Moments Before My Surgery

The many thoughts that go through my mind before surgery. Why did I walk into the ER? I wasn’t losing a leg, losing my sight, losing my mind. I’m only going through a minor procedure, though some would say it is major. I’m not asking for something to be removed that is going to thrive in the next few weeks, months, years. I’m told it will only worsen. I know now the pain I was feeling is something real, and not my imagination, though it took a couple of days in the hospital to figure that out.

I guess that is part of my dilemma. What if I don’t go in? Then I walk around thinking of some mass in my body that is only going to worsen. Some condition that goes undiagnosed. Then I believe that because I already have an identified heart condition, that shortness of breath isn’t anything to take for granted. Then I wonder what would it be like if I lived in a society where I didn’t have nearly the medical benefits I have in my own world today? Would I just have to tough it out? Yes, unfortunately there are worlds where my conditions would not be resolved and my longevity as a human being would be shortened. 

So maybe that is the biggest question. What is our responsibility when given chances to maintain or extend our lives because of medical prowess. Shouldn’t we just let ourselves be in God’s hands? There are many factors that preclude that natural outcome with our mortality. Think of the things we lose when we are taken ‘before our time.’ We each have those bucket lists that apply to our own lives. We then are often brought to mind those that take their lives in their own regard rather than through the natural course of the human condition. So many factors are evident.

Today, minutes away from surgery, I wonder how important it really is. I am told the organ being removed is no longer functional and that it is not a dire loss to my body chemistry. Though there is a healing process, adjustments and recovery, and a somewhat lifestyle change. 

I guess my quick conclusion before I am drugged into anesthesia is that there is a purpose in maintaining our health, if the tools and devices are there and readied for our welfare. I suppose it gives us opportunity to again look at the bigger picture and understand theses choices are meant not to be in our own hands.

What I have ahead of me is a minor surgery in the greater scheme of things, but yet still a learning moment I cannot pretend is non-existent. 

Situational Choice

So many nights my dreams

manifest my days,

yet I’m told,

little is the connection

when we trial,

we try to understand

just where it is we did discover

how close our imagination

rests within the recesses of our mind,

that emotional sojourn,

safely tucked away,

giving only allowance to our reality,

when the time is,

when we are supposed,

when then we need to understand.

Once in My Life

I would recall a song or certain melody,

mood change, slow recall,

a memory might take me miles away

that time before this past

outcome. An adventure is welcome

when fear is abated sooner

than an insidious need to redefine,

to understand of course,

a recognized outcome similar to having

processed a difficult moment

We have had them occasionally, like

just the other night.

I was recalling when a summer rain

brought me back to a walk

just you and me and city lights, cobblestone

a European fantasy,

even a Christmas time walk along the lights,

far ahead, I watched you stroll,

wondering if I might lose you tonight,

not knowing when, just that sense

we all get when we haven’t a desire to really

face our demons in such pretty

surroundings.

When I think about how much hardship I let

myself go through the next

few blocks, hours of time, years, months before,

I suddenly am thankful,

I decided to spend my life with her.

She’s not someone you know,

We’re both really fine with that knowledge.

Once in my life I did the right thing.

Stepping Outside

A picture speaks a truth.

~

I danced alone happy,

the first time I could.

~

A conversation

a put down

a clarity of purpose

a scant reminder

~

A why do we do this

sort of thing

moment

that allows our lives

to become enthralled

by the ones that do.

~

A reckoning

when time slows

enough to wonder

about how simple

a decision

might be well after

consequence:

inherent trepidation.

~

A summer night

stars are out,

a full moon waning

sheds a sorrowful tear

on a quiet reality,

while we all enter

a continuum

that part of our lives

we could never …

but we did.

~

Another time

we revisit in hope

we might settle

a difference that

when recalled

did help us focus

on why we

hate reminders

~

Would we ever

again be able,

could we possibly

understand

just how far

we did stray.

~

A friend once said

they wished the world

could get along

without a fight.

~

We yelled each other’s name,

never did we speak again.

~

We didn’t try to look outside.

Regret’s Mask

That space we seldom see,

unless already known,

the mask regrets nothing

while internal turmoil creeps

about waiting,

about wanting,

about hoping to lash out,

when the time is right.

When our mecca,

single-most desire,

passion

steps toward a ledge,

we cower again,

we scramble to grasp

a mask,

a shelter to protect

our, his, my, your, we’re all

yearning.

Seems readily available,

a facade I mean,

that piece of fabric

transparent when we will it to be.

Yet, in the midst of turbulence,

a cacophony of havoc,

when then we realize

efforts in vanity

far outweigh a

genuine disorder,

well then

might we all smile,

to know just once,

that certain need to survive,

universal.

Sleep well with your mask,

gently placed on the end table.

You’ll find it again,

the moment hope is needed,

in the chaotic nature,

defines,

the human condition.

Frayed Ends

We all have them,

depends on a sunny day,

how well we can tuck away

our personal tragedy,

or bold success.

Matters really the arena

we decidedly turn to,

or need,

perhaps want to listen, to see,

to recognize who

we might want to be

at the moment.

~

There are too many days

when a sedentary attitude

overrides a natural course of action.

We might imagine white sands,

pristine sun-streaked skies

with radiant horizons stretching forever,

yet, when the frame is removed,

the nail remains,

to suggest our wall continues

to impede our vision.

~

Please salute the reality

of our ways,

please recognize

the beauty in growth,

the resilient effort

toward understanding

who we are in the moment.

Do suggest to ourselves,

to you, to him, to ‘they’

to ever present and real,

me, us, everyone.

‘We’ are capable

beyond the frayed edges,

to smooth our ends.

When Walking

abstract-wall-art-family-brown-painting-mavatar

We choose a step, a cadence, a pattern

we may distinguish as our own,

yet we always have knowledge,

of our predecessor, our previous walk.

When someone is borne of ambition

their ideals, point of reference

seems rather fascinating to the observer,

so magical is idyllic inspiration.

~

We have options we often share

with our neighbors next door,

without ever having to interact

or face the music of our fear.

We wave while passing by on a walk,

having little idea of what’s on their mind,

keeping silent our own frame of …

quite frankly we probably don’t care.

~

Tonight while staring at my favorite wall,

I could see through the haze a world,

furniture looks nice, a fireplace glows

we could not have imagined a life so grand.

Yet the wall continues to hinder my eyes

when inside my body will churn, misguide

my motives to remain a sedentary

human example of groomed woodwork.

~

When walking someone said choose a path.

When walking someone suggested our path.

~

Photo found on Mavatar