Joke's on me!

Tomorrow I return to the medical office from which I "borrowed" the magazine last week. Today it seemed timely that I should finish the article I wanted to read. Alas, a page is missing...Some CREEP removed the page that is the completion of my story of calm! How's that fair?! ....or something...Anyway I enjoyed the photos and the idea of returning there sometime (soon?). There are lots of things on my to-do list today but the one I am most looking forward to is "write a song, Stab 1" ... hopefully I'll get to it. I will also appreciate marking through "bedroom" for it will mean clothes are all in a dresser or closet and that the entire floor is visible...assorted baskets of mail having been cleared. Don't quite know why I keep my very personal space such a mess..oh sure, we all have ideas.. But now I will make some more progress and allow the clearing of personal physical space to clear the personal head and heart space so that the song that's trying to get out will have a place to be.

That'll show 'em...

Today I had to go for a follow-up diagnostic. There is more to look at so I get to do this again next week. You know something's up when they escort you to a place to "wait" which you find is code for "you have to visit with the doctor who you've never met" ...radiologist. I sit down at the big desk that looks like no one really lives there and there has been placed for my reading enjoyment 2 magazines...Lovely.

So my head is spinning with thoughts about how they would just tell me, "all's ok, see you in a year" if indeed all were ok, so somethin's up. I'm no fool. Naturally my head races to the absolute most horrific bad case scenario and I find myself wishing I weren't alone. Isn't that the way bad news is delivered - with someone who cares and supports you by your side, ready to hand you a tissue or at least pat your hand? Inside my head someone is screaming "shouldn't they have told me to bring backup??!!"

So I begin to look at this magazine, thumbing madly and there's an article by an author (I know none of her books) that is all about the house she and her husband have near Savannah in a spot I love. All of a sudden I'm feeling more relaxed, breathing deeply, seeking salt air...

I love being surprised by calm.

What a gift.

However, I did not finish the article before the doctor came in with the films, the explanation, the plan for another diagnostic next week..

And I don't know why this is such a big deal (Baptist roots?) but I took the magazine with me.

I need to finish that article and hear this author describe moving to and visiting and being in the place I love.

On a happier note, for the first time ever in my whole life, I have written a song! No, Two...

and a third is in progress...thought it was done, but no. Feels right, feels freeing. I think I may like this.

Many thanks to so many of my friends who have encouraged.

A good week, overall...last Friday's performance at the art gallery was sweet and fun and this Saturday there is a house concert where I'm the main attraction...woot.

Yes, of course I'll return the magazine when I go back next week.

a few rain drops

This morning I had my coffee on the patio. Due to travel and oppressive heat and humidity, this was the first time in nearly 2 weeks. As I approached my chair, I noticed the faintest rain drops, hitting me like half a pin prick. I sat down anyway. I clutched my coffee cup and covered the writing book I intended to make some notes in. It's one thing for me to get a little damp; no use messing up a perfectly fine notebook.

The rain strengthened a little but never more than a persistent mist. What's the harm in getting a little damp. Words to a couple of songs came to mind, "let the pain and the sorrow be washed away. ." and " as deep cries out to deep " I sat in the rain and in my pain and in the gain of a lesson refreshed in my heart. It's a bit too early to move on to it just now, for it feels right to allow the pain, even if I know I should pray that it be washed away. So much of my life has existed in not allowing my feelings, my fears, my outbursts (I'm still not at all good with this one), especially the things that I was told (sometimes silently) are unacceptable . . . so a little simmering...then the washing away. Rain feels good on the face.