The continuation of life

No, I'm not talking about life after death.
But how life itself continues...which is pretty miraculous in itself.

For my little existence, I noticed a few things yesterday, which remind me of how life wants to continue itself.

The aquarium.

First, there's the sun at it's lowest in the sky today, and for the shortest amount of sunshine as well.
The photo above shows at the base of the small table, a spot of sunshine hitting that cat's toy.  This is the furthest into my apartment that the sun will hit all year.  Remind you of anything? How about Newgrange, or Stonehenge?  Well, this was closer to noon than dawn, but I like marking (via photos) this point of furthest tilt of the earth, everywhere I live on Winter Solstice.

Then back to life wanting it's own survival.  I put the divider back into the tank (bright turquoise vertical against the sides, clear perforated plastic from front to back). And I put a very pregnant female guppy onto the side in isolation. Yep, in the morning, hiding in lots of plastic weeds, were a bunch of new babies.  I swept momma out with the net, and put her on the other side with the rest of the adults. And then tried watching and counting the babies.

I think it's a bakers dozen.

I have to take the top off the aquarium to even see them, putting the light source to the back of the tank rather than the top.

They may not be cuddly like puppies and kittens, but they are cute in their miniature little way.  Just a tail with eyes, and then those little side flippers going like a hummingbird's wings, propelling them around from here to there, not showing that they know a thing yet.  They didn't even know to eat the first time I fed them.  But they are catching on.

This is the thrill, that new life can still happen, given the circumstances to support it.

I was thinking the other day how I continue the blood of my mothers, the ancestors from whom I am descended. And not just metaphorically.  My mother's blood came to me through the placenta in the womb.  And her mother's came to her before she was born.  We women have a continuous line of life blood, through each daughter to the next. 

I'd heard how girl babies already have all the cells which will become their eggs in their ovaries before they were born.  But I'd never thought of how the blood continues to flow through each of us as well.

More thoughts tomorrow on the miracle of life surviving for itself.

Today's Quote:

Take full account of the excellencies which you possess, and in gratitude remember how you would hanker after them, if you had them not.

Marcus Aurelius

Another day

Today...
not yesterday, not tomorrow.

What does today have for me?
Or what do I have for it?

I wake up that way, then go to sleep thinking of what happened that day, and what will be coming.

In the meantime...and time goes on.  Life happens.  And death.  A cycle.  Regeneration.  Life, death, life, death.

But there is only NOW.

OK, that's enough to think about for a while.

(Clink on link "comments" to add your comment. You need to have a blog, because I no longer take anonymous comments.)

My Mother's Day thoughts

Mother's Day is this Sunday.

I think I'll talk about mothering.  It's so different than fathering.  Yes, that sounds sexist, but I know of no men who give birth or nurse the babies.  So from day one, a mother has given life itself.  Then she comes up with this mysterious milk right out of her body also, to keep that life going for months...with regular demands for it.

By the time a child has begun to walk, talk and feed itself, a father can pretty well do everything a mother can do for it.  Though few do.

I loved how my children were waist high, then shoulder high, and then all surpassed me as adolescents.  These young men then knew more than I did, and acted like it.  They finished schooling, married really great women, and now I have 6 grandchildren.

Giving birth is not easy! There's seldom a remembrance of how hard that task actually was. 

As my grandchildren arrived, I found out I was not the mother who my son's honored on Mother's Day anymore.  The wives who had given birth to their children were the mothers in my sons' lives from then on.

It's as it has ever been.

I honor all who give birth to creativity and sustaining life...not just those who have a baby.

The mothers of invention need to be recognized, and we also need to acknowledge many mothers have babies who may not have been completely nurturing.  Honoring life and creativity is what it's all about.

My current "baby" lying next to the mask I made of Muffin many years ago, and the box under it with her ashes.  Besides them is another form of life (green) in a beautiful pot by my friend, Cathy Babula.

Life brings a bowl of cherry pits

So now I'm on my back and feeling less than myself 

There's the part of me that still thinks I'm invincible. Yes the superwoman who now knows that pain is inevitable. And she also knows that pain relievers aren't so great.

So pneumonia reared its ugly head, and knocked me off my feet. Most of us would rather not see or talk about what we look like when we're on our backs. But hey, it's all part of this great experience.
And also I  will appreciate my home life so much better. In a day or two!

Sharing about Joanna Macy

To continue the discussion about paradigm shifts which many of my friends have enjoyed lately...how our world is changing, and what we know and are learning about it.

Last Sunday our guest minister  said that we are all walking around saying "what if..."  Yep.

Here's a very brief excerpt from Joanna Macy, (at Creative Living) who talks about How Life Self-Organizes, or HERE for her own web site.

Please consider these ideas.

My neighbor and friend Sarah Vekasi, just spent a week with Joanna Macy and is returning to Black Mountain this week.  I'd sure love to hear her speak about these ideas sometime!

Continuing to explore as I move forward...

Your friend,
Barbara 

Plain ole me

Many things changing ...the one constant that life offers us is change.  Each day something is always going to be different.

At least it's not like walking on quicksand...I think.  It's like walking with many curves in front (as well as in back) of me, with many high slopes ahead, and with some rocky places as well.

But it all comes out with a cycle of movement, which I prefer to think of as a spiral.

The only trouble is forgetfulness.  I forget each morning until I get reminded, that life is a spiral, not a straight line between birth and death.  The spiral takes me from inside close to center, then out to the further edges where movement seems so slow that it's as if I'm barely moving.  

But then before I fall off this spiral (whatever that might be) I'm pulled back, moving towards center again.

If you're a potter friend, you know how centering is something that is done before creating anything on a wheel.  If you're a meditating friend, you know how sitting in quiet lets you feel your own physical, spiritual, emotional being is tucked there inside as you feel centered.

So as my life as Barbara has experienced yet another turn of the earth around the sun, I celebrate with my friends and family becoming a youngish elder of 73.  Once that felt like it would truly be old age.  But today I meet many people in their 80s and 90s...and one dear person over 101...so I know I've got a lot of living still to do.

Sharing cheer with my friend, Helen, I'm on the left.

Today's quote:

The grass is not, in fact, always greener on the other side of the fence. No, not at all. Fences have nothing to do with it. The grass is greenest where it is watered. When crossing over fences, carry water with you and tend the grass where ever you may be.

Robert Fulghum