Still seeing the ocean, experiencing a tropical cabana, hearing comforting sounds of surf, feeling aqua-blues, and the elegance of a draped mosquito net - in images magically altered or made vague by dreaming. Mmmmmm...

The semester has begun. Another challenge and opportunity! Teaching gets easier and more enjoyable the more I let go and operate from a state of intuition - or maybe the cliché - from being "in the moment" applies. Either way, it contains delight. Other mostly non-teaching stuff - the conflict of visions, petty irritations, frustration with administration is not so much fun. However, secretly, I just don't have much invested in it, and when I do get mad or upset, it feels like I'm playing a game.

Saw a new MD yesterday and was shocked to discover her office was behind Haywood Regional Hospital. Told her up front that I would probably never agree to any procedure being done there - due to an experience a friend had....Felt she knew about that experience. She blushed when saying she had been Chief of Staff.

Miss Skittish here (ok, scaredy cat, and a baby) or whatever I'm called - could never trust that place now - and maybe not any place.

This trip to Tulum (Mexico) made me think about the nature of heaven. The coast matched closely my visual IDEA of paradise - turquoise ocean, white sand, tropical fruit, all framed by palm trees. Soon, a broader picture emerged, and I started talking and laughing about the Dark Side of Paradise (which friend Marius has suggested as a title for my next piece.)

Perfection is not a one-sided façade. Within it, there is room for an iguana eating an egg, a merchant who cheats you (that's another story), the smell of rotting seaweed, guilt feelings, sweat running down your spine and between your breasts, bug bites, people who are not paid well, and fine sand in your bed...

...and difficult yoga twice a day in jungle heat like a Bikram studio; vitality of feeling your body come alive (after soreness abates), a wealth of fruit, vegetarian chile rellenos, interesting people, a Mayan mud massage, reading a brilliant book ("My Name Is Red") in the shade, ocean swimming, beach walking-wading (3 hours one evening), the Coba ruins, and a week without shoes...

On day 2, August 11, Chuck called and we learned his sister Janet had died a few hours earlier.

Last night instead of ocean rhythms, I was soothed by crickets and katydids - all sweet sounds of night.

Chuck's sister became gravely ill, and he left Monday within hours of getting the phone call - to be with her. MDs will stabilize her, manage pain. The plan is for her to go home with hospice care.

The family including mother have gathered. She has wonderful support and understands she may be saying goodbye. She's a beautiful person. My heart is both full and aching.