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INVITATION TO THE DANCE

 AN AGELESS ENDURING PRESENCE

Wrinkles increase with each passing day

On the journey to becoming Ageless.

Weathered by sun, wind and rain

Enduring like a mountain.

Parts are washed away,

Tiny eruptions, ground shifts beneath,

Yet, covered by nourishing pastures

Forested Mountain remains standing.

 

REVELATIONS

Every flower has a seed.

Every branch has a tree.

Every death births an unknown future.

 

AWAKENINGS

Loss upon loss, opening a new path forward.

Crack upon crack, this moment breaks open.

Tear upon tear, sorrow floods my heart.

LiDoña Wagner Invitation to the Dance 2026

SOLACE FOR THE SOUL

In the Year of the Fire Horse,
July was depicted as a time of creativity & passion.
And so it was …

Music - a primal life response- is Solace for the Soul, 
beating out stories of unseen connections to all living matter.

We dance to the heartbeat of African drums,
Feel the spirit of ancient mountains as we
Blow the breath of life across Latin American flute reeds,
Meet the transcendent in the hypnotic rhythms of Indian sitars.

As a youth listening to the lonely wail of a train whistle off in the distance,
Hearing Gershwin in Paris mixing tiffany & brass to mimic steel mills and factories,
Introduced to the awesomeness of nature in the Grand Canyon Suite, My 5^th grade imagination was inspired to follow the Oregon Trail.

Recently arriving for a matinee performance of 20^th century American love songs,
My friends and I were irritated by an Amazon truck in the parking lot,
Representing the failure of materialism to address real human needs.

Once inside, the fullness of life displayed itself on stage.
Musicians of every age in contemporary society,
a multiplicity of ethnicities, a variety of instruments.

These storytellers of the unseen evoked enduring memories
in listeners who first heard sound in the intimacy of the womb.
Remembered words and melodies stirred their repository of past solutions,
perhaps opening a search for new life-giving combinations. 

Most songs were unknown to me until a deep-throated woman sang
Clouds - Seeing things from both sides now - I really don’t know why.
For some reason it brought to mind my experience of the world premier of
an Asian composer making music with sounds of stones & water.

Though they did not play any Phillip Glass music, I recalled the hypnotic
repetition of the Indonesian gongs that inspired his compositions,
its resonance with the heartbeat of humanity.

I thought of 70,000 migrants massed in Cueta, Spain
striving to create a new reality, searching for possibility.
A young African man asking “Do you think I would be here if I had a job?” 

What if that massing of hope in a future not yet realized were the womb of life-giving humanity? What music might be written to celebrate such an enduring victory?

Mythic Month of July 2026

THE MYTHIC MONTH OF JULY 2026

In the Year of the Fire Horse,
July was predicted to be a time of personal growth.
And so it was …

FINDING PERSONAL AGENCY

The public bus passed a huge gap in construction,
the hospital where Eugene babies were born,
where I received a prescription for a life-saving pacemaker, 
was a mostly vacant lot with piles of debris.
Gone because a supposedly religious organization
had carried out extensive federal corruption.

Further on, huge private student housing structures
had replaced charming eateries and coffee shops.
The former UO Bookstore was now a commercial 
outlet for green and yellow clothing - Duck paraphernalia.

The formerly vivacious Apple computer store 
was now four racks of accessories 
available by ringing a bell for service. 
Occasional students rattled around like lost souls
seemingly without direction, guidance, or purpose.

In a daze of disorientation, I found my way 
to a bus station for returning to downtown Eugene.
The friendly academic community where I invested
fourteen years of my life was unrecognizable and 
probably now long forgotten.

Reaching the newly developed 5^th Street Market area,
I scrambled around for half an hour, up and down stairs, through areas that were once familiar - in what I had known as the Market. 

Even with the address for Eugene Yoga, I could not fathom that it was not where I assumed it must be. Finally, someone took me outside and pointed me to a building a block away and on a different street.

Stumbling late into my first Restorative Yoga class,
I removed my coat, hat, phone, shoes and socks,
Spotting an open area - I rolled out my mat.
I was practically sobbing by the time the instructor
cloistered me with bolsters, blankets, and blocks.
Lying as a pitiful heap on the mat,

it dawned that ...
Entities of my own creation are now irrelevant.
I am carrying old baggage from the past 
that is a hindrance to being an effective person
in today’s world. I must identify and let it go.

Little by little …
I am breaking free of what is no longer relevant.

At first, I was clumsy, awkward, and unintelligible
to my friends. It was body workers who helped me
focus on my imbalances. Try these TMJ exercises
to relax the pressure in your jaws and teeth. Try
toe-to-heel balancing while standing at the counter 
as a step toward better balance when walking.
Try this homeopathic remedy to open to the present.
Maybe this masseuse can get your energy flowing.
Take your time … 

Little by little …
I am breaking free of what is irrelevant.

One day I realized ... 
I do not want to carry forward the 20-year home where

-  I mourned my deceased daughter, 
-  wrote three books few persons have read,
-  created rarely viewed bodies of visual art,
-  struggled with mistreatment for my hip pain,
-  had to find my own reliable bone biopsy doctor,
-  underwent weeks of exhaustion from radiation,
-  suffered months of passing out due to medications,
-  finally receiving a pacemaker, all while
-  unsupported in confronting a MAGA tormentor.

Little by little …
I am breaking free.

The signs were there in 2016 when

my once democratic country of origin

was captured by Russian disinformation.

Only now that the destruction caused by

an out-of-control oil-based global economy 

is obvious to even head-in-the-sanders

facing high gas and grocery prices,

NOW there is an opening for innovation.

May I be a source and a supporter of innovation.

THE MYTHIC MONTH OF JULY 2026

In the Year of the Fire Horse,
July was depicted as a change of power.
And so it was …

Collapse of World Order
A once benevolent United States 
left the global stage 
like an unwelcome stray dog
its drooping tail between hind legs.

The nation’s well-meaning citizens, 
having ignored the commons
in pursuit of personal security and comfort,
were surprised to discover that 
those who upkeep the lawns, 
harvest veggies from the farms,
and care for the sick and aging,
had listened on their precious cell phones
to the enticing siren call of 
a supposedly successful real estate broker
promising lower food and gasoline prices -
on Day One of his presidency.

When the reality of a corrupt, cruel, deranged idiot,
bereft of common sense registered, it dawned
that climbing out of shattered norms and
structures would be steep and perilous.
Nevertheless, small groups of concerned citizens,
fired government servants, and not-for-profit organizations
spoke up, overcame lethargy, and undertook 
the task of rebuilding the once-neglected commons.

No Kings marches morphed into people rejecting
Energy-hoarding data centers and federal overreach.
Resistance to ICE raids led to supportive bonds between 
cultural groups committed to being good neighbors.

And just in time, as Gaia released fire everywhere. 
By the time the reality of global warming hit home
Solar energy had become cheaper than coal, oil, or gas.
Growing food and grazing animals under solar arrays
Introduced Agrivoltaics, a win for small and large farmers.
Beyond fantasy, Don Quixote windmills became powerful. 

OPENING TO THE FUTURE

Letting Go

In the first part of June a friend helped me give away six of the trees from the tree nursery I started at my former home. Even as I knew they needed to move from pots into the ground, it was still gut wrenching. These were my babies! As wee sprouts, I had rescued them from oblivion, given them a home, watered and fussed over them. 

I spent a couple of days feeling empty and forlorn.But it turns out that giving away these now solid young trees would be the last time I would grieve for my former home of 20 years.

Finding space for the New

For several days I contemplated the empty spaces left on my two decks. I began to see how the Buddha that graces my east-facing deck could be moved into a more central location where it could be seen from several views. And if I moved a couple of younger trees to the back deck there would be space for my three potted Hydrangeas on the shady side of the deck, a move that would allow them to flourish. 

There was still space for two of my youngest most fragile trees: a pink Korean Dogwood gifted to me for taking care of someone else’s lilies and a baby I had rescued from a negligent neighbor when I saw that it was stunted from lack of water. A few faithful geraniums would add some color.

Opening to the Future

I gathered my remaining eight trees on the back west-facing deck, grouping them into a grove that would protect my living room from intense afternoon heat. 

As I began enjoying my two new and enlivened spaces, I realized that my transition from homeowner to aging renter was over. During my twenty years in my former home I had grieved over the death of my daughter and participated in helping my grandchildren grow into amazing college-educated adults. 

Now one grandchild is a businesswoman, yoga teacher and mother with a baby – making me a great-grandmother. The other has a Ph.D. in neuroscience and has launched a professional career in research and teaching. 

All of this means I am launched into a wide-open future. What and who will I become?

Dogwood Blossoms

 LOVING TREES

Watching from my baby carriage 

Sunlight flitting across wiggly leaves above me. 

Shuffling in autumn’s falling leaves.

Resting under a Mango tree 

On a hillside in rural India.

Loving trees …

Rescuing tiny Pine shoots in Victoria BC.

Planting Arbor Society’s free trees 

At my condo in Eugene Oregon.

Capturing and propagating Maple starts

In my Marquis front yard.

Loving trees …

Beyond watering and nourishing

These awesome friends of nature, 

Each life change becomes 

A new twig or branch 

On the tree of my own life. 

Gifted Honeysuckle 

A New Branch

After over thirty-six years of living from village to village around the world, at age 63, I bought my only home – a condo in Eugene, Oregon. Immediately I started planting trees and creating a tree nursery. 

Crepemyrtle

Three years ago, when I sold my home of twenty years, I left behind two Dogwoods, a Quince, and a Lilac bush. I gave away potted Honeysuckle and Jasmine.

Dogwood beside Hydrangeas

My life as a homeowner ended. 

Lilac Bush

Two audacious movers transferred my hefty potted Japanese Maple, an Arborvitae, a Crepe Mrytle, three Jasmine plants, a Honeysuckle, peony and hydrangea bushes and numerous baby Maples to the driveway of a rented one-bedroom cottage.

Crepemyrtle, Arborvitae, Growing Maples

Painfully, in fits and starts, a new life branch was grafted on the trunk of my life tree. I replanted the Jasmine, honeysuckle, peony, hydrangeas and flowers in the planter of the cottage. 

Baby Pines

My tree nursery increased as I captured numerous new starts of Maple and pine from the surrounding area. My potted trees flourished.

(To be continued)