Can I surrender already?
The swelling this morning strongly suggests a sprained ankle. “Sports injury.” I’ve been enjoying calling it. Icing, elevation, wrapping, have been the suggestions and the practice.
I ate Tylenol all day yesterday, and finished the day with something stronger to minimize the dysreflexia through the night. That all helped, mostly. It’s one thing to practice equanimity in the face of pain, another when the body describes that pain with cold dampness and sweat.
It can be done, I know from experience, but the stakes are higher from the relative perspective and the slope itself more slippery still.
As the morning drifted in I discovered, to some relief, that while the foot looked worse today, the pain had mostly departed. At least as far as the autonomic dysreflexia was concerned.
Stephanie arrived without mask – the first time I’d seen her smiling face in nearly 6 weeks. We settled in with conversation while Nova busied around preparing herself to meet with the divorce attorneys for both parties and the judge for the first time. Court by Zoom, so 2020.
We were playing moral support and sent her off with a smile and good cheer.
My own legal meeting today would be with the trust attorney and Elisa who will be stepping in as trustee. The conversation went easily enough and it looks like we will be signing documents to that effect later next week. This opens up the cascade into SSI, Medi-Cal and in-home health support services, each of which will be critical to the unfolding of 2021.
An application went in today, “hand carried” by Ahlea for a place down the block from she and Mr. Elliot. Slightly bigger than the last place, but it seems now that Ms. Nova and I will likely be rooming together for the next six months or so.
Today felt a bit like waiting, though the waiting sense was never quite at the fore. Waiting to hear back on housing. Looks like we will interview a young woman named Courtney on Sunday to join our care practice; for now no other applicants are coming through. Waiting for next steps on care.
For now, with Stephanie stepping in for Thursday mornings, we’ve got good coverage for the next eight days, if things go well with Courtney, beyond that…
On hold with the Social Security Administration I made my way out into the sun to the garden café for lunch. Icy cold air in the shade of the garage, but warm and peaceful just a few feet east near the palms.
I put my foot up in the chair, the freezer chilled buckwheat pillow wrapped around my ankle. Stephanie was loading germinated almonds into the dehydrator on our way to replenishing the almond butter.
The government offices are apparently quite busy as my hold time was eventually cut off by the line going dead.
Stephanie and I organized a few things in the garage, turning over the remainder Christmas decorations to her. The boxes of lights and glass bulbs were just an artifact really of Christmas nearly 15 years ago now when Jett and I first lived together.
Both Stephanie and her sister were overjoyed with Christmas gifts come early, as was I to relish the smile on her face.
The day felt like waiting… Nothing quite all the way to do, I think there must be something to the sports injury creating the pace of its own. Not hobbling, but perhaps as if.
Nova was back and we checked in around the events of her continuance hearing. She too is settling into the flow of the uncertain time and tempo.
Mike called to check in, meeting me in the humor stream around the ankle and the little we could do but wait for its eventual well-being.
I spoke also to aunt Mary, again she to settling into the flow of uncertain time and tempo. The poet Hafez was forefront…
“What is the difference
Between your experience of Existence
And that of a saint?
The saint knows
That the spiritual path
Is a sublime chess game with God
And that the Beloved
Has just made such a Fantastic Move
That the saint is now continually
Tripping over Joy
And bursting out in Laughter
And saying, "I surrender!"
Whereas, my dear,
I am afraid you still think
You have a thousand serious moves.”
Hafiz (14th century mystic)
God gets to know things, we just get to ask questions…