Late again...

I began the day cleaning up after incontinent cats.  (Feh.)

Then going over the month's expenses with wonderful Mary, where I found I had been billed twice for one book, with only indirect recourse available.

Lunch with a group who were discussing the benefits of psilocybin to ease the experience of death.

Hmm...

 

So I come home and ask, ¿how can I ease the experience of grave illness sliding towards death for my sweet cat who is skinnier every day?  Yes, Jacob B suggested that it is our responsibility to help our domesticated animals exit; but I have not yet become convinced that she wants to GO.  She still persists in meowing for food, even though it goes right through her.  Right now, she is stretched out on the towel on the heating pad on the little sofa next to me, fast asleep.  When she feels too warm, she will leap (she still leaps beautifully!) onto the wooden island, and her little towel-lined box.  

How do I know when she is thinking "Enough, already"?  

How do we know it for ourselves?  When does schlepping around a failing body ask too much of us?  How do we make our wishes clear if we are perhaps not clear ourselves?  And for all of us who choreograph our future demise in great, sensible and even poetic detail, and think we're clear, we must remember to include an "I-changed-my-mind!" clause, just in case.

 

Meanwhile, I sent off the description for the weekend I will lead next month at The Abode of the Message, in New Lebanon, NY. 

I did such things for years before working with Zalman, then of course for years with him. 

And then not.

Now it feels like an entirely new venture, as if I had never done such a thing before.  

What ever made me think that I could simply slide back into 

doing what I used to do

being who I used to be 

B.Z.?  (=before Zalman)  

 

Good night...

Ahhh

Ahhh...grateful, as always, for Shabbat.

The house holds such quiet for this one day every week.  The phone does not ring (mostly.)  I do not open the laptop.  I do sometimes go to shul; other times, like today, I read the weekly portion here at home.  I do take a walk, sometimes slow and contemplative like today, noticing the geese, the lake, people's dogs, the mountains, the changing sky.

 

And except for that walk, I stayed home:  Bracha the cat is so sick, so skinny, so quiet.  Unusually, twice today Mazal, her co-cat, snuggled up near her, spooning. (They have kept a formal distance for years.)

I am waiting for the signs the vet named as signals that she may want help out; they have not come.  

 

My temporary housemate is temporarily elsewhere.  I have enjoyed her company.

The next two months have visitors coming, and me both writing and preparing to teach.

I know I have been invited out into the world again; I feel partially ready to go.

(For you back East:  I will be leading a weekend at The Abode of the Message in New Lebanon, NY, August 25-27.  I'm thinking of calling it "A Weekend in the Garden with Eve".)

 

Blessings for a week that brings us in this world closer to generosity, balance, harmony.

A not-the-same Thursday Night

Which makes sense, because it was not-the-same Thrusday day either.

 

Early morning minyan---usual.

Crying on and off throughout; not usual.

 

Chiropractic treatment---usual.

But with a new chiropractor, whose work is different and exquisitely sensitive; not usual.

 

Evening, needed to relax some---usual.

Went to hear a young man tell stories accompanied by an older versatile musician on a wonderful variety of instruments;  not usual at all.  

 

Preparing for shabbos in my mind---usual.

How shabbos will actually be:  we'll see!

 

Wishing us all a sweet and restorative shabbos.

Brief

The day was full, from an early waking to a walk and a long and delightful breakfast with a friend, to (therefore) missing something else I had planned to do, skidding in late for a birthday dinner for a friend, etc.  A day of unexpected incursions and missed appointments and catch-ups...

the kind of day about which my mother would have said "The moon must be in Klutz."

 

Bracha the Cat is still meowing for food, but less than yesterday.  She looks sad, and I feel sad for her.

I hope to make it to early minyan tomorrow.  I am quite sure that we are allowed to pray for the healing (whether into life or death) of our animal friends.

 

Blessings---