Hi my friend,
How are your days going? Welcoming the autumn palette? Wishing the summer an ambivalent goodbye? Pissed off at the abundance of holiday items on sale before Halloween has come and gone? Pleased to see such inventory and rue those who don’t share in your delight? Fearing that we are engaged in some kind of destruction of the Constitution; or fearing that we’re not?
These times require that we find spaces of comfort – and seek them out purposefully. Dave and Susan Kannigan’s photos; books that are immersive in scope or messaging or both; intentional hugs; falling in love with the clouds as they pass. Where do you find comfort?
I think comfort can be situational – that which soothes one day, may be less effective the next. And sometimes comfort presents itself in surprising places.
I was at Mayo Clinic last week (all is well, but for some cascading autoimmune issues – anyway it’s fine) – and you might think I found the most comfort in the extensive testing that was done. I did, but the greatest comfort rested in the people I met. Whether doctor or nurse, radiologist or technician – they all drank the Kool-Aid infused with care. And yeah, it didn’t hurt that the patient summaries refer to me as ‘delightful’ and ‘not looking close to her age’ (don’t be a wise guy – it was meant as a good thing). In knowing that after each test and appointment, Andy was in the waiting room.
So I think there is comfort that is immutable and holds us like an old sweater…and perhaps as we grow older, we realize that you need to take it out of the closet and keep it near.
Beneath The Sweater And The Skin
How many years of beauty do I have left?
she asks me.
How many more do you want?
Here. Here is 34. Here is 50.
When you are 80 years old
and your beauty rises in ways
your cells cannot even imagine now
and your wild bones grow luminous and
ripe, having carried the weight
of a passionate life.
When your hair is aflame
with winter
and you have decades of
learning and leaving and loving
sewn into
the corners of your eyes
and your children come home
to find their own history
in your face.
When you know what it feels like to fail
ferociously
and have gained the capacity
to rise and rise and rise again.
When you can make your tea
on a quiet and ridiculously lonely afternoon
and still have a song in your heart
Queen owl wings beating
beneath the cotton of your sweater.
Because your beauty began there
beneath the sweater and the skin,
remember?
This is when I will take you
into my arms and coo
YOU BRAVE AND GLORIOUS THING
you’ve come so far.
I see you.
Your beauty is breathtaking.’
~ Jeannette Encinias
Repost: Deva Vibha
Waiting for the Karma Truck 
I think of Linus and his blanket…hugs to you.
I love it!! Sometimes that’s all one needs – a blanket and a thumb. I will say that your hugs are some of the best ever (they must be, ‘cause I remember them!)❤️
Maybe again some day…❤️
Sent from my iPad
I hope so!
Sent from my iPad
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Beautiful 💐🙏🏻💖
Thank you so much, Val!❤️
Beautiful. Thank you Mimi.
Hi Mimi – I loved your account of your trip to Mayo. They are right, you don’t look your age at all. Part of it is your infectious joy in life. And wow, that poem! So evocative. I have read it several times — thank you so much for sharing. xo, Lisa
Thank you!! Believe me, I feel like I’m a 100 sometimes. The comfort I think was in the feeling that we were collectively committed to the same end. And the stories they shared – new dads, anxious moms with adolescent kids, I was so honored by their trust in me to hold their words as scared. And that poem – I’m so happy you liked it – it moves me to tears everytime I read it! Xox
“When you can make your tea
on a quiet and ridiculously lonely afternoon
and still have a song in your heart
Queen owl wings beating
beneath the cotton of your sweater.”
Love this entire poem and this passage in particular. No matter what is going on in your life, you always manage to find that song in your heart, a trait I admire so much and seek to emulate. Love you so very much….❤️
Thank you honey – this whole poem moves me to tears…and I certainly can have the occasional pity party, believe me…love you mega
Oh sweet Mimi, I’m grateful to know you have great medical specialists looking out for you.The poem on beauty is lovely and I will come back to it some time in the future, but right now all I can think of is the attack on Israel and the dear ones dying. I think of you nearly daily as I wear my necklace from you so many years ago!Blessings dear friend Carrie
Dear Carrie – I share your heartache and concern which deservedly makes this post of no consequence at all. I’m so happy you still wear that necklace and delight in knowing that our sushi lunches are as memorable to you as they are to me…Love and hugs, mimi
I liked this, comfort is different for each person, for me it is, what is it for me I can’t think what it means to me, let me think……………….
I find comfort in the love of my family which is something I am blessed with
Oh how I loved this poem! Thank you for sharing.
Thank you Susan! I take no credit for the poem though – and I loved it too!
love the poem you shared, it’s so beautiful and inspirational.
It’s a great poem..thanks, Beth!
Glad to hear all is well and you were treated so lovingly.
That poem, though… Oh my goodness it touched me deeply. I, too love the stanza Lori highlighted.
Thank you for sharing such a lovely and inspirational poem, Mimi.
Thank you, Dale…it was a wonderful experience (a rarity I find)…and I loved the poem too – I thought I’d cut some parts, but I couldn’t. I’m glad that it resonated despite its length..❤️
That’s a pleasant thing. Bad enough you have to go for tests, so much less awful when the people are nice!
I’m glad you didn’t cut any of it, either 🙂
❤️❤️❤️
💞