Monday, January 21, 2008
LONGEVITY, Part 1
I've never really had the urge to write a special post commemorating a federal holiday, but today (which by some mysterious process turned into yesterday about forty-five minutes ago) I did.
It's probably because recently I've been thinking a lot about Martin Luther King. In fact, I've thought about him so much I couldn't fit all the things I wanted to say about him into one post. I've thought about him in a personal way; and I've thought about him for the work that consumed his life. His life long war against invisibility--not for himself, because he was likely to be seen no matter what--but for others.
But as I just proved, a day can turn into a yesterday so quickly that you never get a chance to write the things you want to write, or say the things you intend to say--or damn, even do the laundry.
It was a good day though--so good that when I went to the pharmacy to pick up my prescriptions, I decided to saunter around the mall a little. I was just going to go to one store, but before I knew it, I had walked through the entire marketplace.
I bought myself some new underwear in rainbow colors, and a pair of fake Uggs for twenty-five dollars. I ran into some people I knew and stopped to talk.
They seemed surprised to see me out walking around, but they were too polite to say so, and I was too polite to tell them to stop looking at me like a ghost. After a while, we all forgot how wondrous it was to be alive and walking around the mall shopping for underwear on a federal holiday, and just talked.
Then, as I used to do when going to the mall was not a noteworthy accomplishment, I stopped at B & N for a mocha latte. I got tired before I finished it, but it still tasted good.
At the front of the store was a whole table of books about longevity. Foods to eat. Exercises to do. Thoughts to think. I used to love books like that, and I don't doubt they're full of marvelous advice. But today I walked past them, feeling kind of wistful for my old self. The self that believed those books could somehow save me.
The trouble is I ate the secret foods, did the work-outs, thought the thoughts, took the cleansing breaths, and I still got sick.
Maybe I put too much faith in those things before. Maybe I saw those books as talismans. Maybe I believed that if I just found the right one, I could live forever--or for a hundred years, which felt like forever when I first started reading about eating seeds and breathing deeply and living with gratitude.
Don't get me wrong; I'm still for healthy living and yoga and running for miles along the beach, and saying thank you whenever you get the chance. I just don't think of longevity as something I can buy at B & N anymore. Nor is it quite such a preoccupation.
Even though I have every longing--and these days, every hope--of writing more books and celebrating more anniversaries and seeing my grandchildren grow to be sturdy adults, I see things differently now.
Now, like MLK, I just want to do the work I have in me to do, and give whatever I have in me to give, however small and humble it might be.
More tomorrow...or is it today?
my agenda for today - learn a reggae number and write a poem
when today turns into tomorrow - get better at both
thank you for you and all of us :)
cheers
It does make for a certain urgency to live better. By better, I don't mean eating the right foods or finding religion. Instead it's a desire to leave this world the best part of myself. I try every day and every day I fail, but some days I succeed, too.
I think you know that you've succeeded as well. Your family, your friends, and your writing are you gifts to us. Thank you.
Amy MacKinnon
Johnny Carson had a comment about all the studies showing what is good for you and what is bad for you - "When they're all done, they'll discover the best thing for breakfast is a beer and a cigarette."
Just because you get dealt a bad hand, doesn't mean you still can't play.
Your postings are beautiful. I now have a new word to think about 'non-compliant.'
I will be sending positive vibes your way...
Best,
xo
Amy: I don't know the details of your experience, but somehow it comes through in your writing--and perhaps even more in your generosity to friends.
Amishlaw: Who would have thought I'd find a trip to the mall to buy underwear so enjoyable
Marilyn: Grabbing hold here...Good to think of you doing the same in CA.
Susan: I always love it when you leave a comment.
kyra: I have every faith in you!
sandy: Thanks for sharing that marvelous quote! I hadn't heard it before.
Ric: I don't know about the beer and cigarettes, but these days, I frequently have caffeine and chocolate for breakfast. Studies say it's health
food!
Chursch lady: I always love to meet new friends--especially from John Elder Robison's blog! And especially people who are intrigued by the word
"non-compliant."
lisa: It's a good mantra--the kind of wisdom that comes up in hard times, don't you think?
Fred: If Gary Snyder recommended it, and it cured you of something you can no longer remember, I think I better check this book out!
I'd love to run into you at the mall! Well, not run into, come across, meet, hug, talk.
btw, I too recommend ANY book with ducks in it.
xxx
Thanks for the timely reminder.
Stay warm.
sending you much peace and light...
You remember the cliche, that which doesn't kill us only makes us stronger?
(*conspiratorial tone here*)
It's true, isn't it?
maryanne: Someday we will run into each other! I have faith. (Hopefully, it's NOT at the mall, but if it is, that's okay, too!)
Judy: You are an example of doing exactly that. Your work has so much heart.
Robin: Speaking of eloquence, you say this more beautifully than I could.
r: We probably passed a few of them back and forth!
Liz: SO good to see you again. Yes, LIVE, LIVE, LIVE--you and me both.
Sky: I was good at some things, but one thing I didn't do was go to the doctor until I'd been living with pain for four months. Afterwards, I, too, felt guilty for my negligence. I'll always feel grateful that my doctor told me to totally forget that and move forward positively. That's what you're doing now. Keep on going! Guilt helps no one...
more later...
Curmudgeon: I can hear that conspiratorial tone all the way from Chicago. Why are those cliches always so damn true?
I'm sending you a million tomorrows wrapped in pure light.
: 10:49 AM Sorry for being absentee on the blog but my thoughts have been with you.
Live, Laugh Love. That's all there is.
Yanno, there was an old song that had a line to the effect of, "what if God were one of us? Just a slob like one of us?" and I think you sort of answered this, because you have to live life one moment at a time. Everyone does. We can't not live, regardless of what we face. It goes on.
So from one writer to another, I send you love, best well-wishes there ever was, and thanks for being so honest, so open in your travels.
Oh yeah, and that's part of the journey too, right? Sharing !
hugs, Kim
We can't, of course, but rainbow colored underpants and a mocha latte is sure a great way to spend one of the precious days we get! I'm so happy for you that you got that day!!
Your blog (and my friend Kathryn at Mindful Life) helped inspire me on blogging and I thank you. You're in my thoughts and I'm glad you're still blogging. Keep writing.
tara: I started off writing that I didn't have time to write--and see where it led? I guess it proves that it's always worthwhile to BEGIN.
susan: Now if I could only learn to make brownies as good as yours, I might make my guests at home feel equally warm and happy...
Mary: Hope to see you in person soon for a little bit of that living, loving and laughing you're so good at.
k: Thanks for the reminder to check out Carleen's blog. I got bogged down with medical appointments this week, but will make it a point to get there today.
kim smith: I always loved that song about God and the bus...So happy to meet you!
Carleen: Focusing on how we "spend the days we do get" as you eloquently put it is what it's all about, isn't it?
marta: I'm so happy to hear your voice. After having spent most of my life thinking of myself as a writer wannabe, I now realize there was no such thing. If you're committed to writing, you're as real as they get!
kg: From your blog and e-mails, I can feel you living out those two sentences.
I'm sending you healing thoughts and prayers, and hope you have a great launch day for your books.
Edie: I LOVE to hear stories like yours--and lately, I"ve been hearing a lot of them. In a lot of ways, I understand where "blaming the victim" comes from; it gives people a sense of control, a sense that it can't happen to them. But in the end, it's a complex disease with complex causes, including genetics, the environment, and factors we don't understand yet.
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