Even When the Light is Low (Tom Prasada-Rao)

When last we left our SheRa, she (and her husband) had tested positive for COVID (double ugh).  Our first time and, in the grand scheme of things, it seemed to be a fairly mild case (other than that hacking cough and phlegmy build-up).  It almost seemed a relief to have an excuse to lay low and cancel commitments (not that my calendar is that full these days anyway).  The weakness/fatigue continues though.

I was negative by Friday, meaning I could go to Sarah's that evening for her Christmas tree decorating; Rob joined us too, the background music was of course The Roches' We Three Kings (a family tradition), and we could almost pretend it was just like it used to be.  Silly Me!

Being well again, it was lovely to get back to our bereavement group (3rd attendance); I love those women (and a few men), who are so kind and loving and suffering too.  My 2nd therapy appointment was also amazing; she's a wonderful listener, asks just the right questions, and provides A-ha! moments that comfort as well as enlighten me.

Duyen (E's girlfriend) sent us back to Florida with a box of Eric's belongings, and we finally tackled those; I kept a hooded rainjacket/windbreaker that I know will come in handy, a denim jacket with a cloth hoodie, and a sweater... and Chico a few tank tops (he's especially delighted with the Pink Floyd design).  We gave Sarah a few shirts, Colin a hiking/gardening hat, and Rob a nice jacket and lots of ties (two of which were actually his to begin with - ha!).  Everything else we will donate.

Oh, and we chose button-down shirts for the teddy bears that my friend Suzanne offered to make for each of us.  No deadline, sweet memories... 💗

Speaking of Memories... I'm also trying to move forward with two separate plans for remembrance:  a tree in a City of Pembroke Pines park... and a bench in the Hope Garden, both with plaques.  I will keep you all posted.

I'm sure it's the residual tiredness from COVID, and grief brain fog, but I feel very "out of it" these days... as if I'm detached from participation in life and only looking down from above, in observation mode.  I've pretty much decided not to decorate for Christmas this year; the thought of hauling boxes from our storage locker down the hall is daunting and exhausting.  The box with the front door wreath is on the top shelf, so I'll get that down and installed.  I also just bought myself a Christmas (well, a gnome) mug, which I will use every day during the season.  No Santa collection, no Buddha with the Santa hat, regular (instead of holiday) candles; I. Just. Can't. Do. It. This. Year... and that's okay... 🎅🎄🎁

P.S.  Today marks ten weeks since Eric died... 💔

SONG:  Even When the Light is Low by Tom Prasada-Rao (written 11.7.23)

BOOK:  It's OK That You're Not OK: Meeting Grief and Loss in a Culture That Doesn't Understand by Megan Devine, Mark Nepo (Foreword)

POEM(S):  I Want My Grief by Peg Runnels

to be brilliant, fast and gone.

Like Mozart. Or Stevie Ray.

Like fireworks. Boom! Flash!

Ooh, ahh. OK, done. Let’s go.

I want my grief to be brave.

Hurts more now, heals faster,

Grandma said, pouring salt

On a skinned knee.

I want to stand up to grief,

Stand it down, like the

Tiny man, big tank

In Tiananmen Square.

Because. Because if I am brave,

Bold, salty, open enough

The tank, the bleeding, the tears

Will stop sooner. I tell myself.

But grief laughs. Humbles me.

I lose keys, break cups, get lost.

Asked at CarMax Why are you

Selling this car? I burst

Into an embarrassment of tears.

A friend says, One doesn’t have grief,

Grief has you.

We wrestle, to the mat. I’m pinned.

But sometimes I break free.

Break patterns instead of dishes.

Start to write myself a new story,

To fling myself toward yes,

Begin to say, Oh. Now this. . . . Observe

What life brings. Reframe. Say,

I’m not wrestling grief,

We’re dancing.

So, I put my right foot in . . .

And turn myself about.

Yes by William Stafford

It could happen any time, tornado,

earthquake, Armageddon. It could happen.

Or sunshine, love, salvation.

It could, you know. That’s why we wake

and look out – no guarantees

in this life.

But some bonuses, like morning,

like right now, like noon,

like evening.

What the Day Gives by Jeanne Lohmann

Suddenly, sun. Over my shoulder

in the middle of gray November

what I hoped to do comes back,

asking.

Across the street the fiery trees

hold onto their leaves,

red and gold in the final months

of this unfinished year,

they offer blazing riddles.

In the frozen fields of my life

there are no shortcuts to spring,

but stories of great birds in migration

carrying small ones on their backs,

predators flying next to warblers

they would, in a different season, eat.

Stunned by the astonishing mix in this uneasy world

that plunges in a single day from despair

to hope and back again, I commend my life

to Ruskin’s difficult duty of delight,

and to that most beautiful form of courage,

to be happy.

QUOTE:  “Life is a hard battle anyway. If we laugh and sing a little as we fight the good fight of freedom, it makes it all go easier. I will not allow my life’s light to be determined by the darkness around me.” ~ Sojourner Truth

$20 Bill - for George Floyd (Tom Prasada-Rao)

As you may recall, I am not on Facebook anymore, so I am dependent on others to alert me to concerts and music-related items generating from that medium.  Yesterday a friend posted to our local sf_folk (South Florida) list that musician friends were covering a new song by *another* musician friend... and I hadn't even heard about the original yet!

Tom Prasada-Rao is a gifted songwriter, a spiritual guru, and a brave soul who experienced a tough battle with cancer last year, and continues treatment, even during this pandemic.  I am grateful to consider TPR a friend, and of course had to delve into this cool phenomenon.  Here is but an overview of those who have passed his powerful song along the pipeline:  Mary Gauthier, Ellis Paul, Margo Hennebach & Mark Saunders, Karl Werne, and so many more.  The lyrics are included in the song link, but I am reprinting them below because they deserve repeating... 💙

Some people die for honor
Some people die for love
Some people die while singing
To the heavens above 
Some people die believing
In the cross on Calvarys’ hill 
And some people die
In the blink of an eye
For a $20 bill

Some people go out in glory
(Yeah) with the wind at their back
Some get to tell their own story
Write their own epitaph
Sometimes you see it coming 
Sometimes you don’t know until
You run out of breath
With a knee on your neck
For a $20 bill

Brother, I never knew you 
And now I never will 
But I make this promise to you
I’ll remember you still

Take, eat - let this be our communion
It’s time to break the bread
Do this in remembrance 
Just like the good book said
Sometimes the wine is a sacrament 
Sometimes the blood is just spilled
Sometimes the law
Is the devils’ last straw
The future unfulfilled
Like the dream they killed
For a $20 bill

by Tom Prasada-Rao 5/28/20 Silver Spring MD

Also, referencing the history of my graphic above, this... yet one more example of this adminstration's racism.


SONG:  $20 Bill (for George Floyd) by Tom Prasada-Rao (Tom's voice is whisper-like while he's speaking, but when he begins singing, at about the one-minute mark, you can hear him clearly...  :-)

BOOK:  Hands Up, Don’t Shoot by Jennifer E. Cobbina

POEM:  truth by Gwendolyn Brooks

And if sun comes
How shall we greet him?
Shall we not dread him,
Shall we not fear him
After so lengthy a
Session with shade?

Though we have wept for him,
Though we have prayed
All through the night-years—
What if we wake one shimmering morning to
Hear the fierce hammering
Of his firm knuckles
Hard on the door?

Shall we not shudder?—
Shall we not flee
Into the shelter, the dear thick shelter
Of the familiar
Propitious haze?

Sweet is it, sweet is it
To sleep in the coolness
Of snug unawareness.

The dark hangs heavily
Over the eyes.

QUOTE:  "There comes a point where we need to stop just pulling people out of the river.  We need to go upstream and find out why they're falling in." ~ Archbishop Desmond Tutu

Sleeping Beauty (Tom Prasada-Rao)

Remember the sleeping spell scene in Sleeping Beauty?  

Until my retirement in late-June 2019, I led a very deadline-driven life.  I have been accused of thriving on chaos, and I have recently embraced the truth in that.  Seems that the only way I could get anything done was to fill my life with so many events and obligations that I had only a sliver of white space in my calendar, and that's where I shoehorned/crowbarred in whatever unexpectedly popped up.  Effective, yes.  Attractive, no.  I always made it happen, but at a great cost to my emotional, mental, and physical health.

Only a handful of people know this, but... my greatest fantasy, for decades, was that the whole world would go into a one-week deep freeze/sleep (except for me!), so that I could furiously catch up... on e-mails, phone calls, concert booking, work duties.

Not that I conjured this virus, but it seems my vision has come to fruition.  Not to minimize the real risks, harm, and financial setbacks associated with COVID-19, and I have immense gratitude for those who remain on the front lines of essential people... but most of us are now experiencing some sort of suspended animation, during which we are being given an *opportunity* to re-calibrate our lives.  We have been offered the gift of time, which was always in short supply.  We can read, bingewatch, exercise, meditate, eat healthy, connect with family and friends (whether up-close-and-personal or from afar).  We can engage in Radical Self-Care.  All that is asked of us is to be patient and follow the rules to stay safe and well.  I am finally getting around to some projects long on my To Do List:  whittling down the e-mails in my inbox, writing in my Grandmother's Journal for Colin, fine-tuning our will, etc.

Yes, there is a tendency to go stir-crazy but, honestly, going inward will serve us well during this difficult time, re-examining our lives and tweaking how we can come out better people on the other side of this.  The struggle is real, but so is the challenge...  :-)

P.S.  Yesterday I watched Brittany Runs a Marathon on Amazon Prime, which reveals at the end of the movie that it's based on a true story.  I posted on our family group text, saying that I thought, post-coronavirus, we should run/walk a 5K together.  We're all in!


“People are getting restless,” Jimmy Kimmel said on Monday night of the growing social discord in the country. “Especially the people who aren’t too bright.”

Thus began a lengthy monologue from the Jimmy Kimmel Live host, during which he savagely mocked the protesters as well as President Trump for putting wind behind their sails.

“I get that people need to go back to work. I do. But the point of stay-at-home is to get a lid on this so we can get back to work, and then stay at work,” Kimmel said, before comparing the protesters—many of whom have carried signs in support of Trump—to a death cult. “I’m starting to think that these characters who support Trump might be suicidal. They seem to be fighting hardest for the things that will kill them. They want the freedom to gather in large groups during an epidemic. They want guns. They want pollution. I figured it out. They want to die, and they’re taking us down with them. It’s like if the Titanic was headed towards the iceberg, and half of the passengers were like, ‘Can you please speed this thing up?’”


SONG:  Sleeping Beauty by Tom Prasada-Rao

BOOK:  Let the Great World Spin by Colum McCann

POEM:  Notes to Myself During National Poetry Month, 2020 by Dante Di Stefano

Remember, bluets still sprout
beneath your boots
when you take your daughter
for a walk by the river.

Even though an orange snow fence
surrounds the jungle gym
in the park down the street,
there’s the low fork
of a young oak to sit her in.

Remember, even if the hoops
have all been unscrewed
from the backboards,
you can still feign a hook shot for her.

Remember, if the balcony
is closed,
sing through the wall.

Find the riot, unquelled,
in the cherry blossom’s center.

Remember, beneath each scarf,
bandanna, and surgical mask,
there is a throat
that might break into sudden
surprising aria.

Remember, how astonished
your daughter is
at motorcycles and ladybugs,
a pebble she finds
in a neighbor’s driveway,
the stars, the moon, mayflies,
streetlights seen from
the window before bed.

Remember, the image of
your wife’s brown hair
sprawled on the pillow
in the blue hour
of any morning
is worth more
than all your poems.

Remember, even an angry word
from her
is worth more than
the best line of poetry
you have ever read.

Remember, your poems
cannot shelter you,
or make a roof
for the ones you love.
Remember, the earth’s
sole vocation is to astonish.

Remember, the angels of the earth
choir themselves
with mouths full of sod.

Remember, glaciers melt,
oceans rise,
coastlines recede.

Remember, everything can happen
at once and always,
and God, and heaven, and hell.

Remember, the world is
inside you,
the meadow between
one clover and one bee.

Remember, the world is sweet
and spinning, still.

QUOTE:  "Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change." ~ Alfred Lord Tennyson

Travel Well (Amy Speace, Jagoda, Tom Prasada-Rao, Cary Cooper)

I've written before of the monthly concert series I help present at our local UU church - it was an amazing show this past weekend, as usual, but I had to write in detail about a particular highlight:

When I arrived at the church Saturday early evening, Jud Caswell, Dave Potts and Friction Farm (Christine Stay and Aidan Quinn) filled me in - they had already been planning to work up a song together to do at the end for an encore...

Jud is friends with Amy Speace and, synchronistically, she, Jagoda (her percussionist), Tom Prasada-Rao and Cary Cooper had just finished writing (in Dallas) a song for Vic Heyman (it started in a noodling session) - when TPR and friends heard that Reba was planning to be at Labyrinth, they e-mailed the song to Jud, and he and Dave learned it that afternoon, teaching it to Friction Farm at the UU...

When the fourth (last) round was over, and received with enthusiastic applause, they gathered on-stage to sing this amazing song, called Travel Well... Jud on lead, Dave on harmony and Christine and Aidan providing back-up vocals and instrumentation - it was stunning, mentioning Rachel Bissex (bringing the wine!)... and the last verse was about Vic leaving his heart (Reba) behind, and their friends promising to take care of her.

First time performed in public... live at the Labyrinth Cafe - it was already a magical night... but that was the proverbial icing... :-)

On another note, I was with a friend from 7:00 this morning until 7 tonight, taking her to various appointments (doctor and otherwise) throughout the course of the day - what could have been a long, stressful experience was made calm and relaxing... because I brought my book with me, and had the opportunity to read off and on all day, uninterrupted and guilt-free, finally finishing it...

P.S. More SMM here and here...

SONG: Travel Well by Amy Speace, Jagoda, Tom Prasada-Rao and Cary Cooper (lyrics as yet unavailable... but you can listen here...)

BOOK: Eyes Of An Angel: Soul Travel, Spirit Guides, Soul Mates, And The Reality Of Love by Paul Elder

POEM: This Only by Czeslaw Milosz

A valley and above it forests in autumn colors.

A voyager arrives, a map leads him there.

Or perhaps memory. Once long ago in the sun,

When snow first fell, riding this way

He felt joy, strong, without reason,

Joy of the eyes. Everything was the rhythm

Of shifting trees, of a bird in flight,

Of a train on the viaduct, a feast in motion.

He returns years later, has no demands.

He wants only one, most precious thing:

To see, purely and simply, without name,

Without expectations, fears, or hopes,

At the edge where there is no I or not-I.

QUOTE: "It is better to travel well than to arrive" ~ Buddha