The Salve of Other


Down on the plaza today

Feeling sooooo good.

I seem to have made it through another winter.

Back to my full time job of professional voyuer

I sat with Emma on my lap and a latte within reach.

It was mid-morning but few humans were around save the Native Americans setting up their wares for the day;

Dignified, constant, quietly contained.

A low and grumbly noise got my attention.

It came from a “camo-man” (my word for the plethora of discombobulated vets carrying the weight of war for us all).

He was quiet in his delivery of some language known only to him.

His body moved strangely.

Not dangerously.

I wheeled over and handed him a five dollar bill.

Not looking at me he took the cash and reached to barely brush my hand with his own

And walked off.

I truly felt steeped in Grace; his slight touch so full of intent and a host of other things that silenced me with their power.

One of the most challenging aspects of my health situation is the necessity to be so body-centric, so dense in paying attention to my physical body.

I must be so CARE-full

Im each micro-movement

In order not to fall on the floor or into the vacuum of a death spiral.

I must take pills, struggle with dressing, bathing, stay functioning in my home and work and community with dignity and balance.

All of this I used to do without a cloying effort but now must micro-manage energy; both psychological and physical, to show up in the world the way I wish to.

The call to action I had with the “camo-man”

Took me out of my self-centrism.

For a moment

It was WE…outside of time.

I forgot about “me”

And “he” also vanished

And there was just the numinous “We”.

How easy it is to forget who we are outside our personal pains, frustrations and concocted stories.

These things are not “us” at all.

We must reach beyond our bubble.

Or be very aware when a fellow reached forward toward us.

It seems God lives inside the extension outside our (little “s”) selves.


3 Responses to “The Salve of Other”

  1. Irene on March 1st, 2018

    We have so many people passing through Sedona–old vets, dirty kids, folks hugging their crystals, regular tourists. Sometimes, I wonder what their stories are…sometimes I get to hear them.

    I love your sculptures. My gargoyle sculpture has been juried into the local arts center members’ exhibition. I’ll be hearing–and telling–some stories tomorrow night at the opening.

  2. Pam on March 1st, 2018

    Beautiful observations and experience, Cathy. Thank you.

  3. Becky Patterson on March 4th, 2018

    You continue to surprise me with your experiences, observations, and ways to express them. An artist weaving words. Color Texture. Love the young photo of yo. I copied it to keep. We are eternal. Look at us young and carry that around in our minds. I love you.

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