It is dusk on the Lost Lagoon,And we two dreaming the dusk away,Beneath the drift of a twilight grey,Beneath the drowse of an ending day,And the curve of a golden moon.It is dark in the Lost Lagoon,And gone are the depths of haunting blue,The grouping gulls, and the old canoe,The singing firs, and the dusk and–you,And gone is the golden moon.O! lure of the Lost Lagoon,–I dream to-night that my paddle blursThe purple shade where the seaweed stirs,I hear the call of the singing firsIn the hush of the golden moon. Emily Pauline Johnson
Chronic illness is a long and often frustrating journey. It has no clear parameters. Some days it is better, some days it is worse. Often you can’t predict when either circumstance will occur. We experience loss in different forms, jobs, life roles, financial, social, our sense of self. We experience pain both physical and emotional. We have plenty to deal with. Why should we also be made to feel we must justify our right to feel upset or overwhelmed?I, like most patients, know in many respects I am lucky. I count my blessings each day. But the days it gets too much and I’m barely holding on, a kind word or a listening ear is what is needed, not a reminder that others have it worse. Think about what you’re truly saying when you utter those words.
A day at home. Well not quite. I got a doll for Clarzie for her birthday and a card. Clear decisions. No regrets. Forced once more to go the long way round due to blocked pathway. Pricks they are too because it would have only taken a very little thoughtfulness to have given me access.
COULD BE BAD. COULD BE GOOD.
TODAY THE ALFA WENT. Pat and Col came and took him away. Turned out That Pat has sepsis as well. Comes over ill like I do. Needs heaps of antibiotics. So- he got my favourite car ever for $ 100.
COULD BE BAD. COULD BE GOOD.
And then 2 people sent me messages offering me lifts to Bellingen NA and I accepted. Thank God. I needed it. I enjoyed it.
Amazing to be strong and well enough to do a day like yesterday and then a meeting this evening.
Now its Facetime with Eden.
Making NO judgements on the events of today.
COULD BE BAD BUT IT COULD BE GOOD.
The Story of the Taoist Farmer
A man who lived on the northern frontier of China was skilled in interpreting events. One day, for no reason, his horse ran away to the nomads across the border. Everyone tried to console him, but his father said, “What makes you so sure this isn’t a blessing?” Some months later his horse returned, bringing a splendid nomad stallion. Everyone congratulated him, but his father said, “What makes you so sure this isn’t a disaster?” Their household was richer by a fine horse, which his son loved to ride. One day he fell and broke his hip. Everyone tried to console him, but his father said, “What makes you so sure this isn’t a blessing?”
A year later the nomads came in force across the border, and every able-bodied man took his bow and went into battle. The Chinese frontiersmen lost nine of every ten men. Only because the son was lame did the father and son survive to take care of each other. Truly, blessing turns to disaster, and disaster to blessing: the changes have no end, nor can the mystery be fathomed.
The Lost Horse,