Saturday, January 7, 2012

January 7, 2012–Resolution Wings

Dearest Readers,
Friend Sylvia lent me a vintage, though musty, first edition of Taylor Caldwell’s 1938 novel, “Dynasty of Death”, which I am reading early each morning in bed. Yesterday, a pale grey mite the size of a pencil point leapt out of the opened spine and dashed frantically across, and down the page. I tried to read as fast as he was moving, but he launched himself somewhere into my bed covers–no sign of him anywhere, until I felt an itchy welt rising on my forehead over my left eye. I’m a sucker. Buddhism teaches respect for all life. I actually let him get away and this was my reward. He or she is still at large in the bedroom.

Except for my miniscule bedmate, life in the seven days of 2012 has been a quiet turning away from people and a hunkering down. I’m possessed by another pesky bug who turns out to be a flu-ish courier of wisdom and resolve. Sickness fosters thinking while propped up on the couch. I should listen up because I’m beginning to recover.

I walked into the new year with a grim resolution to cut my credit card debt in half. It’s practical and doable, but not easy. Being a former Catholic enables me to grudgingly adopt a Lenten attitude throughout the year. Hazel, my mother, would sometimes spout her mother’s adage, “Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without.” This mindset already was feeling like martyrdom.

But something different popped into my head today while bending down to retrieve a failed shot of used Kleenex that had bounced off the rim of the garbage. A lighthearted crack of awareness beamed into my brain. I can save money and it won’t take forever! I can say no to spending for a year or two. This clarity released a tightness across my ribs as quickly as if I had unpopped my bra. A wave of confidence filled my chest. I stood up and tossed the rumpled tissue squarely in the can.

I drew this Resolution as a pair of wings–gull grey against the uncertain density of 2012. A delicate pink spreads around her heart, which is grided and girded for flight. She rises up, spreads her pale feathered arms in a halo of soft light, all the while
pumping really red blood. Happy New Year All!

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