I’m waiting for the morning to start. Bill is still sleeping. Had to sneak out. Didn’t want to disturb his beauty sleep. Ha, ha! Like sleep could remove his beer belly and love handles.
“Stop that! Lucy, are you listening to me?” At eight years old, Lucy had a perfect view of all ten elevator buttons. The last three floors were dedicated to psychiatric services.
Lucy pushed all three buttons, then slyly glanced at the man with glasses who returned her smile.
Who am I who comes to this strange land of plenty, of breezes and olive trees, or so I’m told, and sand as far as my feet can walk.
Who has gone before me? I do not know. The sun is my roof, moving past an invisible horizon. No shadows form beneath the brush along a path beneath the sun’s light.
I check the reflections in the glass doors just before we enter the Veteran’s Hospital in Fresno, California. I’m twice the size of my husband and I’m a small woman. Every four months or so he loses more muscle tissue. No one mentions wasting disease, only arthritis and the possibility of type 2 diabetes.
The outlines of houses and trees were barely becoming visible. The air was still, neither cool nor warm. A door opened on the upper deck of the Shelton house.
The divine source is like a sun, tremendous creativity in the form of compassionate intelligence. Life emanates from divine source as dynamic, active. Human life enters the earth with 90% memory and 10% new energy for creative exploration.
Life force is an emanation from divine source that creates life or living tissue out of matter. Matter as particulars in space.
I can’t count the number of times Zorro was taken to the vet nor the number of blood tests that were done that showed slight elevations here or there, but as the very concerned vet explained, “There is nothing definitive, nothing that points to why his health is deteriorating. Even so, he has remarkable energy.”