A Day like this is Precious

What a gorgeous sunny Saturday! Not too hot, not too cold ­– not one of those windy foggy days which are common in the San Francisco Bay Area's often “wintery” summer months. A velvety feeling of true summer slowly settles into my limbs, relaxing my skin and expanding my soul as I water the back patio.  Childhood memories emerge: exhilarated roaming in wheat, barley, and oat fields further away from home, time stretching long and wide, rushed last-minute returns for dinner… Here in California, the lovely pink naked ladies are out everywhere and we know it is August... 


Naked Ladies' Faces

Then down at the garage doors, I am intently drawing lines and sketching STOLEN LIVES – innocent but imprisoned – few are freed and exonerated –­ LIVES STOLEN with a soft pencil onto the next panel. Across the street, I hear a car parking, its door opens and closes, and I turn. To my surprise a woman rushes straight towards me. I don’t know her, but ­­­­I smile as she starts gushing half way: “You don’t know how much Conversation this wall is creating. Thank you. Finally, I can tell you!” I listened to her excited outpouring of appreciation, and we talk. The words of this Berkeleyan Black woman make me humble and grateful all at once. She knows of the Memorial for the last two years; on her birthday she drove her friends by to see it. All these things happen without me knowing, she is right. “You made the ‘names’ into real people with birthdays, family members, work, and interests.” I confess how hard the research was on me. 


(beginning of first panel) 

 

Two hours later, I am teaching my first T’ai Chi class at a senior home near Lake Merritt. Welcoming the three women and three men who show up, I ask each: “How long have you been here on earth?” Mostly 88, 89 and 90 years old, these frail elders are remarkably open to a new teacher bringing new practices into their lives. They listen, pay close attention, and follow my arm movements, quietly and calmly focused. A sweet tone and pliable atmosphere fill our circle and the room. Listening closely myself, I am trying to figure out what best to offer considering their varying capacities. After balancing on one leg while holding onto a chair, we try the Cat Walk, a walking meditation I developed, a very slow stalking and gliding. Despite limitations, each is intelligently navigating. At the end when I ask for feedback and questions, much appreciation comes my way. One lady wonders what I think about the use of walkers since that makes people lean forward and hunched over. I talk about the use of walking poles. During this hour we have been working with vertical alignment of our axis and lowering center of gravity, to bring ease and balance to body-mind-being. Her question shows a deeper understanding and willingness to think out of the box. Each elder here has had a long life with many stories, accomplishments, losses, and joys. I feel the translucent quality of old age – a great last gift if we could just slow down, and listen. My life has always been full of friends in high age. 


Naked Ladies' Legs & Feet


On my way home I make an unplanned stop on Shattuck Avenue at a small art fair which I was not aware of. Meandering, I suddenly spot my friend Diane at her Multiple Threads stand with her finely tailored, playful, and one-of-a-kind clothes made from recycled T-shirts and wool sweaters. All her “reincarnated clothing” is on sale, Diane is retiring and moving back to upstate New York to take care of her elderly parents, 89 and 92. She is a bit younger than me, and I tell her where I am just coming from. Both of us exclaim how much we love old people. Old age frailty often brings out sweetness, a quiet wisdom shines forth, and we get to see clearly how precious life is. It slows us down. 


I am old myself now, and a day like this is precious, with all its surprises, windows opening and closing... I still have vitality, but anything can happen any minute, and can utterly change or shatter this reality. In the end, we all come to the ultimate threshold with its incomprehensible, mysterious transformation. May we be blessed then, surrounded by kindness and respect. 

 

Watering, sketching, meeting strangers and friends, sharing, cat walking, knowing sweetness –  

A day like this is precious…. 

Comments

  1. There is so much here in what you have written about your Saturday. So much to take in that I read it several times- beginning in memories from childhood and ending in the "translucent" beauty of old age. Reading it, there is a ripple that spreads inside of me that normally would stop from fear but in following your words it continues on.

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  2. Here is the 'Afrocentric Angel' speaking in her own words: “This mural is extremely impactful that it touches my spirit and heart as a woman of color to walk and / or drive past it daily. It moves me because not only did you write down there names and birthdays but what they did for a living, what they were suffering from (I.e mental illnesses), bringing a soul to the fallen and a heartbeat to the community. It’s the original grass roots old school Berkeley way to protest and inform the community of injustices."

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  3. Powerful, profound and the truth! And what synchronicity to be working on the mural and learn of the frequent visitor! The mural with its latest addition is looking so good!

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