Category Archives: friends

Pilgrimsteps: the World Tour

beehive tearoom

I got this idea from Dar, who posted it as #67 of her “100 Things to Do Before I Die” list…

I would totally love to do a Pilgrimsteps World Tour to have a cup of tea with all of you groovy blogfolk. Drop a line in the comments to tell me where I’ll need to stop on my tour (your city), and also name your favorite local teahouse/coffeehouse (or bakery, yum!) for our meetup. Sound fun?

Weehaa, here we go!

For the OC tourstop, we’ll meet at Kean’s Coffee, where we can sip artisan lattes and watch the rich & famous get their caffeine fix.

the prayer of a stranger

Upon waking in the recovery room from my recent surgery, I realized that I couldn’t breathe. I gasped and gasped, trying to scream to let someone know that I couldn’t get enough air. Soon a nurse was at my bedside, placing an oxygen mask over my face, asking me questions about my asthma history that I couldn’t answer. Apparently she added a breathing treatment to the flow of oxygen and I was soon able to draw in air without so much struggle.

After about 10 minutes on the oxygen I was relaxed and the nurse was working around me to disconnect the breathing mask. As she stooped by the head of my bed she whispered to me, in such a way that I’m not sure if I was meant to hear it or not.

She said, “I’ll be praying for you.”

*****

For all of my openness in the blogging sphere, I’m actually a fairly private person in real life. I find it somewhat embarrassing to have strangers take such an interest in my life merely because of my physical disability. Yet at the same time, I’m continually surprised by those like the nurse–or you who read this blog–who are willing to care so much about me.

In the past I’ve written some posts about the ways I feel pitied and demeaned because of my disability. I still feel that way much of the time–especially when someone’s action seems to be more about making themselves feel good than about offering aid. And even as I feel uncertain about the actual power of prayer, I am not ambivalent about the power of human connection. There’s something beautiful and courageous, and curiously intimate, about a stranger or an acquaintance offering a prayer on my behalf.

Though I ceased praying in the Mormon fashion quite some time ago, I still spend time each day in silent meditation. Doing so gives me perspective on my life. It helps me to remember what I believe and to put my actions in line with my core values. I can’t claim that my prayers or my meditations have improved anyone else’s life, even though I think often of others as I sit in silence.

I suspect that I won’t ever approach a stranger and tell them that I praying for them. But in my own way I am saying a prayer with each post that I write on this blog–sending my thoughts, hopes, and intentions out into the ether. Hoping that each of you will know that I care even if I no longer have the faith to couch my intentions into the form of a prayer.

After dark


sunset, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

Nearly every night for the past week I’ve gone late to the garden, watering as the night falls. Lingering until it’s nearly too dark to see my way out. Every moment that I’m there I’m afraid–mostly because of the little beasties that come out in the dark, but also afraid of other hazards. Like two nights ago, I purposefully placed my chair on the site where my leg was punctured. I sat there thinking about how scary that was, how scary the ensuing two months have been, how scared I am that my doctors still can’t agree on how to proceed from here. I let that fear fill me as I sat, and then let it fade away as the night grew progressively darker.

Tonite as I stood alone in the garden, leaning in the wooden fencerail and telling myself that the rustling in the bushes was just a big furry moth, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and knew that I wasn’t alone.

It was the largest coyote that I’ve seen–heavy and full-coated. Nothing like the skinny creatures that I typically see in our neighborhood. I wondered if he was the reason that the bunny population is slim this year and two neighbor cats have recently gone missing. He paid no attention to me, but was intent on moving quickly down the service road that accesses the garden area.

I stood there awhile longer, mentally reviewing recent events. I thought of last night, sitting in Bonny’s porch and chatting by candlelight with some of my dearest friends as I watched the ocean mist roll in (what a lucky girl to live so close to the beach!). We had talked about our recent read of Three Cups of Tea and mused on the courage it took to risk one’s life and resources for the love of children half a world away. Then I thought about my frustration this afternoon after my doctor appointment. How my leg throbbed during the drive there and back in rush-hour traffic and how that feeling was exacerbated by every doc that I saw having an entirely different (and contradictory) opinion on my woundsite. Wondering if the medical system has failed me or am I just not asking the right questions?

My thoughts then turned to happenings after the doctor visit. How CatGirl and I had stopped at a craft store to buy a bit of yarn for some projects and I came up (again) empty-handed in my search for a turquoise bead to center this necklace that I’ve been dreaming about. We arrived home to the pleasure of two packages on the front porch and a friend waiting to chat. He was bearing a slim book on my favorite topic.

I spent the next hour unloading some of my frustrations about my doctor visit as we discussed faith and fear. I am afraid to travel to my sister’s wedding this weekend with so much unresolved about my health. But, as he reminded me, this won’t be Denver and me sitting feverish and sore and scared in a hotel room by myself. Nor will it be me breaking down in tears as I face down the TSA dimwits alone.

As I have learned time and time again over the past few years, life is about overcoming fear. It is standing at the garden gate and waiting for the moon to rise even when every part of your body wants to run to somewhere safer. It is explaining your story to yet another doctor as she puzzles through your chart and tries to make sense of it all. It is knowing that there are coyotes and cancers lurking out there in the dark night.

Those two packages that were waiting for me on my porch? One was a box full of dark chocolate and Summertime tea from some dear friends that I’m acquainted with through the magic of the Internet. The other was filled with beads, including a turquoise lozenge that is nearly exactly what I’ve been imagining (along with a postcard note reminding me of an unforgettable day spent in Concord not too long ago).

Catgirl and I brewed some rose-colored tea and nibbled chocolate and spread out our beadmaking supplies under the light of a lamp on the kitchen table. We giggled and dreamed and created together. Filling the gap left by fear.

Make me smile (and shed a few tears)…


lotsa roses, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

–taking catnap lessons from Elly. And I just love that her favorite nap spot is on the pillow where I prop my left leg. She curls up next to it as if to take that edge of pain away.

–Apparently my big climbing rose is still blooming like crazy. Those coffee grounds I was feeding it all winter–they are working their good magic. I suspect that by the end of the week I’ll get to take a look-see for myself. In the meantime the kids have cut a big bouquet for my table. (Do you know that even though my original injury was in the garden, I want more than anything to return….)

–Friends. There really aren’t enough words to say for the friends who’ve brought (delicious) food, who have visited, who have cared for my children. You people rock!

–I am even more wordless when I think of John during these past few days. I’ve buried my head in his chest and just sobbed–he’s watched every needle going in and has been strong. He’s insisted at being at each doctor appointment and in making sure that I’m not getting my medications muddled up (“the shot glass on your nightstand, that one holds the next dose, dear”). Even while under increasing pressure at work, he’s holding up strong. I am so sorry for the toll on him that this has been. I’m sorry for the way that his needs are continually compromised because of mine.

–And of course I’m smiling because I am feeling better. I am nearly pain-free now and I go to the doc in a few hours to see if I can start back (slowly) into my regular routines again. Best of all, the redness and swelling in my leg is nearly gone. Though I don’t doubt that I’ll have some longterm healing and scarring around the wound site, for the most part my leg is looking quite healthy now.

–just as I’m typing this,Regina Spektor’s “On the Radio” came onto my iTunes playlist.. In so many ways this has been ‘my song’ for the past few years.

๐Ÿ™‚

sharing the love

Do you remember a few months ago when I gushed about all of the great people I met in Boston? Here’s another reason to love those great folks of MA.

Sara, on sharing the love:

So I’ll bet you didn’t realize this, but the whole argument about socialized medicine? It boils down to love. Do you love America? Great. Now do you love what America is made of, Americans? Do you really? Well, how much?

Do we love this country and each other enough to figure out a way for every single person in America to have what has just been given to me [note: she just received life-saving brain surgery]? Or are we too busy judging and measuring and lying to each other about what things really cost to make this kind of possibility a reality for every single person?

Every single person deserves this level of help and service. Every single one. I only got it because of luck, finding the bad thing at the right time in the right place with an amazing surgeon and his team just happening to be available to me right at this moment, strictly the luck of the draw.

Oh, and because I live in Massachusetts.

In Massachusetts, we are often rude and cold in demeanor, careless of the environment, and even atrocious drivers. You know what else we do, though? Bottom line, we love one another enough individually and conceptually to put our money where our politics, philosophies, and religions are and really take care of each other, or at least to try. Yes, if you live somewhere else in the country, it is very likely that we pay higher taxes than you. Nobody likes paying taxes. But nobody here likes people to die of treatable and preventable medical conditions.

happy day!


birght light, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

Just having returned from a weekend retreat in Julian, CA, I can say that this turned out to be a happy trip for all of us. Some highlights:

-Everyone recovered enough from the FluB for us to hightail it out of town early Saturday morning. A lovely drive through the California countryside. Driving past blossoming citrus orchards with the windows down and inhaling deeply.

-Flowers. Everywhere! (including huge clumps of daffodils!)

-Discovering that the food at camp was truly worth gushing over. Local, green, fresh, handmade with herbs and ingenuity. Big salads of mixed greens, golden beet soup, chicken (and chick’n) marsala, crepe-pancakes, and the best sugar cookies, ever!

-Julian apples (and apple pie) and finding a local stand selling avocados 25/$5

-3 games of Ticket to Ride IN A ROW with a worthy opponent. Lost two, won one.

-Marveling at the burn damage from last Fall’s fires. Blackened tree stumps everywhere. Joining a work crew on Saturday to plant trees in the burned areas. Digging deep in the ash-laden soil, making new homes for the small saplings.

-Time for quiet worship in the morning. In small groups and in a large circle with Friends. Sharing my thoughts and experiences. Being open to hearing others’ stories. Realizing the joy that comes from striving together.

-Being away from it all: no cellphones, no wifi. Just a lot of wide open spaces and trees and meadows, and deer, and hawks, and frogs singing at night. And sharing it all with the people that I love. ๐Ÿ™‚

so blue

CatBonny brought me this alpaca shawl/scarf from her recent trip to Chile. I love how it is so blue, so soft, and so warm.

I am one lucky girl.

Even though I have so much blue in my wardrobe now, today I am wearing the groovy new red corduroy skirt that I scored on a recent goodwill run. Beside the skirt I found myself a shiny blue SIGG bottlefor 43 cents (woohoo). I have had SIGG-bottle envy for several months….

get your goat

My Friend Angela has been in Africa for the past few weeks working in an IHF orphanage. She’s blogging her experiences and they are so heartwarming. I encourage each of you to spend a few moments at her website.

Angela recently sent out a plea for sponsors for orphans and goats. If you haven’t yet completed your gift-giving, or you want to do a little more for those that have less, please consider an IHF donation:

I hope that this holiday season greets you with love, warmth and happiness. At the International Humanity Foundation (IHF) our volunteers are working hard to help make this a special time for the marginalized poor nomadic families in Pokot, Kenya. As part of our Survival program, we are seeking generous individuals willing to buy goats for these families. These goats are a main source of nutrition (and survival) for so many. Every week we dispatch our volunteers to the auction market to buy the goats and distribute them to the families in their homes (where we ensure that they are in fact the poorest of the poor). If you purchase one of our goats* (for US$ 20) we will take a photo of the family receiving the goat, and send you a certificate. You can also choose to sponsor one of our many children in the IHF Nakuru Orphanage (for US$ 37/month) and we will facilitate communication between you and your child through emails and photos. Sponsoring with IHF really does make a special gift; one that keeps on giving to those that are most in need. If you have any questions about our Survival Program, sponsoring one of our orphans, or the International Humanity Foundation please contact IHF@ihfonline.org or visit our website ihfonline.org.

Wishing you the best this holiday season!

Warm Regards,
Carol Sasaki and the IHF family

Note: if you scroll about halfway down the main IHF page you will see the information for goat donation. I like that the goat is far less than for some charities and the photo sounds like a neat thank-you!