Identity

A break from the blog is in order. On sick days I am too incapacitated to think or write and I still roam the earth as if I were Munch's actual Scream.

On good days I leap into life. In early May I flew west to WA and communed with my family and friends. I walked the beaches in mist and rain, played cards, celebrated Mothers' Day, hosted off- season egg hunts, browsed used bookstores, went to the Idiom Theater, the Bellingham Circus Guild, saw my sister at her tribal dance Hafla, and saw my west coast doctors. There were no pain free days, but there were Pleasant Distractions.

And then to the hospital, but what can you do?

Then I managed to fly East and reunite with my mate and other mammals and to see my east coast doctors. This past week I drove us 375 miles to Cape Cod and we stayed in Provincetown and saw fin whales and humpbacks and waves filled with seals. Then my mate drove us on to Boston and we walked the cobbled brick paths and visited the Gardener Museum.

So on bad days I am too sick too blog, and on good days I am too desperately caught up in trying to catch up with living on this beautiful earth. Or I have quiet times in which I wonder how I got here, how I got so sick, and who this makes me. Who are we without our goals and dreams? Who are we without our jobs and pastimes? Who are we when the body breaks over and over again, and the limpet seems to leak from its shell and yet still lives?

I plan to set new goals as best as I can. Right now they are still dominated by the desperate desire to get a diagnosis and hopefully a plan for treatment before my poor head explodes once and for all, and before my leg requires a cane or wheelchair. But I also wish to get back to my writing desk and to tell some stories and create some poems. And this summer I have a house to pack and a household to relocate to Texas. Imagine that.

So mainly what I know is that identity is a shifting cloud. Or maybe it is the entire sky. What I have learned in recent years is to identify with the bulb, and not the flower.

TTFN (TaTa For Now...)