Saturday night - New Year's Eve

Happy New Year to all. Is it possible that in 2012 we'll begin to treat each other with respect if not kindness and care for the planet as if we understood that our lives and our children's and grandchildren's lives depended on it? I have to hope so and nurture faith in my fellow human beings. I have faith in nature, in its ability to be challenged, to repair itself and go on. And we human beings are part of nature, whatever grandiose (and wrong) ideas we may have about ourselves.

But in the meantime, still so much suffering. Poverty. War. Disease. Hunger. Loneliness.

My prayer of hope for this new year 2012 - may each of us be free of fear; may each of us be healthy; may each of us be happy; may every single one of us live in peace.

Sunday morning

Ella and I went to the park this morning. I awoke - actually Ella woke me (David and I had gone to see the new Sherlock Holmes movie last night and got home and went to bed later than usual) later than usual, after 7:00 am, so arrived at the park at around 7:30. A bright and beautiful and cold morning. The sun already 15 degrees over the horizon, a position it may usually just be reaching as we leave the park. The season's first skims of ice formed on the pond. We also were at the park yesterday, and yesterday there was a flock of Canada geese there. Yesterday was a still chilly morning and the flock of geese floated almost motionless across the pond, as if planted in soil rather than floating on water. Today no geese at all, a couple of Mallards and that was all. On our way around the western loop we met a friendly man and dog (the latter named Malya) and I let Ella say hello. The man was - as often is the case - quite taken with Ella and asked questions about her. Meanwhile Ella and Malya became acquainted - Ella on lease, Malya (male) not. Eventually I let Ella go and the two had quite a romp. Ella is twice Malya's size but his littler teeth were just as sharp and he was not shy with his nips if Ella got out of line. It was good for Ella. I wish I had more occasions when I felt comfortable letting her romp with another dog.

Today's walk in the park reminded me of why I love going to the park. It reminded me of how good it is to pay attention to what is happening in your life right at this moment, since there actually isn't any other moment. To be caught up in what already happened - which is gone, done and over - or what might happen - which hasn't yet happened and may never happen or may happen entirely differently than you imagine - what a waste. And yet we do it. I do it. My guess is I do it more than I do not do it. In other words, most of my life I am living and not paying attention to it, but thinking (in my case at least) usually of what is to come. Why? What is so intimidating or frightening about paying attention to now? Is it that we think we'll be unprepared for what comes? The closer the end of my life comes - and even believing that I am well and cancer-free and going to stay that way, nonetheless, the end of my life is coming closer, no two ways about that - the more afraid I become of getting to the end and realizing I didn't pay attention to my life, I didn't LIVE my life, and now it is too late.

Christopher Hitchens died this past week, may he rest in peace. I type those words and wonder what he would think of them. I think he would appreciate the sentiment but not the factual content. I've been reading quite a few obituaries and appreciations of him and I realize that he seems one person who actually did live his life in the now, paying attention. His writing certainly evidences the breadth of scope of his attention. So he died at age 62, but boy, did he live those 62 years. Would that we could all say the same.

Okay, time to go pay attention.

Peace.

Friday night

I saw Dr. M this morning. I remember that there was a time when I wasn't so enamored of Dr. M; after all, it was someone in his office who initially blurted out to me on my very first phone call to him before I even had a diagnosis that "he recommended chemo therapy and radiation" when I had asked whether he recommended me coming into the office or consulting with him by phone. But I am enamored of him now. Some how, every time I see him, I leave feeling great. He radiates confidence in my continued health. One more check up with him before my 2 year NED date of April 2012. At any rate, a good visit, good discussion with him about a couple of things. Just good. I told him that Friday after Thanksgiving was the 2 year anniversary of having my fuzz cut off after I loss my hair from the first chemo. He thought it was "an emotional" or "draining" experience, recognizing the anniversary. No, I told him, it was a good, joyful experience. I am grateful I lost my hair from chemo. It did something wonderful for me. Freed me in some way from some hair-bound insecurity. At this most recent hair cut I asked the hairdresser to cut my hair "shorter" than usual. It's very short. I'm happy. Now if I can learn what "product" to use and how to use it to give a little spiky edge, I'll be even hap;pier.

I am a lucky person.

Had a scare about my son's health tonight. Turned out fine. Another reminder - I am a very lucky person.

Truly.






This old tree has, I believe, been standing on this slight rise in the park since before any person alive today was born. The blizzard of this past October stressed it but it stands.
Peace, peace, peace to all, all, all.