The Limited View

Day 11 post-surgery, and my view is still limited to one window with brief glimpses of the rest of my life-on-hold. I shuffle from chair to bed with short detours to the bathroom or freezer. I'm still icing and elevating 24 hours a day, with the reward of no real pain, just discomfort now and then.

I can do one big thing each day and the big things are smaller than they used to be. Today I'm overscheduled because I'm running out of time for Jell-O. The show on the 31st needs me to at least make t-shirts and a display. I really want to do both, and do them well. More about those in the other blog, Gelatinaceae@blogspot.com

Might make a decision today about the knee walker. It seems that I could get along without it, but why restrict my options? I'll see what I can get out of the insurance company. Because I have received no bills, I have a vague idea that I will spend the $5000 deductible but if I'm not careful it could be a lot more. They work so weirdly with their UCRs and denials. Knee walkers are hot properties and I want to buy one for the probable occurrence of the removal of the big screw Dr. McCourt put in my heel. Then I could lend it out to the probable several people in my big network who will suffer my same injury as we age. They're promoted because you get better exercise of your compromised limb and for me that is a big concern as I need to get back on my bike as soon as possible. June is so far away as a date to be mended...whatever I can do to be ready will have untold benefits.


So I'll get on the phone but I hope that doesn't become my one thing today. I'm so hot on my narrative nonfiction track that my house book is writing itself in my mind and it would be so nice to get some of that down in readable words before it fades. The book Story Craft is filling in the gaps in my education that have developed from not ever getting any formal training in writing. It's mostly a disadvantage in my confidence level since I do much of what he is teaching instinctively from reading a lot and from the feedback of my writing groups over the years, but working through the book and taking notes on one page while outlining my book on the facing page is thrilling. That's what I want to be doing nonstop. Unfortunately it's just one of the several projects I'm doing simultaneously. But I have time.

I'm pressuring myself to get out in the shop while pressuring myself to stay out of it. My regular inventory building came to a screeching halt and I just hope I have the hats I need to get some retail in if the weather is good and I can work out the logistics of getting to Market. It's going to be painful to miss Opening Day and April and May markets but it would be literally painful to try to go down there for little monetary reward. I doubt I can pay anyone to sell for me, but most of the people who would do it for free will be down there trying to sell their own stuff. I haven't worked on the possibilities of enlisting helpers. That's a really big thing and I want to get some other things out of the way first so I can be realistic and practical about it. No sense trying to get people lined up if I'm not committed. My self-sacrificing ways regarding rainy Markets are not going to be easy to justify this season. It has to be worth it for me and whomever is helping me, and that is something I just can not guarantee. I'm trying on the idea of staying home on Saturdays but it's painful to imagine it. I know exactly how it feels, actually, having done it for years while I was building the house. If I go down to the Park Blocks without my wares, I feel so stupid, with all that wasted potential. And if I go with them, sometimes I feel just as stupid.

It makes a little more sense to enlist those folks in helping me print. The shop is tight but with one person moving the shirts around I think I'll be able to pull the squeegee. That is more like guaranteed income: even if I am not as efficient, I will still get that per-shirt pay. And that can be done during the week so my Market people can help.

Domestically I'm doing well, and even did some dishes yesterday. I'm going to try the vacuum today, just on the high spots. The spiderwebs and dust will wait. There are no rugs to shake anymore, since my caretakers made me eliminate all the throw rugs, which was of course necessary and wise. Every day I take on a bit more of my own care, which buys me a little more of my treasured solitude and work time.

I love being a hermit but this has forced me to modify, and I am enjoying the benefits of more human company. I love my people. I have guiltily for some time heard myself valuing my work over my people and my work really is essential to me, and important in my small world, but in the big scheme of life I have been a slacker in my friendships and I can't let myself be that way. The generosity and caring of my friends and neighbors is deep and wide and inspires me to be a lot better person to match it. I couldn't even hope to catch up with some of them, who have been practicing compassion and generosity much more diligently than I. But each day is a new opportunity for that.

The healing sessions I've had have blown my mind completely and I will grow spiritually in some unexpected but long-simmering ways. I want to use my skills and talents such as writing and printing to advance humans in my sphere in whatever ways I can. That might just be chronicling the work of people like Jan or Beth or Pamela by writing about them so that their work can be recognized and appreciated, or maybe just learning the language of appreciation so that other people can feel the depth too. For a start I will be less shy about articulating it when I get the opportunity.

I see people's eyes glaze over when I mention past lives or high soul committees but I don't know why their discomfort ought to be important to me. In a way I place them above me, and let my fear of judgement limit me and my own healing progress. Each time I have told the story of my three-hour euphoric episode the other day, I've found the listener to be much more accepting than I imagined they would be. I haven't had anyone dismiss it yet. So what if they do? Ive spent years dismissing it on the one hand while exploring it with the other, and that seems like some wasted time at this point. I often say "Your cynicism will not protect you."

Reserving your enthusiasm for the woo-woo and trying to seem reasonable and non-religious in the face of fascinating and impressive spiritual results has just hobbled me in my own progress toward enlightened advancement. I'm holding up the evolution of the spirit. If I could fully embrace it I might get out of this cast and into print and accomplishment so much more quickly. I have nothing to lose if a few people dismiss me.

Being raised Catholic and then rejecting it so thoroughly because of the cruelty that comes with it have caused me to write off the power of prayer and anything that can be interpreted as religious belief, but I have to admit that I never lost the attraction to and belief in magic. Nature is magical and I fully embrace nature. Maybe as a first step I can allow all religious and spiritual belief to be acceptable. I certainly don't have to accept the actions of those practitioners who hide their base impulses behind the facade of it while perverting it for their own gain. Let those be the ones I dismiss and ignore. Let me focus on all those who are doing good in the world, and give credit for what sustains them. Whatever they name it, it is the same power that is greater than our own small selves, the same ability to see the bigger picture, the greater good.

Let me get past the naming and into the essence, fully and in great beauty and grace. Let me pray. So what if that makes me irrational. Last time I looked I was full of the irrational and that was part of what made me alive and glowing. Let me expand my awareness without limits. Let me expand my acceptance of all that glows and sparkles. Last night I heard myself repeating the nightly prayers of my youth, the ones I said so fervently on my knees every night. What a lovely habit, really: listing the ones you love as you go to rest. "God bless Mommy, and Daddy, and Karen and Laura and Paula and John and Big Ears and Susie Fries and..." now I would add dozens of others and expansions of those who deserve regular blessings. I can skip all the parts where I berate myself for my many "sins" and "trespasses" and just gently encourage myself to move forward in that grace that may be granted, usually whether it is earned or just bestowed.

And let me capture the passion that used to consume me so thoroughly this time of year and dive deep into my Jell-O Art. I used to turn everything else, and everyone, aside for weeks in advance of the show and fully immerse in the intensity and creativity of that focus. I rode on that all year long in 2011, and here we are so close to the show we can taste it, and I'm resisting. The house book will still be here, but the Jell-O Show will be over in the blink of an eye. Let me make that my passion for the next two weeks.

Forgive me if I set you aside temporarily while I do this essential thing. Jell-O is my most important metaphor, my vehicle, my most pure self-expression. It's way more important than the little things I put in the way of it to make myself feel less scared. Passion and intensity are scary. The fear of failure always lurks and slows and stops us. One of the greatest aspects of the Jell-O Art is that there is no failure. There is no evaluation. It is pure art and pure, brilliant, sensual life.

Okay, don't bother me too much today. I'm making Jell-O. I love you though. Make sure to plan for the evening of March 31 from 5-8. You have nothing more important to do, take my word for it. And while you're waiting, make some Jell-O art. You won't be sorry.