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Remembering my Brooklyn Uncle Don

7/31/2021

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Feeling and connecting. That’s it. No talking, no words, and that just doesn’t mean out loud to others, but silently to yourself. That is sooo hard. No wonder I keep giving up on practicing meditation. It not that I’m lousy at it, although that is true. Rather, I don’t have the physical and mental patience to do it. My mind and body don’t sit still! 
     I am reminded of my favorite uncle, Uncle Don. It would have been his 114th birthday today. Although he lived in Brooklyn, he was always determined to start his vacation so he would be in Maine for his birthday.
      When I think about my physical impatience, another Uncle Don memory comes up. I recall a family gathering at his and my Aunt Bow’s brownstone in Brooklyn. Lots of cousins, lots of people, lots of food, lots of activity, lots of house to explore. Uncle Don, a sedentary, quiet man, called me aside and told me that he would give me a quarter if I would sit on his lap for ten minutes. I gave it a try, but nope, I didn’t do it. I like to believe that I could have stayed there, but that there was too much fun going on for me to remain put in one place for what seemed like a loooong time to a ten year old.   
     Be that as it may, why do I recall that incident? Maybe to conjure up Uncle Don’s unconditional love for me—just a little refresher course in knowing that, seventy years later, I am okay being in constant motion.

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Mindfulness again

7/29/2021

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Mindfulness returns to my consciousness every so often. Today I pulled from the shelf Looking at Mindfulness: Twenty-five Ways to Live in the Moment Through Art, by Christophe Andre. As with many of my books, the markers that remain indicate that I read about a third of the book and then put it back on the shelf where it gathers dust until a day like today when I would pull it out again. 
     This back and forth kind of reading indicates what a challenge mindfulness is for me. My concentration darts about like a kite in the wind, or the standings of baseball team, or popcorn in the pan. So, once again I am going to try to concentrate on mindfulness. 
      In the the forward to this book, Thich That Hanh writes, “The secrets of living in mindfulness can be summed up in three words: understand, feel and practice, over and over.” I’m trying to imprint that on brain so when I am mindful enough to remember, I will do just that. 
      Today, as I took these pictures in my yard, I did my best to mindfully understand, feel and practice.

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I see you!

7/28/2021

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 I see you! A phrase I love. I see your truth; what you are feeling; what is important and essential to your being. It is honest. We not only see another with our eyes, but with our whole being—mind, body, spirit. 
    But today I am thinking about the eyes. I write this while waiting to drive a friend home from cataract surgery. I am thinking about another friend who is holding onto her sight in the midst of horrific vision difficulties that have provided her with a team of specialists too long and too complicated to list. 
     I have renewed gratitude for my own good eyesight, for my successful cataract surgery, and for the times when with my eyes, I say to another I see you, and when they say it back to me.

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Mouse in the house; hawk in the yard

7/26/2021

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Here’s the animal update from around here. 
  1. No more bird feeders but a few birds still come looking. I hope this is helping their health and well being. A side benefit— a clean kitchen window.
  2. Our resident hawk continues to visit. Three days ago he came right up and lit upon this favorite piece of porch furniture by the sunroom window. He doesn’t seem to care about us humans, but not everyone knows that. Case in point, the pest control man who was here to check for varmints that might come into the house, especially ants and mice.  He was outside doing his magic, until our hawk appeared and chased him inside. He, the man this is, was scared and left soon after. 
3. So what about the tiny mouse that appeared at the entrance to the Angel Room just two days ago? We expect mice visitors in the kitchen and attic of this old house, but in the upstairs bedrooms? 
     I was sitting in my chair reading when I looked up, and there he was: a tiny, black, furry thing, cute as a mouse in a Beatrix Potter storybook. He sat there for fifteen minutes, hardly moving before my husband came along, scooped him up in his hat, and let him go outside. Hmm, I wonder if he’ll sneak into the kitchen some rainy day. Okay with me, but please, not in the AR. 
4. On my walk yesterday I had a fox sighting, right on the road behind the cemetery. Let me be a little more precise about where he was: right in front of the driveway of the home of my long-time friends, George and Natalie Fox—who lived there up until five or so years ago. 


       Unfortunately I did get a picture of the mouse or fox, but the hawk continues to provide me with many opportunities. Not today, however. I’m sitting outside on his favorite chair. I can hear him squawking away in the distance. I figure he must be afraid of me.

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Self-involved: to be or not to be

7/23/2021

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I been thinking about what it means when I hear or say,  “Don’t be so self-centered,” or  “She (he) is so self-involved.” There is something disparaging in those comment, something judgmental, something wrong. The implicit message is, “Don’t be that way,’  but of course that is just what I am doing—being that way.  I may be saying that about someone else, but I might as well include myself. When I notice self-centeredness in someone else, I can be sure to find it in myself. My projection  should be easy to detect!
     All human beings are self-centered. It’s our nature. It is where we start as babies and continue as our personalities develop. It’s part of survival. However, the more positive our self-esteem, the easier our self-centeredness can develop away from selfishness and  become open to the self of others. That is how love works. 
    Let’s not fool ourselves. We each live in our own little bubble, with secrets, desires, hates, fears, and loves all our own. Even when we want to explain them,  the possibilities are limited. Words don’t do it, because what we are deep in our soul is beyond words. 
   When I want to defend myself from being labeled self-centered or self-involved,  on a good day I try to be honest about what I’m doing so that my my heart can open, even if just a little, to others. 

​

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Hiatus from feeding the birds

7/17/2021

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Wild Birds Unlimited, our local bird shop, sent this: 
Many of you have heard or read about a mysterious illness that is afflicting birds in some mid-Atlantic and Midwest states primarily Virginia, Maryland, Delaware, Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Kentucky, Ohio, the District of Columbia and New Jersey. At this time, there are no documented cases of the illness in states north of New Jersey.

It is not yet known if this illness is contagious and spreading through congregation or caused by something in the environment. Symptoms of this illness include swollen and crusty eyes, balance issues, muscle spasms and paralysis. The illness has been observed mostly in fledgling (juvenile) Common Grackles, Blue Jays, American Robins and European Starlings.

It goes on to suggest that we clean our feeders and bird baths weekly. 

The message is all rather confusing, but Jim and I have stopped feeding the birds. Since we are not willing to clean our feeders every week, we must comply. It breaks our heart to hear or bird friends call out to us as they circle our empty feeders. And what will our hawk will do next time he comes scouting about to see what’s available? We believe that the feeder attracts him, as well as the squirrels and chipmunks, which seem to be his preference. 
     We feel for our birds and for the owners of our local Wild Birds Unlimited, who have been serving bird lovers for  close to 20 years.

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Our resident hawk

7/8/2021

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More visitors to our yard. The storm of a few days ago didn’t seem to deter the many animals who, along with us, seem delighted that we are still living here. Every week or so we receive a visit from our red tail hawk. We like to think he is the same one, who a year ago, stood as a juvenile on our feeder, and has now returned to his favorite spot—his home away from home. 
     As the hawk begins to circle, it becomes noisy around here. The birds are telling everyone, especially their squirrel friends, to say away from the feeder. And then quiet. Silence, accompanied by intense solitude, as Camp Fisher’s mascot refrains from scurrying about our patio.

    If you are a squirrel, watch out. Same for the following animals listed on audubon.org 
Diet varies with location and season. Mammals such as voles, rats, rabbits, and ground squirrels often major prey; also eats many birds (up to size of pheasant) and reptiles, especially snakes. Sometimes eats bats, frogs, toads, insects, various other creatures; may feed on carrion.
    But we human mammals need not fear. Nor does the hawk seem to be afraid of us. Our son-in-law was able to get up close and personal to take a picture.
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Natural tree surgery

7/3/2021

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A  ten minute wind storm the other evening.  A medium size branch was torn from the big tree that we are considering, for safety’s sake, taking down. Not a good way to save money. The fallen branch has a plethora of healthy seedlings… And then there are the squirrels who live throughout its hollow trunk. Plus it gives us lovely shade. 
     I’m in awe of what this tree is still telling me. I’m not ready to say The End to its story. ​

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    Contact me: bobbifisher.mac@mac.com

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