Day: March 16, 2018

I love Gus’s donkey ride, we haven’t been able to do that since we got his muzzle, which frightens the donkeys and causes him to be a bit off-balance. This was Gus’s high water mark as a farm dog, and kids send me letters all the time begging for him to get up there again. Not at the moment.

Gus on the donkey defined him for a while, and brought him some national attention. Every photo of him on a donkey went viral. It was a delightful sight, an affirmation of our wish for him to be a farm dog.

Maria and I took vet to the Gus and today and we had a good, thorough and honest talk with her about his megaesophagus and what we can expect in the future,, we went over the history of Gus’s experience with the disease, what worked, what didn’t, we checked over his weight, discussed how it impacted on our lives and how we felt about it.

We spent a long time discussing Gus’s suffering and digestive troubles.

Dr Fariello laid out all of the options available to her now, and we all spoke openly and honestly about how we felt. I think those conversations need to be private.

As is obvious, we talked the possibility of euthanizing Gus and also discussed what might be worth trying for a while longer. It is such a gift to have a vet we can talk with so openly.  I will be honest with you, as I strive to be, Maria and I said we wanted to think about things and talk about them privately.

There is a time to share things and a time to go inward and look for clarity, and in privacy. So I won’t write about Gus further or read messages about him until we get clear on what we are doing.

Maria and I always have this agreement that we both have to be in the same place when we make important decisions, each of us has veto power at anytime over any decision.  We both have different was of deciding things, but we always get to a place where both of us are in agreement.

Perhaps I am just learning how to do it, but Maria and I talk very easily and openly with one another, with respect and understanding. We always get where we need to go.

When we do something it is because we have talked about it, thought about it, argued about it, and come to the same place.

If we don’t, then there is no decision. So I’ll be writing on the blog this weekend as usual, but not writing about Gus for a while. I’m not being coy, but sometimes I just have to go inward, to the center, and listen to myself and Maria. And sometimes, I just need some space to think. So does she.

We have a good and full weekend planned, my writing class in the morning, friends visiting Saturday and Sunday, maybe a movie sandwiched in between, new pasture boots for Maria.

I am in close contact with Robin Gibbons, Gus’s breeder and her son Bryan, they are good and valued friends and we share all of the news of Gus’s condition with them.  Bryan loved Gus when he was a new puppy, they are pals still. They are wonderful people, and we value knowing them, we consider them family. Gus’s illness was not a breeding issue in any way.

So, I’ll be in touch. If and when there is some news, I will share it as soon as seems right. I believe very strongly that everything is a gift, I respect life and accept it. That is my faith, and is what sustains me.

Peggy won the last round of Bingo Night at the Mansion, Maria and I took turns calling the game. One resident is angry with me because he considers Bingo to be gambling, but all we exchanged were laughs, smiles, hugs and an hour of escape and camaraderie, for all of us.

The Mansion residents seem to like it when Maria and I come on Friday nights to run the Bingo game for an hour, from 6 p.m. to 7. They were waiting for us, we were five minutes late. We were warned to be on time next week (we have agreed to come next week as well).

This was a challenging week for us, and we were delighted to be there, there were many of the usual dramas. One of the players can’t move the number covers on the board, another can’t see the numbers on the board, another has some psychological issues and storms out of the room periodically.

We  have to call the numbers but also be able to help the players, so there is a fair amount of running around.

The Mansion continues to suffer from cabin fever from this long and cold and snowy winter. One of the residents came to the door of the cafeteria and glowered at  us and stormed out. Another got into a shouting match with someone else at the table, and I puffed myself like a big bear and looked her in the eye and said “NO FIGHTING HERE” in a loud voice.

The fighter challenged me and said “what will you do about it?,” and I answered, “I’ll pack up the bingo game and leave, and you can tell your friends why there is no more game.”

“Where will I go?,” she asked. “Up to you, ” I said, “you have a room to go to if you wish.”

I added: “I am happy you are here and I hope you stay, but I will not be a part of any fighting. I am not her to fight or to watch people fight.”

She got up and left, and came back later to ask me if I could get her something she needed. I said sure.

It got back to normal. I think it was necessary for me to state that, and it is a good way to respond. I went out and bought what the asked for.

The residents had fun, when either of us didn’t call out numbers that matched their boards, they would shout out “you’re fired. New caller!” There was a lot of laughing. We  had a good time.

Red goes from table to table greeting everyone and presenting himself for patting and scratching.  He loves the Mansion.

Maria felt the same way I do, she was happy to go to the Bingo game, we enjoy it. Doing good is the best distraction, it takes you out of  yourself. We were both laughing. I said I was very fortunate to marry someone who is delighted to come to an assisted care facility on  Friday nights and run a Bingo game. We are both a bit crazy, I think. I married very well.

As we were leaving, I asked the residents if we could pump up the prizes a bit. One wanted a gift certificate to Battenkill Books, he is an avid reader, two others wanted stuffed animals, another urged me to surprise her. I have some ideas for next week. One of the women surprised me by asking for a pipe and some tobacco.

I’ll do that.

Peggy, above, was tickled, she won the last game. I know what she wants, she has a stack of stuffed animals on her bed, and sleeps next to them.

This year, I am re-dedicating myself to the refugees and immigrants who have come to America, they are my  brothers and sisters, my children. I admit I do not understand the process by which so many political leaders and other people have come to see them as dangerous or unwelcome.

That is not what I see, not what I feel. The other night, I had a nightmare, we had a new President and a new administration and I drifted back to my former life, focusing mostly on my blog, photos and books. In the dream, the Army Of Good melted slowly away, all of us returning to our normal lives and pursuits.

I woke up and asked myself if I was really committed to this cause, if I meant to pursue and reach out to these people and stay with them. I believe the answer is yes, my commitment to this is stronger than ever, for them, for my country, for me.

Refugees do not have to be rich or successful to come her and be welcomed, almost all of them come from the “shithole” countries our President denigrated. I have found that the most desperate and badly wounded of the immigrants are passionately invested in success, in finding work, in doing well, in being loyal and productive future citizens.

I have not yet me a one who doesn’t wish to work and contribute and give their children betters lives than they had, and work to heal the great wounds so many of them bear. Everybody plans and wishes and hopes, and so do they.

In her wonderful essay “We Refugees,” first published in 1943, Hannah Arendt writes “We lost our home, which means the familiarity of daily life. We lost our occupation, which means the confidence that we are of some use in this world. We lost our language, which mans the naturalness of reactions, the simplicity of gestures, the unaffected expression of feelings.”

And many of the refugees I have met lost much more than that – their mothers, fathers, grandmothers and grandfathers, their brothers an sisters, their peace of mind and traditions. The experience of being a refugee is the experience of almost total loss. There are so many holes to fill.

This year, we have lifted the shroud from many lives and brought some light and eased much suffering. We have paid off the burdensome loans of mothers, bought clothes for a score of children, bought tools for artists, donated clothing to hundreds, brought groceries to families, bought uniforms for the soccer team, are planning for summer camp trips, uniforms for the girl’s basketball team, birthday parties and movie outings, boat trip and amusement park visits, country retreats, furnished school classrooms, bought supplies, paid for lessons.

They are learning that they are not alone any more, there are generous and welcoming people who wish to help them.

We are just getting started. This is such an important cause, it took me months to win their trust, and I hope to earn it in the coming year.  One simple and inexpensive way to help is through the new RISSE Amazon Wish List.

The are things they need.

Another way to help is through my own work with the refugees and immigrants I am meeting.

I hope you can continue to join me in this work as we plan for 2018. I’m in all the way. If you wish to help, you can send your contribution to Jon Katz, P.O. Box 205, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816 or via Paypal, [email protected]. Please mark your contributions “refugees,” and thank you.

I made my fourth visit to the health center this morning to try to get on top of my pneumonia, which has given me and many others a hard time this winter. Karen Bruce, the Nurse-Practitioner who has guided me through my holistic medicine phase, diabetes and heart disease, was on the case this time as well. She put me on antibiotics, steroids and had my chest X-rayed yesterday.

I couldn’t shake the cough, but that, it turns out, is pretty typical.

“Your lungs are clear,” she said, “suck it up and drink Ginger tea with honey.” She said it would just take a while for my cough to vanish, maybe even a month. I’m drinking Ginger tea with honey. We talked for a while, Karen is moving to the Adirondacks in May, she will live and practice there, in the new home she and her husband are building on a lake.

I will miss Karen, but I’m very excited about where she is going in life. She has gotten psych  training so she can help people in the Adirondacks who need counseling and have little access to shrinks and psychologists, and also tend to their health issues.

They are lucky to be getting her there.

We talked about my own therapy,  my experience with psycho-therapy, and talking therapy, and Karen said something that touched me.  Karen has a great gift of making me feel healthy, even when I’m sick.

“You know, Jon, she said, “you’re very centered. You have a centeredness.”

I hadn’t heard this term before, certainly not in reference to me. I looked it up. One dictionary defined the term as meaning a specific center. Being self-confident,  stable and well-balanced. I certainly have never felt that way about myself for most of myself, and I appreciated the fact that someone as direct and experienced as Karen would see me in that way.

I have spent most of life wandering in trauma and fear, the idea of me as stable seemed strange. Yet I do feel stable now, and have felt stable – and been stable – for some years. I weathered bankruptcy, divorce, the recession, the collapse of publishing and many other things all at once, and I felt even and strong and clear.

We got through all of them.

I have never thought of myself as well-balanced, yet my life is in balance now. There is work, love, friendship, rest, animals, teaching, friends, photography. When I think about it, my life is in balance. Not one things, but many different things, and all of them good and meaningful things.

I have doubted my self for almost all of myself, but I do not doubt myself much now. I try to face the truth about myself, but not in a doubting way. My life has made me humble, but it has also given me strength. I am clear about what I think, and what I wish to do. I feel strong in my interior, I trust my instincts and follow them, I am sure of my love for Maria and of her love for me.

I handled my health issues – diabetes, heart disease  – without drama or regret. I was  not afraid of open heart surgery, I was grateful for the chance to give my heart more time. I love writing on my blog and taking photos.

I am never at a loss for ideas, and I am not afraid to express myself. As the moral philosopher Hannah Arendt suggested, the person I must please is the face in the mirror, no one else. My goal is self-respect, it is not about what others think, it is about what I think.

I must never hate myself again for anything I do. The more I thought about it, the more I came to understand this idea of centeredness, living in my center, and having a center that is strong and secure. It is the center that has to hold.

To my surprise, I didn’t deflect or dismiss Karen’s kind words, I actually saw that I am more centered than I have ever been, I feel grounded in the center. I do have a centeredness that holds, and this is a spiritual idea of depth far beyond my life.

“At the center of our being,” wrote Thomas Merton, “is a point of nothingness, which is untouched by sin and illusion, a point of pure truth, a point of spark which belongs entirely to God, which is never at our disposal, from which God disposes of our lives, which is inaccessible to the fantasies of our own mind or the brutalities of our own will. This little point of nothingness and of absolute poverty is the pure glory of God in us. It is so to speak His name written in us, as our poverty, as our indigence, as our dependence, as our sonship. It is like a pure diamond, blazing with the invisible light of heaven. It is in everybody, and if we would see these billions of points of light coming together in the face and blaze of a sun that would make all the darkness and cruelty of life vanish completely…”

I am not clear in my mind about God, or the role of God in my life, but I love this idea of centeredness, of looking to the center of our being, of a point of pure truth, of coming together in a blaze of sun that could banish the darkness and cruelty of life…

If I am not the embodiment of centeredness, I am close to the idea.

I do feel centered in my life and strong,  in my life there are now many points of light coming together, we have made some of the darkness and cruelty lighter and softer. I have sensed the little points of nothingness, I dream of the pure diamond, blazing with the light of heaven.

I spent $5.67 on the RISSE Amazon Wist List Today, and another $21 for a Rubbermaid Drink Dispenser. I’m thinking about the drill bits for another today, it isn’t romantic but needed.Several UPS and Fedex trucks delivered a wall full of boxes.

You are doing the most wonderful work, the RISSE staff and students are stunned and grateful me too. Check it out, there is not much left, a new list is coming. We are keeping up and they are so tired but so happy. We are showing them that we are a generous and welcoming people.

Friends, thanks for supporting RISSE. If you wish to support my work with the refugee children, you can contribute by sending your donation to my post office box, P.O. Box 205 Cambridge, N.Y., 12816, or via Paypal, [email protected]. Please mark the check “refugees,” thanks.

At the moment, I am raising funds for retreats, camp, clothes, lessons, and equipment for the girl’s basketball team.