Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Senses.

Ever noticed how they capture moments?

A song brings me right back to rides to the dump, now affectionately termed landfill, with Dad. Yes, I'm listening to Neil Diamond. Dad has always been a music listener and so it was that Dad's trucks had 8 track players during that stint of time. Listened to a lot of music when I'd wait for him in the truck while he jawed with the guys at Carroll Motor Supply. I chuckle at people who are aghast when they see children waiting in vehicles. It was so very commonplace. I suppose like riding a bicycle without a helmet. Now I listen to songs - ones that I used to choose as ringtones for certain people - like Shawn Colvin's I've Never Saw Blue Like That. Well, my phone is now liberated. They're all gone - everyone is now a surprise.

Smell. Working now over half of my life in emergency services, I can say smells can bring you exactly back to full color vision playbacks and the rest is up to your imagination. On a much better note, few things are comforting smells to me: a spicy white carnation, a box of Camel cigarettes, a soothing rose. Mmmm....

I've been enraptured by this velvety blanket I received for Christmas. It feels like the tippy ear ends of the vizsla that I am so fortunate to borrow on occasion. Remember the wear-a- blindfold-walk-on-eggs-atop-crackers game? Please say yes. That better have been something everyone had to feel. The day I crawled into a wrecked car in pitch blackness and sat on a dozen eggs and a box of Saltines - well, ping, I remembered the game.

Cilantro. It tastes like dish soap. Now, now - I never had my mouth washed with dish soap as that was left to bar soap and thankfully not usually Lava. Is it not the most amazing thing - taste? How so very well defined in some compared to others.

As the big brother on the block, sight tends to rule over the others. But, there are many levels to it. Our challenge, should we choose to discipline ourselves, is to look beyond the surface.

Intuition. Like sight, this requires sensitivity, but in addition to constant honing is also discernment. A gift not from within ourselves.

Memories and our current breath entwined and etched....by our senses.


Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Lived what seemed to be a life documentary last night.

Persons with psychiatric problems thrashing out upon others and themselves. Then seconds later, calmness like mirrored water. An injured caregiver on one side, a previously vicious person on the other. One born in a native land, severely disabled, left by his family in the care of others with the edict that much of traditional United States medicine is not allowed upon their son.

To watch the givers close and afar was spiritually twisting. At one moment they are saving themselves from being injured and the next whispering kind notions and funny sounds to their aggressors. Bless them.

Sharing what was mindful overload and realizing there are not many people of depth with the capacity to fully appreciate and core-fully understand. It is no wonder why our world of relationships seems to be a bouncing ball from thing to thing and person to person. An emphasis on physical support, with the weeping wane of spiritual and emotional support.

Yet there are those quiet and steady givers amongst the rest, and they, like stars, grab attention when you take the time to look.