The Lights

Fri. July 16 / 10 2401 (wed . 0100) I stuck my head out the door . The northern lights made a brief appearance.What a treat. I recall in June of 1999 when I was living just outside Sechelt on the Sunshine Coast that I had seen them then also. At first I thought that it can’t be. But the next day someone else and a newspaper article confirmed that in fact it was the Northern Lights . 0120 The shimmer is no longer in the sky so it must have been “the lights”. I also remember one winter night , my father my brother and myself walking home from the movie theatre. My father had taken us out to see a movie. The movie we saw was “ 300 Spartans. I am assuming it was 1962 as that is when the movie came out. On the walk home through the streets of a small northern mining community the northern lights blazed. To me it was just the night sky , I recall asking my father , as a child does , to point out and explain exactly what to look for and what they were. Being young , the splendour was the night sky in it's entirety,the comfort of family and the residual excitement of just been to movie all rolled into one. As a child I was seeing the night sky through a child ‘s eyes , everything was wondrous. The dying experience , although scary holds a wonder “of sorts” all it’s own. (“Pathos activates the eyes and ears to see and hear. At times of pathos illness opens doors to a reality which is closed to a healthy point of view”. Jean Houston) Like a child , but with the experiences of a lifetime , I live by the hour. When I watch the news or any program I find myself empathizing with people or creatures that are in situations that are not pleasant. I have little room for thinly disguised selfishness( an old biker adage in these situations comes to mind “ mean what you say and say what you mean”). Dreams are experiences. Vivid , compelling , thought provoking. They can transport to another plain of consciousness. There is no such thing as sleep as I experienced when I was healthy anymore. Once I get past the stress of worrying about the logistics of providing for my physical needs my mind can soar to places that healthy people have difficulty comprehending. Most don’t get it at all. I work hard for that hour or two of relative comfort , and when it comes , I nurture it into a bliss. If I were to make a graph of the highs and lows during a 24 hr period it would look like waves on the water. Plans to do much are easily thwarted. On numerous occasions I start to try to accomplish something simple , like get into town to get some milk and bread , only to realize half way there that it just is not going to happen today. With complete sincerity I can be laughing on minute , crying the next. I frequently attempt to think about ways to describe the relationship and communication that transpires between relatively healthy people and the terminally ill. Especially with us short timers. Conversations can become easily and quickly misconstrued by both parties. I can only now speak from the position of the terminally ill .I have all but forgotten what it is like to have the luxury of planning for the next day or having the time to make more mistakes and learn from them. The terminally ill live by the hour ! , are ill today , will be ill tomorrow and soon will die. I have a hard time understanding why people can’t grasp this. For those of us that work and fight to hang on and are somewhat successful we are left in a type of limbo. Not really alive and not dead. Hang on for too long and you’ll just be left by the wayside till all runs out. Trying to live and getting ready to die at same time is hard business. There’s a low. The high’s are realizing and appreciating the attempts made of people trying to comprehend and help. The highs are the emotions that sear into the soul. The highs are still being able to appreciate the earthly beauty that surrounds me. There is little time left and each moment of joy is precious and welcomed by my soul. Bye for now , see ya on the other side.