and I do
Say light
and I open
my eyes.
Say dark
and I close,
staying close
to the guides,
all the while
remembering light.
- Shaista Tayabali, 2013
There are still swathes of snowdrops around, so Spring hasn't sprung yet. Meanwhile March has taken on a martial air. The Blue Eyed Surgeon has determined that the time has come for a Second Tube in my eye.
A SECOND TUBE!!
I contemplated leaping out of the window but there were all sorts of ophthalmic instruments in the way.
And anyway, Blue Eyes is about to get his Black Belt in Karate... I could probably take him (I know my Kata Fukyu Ichi and jodan tsuki) but I opted for the demure approach, pretending to accept my fate.
Seven years ago was the darkest year of my life, so a piece of me feels crumbly inside. It won't be as bad - I know it won't because... well, it just can't. I won't let it.
But to help me pretend to myself, I employed London - the brilliance and grace of the sublime art of Federico Barocci at the National Gallery helped...
The Virgin Mary, the Angel and the sleeping cat soothed, but not enough, so I went to a concert in St Martin-in-the-Fields (the Church with the Ever Open Door). The Mozart was fine but by the end of Beethoven's Serenade I was swiping away tears by candlelight. At the interval, my companions turned to me and said, "Wasn't that a wonderfully light and airy piece? Lovely! Delightful!" Er... Right. Stop thinking about The Tube, I admonished self sternly.
I gathered myself with Haydn and Schubert and by the second Mozart Flute quartet I was all smiles - the cellist, one Christopher Suckling, was the most expressive musician I have ever seen, second only to Lang Lang - and anyone with that level of enthusiasm deserves a smiling enchanted audience.
So there you have it - the darkness and the light. My friends Liv and Niamh have been worrying about me, so this post is to comfort and amuse them, as is this picture I took at the bottom of the garden - I see two hearts in the centre - do you see leaves or hearts?
- Shaista Tayabali, 2013
There are still swathes of snowdrops around, so Spring hasn't sprung yet. Meanwhile March has taken on a martial air. The Blue Eyed Surgeon has determined that the time has come for a Second Tube in my eye.
A SECOND TUBE!!
I contemplated leaping out of the window but there were all sorts of ophthalmic instruments in the way.
And anyway, Blue Eyes is about to get his Black Belt in Karate... I could probably take him (I know my Kata Fukyu Ichi and jodan tsuki) but I opted for the demure approach, pretending to accept my fate.
Seven years ago was the darkest year of my life, so a piece of me feels crumbly inside. It won't be as bad - I know it won't because... well, it just can't. I won't let it.
But to help me pretend to myself, I employed London - the brilliance and grace of the sublime art of Federico Barocci at the National Gallery helped...
The Virgin Mary, the Angel and the sleeping cat soothed, but not enough, so I went to a concert in St Martin-in-the-Fields (the Church with the Ever Open Door). The Mozart was fine but by the end of Beethoven's Serenade I was swiping away tears by candlelight. At the interval, my companions turned to me and said, "Wasn't that a wonderfully light and airy piece? Lovely! Delightful!" Er... Right. Stop thinking about The Tube, I admonished self sternly.
I gathered myself with Haydn and Schubert and by the second Mozart Flute quartet I was all smiles - the cellist, one Christopher Suckling, was the most expressive musician I have ever seen, second only to Lang Lang - and anyone with that level of enthusiasm deserves a smiling enchanted audience.
So there you have it - the darkness and the light. My friends Liv and Niamh have been worrying about me, so this post is to comfort and amuse them, as is this picture I took at the bottom of the garden - I see two hearts in the centre - do you see leaves or hearts?
I see a face with eyes! Shaista, as you enter surgery, place yourself in God's hands and trust. All of our love and prayers will be with you. Do send us bulletins as you are able to. May the operation recharge your eyes, so they continue to see and share with us all the beauty that you find as you walk through the world with such beauty and grace. Much love!
ReplyDeleteShaista, I echo mi amiga Sherry, much spiritual good feelings I shall at this moment channel your way. Isn't it interesting what unique beauty the world appears to one when under certain conditions. I think what one sees is what one is, what one has chosen to be.
ReplyDeleteYou and Sherry both have a journey that can be shared.
Con todo mi corazon, Mi amor para los dos!
you have made us love you through your writings ... it won't be bad ... we won't let it be bad ... our prayers are with you.
ReplyDeleteI have been worried too, and yet I didn't think to come here (what has distracted me?). My love and thoughts and prayers are yours.
ReplyDelete