Spirit is a powerful realization that despite our fragile and finite lives it is possible to live deeply through each moment, always carving a path toward loving forgiveness and hope. The path of spirit is never easy, and takes courage and patience. Once tapped, its power can reveal strength, purpose, creativity and love.
Author Archives: Garnet David
Gall Bladder Surgery
I go under the knife today to have my dysfunctional gall bladder removed. (wouldn’t it be nice to have neuroses so neatly and completely removed?)
Wish me luck. Laparoscopic technology cannot be used in my case, since I have rebuilt plumbing from my first surgery for cancer 12 years ago. So it’ll be the old fashioned way, with formaldehyde and leeches and rusty saws.
I’m sure all will go well. I should be home by Wednesday, well enough to goad all my friends with all my needs into desperately wishing me completely recovered. Don’t knock it, it works.
David
Being Gay and Being Good
Joel Osteen, author of the bestselling Become a Better You, says being gay is “not God’s best”. Oh darn, I didn’t make the cut!
I say I’m exactly the way I should be. Perhaps in a world where role models for being gay were encouraged rather than the demonized, gays might have a better chance of adjusting to the often ridiculous and narrow strictures of “straight” society, with its questionable moral rectitude and double standards.
Better yet, perhaps God is hinting to straight society that a better model is among them and they should wake up and pay attention. After all, since gay culture has seeped into straight life, especially through fashion, manners, taste and style, haven’t God’s ideals for a better “man” been upgraded?
What’s your take?
The Scented Garden from Spring to Fall
I haven’t written much about the garden for awhile. My obsession with gardening has mellowed with time and age. However, after 17 years of maturing, this garden could be seen as a reflection of myself: a bit wild, a bit of fantasy, full of variety, inviting, comforting and stable within a pattern of constant change and interest.
When I first started gardening, I read all the books on garden design. My goal was not so much the pattern of design as it was variety and constant interest, meaning a balance of evergreen and deciduous, color (including leaves and flowers) all season, and scented flowers all season.
With my large nose I am able to smell quite well. I enjoy noticing the shapes, colors and essences of a scent.
The sense of smell overrides memory and thought. It is a primal experience. Most of us are probably more discerning than we think, but we tend to ignore our nose’s input because it doesn’t serve our daily lives much. Unless you are a perfumer, smell doesn’t help make money, get chores done, feed the kids or pay the bills.
Yet through the day your nose can “see” the air around you via the scents wafting near your face. Not all are beautiful, but each gives texture and depth to your experience.
The garden offers constant interest for the nose. In my garden I have three early blooming Witch Hazels (Hamamelis) which flower in late winter, usually February to March in in Ohio. Two of them were chosen for the flower color and size, but their smell is weak.
One, Hamamelis Vernalis, has insignificant looking flowers, but a very strong, sweet smell of cloves and honey. On a slightly warm, breezy late winter day when the sun is shining, that sweet smell floats across the garden to delight your nose with the promise of Spring to come. It’s a rare treat. The flowers are built to endure hard frost, so even after a week of severe weather during its time of bloom, the scent will remain in waiting for the next nice day.
Summer offers a plethora of heavily sweet smelling flowers. I have a few hardy roses in my shady garden. My favorite rose smells are those of “old rose”, richer and more heady than “tea” roses. Some contain hints of gardenia, sassafras and cherry.
Of all summer scents, my favorite is that of Asiatic Lilies, particularly the giant white Casablanca. Its scent packs a wallop with thick, creamy layers of baked vanilla custard filled with cardamom carried on a background of citrus.
Scented tobacco (Nicotiana alata) flowers are a bit spicier, offering a cinnamon allspice smell only at night. Their glowing white flowers engage the interest of moths at night to complete their pollination.
Other scented flowers in my garden include: Honeysuckle, some Hostas, some daffodils, Sweet Autumn Clematis, Seven Sons Tree (Heptacodium miconioides) and Bee Balm.
After most other flowers have faded and dropped, one plant just begins to bloom. Cimicifuga “Black Beauty” has dark brown to black leaves during Spring and Summer. Then long stalks arise a foot or more above the plant. As the weather cools in September to October, small white flowers open along the top of each stalk. Their lack of ornamental beauty is well balanced by their strong, sweet smell. Vanilla, clove and honey prevail.
At almost anytime of year in my garden, you could go out blindfolded and still enjoy an array of beautiful and alluring scents.
My Mother’s 87th Birthday
I am a lucky fool. I have a mother who has thrived for 86 years and now begins her 87th. She is healthy and makes no demands at all on me. She never has.
I am lucky to have been able to take my time appreciating her. Many people lose one or both of their parents at a much younger age than I. My mother’s health has given me time to grow up and know her as a woman and a friend in addition to being my mother. She offers valuable perspective on any issue I have in life. Her motherly love waits for my need, but she treats me with respect and dignity as well. A nice balance.
Some friends of mine have parents who are demanding or needy, making it hard to see them as people rather than parents. I am lucky both my parents are independent and continue to grow in wisdom and love.
I am foolish to allow myself even the smallest complacency in appreciating my mother. I feel an urgency about getting to know her as well as I can. There are times when we have clicked like old buddies, cackling at childish jokes, but I fumble at such closeness. It feels too new and unusual coming from the woman who has always been the “parent”.
A gay man and his mother have a particular bond. There is a unique closeness possible because another woman doesn’t enter into his life as a wife might, so his mother can remain and become a very close female friend, one who knows him inside and out. I have seen that friendship blossom timidly between us, but formality still reigns and I keep the distance necessary to maintain that. She is available but I am not. And she is OK with that. Our closeness only goes as far as I can handle. I wish I could let it go further, but that’s OK, too.
I am a lucky fool.
Happy Birthday Mom. Do you have any good dirty jokes to tell?