Cackling While I Was Naked

My eyeball is healing. But we’ll be on a few medications, rocking glasses only, and seeing the ophthalmologist a lot for the next few weeks… just to make sure things continue to improve. I noticed the infection early, so there has been none of the agony or blurriness I had to live with the last time my cornea went holey. Alas, no sexy eye-patched pirate this time around.

The last few days were for listening to audiobooks, resting, walking, taking care of logistics, and for running s l o w l y (I did other things too, but they involved cackling while I was naked, and this isn’t that kind of post). My legs and lungs are regaining their strength quicker than I expected. I’ve been good to me—taking a lot of breaks while exercising, even when the pauses weren’t prompted by fatigue; and I’ve been sleeping. I’m following a hybrid version of my former Daily Thirteen, Jeff Galloway’s 5K Training, and guidance from my physical therapist/trainer. I was about to start Week 3 of 15, when my eyeball got its dot… so I’ve decided to start over from week one… on Monday, I think… No rush, right?

I want to thank every Wicked Darling who sent me get better soon wishes and hysterical jokes—you rocketh very mucho and your sense of humor is freaking delicious! My inbox is about to explode, so please don’t think that I’m ignoring you if it takes a bit before I reply.

To those of you who emailed me to ask different versions of: “How did you beat chronic pain?” (perhaps inspired by the fact that I’m running again). Well, I haven’t “beaten” pain. I doubt anyone can do that. I work with mine. Running hurts; doing calisthenics hurts; walking downhill hurts; holding a book in front of me hurts; sitting down, other than on my bed, hurts a lot… But if I keep my arms very close to my body while I run, the pain doesn’t make me lose my balance; if I modify my position when doing crunches, my back gives me a slight break; if I walk downhill sideways, with my strong side turned forward, my nerve pain doesn’t steal my breath… Small consistent compromises work for me most of the time.

Chronic pain is a rather personal thing, methinks. Many of us share the physical throbbing, the emotional burden, and often the rage. But the ways in which our bodies function and fight are different. There is no beating this, at least not for me. Most of my chronic pain comes from physical trauma, so I suspect that things will get trickier as time does its thing. I also know that I’ll come up with new tactics in order to help my mind and body dance with the trickster. This is the only advice I can give: Listen to your body; never allow pride (or misplaced badassness) fool you into believing that you know more than what your body tells you it feels… Then glare a lot and bare your teeth. I do it all the time.

On the writing front, the conclusion of the Laila Flynn web serial shall be published on Friday. It’s already scheduled—no spotty body part can postpone the mayhem. I’m almost done with the first draft of a Lum and Darlene novella, for the second book in the Blooming Howls Series). Oh, and I’ve been having some serious research fun while I learn about the haibun, haiku and senryu Japanese forms of short poetry.

That’s all, my Luvs. I showed you mine. Would you like to show me yours? If you aren’t too shy, that is *cough, cough, cough*. Seriously though, what kind of trouble did you get into while I was gone?

P.S. Feel free to roar at Fate’s obliteration of my recently-born schedule; I did… Then I grabbed a pencil and notepad and drafted another… What if Fate feels the need to murder my latest effort? Well, I have writing supplies galore… plus endless stubbornness to boot.

P.P.S. I shall lurk around your cyber homes tonight… Muahahaha!

TenacityNature’s tenacity, as portrayed by this tree, had me grinning like a lunatic, for at least a quarter of a mile… 🙂

Teeth Flashing Lightning

The cackling
of feet smacking sand
thunders back into the world;

insistent…
filling muscle and bone
with blood so hot,
that the tongue licks
nearly forgotten triumphs.

Under the ribs,
a knife births a burning flinch;

above,
in the house
where thoughts craft
life’s clay,
Brain kisses Endorphin
that melts into a rushing sea
and swallows quail.

Feet slow dance to a walk,
lungs work natural magic:
1, 2, 3… 28 breaths

before thunder smacks again,

teeth flashing
lightning.

Process Note (told you I was addicted to these things *sigh*): I was going to take a break from poetry, maybe two weeks… but Michael (AKA Grapeling) shared a prompt full of Neruda’s words and made me a liar. I mean, how could anyone resist? Look at this selection: “fragment, insistent, withdrawing, sea, clay, gnawed, empty, knife, suburb, face, house, blood”. By the way, my Wicked Luvs, can you tell that I’m completely drunk on running? And it’s freaking delicious!

for the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads (Grapeling’s Get Listed for May: Pablo Neruda)
Two Women Running on the Beach, by Pablo PicassoTwo Women Running on the Beach, by Pablo Picasso
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