Perdido en el Espacio

Los Angeles, California

And so, we returned home in on the first day of the year. Enthusiasm about returning home: some. New year's resolutions: none. On the other hand, the start of the year always feels a bit like a clean slate to me, or better yet (because who uses a slate anymore, anyway?) a clean page of an 9x12 lined paper tablet (I know, I know, the rest of you have moved on to a blank screen on your iPad. Shut up...). I had a lot that I needed to do, and I suppose my one new year's wish was that I could focus and get going.

Sandra's illness has progressed to hospice. It has become difficult to get past her gatekeeper, John. Often when we call, he tells us that it is not a good time. When we ask how she is doing, he says terrible. I question when it will be a good time, and when she will not be feeling terrible, but I try not to get too deep into those thoughts. Their daughter, Cathy, is there. I miss talking to Sandra, and even with the understanding that she might be beyond that, I keep hoping for a day when we can get through to her. But my hope for those days is waning. And I am mindful that sometimes people who are terminally ill hang on for an event, and often that is getting through the holidays. So, we wait to hear.

Meanwhile, I am grateful that it is 2014. While I'm not that superstitious, the 13 of the previous year bothers me a bit, since my father died on the 13th day of the month. I also don't put hats on the bed, but I'm not sure why. Is that Irish (which I'm not)? Or Russian (which I'm not)? I picked it up somewhere, but am clueless as to the origin. I can probably walk under ladders, if necessary, but I don't like to drive behind a truck with ladders on it. I keep hearing news reports of a ladder in a lane on the freeway. I don't want to be behind that truck.

So with the new year ahead of me, I am reflecting on the blank slate, the clean page, the space ahead of me. I sometimes text my salsa friends in what little Spanish (ok, it's spanglish, really) I know. After lamenting that I didn't have an eñe to enable me to access a spanish keyboard, one of my friends directed me to the options in my iPhone which would enable me to access a spanish keyboard. Voila (ok, I know that's french), I now had my eñe! I have studied this spanish keyboard, and one of the things I keep staring at is the space key: Espacio.

I would like to have more space in my life; space in time; space in my home; space in my thoughts. Everything gets so jumbled together, that I often feel I can only deal with one thing at a time with space between. Probably a sign of aging, or of my own deficit of attention. I didn't used to be like this, but when I start thinking about everything my brain starts to spin out, and I lose my focus. I get lost. Not lost in space, but lost in the lack of it. There are probably a hundred things I could do for this, including yoga and meditation. But if you know me, you will laugh out loud at that suggestion. I tried yoga and in each of the asanas my brain was screaming: How long do I have to stay in this position? It feels awful! So, yoga is not the answer to the space question. Meditation? I suppose I could meditate on that option...

Still there is space in the months ahead, and I will try to utilize them well. What with thinking so much about Sandra, I am no longer able to concentrate my efforts on my three things which I delineated on the home page of my blog. Not doing much cooking. Catching up retroactively on my blog-writing. Still dancing. Always dancing. It helps a lot. So, maybe one and-a-half out of three is not so bad. At least not so bad when you are lost in espacio. Thank you for reading my blog.