Wisdom from Saadi - Praise of our bodies - Prednisone is working, thank Allah!

13th c. Persian poet-panegyrist Saadi's mausoleum in Shiraz, Iran. Lose yourself while looking into the reflecting pool. Will yourself there, invisible, flying on soft wings, trying w/your eyes to comfort the people of Iran and nearby Iraq we have so dreadfully mistreated. I kneel down by the soothing water, o Saadi, and dip my fingers inside, then wash my face w/the cool springs that are all that are left of your temporal body. But my heart is lifted by reading your works.

I got one of those email forwards from a gal in my last novel-writing class. Anne Strauss not only found an agent but is on her second re-write before the agent sends it to the publisher. She wrote a few friends, whom she called angels, and told them to expect a small miracle when they awoke next morning.

Hah! I thought. Such childishness.

When I awoke at 4:30 am, the TV was talking to me. It was none other than Karina Teck Lineback - I've never heard of her either - doing pilates. These gentle exercises are just what I need for my sciatica.

After I mostly listened to her, not ready yet to indulge, I took my first shower in many days. Ahhhhh! I smell like peaches.

Now I was finally ready to read the short story my friend Phil Nerges got published in the
Amoskeag, Journal of Southern New Hampshire, very high quality works.

I shut off all background noise and lying on the blue sheets on my belly w/my leg feeling so much better, I read in wonder. I had read rough drafts of his work and they weren't half as good as this. He'd polished it to perfection!

Read it here.

I wanted to write what it's like to be confined to your bed. Last nite I sent SOS notes to several group members late at nite but go no responses. I desperately needed human communication after Scott left for work. I guess I'm learning that altho I love to live alone, I need people very much!

The woman is alone in bed with simply her body for amusement. I examine it fully, feeling my arms and the bones inside them, feeling that the flesh has fallen away and the bones are closer to the surface. Now, my legs, massaging the calves and the thighs. It is nice to be reacquainted w/them and show them love, the love they so deserve for carrying me on my earthly journey these past 64 years.

I roll over and massage buttocks, firm and fleshy, ready to be slapped by my man, who takes excellent care of my body, and soul, then a careful exploration of - don't be shocked - my nostrils. The dilaudid created bloody boogers which I must carefully dislodge, so I get to know my nostrils and gently caress them and thank them for the gift of life, my breath. I breathe deeply, inhaling the air, and moving on to caressing my lungs and attendant breasts.

And it is this little exercise I do severl times a day w/o thinking. And then, my mind goes to Baby Grace. This is what babies do, discover their bodies. What's this? What are these five things jiggling before my eyes? And look? There's another pair of those flapping five-sies.

And so it begins. Since time immemorial. Bedouins, Israelites, Huns, Magyars, humans all, all equal under the eye of God. Or the eye of the sun, whichever you prefer.

Learned about Persia and Iraq last nite on a PBS show by Rick Steves. Well-done, my man, except for those awkward questions you asked some Iraqi women about 'how to meet boys.' Listen, Rick, when you do an i'view, you've gotta WORK UP to the intimate questions. You can't just go up to someone you don't know w/your movie camera arrayed behind you, and attempt to strike gold. The Chilean miners...look how deep they went before extracting the booty.