Tuesday, 10 November 2009

A Spoonful Of Dream Honey


















My sweet Allegra (Smith) replied to my Soundless Saturday post on ‘truth’ something so amazingly beautiful that I felt that it needed to be shared as a post. I hope that it lifts those of you that need it as much as it did me.

‘I just as well take truth with a spoonful of dream honey, hope sugar and a drop of disbelief.’

‘In my opinion it is best served as tea, with serenity petit fours, cakes of understanding, tolerance liqueur and plenty of disregard napkins.’

‘Depending upon the cook it may be served hot, and then the flavor is bitter or cold and then one doesn’t know what to do with it. Who would have thought that truth could complicate life when coming uninvited and unexpected?’

‘From life to life. Forever.’

Yes dear friend; from life to life, forever. Feel well soon.

Monday, 9 November 2009

I = Angels And Goddesses


















Israfel in Arabic folklore is the angel of resurrection and song. He is described as four-winged and ‘while his feet are under the 7th earth, his head reaches to the pillars of the divine throne.’

Israfel is said to look three times a day and three times during the night down into Hell and is so convulsed with grief that his tears would inundate the earth if Allah did not stop their flow.

It is said that for three years he served as a companion to Mohammed, whom he initiated in the work of a prophet, and then Gabriel came and took over and dictated the Koran to Mohammed.

Another tradition in Islam speaks of Israfel, Gabriel, Michael and Azrael being sent by Allah to the four corners of the earth to fetch seven handfuls of dust for the creation of Adam. On this mission only Azarel (the angel of death) was successful.

It is stated that Israfel is one of the four angels to be destroyed in the end of the world in which the Koran speaks will occur at the sounding of the third and final blast. There is a strong feeling that God will revive them though.

Israfel is also the angel of music and inspires people to sing, play musical instruments, and to compose music. He also encourages renewal, resurrection and regeneration. Angels speak from the mind and sing from the heart, not as we do through vocal cords.

However it is important to note that the Koran does not mention Israfel by name and so it would be incorrect to identify him as a Koranic angel.
















Ixchel is the Mayan Goddess of the moon, water, healing, childbirth, and weaving. Her name means ‘Lady Rainbow.’

The sun was Ixchel’s lover but became jealous of the morning star, who was his brother, accusing the morning star and Ixchel of being lovers. The sun was so jealous that he threw Ixchel out of the heavens and she had to take refuge with the vulture divinity.

The sun followed Ixchel and lured her back home once more, only to become jealous again. Ixchel, tired of the sun’s actions, left him and wandered through the heavens as she wished; becoming invisible if the sun came near her.

Ixchel is most commonly shown as the Old Moon Goddess (called the midwife of creation); in her main form as Mother Goddess and Weaver (who set the Universe in motion); and as the Young Moon Goddess shown with her totem animal the rabbit (the rabbit is a scribe who keeps the lunar calendar).

Friday, 6 November 2009

Welcome Home















One of my dear friends Sandy died.

It always seems so strange that you can sit on a chair beside someone and within a week they are dead.

Sandy is from my support group. Last Tuesday when I went to talk to Jacquie’s pharmacist I saw Sandy and went to go sit with her ‘Oh Hello’ she sang to me. We sat outside in the lounge for about ten minutes and her Mom and I and Sandy talked. She told me she was going to see the doctor about radiation.

Sandy told me that she was feeling alright, but that the skin would not heal and that she now had holes over her chest. Holes where the cancer had eaten through the skin. Then she went on to say ‘Enough about me how is Jacquie?’

Sandy had a passion for cats. Sandy took the feral cats from a field by her home and raised them up and got them proper homes. For Sandy, heaven won’t be heaven without some cats.

My dear Donna emailed me the following about Sandy and I want you to hear it too, just so you get a wee picture of a very wee lady with a tiny bun on her head, a wee lady with the biggest heart and the singiest ‘Oh Hello’ you could ever hear.

“I read the email about Sandy, beautiful lady. I saw her last Tuesday sitting in the lobby at Cancer Care waiting to go to radiation for the open sores on her chest. I noticed her right away and knew she was really ill. Her skin was gray and her breathing laboured. First thing I did was give her a kiss on her forehead as I had come up behind her. She looked up a little startled but her eyes lit up when she recognized who kissed her. ‘Oh Hello’ she said. We chatted for a bit. She decided she was going to head for radiation so I went to group. My memory of her will always include her voice. Oh Hello. Just because she sings it when she was happy.”

Goodnight dear friend.

Thursday, 5 November 2009

To Live


















To live content with small means,
To seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion,
To be worthy, not respectable,
And wealthy, not rich,
To study hard, think quietly, talk gently, act frankly,
To listen to stars and birds, to babes and sages, with open heart,
To bear all cheerfully, do all bravely,
Await occasions, hurry never,
In a word to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious,
Grow up through the common; this is to be my symphony.

~~ by William Henry Channing ~~

Tuesday, 3 November 2009

Times Three No. 13


















Every day has been a struggle for dear Jacquie. But she is braver than the bravest and will not fail.

Every day has been a fight to trust that we can get through this. To trust that our love for our families and each other is more important and has more of a call on our hearts than anything else that can try to take us down. Every day I lose that trust many times over.

I made plans and said God willing. Jacquie made plans and said God willing. And then he willed otherwise.

Sheldon got sick and died and we were all affected. We cannot allow ourselves to be dispassionate about each other’s lives. We are all in this together.

When I was first diagnosed with Inflammatory Breast Cancer I would sit on my couch (I called it my coffin) and cry. All I could think of was what a loser I was. I lost and everyone else won. My children lost and their children won. I felt less than. I was a diminished person.

Jacquie and I talk about this many times, because now Jacquie feels that she is the loser and it is my turn (just like she did for me) to tell her that she isn’t. “Did you think I was a loser when I was diagnosed?” ‘No.’ “Well, either are you. We’re not losers, we’re just sick.”

And now I understand, but sometimes it is hard to let those thoughts go.

It is a really long road. Once you step on the road marked ‘Cancer’ it is near impossible to get off of it. And if you are like Jacquie, Flo, Sally, Noreen, Daria and I and many others, well then you just don’t get off that road; period.

Jacquie is not well. These past few months have not been easy. The typical textbook of cancer attacks on both your mental and physical health: pain, sickness, loss of appetite, loss of weight, sadness, loss of energy, and mostly loss of hope are all pounding at her daily.

I know that if Jacquie is given enough time that she too will come out the other end. Wondering what hit her, but able to know that she can go on. I have only seen one other person as brave as Jacquie and that was her son Sheldon.

Almost four years is a long time to be sick. A long time to be told that you will be dead in six months and then when you are able to live past those six months, know that you are on borrowed time and the bomb WILL drop and when it does you better be ready.

Jacquie has been sick for almost four months but with her not being able to move you may as well times each of those months by twelve. It is a long time to be sick. Never mind the loss of her dear boy Sheldon.

It is a really long road, it just is. And I know I really know that it gets old for people. Unfortunately for some of us we don’t have the luxury to step off the road or to take that well-needed break. Trudge on, trudge on, and do not give up.

Jacquie and I are different in many respects to our cancer and what we want from people. I never wanted anyone (because I had my family and Jacquie) and Jacquie (always being the nicer sister) wants people. Not only does she want them, she needs them.

Meeting with Jacquie’s oncologist we heard very good news. That the tumor had shrunk remarkably. It is a victory. I am over the moon. Jacquie, Ben, Gil and I are all there, and what Jacquie really wants to know is if she will regain some motion. The doctor feels she will. Another victory, one that makes Jacquie at least feel ‘Well maybe?’

Jacquie started chemo again last Wednesday and is dependent on people (which she never has been in her life). It is a really long road. It just is, and it is very hard to make people appear out of thin air.

In the beginning everyone calls all the time, they have all kinds of offers, they remind you to ‘just give me a call if you need anything.’ They will come over to visit all the time……but after the weeks drag on (after all, all the time is a very long time) its like people get sick of you being sick.

They see your phone number come up and they are just too tired to answer because they know you may actually ‘need anything.’ So what happens is your phone number never comes up because you just know not to call. They are relieved and now can pretend you are getting everything done (the top hat and the rabbit must be in the house), as you are not calling them. After all, they did offer.

Last week I was so tired and coughing my guts up at Jacquie’s and she called me from the bedroom because she needed something, I was like ‘Oh God, I’m so tired; I just want to go home.’ But then I knew that it isn’t Jacquie’s fault and I knew that I would have to get my shit together and go and help her. Jacquie did everything and anything for me. For shit sake she gave me enemas. I tell her and through our tears we laugh our heads off.

It is a really long road, it just is. It is not a road for the faint of heart.

I get sick of not doing anything fun, not seeing anyone, sick of even answering the question ‘How are you feeling?’ Because the truth is no one wants to really know. When you find that person who really does want to know (few and far between); the funny thing is you don’t feel sick of answering the question.

To the many other people who ask the question the usual response is ‘fine’ because to be honest it is easier. You may as well let them off the hook in the first few minutes. Many people don’t know how to react or don’t want to hear it.

I see that Jacquie has learnt this already. I see her get the phone and say ‘good, fine, alright’ even though she is feeling far from all of those things. On the other hand what do you say ("I mean I’m not dead, so I guess I’m fine").

I know that we are all entrenched in our own personalities and lives and loves and tendencies. I know that we sell and buy our own excuses. I know that none of us like change and we all like our comfortable life if we are fortunate enough to have one.

I am thankful that I had Jacquie and my family who took exceptional care of me even when they needed a break, even when it got old, even when they got sick of hearing me say “I feel like shit.”

Jacquie and my family did that for me because they knew I needed them. I needed other people too….

Jacquie was throwing-up and having to go to the bathroom, poor girl. I was helping her and then went home. I too was throwing-up and Nathan called and said ‘Auntie Jacquie needs you, can you go back?’ I was just about to and phoned Gil and all I can say is thank God homecare came, because I was sick and Jacquie was sick and the last thing I wanted to do was go anywhere.

Jacquie just like you did for me, whatever it takes, for as long as it takes, you won’t have to ask me and you won’t have to thank me. And I will always be sick of being sick, but never ever will I be sick of being there for you.

The light shined bright the other night though. There was a Beast, Belle (dressed as Cinderella), a Witch and her Mama, and a Grandma/A.J. all on a crisp Halloween evening laughing and going door to door. I drove up and lunged towards them like Quasimodo because I can barely move my leg and pounced on Grandma/A.J. in the wheelchair and asked if she had fun and she did. I could see it.

Beast (Ben) pushed Grandma/A.J. (Jacquie) while Mama (Angelique) went up to the houses with Belle (Kayla) and a Witch (Josephine). Amongst all of this magic there were many creatures running from door to door, there were even boxes walking around.

But best of all it was a good night where a mother and her other brave son were able to go for a lovely evening stroll.

*artwork by Kelly Vivanco

Monday, 2 November 2009

H = Angels And Goddesses


















Harahel is the radiant angel who protects libraries, archives, schools and universities. Harahel opens our minds and hearts to new ideas while inspiring us to use our knowledge in life-affirming ways.

Harahel is a guiding spirit who teaches us that knowledge is useless without wisdom. Harahel encourages true wisdom and through that wisdom we are to generate kindness and love. Harahel is an intellectual who is always busy in the great library of Heaven.




















Hygieia is the Greek Goddess of health and cleanliness. She is the daughter of Asclepius who is the God of medicine and healing and was a companion of the Goddess Aprhodite. Her sisters were Panakeia (All-Cure) and Iaso (Remedy).

Hygieia is usually shown holding a snake which drinks from a cup that she also holds. The snake is depicted as a symbol of healing and rejuvenation in this case, as the snake sheds its skin, so too can the human body shed disease only to survive it.

Hygieia is the source of the word ‘hygiene.’ Although she is the goddess of physical health she is also a protectress of mental health.

Hygieia became extremely important after the sufferings of the plague had directed special attention to sanitary matters.

*artwork of Harahel by my very dear friend Julie-Ann Bowden http://heavenleighart.blogspot.com/

*artwork of Hygieia by Gustav Klimt