Just a thought….

First the lateral flow test,
self-administered.
Register result on NHS
website – negative!

Text message, proof!
Drive to care home.
Sanitise – tog up
Face mask, gloves, apron.

The locked door opened, smiling face
Proof? We trust people here.
Wide-open arms, distanced,
Then, not quite so distant…

Chat, chat, chat
Laugh, laugh, laugh
Tea and biscuits
Slurp, slurp, slurp.

Wide-open arms
No distance to speak of.
Wheel to exit
De tog.

Into the larger world
tore myself away.
It’s hard to leave
Muttering to myself.

Back in time for the evening meal at the monastery.
Different worlds,
worlds apart.
Same heart.

Remembering Norman who died this day one year ago.

Asia seems to have recovered her appetite, energy and voice. We think she is out of danger. We are very grateful for the kind words sent our way and the merit sent her way.

Terry in Edmonton, Canada.

clearing clouds ~
soft between thumb and forefinger
a new beech leaf

Anon

People labour on for years, honing their craft, their loves and their passions. Haiku, fostering/loving/caring for live things, perhaps inspiring others to follow their delights to share with others. There are many and varied ways we express ourselves, our deepest selves. It’s the heart of it, be it a towering building or a humble hut, a few choice words a single note that brings us, briefly, within and beyond our ‘selves’. Moments of transcendence.

This post is for those very dear people who were part of my miss spent youth*
.
I’d never have used *that expression to describe my pre-monastic life however one of those dear people described their youth in that way and they got me thinking. Did we ‘miss spend’ or did we live those years opening our cells to extend past our individual selves? To give of ourselves. Extending wider, deeper, multi-coloured into the larger world. Moments of transcendence, each in our own unique way, we ‘go on’.

Thanks to Anon for your ongoing inspiration.

Bowing back to known and unknown Friends. This little cat with paws folded has captured my heart, offer her your thoughts since she is struggling right now.

At the still point of the turning world.
Neither flesh nor fleshless.
Neither from nor towards.
At the still point, there the dance is.
But neither arrest nor movement.
And do not call it fixity.
Where past and future are gathered.
Neither movement from no Towards.
Neither ascent nor decline.
Except for the point, the still point
There would be no dance,
and there is only the dance.

T.S.Eliot

Thank you for your support of my ‘going on’. Thank you to all those who have sent cards, wrote emails, left FB comments and ‘likes’. At present, I’m ‘going on’ as the cook for around a month so I am not able to respond individually.