Kabir Kadre
Kabir Kadre

Little tremors

Kabir Kadre|1 year, 6 months ago

Like the proverbial horse to barn, I find myself this evening quickening my pace with the warmth and hay of the stables in view.

Not so painful as yesterday, today was still filled with the present companion of discomfort.

The night was characterized by heavy slumber, almost dreamless, but not. Stephanie just back from her cosmically imposed condition of self-care in hibernation, waited patiently while I pulled myself back from the land of Morpheus and back into the light of Apollo.

The morning care identified new constructs of the ongoing discomfort, a blister on the toe persisting and likely due to the spasticity of the foot pushing down, possibly these dates in response to the still tender healing ligament.

After the range of motion, flexing and stretching my legs and joints, and a healthy movement of the bowel, I was rolled to my side to survey the condition, hopefully one of wellness, of my backside. As I turned, Stephanie gasped. “What is it?” I asked…

The backside was all fine, instead there was a novel wound of some sort, deep redness and acute inflammation near the base of the genitals. “Oh lovely.” Of course… The cosmic joke continues.

Ahlea, in the midst of a busy morning herself was ready for us and lent her wisdom and guidance into the evaluation and process of care. Tomás also lent his voice, but later in the day, and we will be mindful of these guiding whispers as we tend again in the evening.

Morning was late to rising as I made my way tenderly into the house, not yet feeling any gross discomfort of the day, just minor flicks of dysreflexia. I made my way through breakfast, emails and news, even a few clerical tasks before the sense of physical overwhelm retired me to the couch.

Reclining was just the thing and discomfort waned into obscurity as I rested. Ahlea called, having felt rushed in the morning, to offer a little further love and make sure her efforts had been received. Just a few minutes, but it was sweet to catch up to the sound of one another’s voices, even that lately in this pandemonium has been more rare.

I surfaced again in the early afternoon to meet with my old friend Dean who will be helping me polish my web offerings for the newly emergent (and emerging) expression of this life. We spent the first hour just catching up, comparing notes on the state of the world and how to be in it.

Then to the discussion of technical matters, good progress was made and I came away with a sense of gratitude and joyfulness for what can be made next.

Just as I began tidying my notes and tending to the to-do’s of our talk, the phone rang and another for our brother, Kim, echoed his sweet voice into the day.

The discomfort which has been persistent today, as I said, has never risen to the levels of yesterday, but have been persistent after the 60th minute upright in my chair, waxing and waning gently like waves lapping on the beach of a lake.

Kim was driving along the eastern shore of Flathead Lake in Montana, I had called him to dialogue in response to some of his teachings I had enjoyed yesterday, in particular a response to how to be in (and out) of difficult relationships without surrendering unconditional love.

There was a majesty to the moment, from his point of view the sun setting in the West, over the lake and far mountains. Having such a deep place in my heart for Montana, his description of these images evoked an incredible sense of “being there,” or perhaps even feeling as if I were the landscape described.

We didn’t chat long as I wanted to manage few things before the evenings meditation class needed to excuse my attention to attend the above matters. In the spirit of that majesty no doubt, however, we each managed serendipitously throughout the course of the conversation to turn a pointed light on the other in just such a way as to illuminate something hungry for nourishment, but patiently waiting in the quiet and the dark.

These were each, for me at least, tearful moments at the beauty of human togetherness expressed itself in the simplest and most loving of ways.

We said our goodbyes and I began ticking away the little things that needed doing. The phone rang again. Elisa this time, struggling with a little technical matter, but also basking somewhat in the goodness of being.

I managed to divide my attention for a few moments enough just to connect, but swiftly recognized the balance was precarious and if I was to love my friend unconditionally, I must better had let her go. We parted, and for a few moments more I made hay before the day’s finale.

Meditation Improv with Dan and company… In this virtual room with 80 other aspirants, I find the faces of some very old and trusted friends. I find also the faces of newer friends, those I have only known through this particular context, and with whom the exchange of words over these three years has been brief at best, and whom yet become in my heart as close to me as those I see each day.

Tonight we found our way to looking closely into the emptiness of emotions, and I found myself pointed squarely to the sense of gratitude, experienced as joy, that I feel in these days now were so much tumult in my life has seemed to calm back into a sense of even flow.

I must remember this; to notice when I am carried away by joy and gratitude, to be reminded that those energies too, are best spent in witness as they flow out through every radiant pore as unconditional love for a world of longing.

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