Way back when, before life at our house got all crazy and cancer-centric, I was invited by a couple of folk to do some National Poetry Month thing-a-ma-jigs at their blogs.
One of those people was the inimitable and delightful Jama Rattigan.
Saying no to Jama would be like saying no to the Queen — you’d never say no because you’d never want to.
So.
I sent her a poem.
And a recipe (that I made up. which is hilarious. because I’m not that great a cook.)
And some photos of barley and stuff.
I’d since forgotten about it to focus on bigger, harder things than acorn squash.
(As most of you know, I’m writing a haiku a day right now and that’s about it, blog-wise.
I’m barely reading blogs and, although I relish every note and comment I receive, I’m barely responding.
All of this makes me sad, but it’s about capacity and mine seems to have shrunk something fierce.)
So suffice it to say that today’s post on Jama’s blog surprised me.
A friend, in fact, had to tell me it was there.
It’s that poem I’d sent her.
And the recipe.
And some photos of barley and stuff.
And, well, a lot more.
The thing is, Jama does not approach the world with garden-variety loving kindness.
No-sirree bob.
She is all about seeing the world at its best and saying so, and honestly, it makes the rest of us want to live up to that.
At least that’s how I felt today when I read her post.
Well, first I felt like blushing and then I felt like, dang, I better go do something good to deserve this.
Y’know?
The world we live in is a funny place.
So much to worry about and be frustrated by.
And then there’re folk like Jama, who can turn a bad day on its ear just like that.
I’m grateful to her, and to you all for stopping by even though I’m sort of barely here to pour the tea….
Namaste.
Haiku 20
4/20/2010
each night the moon shines
even when you can’t see it
you just know it’s there
You always manage to find the gems within the dreck.
We’ll keep the tea pot warm for you while you do the tending to your loved ones that need it most.
Don’t worry about reading or commenting or anything other than doing what you need to do to take care of you and yours. *hug*
tanita says 🙂
EXACTLY. Ditto what Susan says.
We’ll keep the tea hot for you. <3
This one made me smile, and think of other things you can count on, too, even when you can’t see them. Hugs to you and your family (and many, many good thoughts).
Your kind words overwhelm me. The way I see it, we are here to inspire each other — and whatever you perceive that I’m doing is the result of what I’m receiving from friends like you.
As the others have said, take care of what you need to, day by day. You have a permanent place at our table. The tea will always be kept warm.
I know others see what I see in you. That grace thing. These days, grace under fire.
Namaste.
Oh, what you said re Jama. Our queen.
And what everyone said about you. Yes the tea and honey is here for you whether you can sip or not. Peace peace peace…
Cancer-centric. What a horrible word. Still holding you all in my heart and prayers and hoping for all good things in the end.
And as for the recipe, who would know you aren’t a cook? Could have fooled me!
Not only do I love Jama, I love “Liz-seen-through-Jama’s-eyes.” Believe what she says, honey. You’re that sweet.
When my husband was ill, I days when I had to pray my way through every little bit of the day. As in, “God, please give me the strength to get up. Now, God, really, I have got to take a shower. And now, I need to make some breakfast for us.” Sometimes life makes you focus on the most basic things. You keep focusing. Everything else worthwhile is still there when you have more time and energy for it.
I want to second a third your words about Jama. She makes me feel hopeful about life, as do you.
Love your poem, your photos, and your sweet recipe. Jama is a gift many times over, isn’t she? I am hoping you get a double portion of sweetness today.
Me, Too
What they all said about Jama’s Queen-ness and your grace-ness. So true. You are both beloved.
Jama is a treasure, isn’t she?
Love this haiku – even though sometimes, when I can’t see it, I forget it’s there.