Archive for the ‘Making lemonade’ Tag

Creating the world anew   Leave a comment

Dearest Mary-chan (and other friends, known and unknown),

Do you have a link, through Emily perhaps, to what is happening now amongst the young in Egypt, with the world (as it were) to be remade by them — now? Can you imagine —if it were us? How can anyone sleep a single wink or pause for anything with such a great challenge? Educare: How would you prepare your very own group of people??? If the medium were the message. I can’t remember when I have ever wanted anything as much as I would want, now, to be one of them, with both the vitality of youth and whatever I might have learned in all of my life about — everything!!!! Remembering back to summer of 1971 on The Farm — in all of my ignorance: The Movement for a New Society!!! That’s what we were supposedly part of; Elise had brought us together under that rubric… Do you remember? That seductive smell in the air? Of possibility?

Last night, from my bed — where I think about Endings — I hosted a Seder; I imagine you must have been part of one also — focused on Egypt, on the Egyptians overthrowing their own Pharoah — and being now in the very position of the Hebrews in the desert; well, no, not really, because they’re in their own homeland. I was thinking of the chaos that ensued after The Great Escape, the infighting, Moses tearing his hair out because his people complained they were better off in Egypt as slaves than wandering in the desert with nothing, and how he went up into the mountains while they prayed to the God of the Egyptians — and he brought back a fragment of social/political organization, the Ten Commandments, which only got as far as to say Don’t kill, Don’t steal, Don’t commit adultery; Respect your parents, Be faithful to the God of your tribe, Keep the Sabbath (a really brilliant commandment) — but even when multiplied into the 613 laws of Deuteronomy and Leviticus and later the thousands of pages of commentary by all the men in the lineage that sought to discern God’s intent for his people, it wasn’t enough (lo dayenu) and even later, later, later, with the Lefty thinkers continuing to think about how to bring about the Peaceable Society, and Quakers and Jooboos, etc., etc., and law schools and, by now, I’m sure, doctorates in comparative law that would bring together the best, the deepest thinking of all people of all times, does anyone know? If so, can we get a quick summary, and send links to anyone whose name we can learn, as input into this Great Process, this Great Moment?

I know I’m being silly; it must come from them, what is real for them, that this is just another moment in a perhaps endless, incompletable process —- but I yearn for it so badly: I am grateful to my mother and father who, in their way, instilled in me this passionate thirst; it keeps me going despite much and worsening pain. An alter kocker, I watch from the sidelines, cheering the team on, against such odds…. Go, team, go: Learn right now how to love one another so that the least are empowered to speak and are listened to and given their due, so that every kind of crazy diversity is respected…so that brilliant strategies are imagined to even include “the enemies”……………. . . . . .

Those times, forty years ago, when we caught one another’s gaze and had to look away, or when we started laughing uncontrollably, wasn’t it about this, the gorgeous silk purse to be made of this old sow’s ear of a world — that we could almost see?

I wrote this to you, special friend of that special moment; we met when both had such naked eyes. Having written this inspired by the memory of those times, I feel I should also post this letter in my blog, which is my present Work, my attempt to squeeze out a few drops of honey from so many lemons. I hope that doesn’t diminish it as a personal message to you.


Posted April 20, 2011 by judybloomgardener in Uncategorized

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About the lemons rather than the lemonade   Leave a comment

The Facts of Life of a Hard-Working Beetle

I like to make lemonade and, in fact, have drunk literally gallons of it these last few days, combined with ginger and honey, in my efforts to heal a nasty case of bronchitis.  But it reminds me of the fundamental fact that I have been gifted with a lot of lemons.  I have a lot of lemons and there’s no way around that fact.  At the worst moment of my day, when I take my first step in the morning, I remember that it doesn’t matter what heroic things I may have done in all the previous years of my life.  All that matters is that I make a heroic effort NOW: Can I make it, groaning and crying, to the bathroom NOW?  That’s all there is.  And the outcome seems uncertain.  My life depends on an extremely wobbly lady, keeping many things requiring good judgment, good physical judgment, in mind while fire alarm bells are going off inside her head. If I make it, and so far I have, each time, I get to put in a ten-hour day of patient care.  I am the patient, but while my careworker is, officially, the worker, the one being paid, I’m definitely working alongside her all the time.  So, my realization for today is that, yes, I may be retired, I may be on disability, but each life stage has its work and this is my work.  Before it was something else but now it is being the patient.   I don’t empty the pee bag but I get it emptied; I don’t bandage my legs but I get them bandaged.  The work that is being done on my body is what’s happening.  I am working hard, long hours every day, because that’s what life requires of me in this phase.  Surprising work for me to be involved with as I have never been drawn to anything like nursing.  But here it is, here it is.  My friend, who had fallen on hard times, is applying for any job that could boost her income enough for her to survive.  Today she was looking into telemarketing.  Whatever we need in order to survive.

I feel so much like an organism, any organism, doing the things an organism has to do.  Making heroic efforts to walk to the bathroom to eliminate my wastes, spending most of the day trying to get the continually accumulating fluids moved out of my body.  Like any hard-working person, I look forward to the few hours left after satisfying the basic needs, to relax, which mostly means connecting with others.

The facts of life of a hard-working beetle.