Nuthatch on Icicle

 

While waiting its turn at the suet feeder, a nuthatch waits on a nearby icicle. It looks like a chilly perch to me, but then i've been going barefoot in the snow.

Today is the day people over 75 can sign up for vaccinations in our state. It's been feeling like a long, cold wait. When? When? When? Then this morning, when is the website going to open? The state Health Department didn't give a specific time because they didn't want to be overwhelmed. After meditation at 7:00, i checked the website again for my sweetie, and it was open! He got his appointment. Now he waits 12 days for February 6, the date of his vaccination.

Waiting through these next cold days for the long-awaited shot.

Waiting. What is "waiting," really? Waiting is not being in the present moment. Waiting is looking forward to the next moment, the next hour, the next day, the next week, the next month. As if "now" were something to be pitched aside in favor of the the desired "then."

The nuthatch perches on an icicle. That is all. Perching, perching. Breathing, breathing. Heart beating, beating.

That sentence about waiting for the suet feeder is just a story i made up.

Angel Hovering Round

 

While attending a meditation class on Zoom, it looked an angel wing was behind me. Our local hospice choir sings a song at the bedside of the dying, "There Are Angels Hovering 'Round." What if angels hover around us all the time?

Sometimes, i do think my guardian angel is keeping a watch out for me. Close calls and i am still alive. Unaccountable luck. One of my great good fortunes this week was to receive my first COVID vaccination because i am a hospice volunteer.

As my mother was dying, i found this hand-written poem in her purse:

Angel of God, guardian dear,

To whom God’s love entrusts me here.

Ever this day be at my side,

To lead and guard, to light and guide.

If i had a quick glimpse of my guardian angel this morning, i say, "Lead on!"

Tetanus Shot

I went to the doctor for my annual physical exam and received a tetanus shot. It's a good idea for gardeners to get a tetanus booster every 10 years, since 30 percent of tetanus injuries occur in the yard and garden and another 25 percent occur somewhere else outdoors. There's enough rusty garden paraphernalia around my property, and occasional manure too, that a tetanus shot seems like a good idea to me.

Of course, some people don't believe in vaccinations or suspect them of harboring some danger. Yes, there is a minuscule risk. On the other hand, when i hear about a 3-year-old child dying of tetanus because his parents didn't believe in the vaccinations, well, i feel very sad.

How can we inoculate ourselves against the vagaries of life? Can we feel happiness despite conditions?

Contemplate this chant today:

All things are impermanent.

They arise and they pass away.

To live in harmony with this truth

brings great happiness.

How can it be that looking, deeply, at arising and passing away brings us happiness?