Wordle 454 2/6
Having any ailment and forced to rest is not fun. I’m missing my daily swim which energizes me mentally and physically. This is not an “oh poor me” whine, it’s just a what is. I recently had a basal cell lesion removed from the tip of my nose and a skin graft taken from my ear. I am just one week post op and hoping the graft was successful. Honestly, I worry that I will have to have a second graft; those shots to the nose were extremely painful.
I try to keep my situation in perspective. So many people live in pain daily. I think about that a lot and especially now as people are being bombed out of their homes or dying from hunger. We fight over abortion rights while tiny, malnourished babies all over the world fight for one more day of life. Humankind can be kind but it seems that we have really fucked up.
Anyway, my stuff is small. I am going to focus on the positive and try to get some light exercise. I do need to figure out how to wash my hair and not get these bandages wet because a woman’s got to do what she’s gotta do.
This is the house that I grew up in, in San Francisco Richmond district. It had been modified some by the time I lived there. I loved the area and that it wasn’t too far a walk to my favorite spot, China Beach😎
One job, washing the dishes and 2 fiascos occur. I broke the handle off this lovely bowl and then two forks stuck together and won’t budge. 😬
I am an alcoholic. I have been sober for 17 years and I’d say that I’m pretty happy about that. I have never thought to write about it until now. I am not going to share any details of my story only a few insights into being me.
Sometimes I wonder what people think about me when I tell them “I’m an alcoholic”. Do they think perhaps that I’m judging their alcohol consumption.. That answer is absolutely not. Do they think there is something wrong with me as “does that girl ever have any fun and let loose?” Well, no problem there. Do folks wonder if it’s ok to drink around me? I say, “drink up” ‘cause it doesn’t bother me. I even keep a few beers or a bottle of wine in the house in case I have a guest.
I am an alcoholic. I am one of the lucky ones who made their way to AA. That support group was a big help to me. I remember at my very first meeting I was surprised to see such a healthy group of people. No kidding. AA is packed full of heathy people because those who are there can’t afford to stuff their feelings or not deal with daily issues. People may come in at a low place, maybe even be rock bottom. I sure was. But, I showed up. I mustered up the courage and took the fork in the road.
Anyway, I don’t feel broken. I do think that my brain may be wired a little different than so-called normal people. I do what I need to do to be healthy. I lead a joyful life and I share myself with others.
This morning a clerk saw me moving to her music and just now they turned up the music and 4 of us danced for 5 minutes. We all laughed! Life is now😎
One of the sweet things about my life in Mexico is that I can have fresh coconut water delivered to my door. One can have just about anything delivered. Living in this small beach community is like going back in time. And here, cash is still king. 😎
A Mexico morning is filled with birds cooing, fans a whirling and just now the construction site next door hints of pounding cement walls. It will be a fine day, no matter what. I say so! 😎
I haven’t been doing these morning pages. I am at a loss for words, just kidding. I do not think a Juri would ever be without words. What about listening? It must be a lost art. I know that I am guilty of thinking about what I am going to say next which would leave me unavailable as a listener. I think we have all been guilty of that. I recently read that to truly listen to another person shows a great deal of respect. That person feels seen. Today I am going to practice being a good listener. I have always considered myself to be an open book. It has been said that one leaves no mystery to be uncovered if a person reveals everything about themselves. People don’t really care about my stuff, they care about themselves. So if I can allow someone to be really heard I think that is a good start.
The glass on my 6 year old iPad Pro is separating from the body. I’m winging it ‘cause I want a new iPad anyway. Still I’m a wee bit disappointed.
And the beat continues.
I breathe, and the breath of all the ancients mingles with my blood. It warms the fear embedded in my heart. And the blood of my heart…
curses the woes of time bygone and embraces the music of my soul. What can never be forgotten are distant memories, intricately woven and etched deeply in my bones.
It is that soul of me, that chooses not to ignore the past, but to play on the rhythm of the beats within. I listen. Still, there is sorrow.
A seed lightly sewn takes hold and I wonder of healing…
Christmas Eve is the event to celebrate here in Mexico. It’s 2 in the morning and I can hear music, fireworks and laughter. Most have had a family dinner and the party continues. One year I saw a Santa in the garbage on Xmas morning; it was quiet, the party was over.
I was sitting inside the store visiting with my friend Luis when a tiny little girl came in to purchase a diaper. She must have been 3 or 4 years old and alone. Luis asked her what size and she said it was for a baby. He sent her away to find out if it was a small or large one that was needed. She returns a minute later and purchases one small diaper for 5 pesos (about 25 cents). I regret that I didn’t take her picture because she was just too cute. I did get her name. It was Angela Norbeta.