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Jane and I will be at Book Passage at a “mini-literary festival” on November 10th from 1 to 4.

The theme is journeying and we will be talking about the Inner Journey, the Journey Inward.

It would be wonderful if you could attend.

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There is so much going on in the world, that each of us must continue to come back to ourselves, to our breath, to noticing what is important to us. To do that, we must stop and go within. What simmers there, and guides?

I use these words in this moment, to guide this precious day.

For a day, just for one day,
Talk about that which disturbs no one
And bring some peace into your
Beautiful eyes.”

~ Hafiz

Marion Rosen passed away last Wednesday night. She was a mentor for me, a teacher, a leader, a friend. She will be missed, is missed, and yet, I feel her opening windows for me, windows as in an Advent Calendar.

See this, and this: I’m free.

This poem by Jane Hirshfield guides me to feel her “largeness pass through me”.

The Supple Deer

The quiet opening
between fence strands
perhaps eighteen inches.

Antlers to hind hooves,
four feet off the ground,
the deer poured through.

No tuft of the coarse white belly hair left behind.

I don’t know how a stag turns
into a stream, an arc of water.
I have never felt such accurate envy.

Not of the deer:

To be that porous, to have such largeness pass through me.

– Jane Hirshfield

This time of year I bubble. Grace seems almost tangible in the long, angled rays of light like we can climb a little higher and look out with a wider view on connection, and the deep need to know ourselves, and each other. Peace!

I am entranced with the light this time of year. It is as though the sun, thanks to the tilt of the earth, appears to move south, allowing us each to come home, home to the fire within.

It is a reflective time. As the year comes to a close, I feel a desire to fulfill those resolutions made January 1st and to gently come to completion with hopes and desires. What can I conclude and restart as I honor the exchange of vows, the embrace of one year with the next?

The trees are losing their leaves and branches reveal like bones. We settle into our homes, into the structure of what is left when the sun’s seeming departure south draws a deeper veil upon the days.

I sit more easily in the dark, more aware within.

Cheri Huber writes:

Most of us are so unaccustomed to breathing naturally that the body can hardly accept the breath deeper than a couple of inches below the collarbone. When we allow the body to relax, it will naturally accommodate a fuller breath. We do not make the body breathe. It knows how to breathe, breathing is what it does. We simply allow the breathing to happen.

“Allow the breathing to happen.”

The season’s pulse drops. Breathing is clear.

I saw the movie 50/50 today and it is an excellent movie that captures the experience of cancer treatment.

That said, I urge caution in seeing it. I cried all the way through and sobbed in the car. It was cathartic and intense.

I felt compassion for myself, and for those who cared for me. I know there is a place for experience, and there is a place for tears, and I think this movie is so well-done that it needs a rating as to the powerful effect.

I think we are all aware of the passing of Steve Jobs. We are communicating this way because of his vision, power, and passion. Medical treatment gave him extra years, and there is a cost. This movie immerses you in the pain for all involved when a friend or family member is sick and wanting to live.

We invite you to come July 7th to Books Inc on Fourth Street in Berkeley where Jane and I will be reading from Breast Strokes.

http://www.booksinc.net/event/cathy-edgett-and-jane-flint

15% of the profits will benefit the Women’s Cancer Resource Center in Oakland, a worthy organization to support.

http://wcrc.org/who.htm

We hope to see you there.

Peace!

About this blog:

Cathy and Jane started writing together during Cathy's illness, and that writing became a blog, which then became a book!

We hope you enjoy our blog and invite you to join us on Facebook and Twitter.

Jane
Cathy

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