Home again...

After a wonderful weekend with my Baha'i community (Rancho Cordova) at Bosch Baha'i School, I realized that I need to be out in nature a little bit more. It felt so good to breath fresh air, even though some of it smelled like skunk over by our cabins. That's the chance you take when you go beyond the smog-infested confines of city life. You get Mother Nature at her best and worst. Luckily, I experienced mostly the best, which was a healing for the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual body. I really needed that.

I did, however, have to rest a lot more than usual, and I didn't get to play with the kids. They had a great time playing volleyball and baseball, and I wanted to re-new our wolf pack howl, which was such a big hit with everyone but the other adults last year. :) Yes, I know I'm 50 years old! And? I love goofing off with the kids, and they seem to get a big kick out of the fact that Ms. Angela, who is a good friend of their parents, can play around just like them and be entirely silly. And being entirely silly is the best part, in my opinion.

I guess a part of me refuses to grow up. When my daughters and grandson came over last night for a visit, I was watching the Justice League of America (Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, the Green Hornet, the Flash, etc.) cartoon on DVD. Clarissa was particularly disturbed. I don't understand why. She grew up seeing me watch cartoons right alongside them. I guess she thought I would suddenly outgrow it now that I'm a grandma. Psyche. Not a chance. I bought a Spiderman "bop bag" a while back, and Xavier and I had a good ole' time hitting it back and forth. His mother just shook her head.

Hey, I warned my kids while they were young--I'm plan on being the world's funkiest grandma. And I am. Not "funkiest" as in very much in need of wash-and-rinse. I mean Parliament/Funkadelic, Kool and the Gang (before the 80s), the Bar Kays and Brass Construction type of funk. That's me. I ain't your typical cookie-baking, scarf-knitting, orthopedic shoes-wearing granny. Good times are STILL on my mind.

Having said all that, however, I spent most of today recuperating after the weekend. It's the day after effect--I was feeling five decades old after taking three very short hikes around Bosch. I don't think I did any damage to the surgery site. Nothing is red and inflamed, no leakage, no fever or chills. Thank God!

Tomorrow I go see the surgeon who performed the hernia operation, so she can remove the staples and stitches. Yes, I wrote, "staples", as in those metal things that are usually used to clamp together pieces of paper. They clamp together the first few layers of the epidermis quite well, too. I can see them very clearly right above my belly button, which looks very normal now that the hernia has been repaired. The staples have been a bit uncomfortable over the past three weeks, but compared to the pain I was in when my intestines became incarcerated, I'll take discomfort any day. Anything is better than that constant feeling of being stabbed in the gut.

I did get to do my presentation, but only for about an hour and half. With the weather being absolutely fantastic, who wants to stay cooped up in a classroom and learn? Even the teacher (me) kept looking out of the window! We did manage to have a very good, but brief discussion on attachments and addictions, and how those aspects of our life prevents us from actualizing our full mental, physical, emotional and spiritual capacity. One of the community members said that when he hears the word "addiction", he immediately visualizes a prison from which there is no escape. I can definitely relate to that. His description tied in beautifully with the Hidden Words that we read and discussed after his comments:

O BOND SLAVE OF THE WORLD! Many a dawn hath the breeze of My loving-kindness wafted over thee and found thee upon the bed of heedlessness fast asleep. Bewailing then thy plight it returned whence it came. From the Hidden Words of Baha'u'llah, translated from Persian.


That led to me sharing a story about an incident in my life where I was found upon the bed of heedlessness. However, I'm still processing how the story seemed to come to mind effortlessly, and how I was aware that while I DIDN'T want to share it with my community members, my personal feelings seemed immaterial at the time. Right now, I don't have the energy to re-tell the story again. I think it can stay on hold until after I get some more sleep.
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