Sunday, November 18, 2012

The Kaleidoscope of Life

Back Yard in Rain
After the longest dry spell in history July-October, we seem to be getting the longest wet period. I should not complain. The snow is resting beautifully on the mountains behind town, my brother, Doug, and I just heard that November is the wettest month in WA. My friend, David, in VT is trying to toughen himself up for the oncoming cold and snow. 

How could I ever go back to VT, when here the temps are 45-50, and we seldom keep any snow where I live, at 500 feet above sea level ...even less downtown at sea level.

Over my back fence, the colors are brighter in the rain

I had an enforced day off on Friday because of a lack of patients, and
finished and sent an application for an
Art job. Each time I contemplate a 
Major Life Change, I am fearful...of the
Unknown, I suppose. I left an abusive 
husband, went back to OT--and left 
several times, moved 3,000 miles to 
start a new life in the West. I've turned
down a job in an advertising agency,
an opportunity to design fabric, the 
possibility of becoming a nationally-known
sculpture. Then there are all the other daily
permutations of life and choices:                               

The Third Mexican Table Cloth

the route one takes to work, the person one meets by chance, the opportunity that lasts only a moment. 

At 65, I am constantly doing Life Review...
and at work, treating patients who may be
coming up against their own mortality for the first time, with a shock. Are the particular choices  that combine into the uniqueness of who we are, inevitable, or are all the aspects of each day like the pieces of colored glass in a kaleidoscope, falling into different colorful patterns with each twist.

The Day of the Dead guys, 4" tall, taking on clothes

I just finished reading GHOSTWRITTEN
by David Mitchell. I liked it better than
CLOUD ATLAS, and had to buy a copy.
A lot about chance in that book...and the 
world as we know it teetering on a pyramid of chance events. 

We each create our own unique version of
the Universe. Is our final picture, or our ever-changing image of ourselves, shaped inevitably by the colored pieces of our beings, or are there an infinite number of patterns we could fall into?

Winter arrangement, Downtown Port Angeles
Now that I am here in the West, I am happy getting ready for Mexican-Themed Thanksgiving with family and friends. If I were in VT, I'd be getting ready for cross-country skiing and Thanksgiving with different family and friends.

Blossom where you Are!



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