Trying, really!

I'm trying so hard to do many things: care for my beloved granddaughter Thistle, teach, and try to keep my toes in dance and knitting. Quilting has gone by the wayside, for now. There are not enough hours in the day to do everything. A year ago, my life quite literally changed on a dime and Thistle came to me; she was not yet two years old. Now she is almost three and a beautiful, thriving little girl. I see her opening and opening to the world, and I am very proud to know that I made a difference in her life. I will not have an empty nest again for another fifteen years. I will be in my late sixties at that time. Honestly, after a couple of years of it, I discovered that the empty nest is a bit on the overrated side. Tonight in dance I longed a little for a time when I could dance, then stroll over to New Leaf Market and get a hot apple/ginger juice and make an entry in my journal. There were oceans of time then that I simply let sweep over me. But now, time is compressed, as the universe once was compressed before it quite literally gave birth to itself. I now think that the true mark of maturity is the ability to adapt to change and ride the changes with a sense of anticipation, even in the midst of fear and uncertainty. I thought, just over a year ago, that I could participate in my Zen center more fully: cook for homeless people with everyone on Friday, sit zazen as many times a week as I wanted, take classes, have discussions with the teachers. It felt so right to me. It felt as if it were time. The Goddess had other plans for me. Tonight, Thistle cuddled up to me in her flannel jammies printed with frogs and flowers. I played a track of crickets and owls in night woods so that her whole room sounded like a forest, and we read The Quilt Story, a book my children loved, especially my girls. I can tell the moment she falls asleep even when I am not looking at her, as if my own spirit sighs and exhales in the moment when she enters her dreaming. No, I did not become immersed in Zen. Instead, a life was given to me in which it is possible to truly live Zen, to stand in the moment fully, to surf the waves of change, knowing that the universe is built on ebb and flow. Life with Thistle becomes one of minutiae: her joy in discovering a spider's web, blackberries full and ripe on the branch, a world seen "in a grain of sand." And so I thank the universe for the gift of this path: to be of service, to give of my life to another, to say a huge "YES!" and not just struggle and adjust everything to my own desires. I would have missed so much had I not just stepped into the tide of this experience, a journey in which I am learning every day what it is to nest in the eye of the hurricane, embracing whatever comes.

Too Long a Wait

It has been a tumultuous year for me, in every aspect of my life. I've stopped writing entirely, though I have published some work and am very grateful for that. I've stopped wanting to sew and make quilts, the desire to do so absolutely dead in the water: all those boxes of bright fabric, with their deep jewel colors, like treasure consigned to the bottom of the sea. When I write in my journal, it seems full of self-indulgence and self-pity. Then I remembered that there is a place where I can "recover" at least some vestige of a writing self: here on this blog. Hopefully more writing will follow. I am now a caregiver to a lively little person who has been living with me nearly a year. For anonymity purposes, I am going to call her Thistle. The work of bringing Thistle into this household and adjusting to having round the clock care of a small child, has been one of the most intense challenges of my whole life. Yet when I see her bloom and be happy, and laugh wholeheartedly, when her life is protected as it should be in the "bubble" of childhood sweetness, I feel glad. Whatever I have given up for her is more than worth it. I have been able to knit, which is the sole creative effort of this year: tackling a very difficult shawl pattern (all lace, which occasionally has to be pulled out) and a blanket for Thistle. Somehow my mind still wants to link threads, knot disparate pieces together, make something beautiful to be in the world, to have an existence beyond me. So it seems my creative life is not dead, just embers right now. I hope to write more and perhaps together we will see my creative life re-bloom. Thanks for listening!

long time

You can tell by the time between these posts that I have been busy...with caregiving and teaching, and all the variousnesses of life. However, through the grace of literary guardian angels, temporal and otherwise, an excerpt from The Strega's Story has been published through Connotation Press. I am very happy about this! You may read the excerpt here: http://connotationpress.com/creative-nonfiction/1399-joan-vardaro-mcmillan-creative-nonfiction and thank you for checking it out!!

Becoming a Caregiver Almost Overnight

Hi, faithful readers:

I apologize for the long silence on this blog. My life has taken a very unexpected turn in that I have become a full-time caregiver, while still dealing with my own health issues and continuing to teach at university (and even write--I am polishing my first nanowrimo novel)..and yes, even dancing, though I have had to give up some of that for now.

I can't tell much about the caregiving in this public forum in terms of exactly who the "caregivee" is, except that they are thriving under my care and, strangely, so am I. At first, it felt like a tsunami had swept through my life and that of my family and I was overwhelmed, with many new decisions to make, all of a sudden. I have had to rearrange many aspects of my life and am now making peace with the fact that my career, for now, may be impacted in that I might not be able to do everything I wanted teaching-wise or even writing-wise this year. Still, what is most meaningful to me is that I am making a very profound difference in another person's life. Giving of my time and love like this is also changing my heart and mind in very deep, almost subterranean ways--I find I don't worry about as much because I can't afford the time and energy, for one thing. Plus I think I got all the worry out of my system when I first entered into this venture a few weeks ago!!!

Thank you all for still visiting this little corner of the Internet, despite my silences. I hope I can post a bit more regularly this autumn. Peace to all.

Another Incentive to Stay Here

I also wanted to let my faithful readers know that I have, for almost two years ago, a very large incentive to stay alive and be well: I have a beautiful granddaughter, almost two now. She is the light of my life and so much fun to be around. I am trying to be a grandmother like my beloved grandmother Mary, who was always there for me and in fact lived on my family property for many years. I miss her and really understand now all the things she did for me. I want to live as many years as possible so that my granddaughter knows and remembers me. For her birthday: a child-sized piano, because she connects with music so much. And her name for me is "Am-Ma"--which Prada, my elder daughter (who just completed her yoga instructor training in Rishikesh, India) informs me means "saint." Well, I wouldn't call myself a saint by any means, but it's nice to hear such a positive word!

Hallelujah

I decided to make some important changes and boundaries on my own behalf, including taking a six-month hiatus from both my writing groups. I do miss them, but honestly, it was a good decision. Having Fridays free enables me to do two things: participate more at the Zen center and study Haitian dance with my absolute favorite teacher, Shawn. I can't do everything; my health has been so fragile that right now I can work and I can, to some degree, write, and dance because that is so crucial to keeping me healthy, and the other things have to go.

My sister died after having lupus and related health problems for eighteen years. I wonder at times how long I have (I have also had lupus for eighteen years as of December). Zen has brought me to a place of peace about my own impermanence, with a sense of "yes, of course there will come a time when I won't be here," and that is a resolved fact of life with me. I have not been through as much as others go through, but what I endure is plenty for me.

Cool scarf on Knitty

I really liked the scarf on the "cover" of Knitty this month (my favorite online knitting magazine). I might make it, though none of the men I might give this to as a gift (boyfriend, son, nephew, etc) actually wears scarves. So I might make it for myself. I love the color and the way the yarn really enhances the pattern--gives it that very warm-autumn-fire sensibility.

Again

I used to play the above game, Moon Cresta, when I was just a young undergrad. Today I happened upon a YouTube video of it. In the era of games I really can't play well (I haven't even saved the princess yet in Mario One), itt was nice to see dear old Moon Cresta again, in a time when my health has yet again given me challenges. Sort of like the visualization of "good" cells getting rid of the ornery ones.

Still, I am back at work, happy to see my students and ready to start a new year, however creakily I am doing it right now. I went through months of recovery from pneumonia and other respiratory problems and am now recovering from a life-threatening asthma attack last week (ambulance, hospital, intense IV prednisone and a long high-dose course of prednisone also). I am grateful, inordinately so, to be alive right now. Each day is precious, and for me, each day is Zen as well. As a Buddhist, perhaps the images on a long-ago video screen may be in appropriate (I took Dharma vows which include nonviolence), but the little cartoonish images of meteors and rockets are a bit silly and goofy, and so I allow even this little thing from long ago to be part of my healing. Healing is merely the willingness to forgive and invite goodness in, after all, and anything can symbolize it. The personal symbol is something I really like to explore and talk about as a professor, too--we will be doing a lot of that as I work with my new batch of folks this year.

And grateful for learning the preciousness of the moment, the real life, this gift of having my footsoles fastened to the earth a little while more. One day at a time.


A monk asked Chao-chou, "I have just entered the monastery: please give me some guidance."
Chao-chou said, "Have you eaten your rice gruel?"
The monk said,"Yes, I've eaten."
Chao-chou said, "Then go wash your bowl."

Slow Recovery, Again

I never really meant for this blog to be a chronicle of my health battles; unfortunately, they are interwoven with the rest of my life, including my writing. This time, there were some gains, though.

I had pneumonia for at least two weeks in May and the beginning of June without knowing it. I only felt very ill with a respiratory infection. It wasn't til last week that I actually thought to have my doctor check it. He's the one who has helped tremendously with getting my asthma under control. He came to the conclusion that I had viral pneumonia and to get home and rest.

I have to say that, though it was definitely not a walk in the park to get pneumonia, my lungs seemed to have survived it fine. It is a testimony to how far I've come healthwise in a year; last year, pneumonia would probably have ended things for me. This week I am back at dance. For my body's ability to heal, I am incredibly and forever grateful.

I also turned 52 on June 7th, with quiet and gentle birthday celebrations all 'round. Since my sister died at age 53, I am well aware, sadly so, of my mortality. Time seems so precious these days.

I have also been a practicing Zen Buddhist for a year now and truly see how it is changing my life in very slow and subtle ways, all with just a willingness to try the meditation and be patient with myself and the unfolding of an entirely new spiritual life for me (though I joke that Zen is the perfect spiritual path because I get to sit for a great deal of time each day!)

What I Dreamed, I Did

I would like to apologize for being gone so much from this blog. I appreciate that there are people out there who come to read my words here. I have unfortunately been very ill again and am truly hoping I will have a few more years left to me. It is hard to become this ill when I am still in the prime of my life. I recently spent six difficult days in the hospital; I came out of it with a new treatment regimen which is helping, but it was a scary time, and frightening for everyone. I can feel the tiredness of my body at this point, fighting a long battle for health and strength, and yet I am still here.

I feel sad for anyone who still maintains the idea that lupus is not a real disease. I have had it for eighteen years and can feel how much it has taken out of me at this point. The good part for me is that I fully believe, even at this point when so much is up in the air for me, that I can achieve a remission.

Every day is so precious, so irreplaceable. That is the gift I am getting out of this time, that the time on earth we have is such a treasure.

Back Again

Back at school, teaching comp and creative writing. Amazing students, as always, lots of work already. I'm glad for another semester; the campus seems particularly beautiful right now and I feel that sense of the seasonal wheel turning again and the sense of rightness about being in the classroom. There's been the usual PowerPoint and other mishaps, but mostly I am doing fine.

I am currently on the last leg of my novel The Pleasure Palace, and it should be ready to send off in a couple of months (including time for edits). I'm really happy about its progress and it is quite fun to sit down with something in which I can run free with my particular brand of humor. I will miss it when it's done, but there is always the sequel (this will be a three-part series, loosely).

That's all for this week!