the dog, the surrounding room.  I write of hopes for the world, and a good ham sandwich or description thereof on a sour dough roll, with slabs of mayo, and a bed of lettuce, and curled pink ham,  ready to go into someone’s mouth which is opened to the size of half a ladder, is  a good thing, a good description.

What this nation needs is a good ham sandwich and a Pepsi without the aspartame and some down to honest to goodness honesty that is the natural condition to communicate, to be real, to be afraid of bugs in knotty pine walls when the walls come alive at night; to watch an elderly blind woman, clutch the corners of her walker, take a breath and remain a sweet sweet spirit, knowing that her condition, her tests are the divinely calibrated kind, even though trucks have run over her emotionally, and I write to tell of the anonymous amongst us, the bravery, the small acts of courage, kindness in this nation where the world is narcissistically checking its derriere in the mirror, and no one or precious few are listening to the “midnight sighing of the poor,” and where we must have immense courage and speak up; talk, yeah, walk the talk, be it; speak up; tell future generations who we were, wanted to be, became anyhow and our hopes for the future; because someday we will all be sensitive, spiritually inclined, aware of our oneness,  and otherness will go on a back shelf like Twinkies, no longer approved of by the American Heart Association, and writing will be celebrated by hoots and hollers and a piping or two from a medieval horn or Siberian throat, and the arts will have a way of grabbing our soul’s innards and carrying us through the day.  These are some of the reasons I write, but there are others, but today is Wednesday and those are my Wednesday’s writing reasons.

Yooo Hoooo Monday, where are you?  Drat, ack, eek.  I lost you.  “I forgot” can be applied to homework, like because my dog ate my homework, I can’t turn it in, or I just discovered I can’t speak Esperanto easily, or I’m not Celtic, Mayan, Troll-like, I can’t turn it in.  Doing this blog is not like homework.  I respond to Pili Pili Saka, the moment his blog comes up.  I’m like an orangy labrador, and I get a whiff of something coming to my territory.  My head lifts from the floor, my cold nose moves up and down microscopically, and then, there it is, Pili Pili Saka. 

Forgot, day swept by with fantastic emails about my book, my participation in a Wilmette Study Course, and an email from dear friend who wrote blurb on back of You Carry the Heavy Stuff.  Mikey likes it; even pili pili compared my writing to a French writer.  Reader, i slid under my desk, yes, by the dust, and the brick, red if you want to know, placed carefully over my email connection link, so as not to disturb and keep me connected.  Such is the old wiring in this incredible little pool house.  Be still my heart.

Yesterday, they filmed Mad Men down the street; I swear I posted that; have to check it out.  At any rate, Bill went to neuro guy who was incredibly thorough and wonderful – it seems severe allergy attack, plus benign positional veritgo, plus anxiety about being so dizzy sick, caused his adrenal responses to shoot up and thus the shakes.  Wow, and now we will go towards solutions!  We are relieved.

Okay I finished a book, The Man From Saigon, a novel, Marti Leimbach, a gripper, writing incredible.  It turns out this writer went to MFA program in Irvine, and that’s where when I began writing, I took classes from Oakley Hall and the other guy, Donald, can’t remember his name, and Roberta….. and it tricked into my curly brain and heart, and i began writing.  Showing, telling, using strong verbs, always 3 at the time.  I never do things lightly.  I’ve pulled back to 1 verb usage, find myself more moderate these days

I am going to reserve Dying Young and Daniel Isn’t Talking by the same author, although part of me shudders to think of adding more books to my list.  While you’re at it, throw in Jesse Ventura’s new book; forget title, yes Jesse Ventura.  He was a Navy Seal and he taught at Harvard, and he has stuff to say.  Who knows, but check it out. 

Okay so to add a more shallow cap to my day, while I finished Man from Saigon, sitting next to Bill on the couch, having done my daily huff puff walk for an hour, we watched TV.  Every now and then at 8 I’d click in Dancing with the Stars to see Kate clump across the floor, and the part of me that used to be a single mother thought, “Good, she’s earning money for the kids.”

You catch my drift reader; blessings and a glorious day and best wishes from Monday who regretfully is speaking Tuesday.

Next post may be about Baha’i Holy Days and stuff like that; hope you stay tuned!

Led wonderful workshop yesterday; went to great devotional  – Baha’i and writings from world’s scriptures read; great music, lovely home, wonderful people, conversation with laughter, spirituality, and great food.

Exhausted today; off I went to Monterey Park for fantastic Chinese Massage – $20, $5 of which is the tip.

Came out semi alive and looser, and crashed, and now on pewter updating life.

Small post-huge day, with bill, quiet; tomorrow neurology appointment for him.

http://pilipilisakasakadiaries.wordpress.com

read this dear ones and weep – but with stomping feet and yahoos to the sky. this is a fabulous blog. pilipilisakas’s writng is like butter on a hot black skillet. mmmmm hmmmmmm!

okay back to me. I’ts only almost noon and i’m still at the Pewter replying to blogs, email, facebook.

Today, this morning, old shirt, blinking eyes, fingers that run across the keyboard like the sound of French poodles in a hurry clicking their toes towards food bowls, these are my electric hours. Life is electric and i’ll list a few things at the end so you catch my drift. Drift dear reader; drift is important.

Today is exhaustion day big time. Was surprised. Went to cardio guy yesterday; and he’s now Bill’s Cardio guy too; very funny, dry wit, sardonic. While Bill was getting his blood pressure taken (read abnormally high) (read, situational) I was standing in the hallway, and I felt as if I were going to pass out. I never feel that way there. we were more nervous of Bill’s test results than we realized.

He’s got a hardening aortic valve, but doesn’t have to have surgery, like I did and he won’t. I lived and that’s good depending on who is saying it. smile.
They’ll watch him, and give him ultrasound in 6 months.
A friend writes, “Can they soften the valve”?

We both felt as if a steamroller decided not to bury us in mud! Wow.
Big, I guess one could say.

So day in honor of big,I’ll laundry list the “bigs” in my life.

Bill’s heart not too bad or heart valve
Reading pilisaka’s blog
Watching on You Tube _Devotional – Baha’i
Finding out the red light, third one in on the blinking model if you really want to know, is the result of perhaps a patchy connection to be replaced easily by trip to Best or Radio Shack.
Fireside (Baha’i chats) at Nelson’s last night. Steve and Juliana Licata and their two heavenly sons; music, entertainment; incredible talk
Meeting a new person; a muscian who heard of Baha’is on the net and from his spiritual leader who said, “Go.”
My walking an hour a day – El Moleno, a nice hill if you like puffing, but the way back a treat.
Friends, Mizz V helping me become lickietier and splickietier on the net.
Friends, Son, Daughter in Laws, Grandkids
The Women’s Room in Pasadena where homeless women have respite and the writing class I lead on Tuesday afternoons where the moments expand to tears and riotous laughter.
good writing.
Enemies of the People, Kati Marton, a great read (for Pasadena book club)
Waiting to read a wonderful book published in early 1900s on Muhammad, clear, insightful.
Gleanings. Baha’u’llah’s writings at the top. Always.
10 books waiting, some study, some fun, all fascinating.
Physical exhaustion, but a day of forced rest.

all of these are big in my young life, and now if I run into a pug today, walking his or her snorty self, i’ll know it’s a wondrous life.

Okay, Easter or any major holiday our wonderful landlady has all kids, and grandchildren and friends over; we’re always invited, but i feel vulnerable on those holidays; reminded we have no permanent place. But every other day, not a holiday, am grateful we have a roof over our heads, a comfortable bed, and we live in a nice pool house; small but we do it well.

still i get a hollow toothed feeling in my gut, exacerbated by Bill’s two upcoming appointment with Cardio Guy; and Neurologist. The adventures of being 75 and over. He’s still my pal, my buddy, my love, and vulnerability showed up big today in my scatteredness, trying to get every moment in life in today.

Computer network down today; came on at 5.30; friend asked why the switch to this blog. Because this blog has more life, vitality and a wider array of designs within which to blog.

We saw Crazy Heart for 2 bucks at the Academy; the theatre was crowded. Ran into Rose from my writing group, and her family, boyfriend, beautiful pregnant daughter and two dynamite grandchildren-girls who read and were friendly, and i was happy.

big is still not knowing in a Braille like fashion where the post sign is on this and then how to get it on nablopomo, without looking at my instructions and for missing dookhickies to click. Mizz V put some more on; i should be getting better.

I ran into the door, charging out of her today; big bruise on hand, head okay, so and we are having coffee with our young friends Neda and Johnnie; and that will be a time when safe is a feeling i’ll have stretched out up to the sky and all, and we’ll laugh and scratch, and i’ll come home and do stuff. They are picking bill and myself up.

So big was living without communing with my 400 or so intimate gang of friends, and getting back on just nas i was about to call and get hooked up to india to find out whats happening.

Will write more about Arts Rising but have to go now.

Recommending some books:

Drawn to the Rhythm, Sara Hall, a gripping, and exceedingly well-written memoir of a woman at 40 or so married, affluent, with children and a verbally abusive husband, who discovers sculling (single kayak type of boat); i am not skilled in naming appropriately some sports stuff; but this was a fabulous book which I found in my favorite used book store in Chico, California. Chico is about 2 hours beyond Sacramento. Also I read Life’s That Way, by Jim Beaver, of his marriage to Cecily Adams (daughter of Don Adams-Get Smart fame) and her incurring lung cancer; about their daughter Maddie, and also well written, insightful and just reflective of so many of the anonymous amongst us facing their Herculean tasks and soldiering on. One more; was another woman and boating; this was A Pearl in the Storm, Tori Murden McClure; rowing across the Atlantic. Yes, you heard that correctly. rowing across the Atlantic, and incredible gripper; what a fierce and wonderful soul.

We are back in Pasadena; think house in Chico selling-it belongs to Ralph who passed, the Ralph of “I’m dying as fast as I can,” at 91 fame; and we are settling his stuff as all kids pitch in and are gigantic help; it’s wonderful to see the Baha’i community, and for me, I am having a lot of healing work done. One is NAET which deals with allergies, and is terrific, my friend Vicki is a Practitioner.

I feel on a newly waxed bathroom floor a week or so ago, and now back in Pasadena, I go to the Altadena Healing Arts center-see Marilyn -last name escapes me at moment, and she is incredible, incredible. She does DNFT – nonforce. com stuff; and more than that. The Altadena Center – healing center is not new in my mind. Friends have raved about it for years.

When you first go in, the flowers in their small garden, seem to burst towards you in profusion of color, health and the whole place has an incredible sense of quiet beauty, knowledge, love, amazing.

So we will probably drive up to Chico Sunday; bill hurt his hand, and we were in emergency care Sunday at Kaiser-great people; we think while cleaning out our garage, dust from 1945 fell on an open cut on his hand; and he has had an extremely painful skin infection. I Googled it, and came up with the symptoms of Rheumatoid Arthritis, but his hands were not twisted, and his other hand wasn’t injured; so in my brilliant medical diagnosis by Google, I missed the mark. I’ve done this twice with my own stuff and half to laugh at myself.

He’s getting better; taking a nap; and that’s the story morning glories!

from John Kavelin’s blog on health – his health-good news

John and I want to share with you a truly amazing new development, due in no small part to the prayers and positive thoughts you continue to send. Please don’t stop!

John says: I have been wrestling for some time with this feeling of being between two worlds. The medical prognosis seems to have been incorrect. We have been told since the beginning that I just don’t have a lot of time left. So, I told Linda that treading water and holding my breath is exhausting. She asked me “What do you need?” I said “To move forward.” When we explored what that meant, it was to finish the design for a new Virtues Project website that began before my diagnosis. So, we went back to work!!!! We have been consulting with the web designer to finalize my part of the project, which is the design template. Then of course it will take Linda and Dan some time to complete the content.

My sight is better. My energy is more consistent. Linda says I’m sharper than ever in discerning the decisions being made now.
Brother Tommy and his wife Farahnaz are coming tomorrow and we look forward to fully enjoying their visit and doing lots of walking.

I have a keen awareness that healing takes many forms. At this point my physical and mental condition is surprising all of us, and especially the palliative care medical team!

It is wonderful hearing from all of you! It’s regrettable that I simply don’t have the capacity to write to each of you what my heart is feeling when I read your loving messages.

If I could define the three virtues most prominent in my life right now, they are Joy, Awe and Wonder.
Much love to you all from John, Dan and Linda

Input from Linda and Dan Popov regarding John-

John and I went to Saturday market on this cool, but thankfully bright Spring day. His stability is really good and he walks without assistance.

John says to tell you that the steroids that his brain requires to keep swelling down which he has taken for a year have added a lot of weight and he hardly recognizes himself in the mirror anymore. He is also growing a beard and I think he looks quite distinguished. The amazing thing, he says, is that during the year, other than occasional headaches, he has had little or no pain (other than what he calls “grab and stab” during hospitalizations). We will get some photos on Caring Bridge for you soon…

John was asked what prayer he gravitates to now. One is a long healing prayer and another is a Baha’i prayer for the midnight hour: “O Lord, I have turned my face unto Thy kingdom of oneness and am immersed in the sea of Thy mercy. O Lord, enlighten my sight by beholding Thy lights in this dark night, and make me happy by the wine of Thy love in this wonderful age. O Lord, make me hear Thy call, and open before my face the doors of Thy heaven, so that I may see the light of Thy glory and become attracted to Thy beauty. Verily, Thou art the Giver, the Generous, the Merciful, the Forgiving. — Abdu’l-Baha

With love from Dan, Linda and John

John Kavelin is in transition with his terminal illness, and his sister, Linda Popov, left a note on “Caring Bridge,” which is site on the net to inform everyone of someone’s illness, joys, challenges, and I thought I would post today’s (April 20, 2009) comment. To describe John would take more than a bucket of words, and my buckets are out today, so suffice it to say, he’s noble, valiant, highly creative, highly loving, giving, and we house sat for him in Pasadena, and the Pasadena Baha’is had the privilege of listening to John and Linda at a fireside at the Nelson’s several months ago.

He has the same kind of brain tumor Ted Kennedy has. John was also the designer of Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride at Disney, and won awards I believe for his Animal Kingdom in Disney World. He also designed stages, etc. in most major Baha’i conferences. He has a twin Tommie, and a sister Linda, and a brother-in-law Dan. Dan and Linda are living with him in his gorgeous place on Salt Springs Island, called by him Spirit Lodge. So here’s the note: love and prayers to all, and for John and his family. How’d we get so lucky to know them, and for us, in particular, John?

I want to receive Journal update notification e-mails.

Friends, you know from reading our journal that there have been a great many gifts and blessings in the last year for our family. One of the sweetest is the sacred time John and I spend most mornings together. This is an opening for John to discern and to speak whatever is on his mind or heart, and for me as well.
I am realizing that while his short term memory fades, his spiritual acuity is brightening. Yesterday he was saying that in his prayers, he is not asking to go or to stay, but for contentment with what is. He said “It is a commitment to NOW”. So, we are very much at peace living in the now of each moment and each day. Sending you all our love, Linda




February 27, 2008 – A year ago, I was walking with Dom and Vera in Weimar, walking across cobblestone streets, near Bahaus University where Vera getting her doctorate, arm in arm with both of them. Today, I sit here thatched headed, and Bill is nearby. He is totally without energy, lightheaded, and on antibiotics. he’s in Day blah blah of his Saga, which involved an almost all night sojourn at Huntington Hospital’s ER last Wednesday, to which valient friends showed up. Because of his Epstein Barr, his liver is enflamed, and he had a very bad reaction to previous meds. We are just grateful he’s home, and we find ourselves at night sitting on the couch just holding hands.

The above pictures seem to be my themes today, and I have been concerned about Bill whom I call Mr. Bill of late; I feel like a pug dog facing the door waiting for my owner to appear. Tonight, Maryam and I with an assist from Mona, giving the fireside at the Nelson’s on the role of education, but it’s so much more.

Prayers for Counsellor Aghdasi are in order; not sure in my haste to get this in I spelled everything correctly. The fortunate thing with prayers is spelling doesn’t count. Sandra just called and passed out on the floor of Target which we call Tarjay yesterday afternoon. I told her she probably was the dishiest blonde to hit the floor that day. She’s home, after ambulance ride to ER; friends right there, stitches in head and lip, and lived to tell the tale. The ER is still quite crowded she reports. Poor people are struggling with the flu down here.

Couldn’t resist the picture of Bill digging or ready to dig into ice cream. that was in Idaho when we were 24/7 with my sister, and neighbors provided ice cream and we all dove into same as if there was a shortage, or at least I did.

Okay that’s it for the day; wishing everyone well in their myriad footsteps hoofing around their metaphorical neighborhoods. Johnnie is leaving Friday for Haifa, and Ann and Stephan are on a plane, as we speak, going back to Dalian, China.

My twin, Elizabeth Leslie, died June 18, 2007. She won the long hard fight, and many events and happenings swirled around us, too numerous to comment at the moment. She died peacefully, family nearby. She was surrounded by loved ones, and Hospice, Hospice was incredible, and educative and loving. Lindsey, Matt’s wife (my nephew) and I were student nurses. We learned to crush ice chips with a hammer (ice folded up in tea-towel), we learned how a sheet placed under the patient’s torso, is called a draw sheet, and how two figures get on each side and lift the patient up. we learned how to lift someone from bed to chair, and i learned all manner of getting meds into my sister whom I call Liz. Matt, Lindsey, Bill and I were like a concerto, and since Lindsey is a trumpet player, I thought musical reference good. I have pictures or will put pics up later, but Matt did a montage of pics including some of Liz and I as kids on trycicles and the like, causing a lump in my throat at random moments. A lot was said; she was held, loved, prayed for, with, over, and tucked in the best way we all knew how. It’s a privilege to help a soul over the threshhold, and i’m glad Bill and i were there.

we were to go to seattle, but too tired. Instead, we are down with Ralph and Sue in Chico, and will get back to Pasadena in mid-July. Friends all over sent prayers and love, and how lucky can you get. So that’s it for now, a breaking of my blog silence. Wishing you all well, love esther

A lot of people need prayers. Some people need a “Happy Naw Ruz” also. So to my good friends who are Muslim and Baha’i, much love and joyous beginnings of a new year.
On the prayer front: certain my twin, Elizabeth, and a family in Pasadena. The great grandmother is our friend, Sara, and a long-time Baha’i. She’s lived in Africa, and China and been of great service to humanity. She’s in advanced stages of Alzheimers. Her daughter, whose name I’ll keep private, is one of the bravest, stand-up straight, tell the world what it’s like,” has had several strokes (she’s 50 ish) and cancer i think has returned. This daughter has a daughter who has a physical disability but who has taken to the helm and is caring for her grandmother in her apartment. They all live in the same apartment complex. The daughter went to the hospital yesterday; totally in pain, unable to eat for weeks, much more. Her youngest son who just graduated high school has been by her side. If ever this family needed prayers, it’s now, and loving help. So if you could that would be great. I will post a Healing Prayer as an image also. Blessings and love to you all; we are really part of one Great Fabric.

My two themes as indicated by this quote and the previous one seem to be about healing. Sometimes themes call to me, to us, for reflection and wishing the wellbeing of all I know. How is it with you?

“We should all visit the sick. When they are in sorrow and suffering, it is a real help and benefit to have a friend come. Happiness is a great healer to those who are ill.In the East it is the custom to call upon the patient often and meet him individually. The people in the East show the utmost kindness and compassion to the sick and suffering. This has greater effect than the remedy itself.You must always have this thought of love and affection when you visit the ailing and affected.” Baha’i Writings

From the Baha’i Writings:

“Looking after one’s health is done with two intentions. Man may take good care of his body for the purpose of satisfying his personal wishes. Or, he may look after his health with the good intention of serving humanity and of living long enough to perform his duty toward mankind. The latter is most commendable.”
“Between material things and spiritual things there is a connection. The more healthful his body the greater will be the power of the spirit of man; the power of the intellect, the power of the memory, the power of reflection will then be greater.”


Bill is 80% better, and we went for an early dinner at Donna’s SLIK (South Lake Italian Kitchen). We are really a crowd there, like Cheers, without the alcohol. Donna is a basset hound devotee, and has fabulous photos of her dog Blossom whose birthday party is December 19th; we all go, she rents a red carpet, i tell you. The pictures of Blossom grace one wall: Blossom with big hat and pearls; Blossom with this, and that, what a beauty. Sort of like a Vogue gallery for bassets. I first met Blossom 5 years ago, as she sat outside of the restaurant, belly sagging to the ground, an unashamed woman, and I said to her, “You look like you’ve had a full life Blossom,” and she agreed. 5 years later, Donna with another Basset, Blanche, and a thousand stories and events in our memory bank, i thought, I have been selfish. Put up a pic of a basset for goodness sake, so in honor of Donna, a pure lover of humankind; here’s a picture. Now i am going to put it in; this is an art i just learned today!

Taking a course through Wilmette Institute. I was hesitant, but it’s great as they encourage comments re imagry in the Writings. Reading Tablets of the Divine Plan, and various letters from the Universal House of Justice. Bill has hepatitis, we think caused by a bad sandwich, obtained unbelievably from a hospital cafeteria where he went to grab a bite as Sue and Ralph and I sat upstairs in an emergency room to get Sue admitted and also people had square plastic buckets to urp in and it was unbelievable; but we are relieved, it is not a blood disease.

Just finished Wake-Up Call Kirstren Breitweiser, one of the 9/11 widows. she had been Republican and the book details the journey and struggle a small group of 911 widows incurred. The writing is intelligent, honest, and very good. It was quite insightful.

John called from Haifa; he said a prayer for Bill at Bahji; had coffee with Amelia and then violetta joined us; i went home to check on bill. I walked two miles today; hooray; violetta came by; now have to stop nd study and hopefully get a netflix dvd to view in an hour or so. Soccer game of Jessica’s tomorrow; Nick came by with Border’s card gift and a card for Bill on his birthday; wow, so sweet!
He will pick me up at 8.15 so I can go see Jessica play soccer! hooray