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Turns out it was a plugged gall-bladder and a stone. Values are improving.
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<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 622537" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>You know, Recovering, I have been wondering about that too. I think part of this for me has happened <u>because</u> I am aging. I am invisible now. Literally invisible. There is a time in a young woman's life when nothing she does goes unnoticed, a time when all she needs to do is show up. That time is so gone for me it isn't even funny. I am a little more used to it, now? But there was a time I felt literally invisible because what usually happened was no longer happening. (Oh, wait ~ I still cut quite a swath with the over eighty crowd. They fall at my feet, Recovering! husband says: "Coronary issues, probably.")</p><p></p><p>:O)</p><p></p><p>Part of invisible is that I was thrown back onto my own resources, my own interpretations of who I was and what mattered, and how and why.</p><p></p><p>I used that power instead of developing my own. But when we fly on reflected power, we cannot explore the things that matter, to us. We must find and nurture our own energy, our own powers of flight, to do that. </p><p></p><p>Add to that the strange magic of this site, where none of us can see one another, where age, or race, socioeconomic status or weight just don't matter ~ and the wonder of what we have created here out of generosity and love and anger and pain for ourselves and for one another....</p><p></p><p>I was thinking about this the other day. About how women go into nunneries to retire from the world and think. That always appealed to me. I think about becoming an oblate sister in the order of Benedictines where I went to school, should that opportunity arise, for me. The sisters there were so otherworldly calm, so accepting and perceptive, Recovering. But they were so sharply aware. They loved to laugh, to play, to ride that edge Brene Brown writes about with such confidence, Recovering.</p><p></p><p>It was an amazing thing to see, an amazing place to be. I am so happy I was there.</p><p></p><p>I imagine sitting with Pema Chodron would be like sitting with those sisters, in a way.</p><p></p><p>Just a whole different level of concern.</p><p></p><p>I forgot where I was going with this.</p><p></p><p>I enjoyed your post, though.</p><p></p><p>:O)</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 622537, member: 17461"] You know, Recovering, I have been wondering about that too. I think part of this for me has happened [U]because[/U] I am aging. I am invisible now. Literally invisible. There is a time in a young woman's life when nothing she does goes unnoticed, a time when all she needs to do is show up. That time is so gone for me it isn't even funny. I am a little more used to it, now? But there was a time I felt literally invisible because what usually happened was no longer happening. (Oh, wait ~ I still cut quite a swath with the over eighty crowd. They fall at my feet, Recovering! husband says: "Coronary issues, probably.") :O) Part of invisible is that I was thrown back onto my own resources, my own interpretations of who I was and what mattered, and how and why. I used that power instead of developing my own. But when we fly on reflected power, we cannot explore the things that matter, to us. We must find and nurture our own energy, our own powers of flight, to do that. Add to that the strange magic of this site, where none of us can see one another, where age, or race, socioeconomic status or weight just don't matter ~ and the wonder of what we have created here out of generosity and love and anger and pain for ourselves and for one another.... I was thinking about this the other day. About how women go into nunneries to retire from the world and think. That always appealed to me. I think about becoming an oblate sister in the order of Benedictines where I went to school, should that opportunity arise, for me. The sisters there were so otherworldly calm, so accepting and perceptive, Recovering. But they were so sharply aware. They loved to laugh, to play, to ride that edge Brene Brown writes about with such confidence, Recovering. It was an amazing thing to see, an amazing place to be. I am so happy I was there. I imagine sitting with Pema Chodron would be like sitting with those sisters, in a way. Just a whole different level of concern. I forgot where I was going with this. I enjoyed your post, though. :O) Cedar [/QUOTE]
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Turns out it was a plugged gall-bladder and a stone. Values are improving.
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