Monday, April 25, 2011

This Necessary Silence

No words these past days.

The vortex continues its all-consuming grip-- my cat has been at the vet for a week, and I don't know if she'll come home. And now my son just informed me tonight he needs surgery. Cat: surgery. Son: surgery. Too much, is what I say.

My question: if I go to the Southern Hemisphere, where centrifugal force moves in a direction opposite to that here in the Northern Hemisphere, can I possibly slow things down enough to enable me to step away from this ever-compounding chaos?

It's certainly worth a try.


Meanwhile the world spins on.

Spring is ridiculously hesitant in Seattle this year, weeks behind the expected relief of flowers in bloom. Morning dawns with a winter chill, and the rain just seems to go on forever. I hunch into the wind on my walk to work, a leopard-print umbrella offering meager protection.


I love my job.

We are hustling orders out the door,
and reorders trickle in steadily.
I crack the whip whenever there's a pause in production.

And yet.

This afternoon while we painted, we listened -- on YouTube -- to Wanda Sykes and George Carlin. How can one fail to find cheer and optimism in laughter?

The brain is easily distracted, and for that I am grateful.


  1. Poor you. Things seem to be piling up. I suggest a two week holiday alone; somewhere quiet, warm, and theraputic.

    I'm having pet probs at the moment too, so I sympathise. Kushti bok. Cro.

  2. T. I do hope your cat pulls through. The only 'problem' right now with coming to the Southern Hemisphere would be that we are heading into winter ... Loving work is good because it gives you a 'center', a palce to stand strong and work back out to the rest of the world.

  3. It's too much. Yes, it is. And yet, It Is. G-D it!
    I'm glad work is your tether, because you are works (works'? work's?) tether too.

  4. when it rains, it pours. In nature, and in our individual lives. I'm worried about your cat, more worried about your son.

    Love and best wishes to you and your family, T.

  5. Things will find a balance eventually, good/bad pretty/ugly. No one's life has ALL the good stuff.
    Hope your cat pulls through and give my best wishes to your son.

  6. May your son's surgery go quickly and successfully. May your kitty come home again. May you keep loving your work and those with whom you are working. May the flowers come NOW.

    Love, C.

  7. Hang in there, T! It's all coming in at once which means it'll all leave at once.
    My heart hurts for you. Sending you love and prayers and white light,

  8. T., i've forgotten the date, but are you still planning the get-away with your sisters? is that soon? i hope....
    the only other thing i can recommend from personal experience is long walks in natural settings. no matter the weather. there is something healing about the left-right-left-right physicality & the calming of the synapse explosions in the brain, that occurs with the attention to nature. i dont's all i can suggest.

  9. For you, your son, your cat, fervent good wishes. xoxo