The Look

The other day I was at The Farm waiting for my mentor to show for a meeting. There was a young man sitting with a much older woman at the table next to me. He looked like her grandson. She was a sweet older woman with white hair cut in a cute bob, parted on the side and held back with bobby pins. She was quietly sitting across from him and though he said a few things to her she didn't respond. Just sat there quietly.

Eventually, what appeared to be her two children, returned to the table. She looked at them with her beautiful blue eyes and as I watched her look at them I recognized the look. She knew she should love them, but she didn't recognize them. Her son gave her a cookie, which she enjoyed, but she didn't really know who he was - this kind man bringing her a cookie and speaking sweetly to her.

It reminded me of my mom, before the Alzheimer's got particularly brutal. She would sit with us, interact as best she could, but you could tell that while she knew she should love us she didn't know who we were to her.

It must be so disconcerting - to one moment know where you are and who you are with and then the next moment feel completely alone and scared.

I miss my mom. I wish I could go back and be more compassionate to her. I wish I could have loved her more. Better.

I hope she knew it was Juniper and I who were with her, holding her hands and stroking her hair, telling her she would be alright when she left this world. I hope she didn't feel alone.

J.

Activity versus Inactivity.: Some thoughts on stillness.

I feel like I have always been busy, or always had so many things I wanted to do, get done, check off my list. I have had this feeling on a daily basis as well as in life in general.

Lately I have slowed down. I am slow. I'm inactive and yet it feels OK.

im not writing
im not going to the gym
i'm not doing anything regularly

im ok resting

This feeling is different.

It still stresses me out a little bit to not be doing, to be inactive in all ways, but it feels right.

I feel like I need to become completely still in order to move forward.

I don't know what that means or what it looks like or what it will look like, but that's how it feels - like I just need to stop spinning in order to move forward with any sort of real direction...even though I don't know what that direction is right now.

So even though it feels counterintuitive and it feels wrong compared to what everybody else is doing and it feels strange it still feels right to just slow down and be still.

so that's what I am aiming for I guess.

at least today.

in stillness,
jessica