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I need a calming image today, as my insides are trying to kill me.
Seattle, Washington.
Quote of the day: “Sometimes a wind comes up, blows you off course. You’re not ready for it, but if you’re lucky, you end up in a more interesting place than you’d planned. ”– Nora Roberts
Daily gratitudes:
My Father’s birthday today (I miss you, Daddy)
MKL – in general, but today, he’s my plumbing hero
Love
A day that’s warmer than it was meant to be
MoMos
Photo title: Facing West
Topsail Beach, North Carolina.
Quote of the day: “Time is a flowing river. Happy those who allow themselves to be carried, unresisting, with the current. They float through easy days. They live, unquestioning, in the moment.” – Christopher Morley
Waking up to NPR is an interesting thing. Sometimes I just sleep right through until Alarm #2 (the phone) goes off. Today, I was already half-awake because of the wind. The story of the earthquake in Japan made my eyes fly open.
My heart and thoughts, prayers and healing energy goes out to the people impacted by this disaster. Some of the footage coming out of Japan is amazing – breathtakingly horrifying.
I have always been fascinated by natural disasters, particularly ones involving water, due to my prophetic “water dreams”, which I’ll talk about another time. Now, I am glued to the computer and the TV, watching coverage on Hawaii’s KITV4, which has a live webcam going. While there fortunately hasn’t been a huge sweeping surge, it was fascinating to watch a view of the calm sea suddenly start to move around. And now the sea is calm again (temporarily). As one newswoman said, “Nothing super-duper dramatic.” It seems they dodged a bullet (though I recall saying that very thing about New Orleans when Hurricane Katrina first came ashore, so don’t listen to me.)
I’m frustrated with local news coverage, which has barely touched on this disaster and has carried its usual intolerable load of stupid commercials.
In a small point of morning irony, my hot water heater is broken. Some have too much water and others, not enough.
To share with you one more interesting coincidence, www.seattlepi.com carried an interesting story of newly discovered color photographs of the 1906 San Francisco earthquake taken by an experimental photographer named Frederick Eugene Ives. I’ve certainly seen photos of the aftermath of this earthquake before, but these just struck me. Why? Because of the color. I suddenly realized that on some less than conscious level, I had almost thought of the world back then as colorless, since I’ve only seen black and white photos. The color images made it feel so much more modern. I was flabbergasted (your good word for the day) by my own reaction.
Time for a Puerto Rican shower and off to work. Blessings to all in the world on this day of earthquakes and floods.
Photo Title: Three Peaks
View of Tortola from the ferry to Jost van Dyke, British Virgin Islands.
Quote of the day: “A heart in love with beauty never grows old.” – Turkish proverb
Photo Title: Mahogany Reflections
Seattle, Washington.
Quote of the Day: “This art of Love discloses the special and sacred identity of the other person. Love is the only Light that can truly read the secret signature of the other person’s individuality and soul.” – John O’Donahue
I was certified in scuba this week. That’s actually kind of a big deal for someone who doesn’t swim well, had a sadistic swim coach for her short-lived lessons, and a near drowning at age 8. I mean, you can’t breathe under water, so it really makes no sense. But Pat gave me scuba lessons for Christmas last year, and it was time to use them.
The first time going under freaked me out. I felt panicky, desperate, even though it was just the shallow end of the pool. It took me several minutes to acclimate, and Tyson, my cute instructor, could see it. Fortunately, there was only one other woman in the class with me, as I was definitely slow about learning some of the basic skills, like mask-clearing. And moving to the deep end of the pool really bothered my ears. I put us behind by two skills the first day, which we made up for the next day. But I was still struggling on Day 2, so I had a private lesson with Tyson last week, in order for me to feel more comfortable before doing an open water dive, and for him to feel comfortable certifying me.
It was still challenging to learn the mask-clearing skill. Guess I’m a mouth-breather, not a nose-breather. But by the end of our two hours, I loved gliding around under water (except my ears still bothered me a bit).
I was really surprised that I had as much difficulty as I did, even though I was nervous going in. I wanted so much to have it be second nature. Tyson had said after Day 1 that he was proud of me for coming back, because people who had as much trouble as I had often give up after the first day. I thought about giving up, but I am at a place where I’m not going to let anything defeat me. Including diving. So I did it! Yay for me!
I loved snorkeling on my first trip to the islands, and Brother John and Rich encouraged me to snorkel on Anegada one year, which was great. Hopefully, this will open the door to more underwater exploration. I have a year in which to complete my four open water dives. I wonder where I’ll go? It’s nice to think about on this chilly pre-Christmas afternoon.
A new feature to Seasweetie’s Pages — a poem every Wednesday, by one poet or another, or myself!
Today’s Poet: Pablo Neruda (one of my favorite poets)
Here I Love You
In the dark pines the wind disentangles itself.
The moon glows like phosphorous on the vagrant waters.
Days, all one kind, go chasing each other.
The snow unfurls in dancing figures.
A silver gull slips down from the west.
Sometimes a sail. High, high stars.
Oh the black cross of a ship.
Alone.
Sometimes I get up early and even my soul is wet.
Far away the sea sounds and resounds.
This is a port.
Here I love you.
Here I love you and the horizon hides you in vain.
I love you still among these cold things.
Sometimes my kisses go on those heavy vessels
that cross the sea towards no arrival.
I see myself forgotten like those old anchors.
The piers sadden when the afternoon moors there.
My life grows tired, hungry to no purpose.
I love what I do not have. You are so far.
My loathing wrestles with the slow twilights.
But night comes and starts to sing to me.
The moon turns its clockwork dream.
The biggest stars look at me with your eyes.
And as I love you, the pines in the wind
want to sing your name with their leaves of wire.
