Monday, December 8, 2014
Free to Roam
Today I sat with an adult cello student who has been challenged with rhythmic accuracy. Most of her lesson was spent teaching her a different way to listen and respond to what she heard coming from her instrument while practicing during the days between her lessons. She has been grasping one layer at a time and today she was going into the next level of this skill, so to master the levels of complexity that lead to performing her current piece correctly, as the composer intended it.
Although I am a big advocate of personal expression when performing a piece of music, when it comes to the basic building blocks of putting the technical parts of music and cello playing together, I am pretty detailed and I hold my students to it. I know that the better command one has of ALL FACETS of their technique, the quicker they'll learn, the more independent they'll be as a player, and the more fun they'll have in the experience of their musical adventure.
Today, Kristal's challenge was in opening up her listening ability so she'd be able to identify on her own what the inaccuracies were, then identify what the appropriate correction was. Once that ability was available to her, all she needed to do was to make the correction and she could move forward more quickly. We had been moving very slowly through her current piece of music and seemed to be stuck in getting her through a certain section of the music.
Since Kristal is one who's very interested in her own personal growth as it applies to the cello, today offered a fantastic lesson for her. 2/3 of the way through her lesson, we discovered that the reason she avoided naming the specifics of why she was continually making the same mistake was because to name the specifics required her to judge herself. (At least that's how she had it wired up prior to today.)
When I realized this, I sat back, took a breath and said, "I teach all ages. The thing that holds my adult students back more than any other thing is their relentless judgment of themselves." With the cage of judgment continually binding you, how freely can you move forward?" I immediately told her a story of an 8 yr. old student I taught in Salt Lake City several years ago. Rachel had only been studying with me for a few months. In the lesson, she made a mistake that we'd talked about before as well as how to correct it. I stopped her at the place of her mistake. "Guess what just happened," said I. She already knew what it was and with laughing eyes and a cute gesture of her hand covering her smiling mouth, said "Oops!". All this was done without a sliver of judgment from either of us. She immediately corrected without the baggage of judgment and went on to pass the song off immediately.
So much of creativity is suffocated by the bounds of our heart and ego. When we can dissolve those barriers, we emerge as emancipated beings. In the wildness of our pristine and undefiled creativity, we are free to roam.
In the book, "When Things Fall Apart", Pema Chodron states:
"Getting the knack of catching ourselves, of gently and compassionately catching ourselves, is the path of the spiritual warrior...So the challenge is how to develop compassion right along with clear seeing, how to train in lightening up and cheering up rather than becoming more guilt-ridden and miserable....Honesty without kindness, good humor and good-heartedness can be just mean. From the very beginning to the very end, pointing to our own hearts to discover what is true isn't just a matter of honesty, but also of compassion and respect for what we see."
Navigating through our lives with compassion for our humanity is a different way to move forward...and it can't be done overnight. One day at a time-- one mistake and correction at a time weaves an entirely new tapestry and foundation to transform not only the person making the mistake, but everyone in their sphere of influence.
Saturday, August 9, 2014
Filling the Well
"There are different wells within your heart.
Some fill with each good rain,
Others are far too deep for that.
In one well
You have just a few precious cups of water,
That “love” is literally something of yourself,
It can grow as slow as a diamond
If it is lost.
Your love
Should never be offered to the mouth of a
Stranger,
Only to someone
Who has the valor and daring
To cut pieces of their soul off with a knife
Then weave them into a blanket
To protect you.
There are different wells within us.
Some fill with each good rain,
Others are far, far too deep
For that."
-- Hafiz
I was out walking out under a beautiful moon and radiant stars last night-- one of those nights when the high, juicy, vibrant energy of a warm summer evening
is SO delicious, you could scoop it out of the sky and eat it with a spoon! The neighborhood was very quiet and it seemed that the earth I walked on was an
open, sleeping, breathing being. The noises of the night filled the air. It was the kind of night where you can FEEL EVERYTHING growing. In the silence of
this lush summer symphony, my well was filled. I felt the voice from deep inside the well say "...I love you...". When that voice expresses those words, I
know some serious replenishment has happened!
Lots of unexpected chaotic energy and exhausting days this summer... I am FINALLY getting to start filling up what has been drained and dredged away in the
past couple of months of extreme activity.
Quiet moments do this for me: sitting by the creek in the afternoon, an afternoon at the spa, swimming in a spring fed pool or subterranean grotto, time with
a dear friend, a walk among alpine wildflowers......
This post is to remind ANYONE who has forgotten to STOP long enough to fill that precious well of yours ( in the ways you know will fill it) TO DO IT NOW.
Your world and your people need the AUTHENTIC YOU that this replenishment brings. But more importantly, YOU DESERVE to be running the kind of energy that
being finely replenished brings. The stuff that you worry and are concerned about can wait, dear ones. Fill yourselves today, or very very soon. You will
be glad you did.
Thursday, November 28, 2013
GRACE
How many of us feel, in some way, that we are currently behind the curve of what we could be doing/experiencing/having in life right now? How many of us feel just plain buried by life? The feeling is like this: it's coming so thick and fast that we're sure we'll never be able to come up for air as we ride a devouring,out-of control flood and will be drowned...right? This feeling is commonplace, especially with how fast life is taking many of us. With the huge amount of change happening in multiple areas of our lives, it's easy to feel like we're chasing after a bullet train without enough steam inside us to catch up with it. Overwhelm sets in,often creating it's own tangents: frustration, feeling not good enough, fast enough, smart enough or conscious enough to be equal to the task of the life that's in front of us.
Today was no different for me: lots of dynamic change going on in my life, great opportunities and openings. I've been feeling like it's harvest time, the fruit is dead ripe on the tree and there's so much available that I can't possibly deal with gathering it in properly. So once again, I'm missing the proverbial boat.
Thank god for the twists in the path that offer moments of grace and perspective where we see very clearly 1)how far we've actually come, 2)who we really are, 3)why we're here 4) that we haven't missed the boat and 4) yes, believe it or not, we're right on time.
The twist today: Company that was supposed to be here for Thanksgiving had a last minute flight snafu, providing the entire day to do something other than cram every blessed moment of the day into activity: preparing the house, the food and being with loved ones nonstop. This unexpectedly relaxed day allowed me to be in a place near sunset where I could take in the last rays of the setting sun in as I have done for months in my sun gazing practice. It's been a recent addition to my spiritual practice with benefits like: getting my body synced up w/ circadian rhythm to assist my adrenals to heal, grounding me AND giving me huge spiritual insights to my life. Those first or last few minutes of the day that I spend with my bare feet on the earth(yes, even in winter) gazing at the sun have truly changed my life.
As I completed my 5 minute gaze today with palms facing the sun, a voice said, "You think you're missing it, but in fact every moment of the last 8 years has prepared you for what's about to come next. You are perfectly in position for what's right around the corner and you're right on time." What surprised me most about this information is that I felt this message down to my bones; down to the soles of my feet and the bottom of my gut. I felt it in my BODY....and I know my body doesn't lie.
I scanned quickly over the past almost 8 years since I moved to Colorado, reviewing the ups and downs, the seeming mistakes, detours and places where I've just plain held back. None of it seemed to matter anymore. The information I received in this moment today told me that none of the assessments and judgements I have had of myself mattered in relation to what awaited me around the bend. So, even as I was stumbling and seemingly fumbling around in the dark, in the desolation of an apparent desert-- the journey in its entirety, the good, bad and ugly-- ultimately brought me to this place.
I don't have a brilliant ending to this post today. It's been a long time since I posted and I'm hoping to bring more consistent offerings to this page on a regular basis. Today, all I can say is: If you're reading this and it applies to you, PERSEVERE. Trust your guidance. Continue putting one foot in front of the other,even if it feels like you're walking in the dark of night. KEEP BREATHING...AND TRUST.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
RELEASE
As I write this, our geographic area in Colorado is in the middle of it's first winter storm watch/warning of the season. A beautiful, colorful, balmy fall day yesterday turned into clouds, cold winds and rain today-- which have turned into snow. Currently, it's 32 degrees outside and the temperature is dropping. 6-10 inches of snow is expected by tomorrow night. The high day after tomorrow will be 31 degrees!
Cycles of change can often come and move faster than we are willing to let them. This year is no exception for me. It seemed spring, summer and early fall have all passed in just a few meager weeks. The river of time seems to be whizzing past with the current carrying the rafter (me) at lightening speed! I found myself wholeheartedly resisting the change in temperature and weather today that will surely put an end to my garden and the beautiful fall colors, turning everything into a dead, dry, cold landscape.
Fall is the season when all of nature sheds what is not needed for the winter months ahead. Leaves turn and fall from trees, produce is harvested off vines and that which is not needed is decomposed and returns to the earth to be future nourishment for the seeds of the next cycle of growth. All of nature seems to strip down to the bare essentials, powers down, slows down. There is no resistance, but a flow from one season to the next-- even if it is abrupt.
Why is it we humans, in our self- importance, think we are any different from our natural world? How is it that we have cut ourselves off or away from our own cycles so we cannot recognize the health of loss and transition? We even have our moon in the night sky to remind us that for a couple of days in the month, it whittles itself down to nothing, only to wax again to complete fullness.
As we look at cycles of change, the same thing happens in any cycle of transition: certain things must be released in order for space to be cleared and opened for new creation, abundance and growth. Many times, this clearing may come in the form of circumstances or perceived losses that we feel inappropriate, uncomfortable or downright heartbreaking. However, in the perfection of our existence on Earth, we have living examples and metaphors around us to serve as reminders of our own perfection in cycles of birth, growth, death and transformation to new life.
To ease through transitions more gracefully it's often a wise move to receive the care of a support group, a trusted coach, body worker, healer or other professional who can lighten the load and provide perspective and insight. Then, what once may have been painful and confusing can become a source of wisdom and experience...even a valued reference point on a compass in the rapidly shifting and changing river of these remarkable times.
Cycles of change can often come and move faster than we are willing to let them. This year is no exception for me. It seemed spring, summer and early fall have all passed in just a few meager weeks. The river of time seems to be whizzing past with the current carrying the rafter (me) at lightening speed! I found myself wholeheartedly resisting the change in temperature and weather today that will surely put an end to my garden and the beautiful fall colors, turning everything into a dead, dry, cold landscape.
Fall is the season when all of nature sheds what is not needed for the winter months ahead. Leaves turn and fall from trees, produce is harvested off vines and that which is not needed is decomposed and returns to the earth to be future nourishment for the seeds of the next cycle of growth. All of nature seems to strip down to the bare essentials, powers down, slows down. There is no resistance, but a flow from one season to the next-- even if it is abrupt.
Why is it we humans, in our self- importance, think we are any different from our natural world? How is it that we have cut ourselves off or away from our own cycles so we cannot recognize the health of loss and transition? We even have our moon in the night sky to remind us that for a couple of days in the month, it whittles itself down to nothing, only to wax again to complete fullness.
As we look at cycles of change, the same thing happens in any cycle of transition: certain things must be released in order for space to be cleared and opened for new creation, abundance and growth. Many times, this clearing may come in the form of circumstances or perceived losses that we feel inappropriate, uncomfortable or downright heartbreaking. However, in the perfection of our existence on Earth, we have living examples and metaphors around us to serve as reminders of our own perfection in cycles of birth, growth, death and transformation to new life.
To ease through transitions more gracefully it's often a wise move to receive the care of a support group, a trusted coach, body worker, healer or other professional who can lighten the load and provide perspective and insight. Then, what once may have been painful and confusing can become a source of wisdom and experience...even a valued reference point on a compass in the rapidly shifting and changing river of these remarkable times.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
The Fifth Season: FULLNESS
Five months ago I made a decision based on an urgent physical condition...a decision that has changed my life and has taken it in a new direction.
It seemed that the initial move into Five Element Acupuncture was the necessary step to handle quite a few physical issues that I'd been procrastinating on treating. Finally, the pain and debilitating range of motion in my right arm that kept me from sleeping at night AND playing my instruments (violin, viola, cello) as a music teacher and performer was the final wake up call: I HAD to do something, or lose my career.
My holistic/allopathic physician referred me to an orthopedist, who, after an MRI, diagnosed me not only with a bad case of tendonitis but a rotator cuff tear as well. I was referred to physical therapy for a trial period: If it didn't resolve the pain, surgery would be required.
I dove into physical therapy and Five Element Acupuncture as I felt they were complimentary. My insurance didn't cover the acupuncture but I didn't care. I felt the latter would tackle other issues not resolved by allopathic medicine and this acupuncturist came with glowing recommendations from someone I trusted who is very picky about her health practitioners.
My acupuncturist began by educating me (the novice) about the modality. She said:
"Traditionally Classical acupuncture was used as a preventative medicine to stay well and feel better inside of yourself before more serious conditions arose. The fact that it is still being used today after 3000 years is testament to its effectiveness and to the principles and laws of nature on which it is based. It's well known for pain relief and is beneficial for any physical, mental or emotional concern.
Classical Five Element Acupuncture is a distinctive and powerful form of healing based on the principles of nature. It looks to the Five Elements - Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal and Water - which are inherent in all living things, to determine where an imbalance lies within an individual. Symptoms are viewed as distress signals, which indicate a deeper imbalance. Five Element acupuncture addresses the symptoms by treating the root cause of the imbalance, which provides for longer lasting results and helps prevent the recurrence of illness.
Chinese medicine recognizes that there is a vital energy in the body called Chi, which influences the workings of every element, organ and system. This Chi energy must flow freely and smoothly within the body in the proper strength and quality in order for the body to function in a correct healthy balance.
I remember my first acupuncture session vividly: Tracey had just pulled the 1st set of needles out of my back. "How do you feel-- what are you noticing?" In Five Element, she'd been trained to stay with her clients, monitoring their pulses and energy shifts throughout each session. She never left the room as modern acupuncturists will do.
The hair-slender needles were no issue for me. There were a few pricks, but nothing intrusively bothersome. But what I DID notice was a rush of nonverbal information that filled not only my body but my awareness. I burst into tears. The first words out of my mouth were:
"Where......have I been?"
It was as if there was a large, lost part of me that had dropped back inside my present body, heart and soul. I truthfully couldn't remember the last time I felt as strong and authentic a presence of myself as I did in that moment. AND IT LASTED-- throughout the week until the next session. This was the part of myself that was grounded, decisive and open --yet strong. This authentic part told the truth and stood physically grounded at all times with her strong legs and feet solidly connected to the earth like tree trunks. She was totally in her body and a gentle warrior.
As the weeks stretched into months, I had more dramatic experiences as a result of my commitment to see myself through the acupuncture treatments...and I knew my life had transitioned into a big shift. It was like going over a huge waterfall in slow motion. The opening of authenticity I had in my first session grew and started weaving itself into my daily walk, minute by minute, hour by hour. I felt like a pioneer, constantly on the edge of discovering a new, untapped wilderness within myself with more revelations each week. By the beginning of May, a strong, consistent flow of energy from my root chakra astounded me with a more powerful, vibrant, alive, passionate energy than I'd ever experienced. As per my shamanic and other training, I knew this energy could heal myself and others if properly cultivated and used in a good way.
One day in early June, a heavy thunderstorm broke during the middle of my session in Tracey's office, which was situated on the 4th and highest floor of the building. Thunder was crackling overhead and my mind was a little freaked. It was sure the electric energy rushing through my body would act as a lightening rod and attract a powerful bolt right through the roof. But my body, lying face up on the table, totally exposed with needles in it, was perfectly calm. My body felt like the literal eye of the storm around us. ( As a healer, I've facilitated experiences where everyone in the room around me was bursting with healing release as a flash flood does-- a catapulting, cleansing chaos moving down a canyon after a hard rain. Holding space for these healing miracles, I am the calm inside this tremendous vortex of energy.) It was as if all nature was giving me a clue of what was in store, just around the bend.
A couple of weeks later in a session,I felt a strong psychic bridge form itself between the place in me which received visions of my life work-- AND the means to bring those visions into physical reality. It was the beginning of Tracey's feedback telling me "Your pulses are full today. Let's monitor them to see how long they last." A full pulse that isn't pushed indicates an authentic sourcing of energy from the body. What music to my ears THAT was, especially after battling Phase 2 adrenal burnout for over 3 years!
In a subsequent session I learned that underlying the Five Elements of this practice are the five seasons the Chinese look to in their year: Fall, Winter, Spring, Summer and....Late Summer. This fifth season is the time of year that's found at the tail end of summer. It's the time we're in now. Most of us will recognize this season as the time of Harvest - representing the earth's bountiful fruits and vegetables that are ripe and ready to be harvested. It represents "Fullness": the last of the golden summer days of summer heat, dead ripe fruit hanging on the vine, the last remnants of summer green tuning into a tired green before the trees plunge into autumn color and begin to shed their leaves as Fall comes on. Nights are deep and sultry, meteors careen across the sky and the immense potency of summer energy couldn't be any bigger, stuffed into a 24 hr. day. The Fifth Season doesn't last as long as others, especially in the Rockies. Sometimes it will only last a couple of weeks before the energetic tables tip the land into Autumn.
The day before Tracey talked to me about the 5 seasons, I was having a conversation with my tantric mentor about relationship. "The goal", he said, "is to keep yourself in a place of fullness. Fullness of heart and spirit and physical health-- so you never feel the need to source yourself on any level through another person."
Isn't this what healthy relationship is all about? From the place of depletion and scarcity(thus fear)all power struggles arise. From fullness on all levels one moves forward from choice.
In the fullness of Late Summer, I experienced my 2nd and most powerful kundalini experience ever --as I embarked on my present concurrent path of training as a Pranic Energy Healer. It opened the door to a higher level of authenticity and totally blew me away with it's alchemy and power.
After viewing a Facebook link posted by one of my friends in Idaho, I decided to investigate Pranic Healing. It's a practice that fuses both ancient Tibetan and Indian practices long held as secrets to wellness and longevity. Ancient texts and illustrations showing breathing techniques, proper hand motions and body positions have been practiced for thousands of years, yet not accessible to most people, even from the nations they were cultivated in. Not until a few decades ago.
I've observed energy work as a component of physical, emotional and mental health for a while, but never was impressed with reported results as I was with this particular mode. I observed that it's similar to acupuncture but without needles and touch. I made the move to check it out, registering for 2 complimentary evenings and a full Level 1 seminar.
I was totally ripe for a new shift. My commitment and resulting benefits from Five Element Acupuncture had prepared me by opening up a stream of energy available to me that I'd never experienced.
The 2 evenings taught me several kinds of breathing which, when done properly were better than caffeine! I tried them out a number of times, especially when my body was low on sleep and observed that I was alert, energetic, focused yet relaxed for up to 8 hours.
The Level 1 weekend came and I was there with bells on. Psychic self defense, building energy with breath and movement, holding precious chi energy without letting it be drained off, as well as cleansing and channeling energy in the body were taught and practiced. During a cleansing exercise with a partner, a sensation in my solar plexus catalyzed an observation I made to Master Co. A while later, he called me up in front of the class(willing subjects were class demonsrations the entire weekend) to clear what was left of some remaining energy in my solar plexus. I was not prepared for happened next, but did not resist.
Very long.
It was as if the Great Wall fell inside of me, releasing years if not decades of old, stubborn energetic blocks.. As the wall crumbled, I felt a flood of emotion release, once guarded tightly within the blockade. Fortunately, the class had a lunch break right after my experience. I laid in the corner of the training room for most of the break, belly to the earth, releasing what seemed like eons of pain and sadness.
After this release, I noticed my entire being fragile without the Wall, processing the transition in energy for the rest of the afternoon. The old structure was gone, the new one yet to come. I treated myself gently and participated as I could.
Traveling slowly home that evening on I-270, I was higher than a kite but still feeling sensitive and vulnerable from my experiences that day. It seemed as if I was riding a river. I decided to turn on some music. Then what hit me seemed to come out of nowhere.
I first noticed my energy feeling fuller and brighter and larger than any other time in my entire life. I was totally relaxed as I moved down the freeway. I then felt the sensation of white fire erupting from my perineum chakra, shooting straight up my spine, encountering NO BLOCKS (finally!) and pouring out my crown chakra like fire from a rocket engine. My head was so full and hot, it felt like bursting (although no pain). It was as if I felt a wreath of white hot flames encircling my head. As I sat in the car, immersed in the river of fire, I was conscious of the fact that all the locked doors of my previous small life had just been blown out of my old structure. I was now free to venture into a totally new environment where I'd never gone before. There was a feeling deep in my gut that my life would never again be the same.
I had to pull over.
Cars, whizzing past-- I created an energetic cocoon for myself and sat, eyes closed for about 20 minutes. Then realizing I had to get home somehow, I asked my angels to take the car home. When I got home, I briefly shared my experience with my husband, then went to a very quiet place to just sit. Then to the bathtub with candles to soak, as the experience integrated into my cells. Then I slept peacefully, solidly, all night
A week later I notice a clear, positive shift in relationship. I am sleeping well at night, I'm cleaning out on a physical level everything in my surroundings (from inner cleansing to outer clean out) and noticing much more subtle energy moving around me. I can even see auras from time to time. I move with clarity, focus, deciveness and carry an inner peace inside.
It's been an extraordinary 5 months that have accelerated (and continue to accelerate)the entire time, bringing me to an increase in physical health, improved relationship, mental clarity and focus. I'm playing my instruments and swimming again and for the first time-- picked up my fire hoop today and gave it a spin. YESSS! I feel my spirit integrating into a new vibration.
It is fullness embodied.
It seemed that the initial move into Five Element Acupuncture was the necessary step to handle quite a few physical issues that I'd been procrastinating on treating. Finally, the pain and debilitating range of motion in my right arm that kept me from sleeping at night AND playing my instruments (violin, viola, cello) as a music teacher and performer was the final wake up call: I HAD to do something, or lose my career.
My holistic/allopathic physician referred me to an orthopedist, who, after an MRI, diagnosed me not only with a bad case of tendonitis but a rotator cuff tear as well. I was referred to physical therapy for a trial period: If it didn't resolve the pain, surgery would be required.
I dove into physical therapy and Five Element Acupuncture as I felt they were complimentary. My insurance didn't cover the acupuncture but I didn't care. I felt the latter would tackle other issues not resolved by allopathic medicine and this acupuncturist came with glowing recommendations from someone I trusted who is very picky about her health practitioners.
My acupuncturist began by educating me (the novice) about the modality. She said:
"Traditionally Classical acupuncture was used as a preventative medicine to stay well and feel better inside of yourself before more serious conditions arose. The fact that it is still being used today after 3000 years is testament to its effectiveness and to the principles and laws of nature on which it is based. It's well known for pain relief and is beneficial for any physical, mental or emotional concern.
Classical Five Element Acupuncture is a distinctive and powerful form of healing based on the principles of nature. It looks to the Five Elements - Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal and Water - which are inherent in all living things, to determine where an imbalance lies within an individual. Symptoms are viewed as distress signals, which indicate a deeper imbalance. Five Element acupuncture addresses the symptoms by treating the root cause of the imbalance, which provides for longer lasting results and helps prevent the recurrence of illness.
Chinese medicine recognizes that there is a vital energy in the body called Chi, which influences the workings of every element, organ and system. This Chi energy must flow freely and smoothly within the body in the proper strength and quality in order for the body to function in a correct healthy balance.
I remember my first acupuncture session vividly: Tracey had just pulled the 1st set of needles out of my back. "How do you feel-- what are you noticing?" In Five Element, she'd been trained to stay with her clients, monitoring their pulses and energy shifts throughout each session. She never left the room as modern acupuncturists will do.
The hair-slender needles were no issue for me. There were a few pricks, but nothing intrusively bothersome. But what I DID notice was a rush of nonverbal information that filled not only my body but my awareness. I burst into tears. The first words out of my mouth were:
"Where......have I been?"
It was as if there was a large, lost part of me that had dropped back inside my present body, heart and soul. I truthfully couldn't remember the last time I felt as strong and authentic a presence of myself as I did in that moment. AND IT LASTED-- throughout the week until the next session. This was the part of myself that was grounded, decisive and open --yet strong. This authentic part told the truth and stood physically grounded at all times with her strong legs and feet solidly connected to the earth like tree trunks. She was totally in her body and a gentle warrior.
As the weeks stretched into months, I had more dramatic experiences as a result of my commitment to see myself through the acupuncture treatments...and I knew my life had transitioned into a big shift. It was like going over a huge waterfall in slow motion. The opening of authenticity I had in my first session grew and started weaving itself into my daily walk, minute by minute, hour by hour. I felt like a pioneer, constantly on the edge of discovering a new, untapped wilderness within myself with more revelations each week. By the beginning of May, a strong, consistent flow of energy from my root chakra astounded me with a more powerful, vibrant, alive, passionate energy than I'd ever experienced. As per my shamanic and other training, I knew this energy could heal myself and others if properly cultivated and used in a good way.
One day in early June, a heavy thunderstorm broke during the middle of my session in Tracey's office, which was situated on the 4th and highest floor of the building. Thunder was crackling overhead and my mind was a little freaked. It was sure the electric energy rushing through my body would act as a lightening rod and attract a powerful bolt right through the roof. But my body, lying face up on the table, totally exposed with needles in it, was perfectly calm. My body felt like the literal eye of the storm around us. ( As a healer, I've facilitated experiences where everyone in the room around me was bursting with healing release as a flash flood does-- a catapulting, cleansing chaos moving down a canyon after a hard rain. Holding space for these healing miracles, I am the calm inside this tremendous vortex of energy.) It was as if all nature was giving me a clue of what was in store, just around the bend.
A couple of weeks later in a session,I felt a strong psychic bridge form itself between the place in me which received visions of my life work-- AND the means to bring those visions into physical reality. It was the beginning of Tracey's feedback telling me "Your pulses are full today. Let's monitor them to see how long they last." A full pulse that isn't pushed indicates an authentic sourcing of energy from the body. What music to my ears THAT was, especially after battling Phase 2 adrenal burnout for over 3 years!
In a subsequent session I learned that underlying the Five Elements of this practice are the five seasons the Chinese look to in their year: Fall, Winter, Spring, Summer and....Late Summer. This fifth season is the time of year that's found at the tail end of summer. It's the time we're in now. Most of us will recognize this season as the time of Harvest - representing the earth's bountiful fruits and vegetables that are ripe and ready to be harvested. It represents "Fullness": the last of the golden summer days of summer heat, dead ripe fruit hanging on the vine, the last remnants of summer green tuning into a tired green before the trees plunge into autumn color and begin to shed their leaves as Fall comes on. Nights are deep and sultry, meteors careen across the sky and the immense potency of summer energy couldn't be any bigger, stuffed into a 24 hr. day. The Fifth Season doesn't last as long as others, especially in the Rockies. Sometimes it will only last a couple of weeks before the energetic tables tip the land into Autumn.
The day before Tracey talked to me about the 5 seasons, I was having a conversation with my tantric mentor about relationship. "The goal", he said, "is to keep yourself in a place of fullness. Fullness of heart and spirit and physical health-- so you never feel the need to source yourself on any level through another person."
Isn't this what healthy relationship is all about? From the place of depletion and scarcity(thus fear)all power struggles arise. From fullness on all levels one moves forward from choice.
In the fullness of Late Summer, I experienced my 2nd and most powerful kundalini experience ever --as I embarked on my present concurrent path of training as a Pranic Energy Healer. It opened the door to a higher level of authenticity and totally blew me away with it's alchemy and power.
After viewing a Facebook link posted by one of my friends in Idaho, I decided to investigate Pranic Healing. It's a practice that fuses both ancient Tibetan and Indian practices long held as secrets to wellness and longevity. Ancient texts and illustrations showing breathing techniques, proper hand motions and body positions have been practiced for thousands of years, yet not accessible to most people, even from the nations they were cultivated in. Not until a few decades ago.
I've observed energy work as a component of physical, emotional and mental health for a while, but never was impressed with reported results as I was with this particular mode. I observed that it's similar to acupuncture but without needles and touch. I made the move to check it out, registering for 2 complimentary evenings and a full Level 1 seminar.
I was totally ripe for a new shift. My commitment and resulting benefits from Five Element Acupuncture had prepared me by opening up a stream of energy available to me that I'd never experienced.
The 2 evenings taught me several kinds of breathing which, when done properly were better than caffeine! I tried them out a number of times, especially when my body was low on sleep and observed that I was alert, energetic, focused yet relaxed for up to 8 hours.
The Level 1 weekend came and I was there with bells on. Psychic self defense, building energy with breath and movement, holding precious chi energy without letting it be drained off, as well as cleansing and channeling energy in the body were taught and practiced. During a cleansing exercise with a partner, a sensation in my solar plexus catalyzed an observation I made to Master Co. A while later, he called me up in front of the class(willing subjects were class demonsrations the entire weekend) to clear what was left of some remaining energy in my solar plexus. I was not prepared for happened next, but did not resist.
Very long.
It was as if the Great Wall fell inside of me, releasing years if not decades of old, stubborn energetic blocks.. As the wall crumbled, I felt a flood of emotion release, once guarded tightly within the blockade. Fortunately, the class had a lunch break right after my experience. I laid in the corner of the training room for most of the break, belly to the earth, releasing what seemed like eons of pain and sadness.
After this release, I noticed my entire being fragile without the Wall, processing the transition in energy for the rest of the afternoon. The old structure was gone, the new one yet to come. I treated myself gently and participated as I could.
Traveling slowly home that evening on I-270, I was higher than a kite but still feeling sensitive and vulnerable from my experiences that day. It seemed as if I was riding a river. I decided to turn on some music. Then what hit me seemed to come out of nowhere.
I first noticed my energy feeling fuller and brighter and larger than any other time in my entire life. I was totally relaxed as I moved down the freeway. I then felt the sensation of white fire erupting from my perineum chakra, shooting straight up my spine, encountering NO BLOCKS (finally!) and pouring out my crown chakra like fire from a rocket engine. My head was so full and hot, it felt like bursting (although no pain). It was as if I felt a wreath of white hot flames encircling my head. As I sat in the car, immersed in the river of fire, I was conscious of the fact that all the locked doors of my previous small life had just been blown out of my old structure. I was now free to venture into a totally new environment where I'd never gone before. There was a feeling deep in my gut that my life would never again be the same.
I had to pull over.
Cars, whizzing past-- I created an energetic cocoon for myself and sat, eyes closed for about 20 minutes. Then realizing I had to get home somehow, I asked my angels to take the car home. When I got home, I briefly shared my experience with my husband, then went to a very quiet place to just sit. Then to the bathtub with candles to soak, as the experience integrated into my cells. Then I slept peacefully, solidly, all night
A week later I notice a clear, positive shift in relationship. I am sleeping well at night, I'm cleaning out on a physical level everything in my surroundings (from inner cleansing to outer clean out) and noticing much more subtle energy moving around me. I can even see auras from time to time. I move with clarity, focus, deciveness and carry an inner peace inside.
It's been an extraordinary 5 months that have accelerated (and continue to accelerate)the entire time, bringing me to an increase in physical health, improved relationship, mental clarity and focus. I'm playing my instruments and swimming again and for the first time-- picked up my fire hoop today and gave it a spin. YESSS! I feel my spirit integrating into a new vibration.
It is fullness embodied.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Pink Rain
Monsoon season in Colorado-- July is not like all the other midsummer years I've seen here. Usually by this time, all the green has become brown, the heat is set in, clouds and are rain sparse and the land becomes a tinder box: volumnous, brown and dry. I usually hide inside to avoid the scorching, unrelenting heat and landscape. Folks who've been here longer than I say that "now it's beginning to look like it used to."
Since the change in the weather and landscape, I've created an evening ritual the last few weeks: I don clothing that covers me against the mosquitos, spray on a green cloud of natural insect repellent and head out to the backyard to spend time with the sky and my garden.
I've been invited outside many an evening by the immensity of changing color and shapes above that these last moments of the day bring. As I walk out the sliding glass door onto the deck, I survey my gift and am delighted once more. Why is it I can sit and watch cloudscapes for hours as they metamorphose into all manner of hues and configurations....? The clouds tonight are gray with a luminous dripping pink-melon color, juicy and thick with droplets. Rain looks like it won't fall immediately, so I walk across the lush green lawn (made so by late afternoon downpours of the last few weeks) and plunk myself down in a corner of the garden, thick with weeds. From here I can focus on both the weeding AND enjoy the show.
This is my evening meditation: to sit on the earth, get it under my fingernails, find a rhythm with the pulling and coaxing of the weeds out of the soil, (trying not to be poked by the thistles I pull up), tossing them to the pile in back of me. Turn and repeat.
I am a sensualist, a tactile goddess. I love color, taste, oneness with the earth and living beings in my hands. Whether the contact is with my granddaughter's fingers wrapped around my pinky, a cat or dog's warm fur, green plants soon to bear fruit, the clearing of brush and trees on a ropes course or the long ago hewn and carved wood of my cello and bow under my fingers and embraced by my body, it all invites me into my essential self. This part of me drinks deeply and flourishes in the natural world. Tonight I am having a feast.
In "Desert Solitaire", Edward Abbey wrote:
"I am pleased enough with the surfaces - in fact they alone seem to me to be of much importance. Such things for example as the grasp of a child's hand in your own, the flavor of an apple, the embrace of a friend or lover, the silk of a girl's thigh, the sunlight on the rock and leaves, the feel of music, the bark of a tree, the abrasion of granite and sand, the plunge of clear water into a pool, the face of the wind - what else is there? What else do we need?"
I crunch a tender, raw green bean and savor its taste. Honestly, every mouthful I'm blessed with out of my garden tastes and feels like it has 100% more nutrition and energy than ANYTHING I could get anywhere else. I was surprised to find the bushes bearing already, a treasure amongst the weeds.
I look to the West. Just above the crest of a group of indigo-gray peaks, the clouds are fire in the sky. I look up. A pink cotton candy canopy is spreading quickly above me. Drops kiss my face. I have to look twice as they fall on my shoulders. The kid inside me is giggling, expecting pink clouds to produce pink rain-- OF COURSE. The adult knows better, smiles, continues the rhythm of the weeding meditation, leaving the child to revel in her fantasy.
The gentle rain continues....and we smile.
Finally the light is dying, the show ended for the evening. The color on the clouds resembles the last breath of fading embers on the hot past of a fire.
I bless the garden, tucking her in for the night as I bring her gifts-- and my fantasy-- inside.
Since the change in the weather and landscape, I've created an evening ritual the last few weeks: I don clothing that covers me against the mosquitos, spray on a green cloud of natural insect repellent and head out to the backyard to spend time with the sky and my garden.
I've been invited outside many an evening by the immensity of changing color and shapes above that these last moments of the day bring. As I walk out the sliding glass door onto the deck, I survey my gift and am delighted once more. Why is it I can sit and watch cloudscapes for hours as they metamorphose into all manner of hues and configurations....? The clouds tonight are gray with a luminous dripping pink-melon color, juicy and thick with droplets. Rain looks like it won't fall immediately, so I walk across the lush green lawn (made so by late afternoon downpours of the last few weeks) and plunk myself down in a corner of the garden, thick with weeds. From here I can focus on both the weeding AND enjoy the show.
This is my evening meditation: to sit on the earth, get it under my fingernails, find a rhythm with the pulling and coaxing of the weeds out of the soil, (trying not to be poked by the thistles I pull up), tossing them to the pile in back of me. Turn and repeat.
I am a sensualist, a tactile goddess. I love color, taste, oneness with the earth and living beings in my hands. Whether the contact is with my granddaughter's fingers wrapped around my pinky, a cat or dog's warm fur, green plants soon to bear fruit, the clearing of brush and trees on a ropes course or the long ago hewn and carved wood of my cello and bow under my fingers and embraced by my body, it all invites me into my essential self. This part of me drinks deeply and flourishes in the natural world. Tonight I am having a feast.
In "Desert Solitaire", Edward Abbey wrote:
"I am pleased enough with the surfaces - in fact they alone seem to me to be of much importance. Such things for example as the grasp of a child's hand in your own, the flavor of an apple, the embrace of a friend or lover, the silk of a girl's thigh, the sunlight on the rock and leaves, the feel of music, the bark of a tree, the abrasion of granite and sand, the plunge of clear water into a pool, the face of the wind - what else is there? What else do we need?"
I crunch a tender, raw green bean and savor its taste. Honestly, every mouthful I'm blessed with out of my garden tastes and feels like it has 100% more nutrition and energy than ANYTHING I could get anywhere else. I was surprised to find the bushes bearing already, a treasure amongst the weeds.
I look to the West. Just above the crest of a group of indigo-gray peaks, the clouds are fire in the sky. I look up. A pink cotton candy canopy is spreading quickly above me. Drops kiss my face. I have to look twice as they fall on my shoulders. The kid inside me is giggling, expecting pink clouds to produce pink rain-- OF COURSE. The adult knows better, smiles, continues the rhythm of the weeding meditation, leaving the child to revel in her fantasy.
The gentle rain continues....and we smile.
Finally the light is dying, the show ended for the evening. The color on the clouds resembles the last breath of fading embers on the hot past of a fire.
I bless the garden, tucking her in for the night as I bring her gifts-- and my fantasy-- inside.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Road Trip Day 6: Childhood Roads
Back on the road this morning, giving my time in St. George a blessing after breakfast with my mother, I set out for California-- with a detour to Pine Valley, Utah, before I hopped back on the interstate.
Nestled in the tops of mountains @ 6,500 feet and just 32 mi. north of St. George, Pine Valley is a well-kept secret for vacationers and summer residents who like alpine beauty, small campgrounds and quiet small town appeal. It's temperature year round is about 20 degrees cooler than St. George. Mormons settled the valley in the late 1800's and built a church in 1868 which has been in continuous use since then. There are a few residents who stay year round, but the winters scare most sunbirds off. No schools or medical facilities exist, yet a small post office and general store general store have been there for decades. A cemetary, a restaurant and cafe added to that...and that's about it.
One of the earliest pictures of my father was of him as a 5 year old sporting over-alls and a straw hat in Pine Valley. His family would visit there during the summers. It was an all day trip for his family from St. George in a model T, filled with kids, provisions for several days and extra tires for the expected blowouts one would have enroute to and from the mountain paradise. When my dad grew older, hunting trips with all the males in the family brought food to their table. On occaision, my father would tell me that his memories of Pine Valley were what got him through the toughest times of the War; they were what kept him hanging in there when things were unusually grisly and bleak.
The road to Pine Valley climbs over 3,000 feet from St. George to its final destination. Redrock, sage and chaparral give way to several extinct volcanoes in Diamond Valley, progressing to cedars and lava flow in little town of Veyo, finally giving way to cedars, ponderosa and pinion pines with the metamorphic rock of the mountains that ring the valley. Signal Peak is the tallest of the Pine Valley Mountains at over 10,000 feet.
Enroute, I was surprised to find that much of what I experienced in my childhood had been built up in the last several years, both in roadway, new communities and homes. Hell, in some ways the road resembled a super highway compared to what I travelled in my childhood-- until I turned east at Central, UT for the last 8 miles. Here the road was well worn, as narrow as I ever remembered it to be, with cracks and small plants growing out of them.
"Now here's a road I remember", I thought as I breathed a sigh of relief.
Arriving in Pine Valley, I found it was a comfortable 75 degrees midday, green and even more beautiful than I had ever remembered it. Although there were new cabins built around the periphery of the town, the original homes were still there, folks were still taking care of their property and there were no cows grazing in the middle of town as they were when I was a child. My father had loved the peaceful, quiet energy of this place which was one of the reasons he retired here over 30 years ago, about the time I and my brother left for college.
I took a while to wind through the original town, stopping to look at 2 previous residences my parents had owned before selling them and moving to St. George just 6 months before my father's death. A few days earlier, my brother had mentioned that one of the several empty lots purchased by my father (actually owned now by my mother) would be just the right size for the 3 siblings to pull trailers on to in the summers and spend some vacation time there. He described the lot location to me as it had never been pointed out before. When I arrived there, I found it to be the same piece of ground I'd had recurring dreams about during the past year. I'd remember waking from the dreams thinking "Why am I dreaming about this part of town? Dad and Mom's property was north of this place." Now I know at the answer to at least the 1st part of my question. We'll see what follows.
I checked out old sledding runs, still intact, viewed the creek where my family pulled out 104 trout one summer and noted that the old ranger station had been turned into a visitor/history center. For old time's sake I stopped in at the General Store, bought an ice cream bar and continued up the Valley toward the resevoir where many memories were made with my family.
All too soon it was time to leave as I still had 6 hours to drive the desert to California, through Las Vegas and Death Valley. So I promised the Valley I would return, gave thanks and headed down the road.
I stopped at the Veyo Pie Shop, 1/2 way to I-15 to pick up a fresh, homemade peach pie for my daughter and her family in Cherry Valley, which was my final destination today. After giving a hug and a bottle of wine to my cousin Sharlene in St. George, I hopped on the interstate and headed toward the Virgin River Narrows, gateway to the Arizona Strip that I-15 crosses toward Vegas. The Narrows: from what I understand it cost $1000 a foot to complete in some places. Winding through spectacular rock and river, it's one of the most scenic pieces of highway in that region. I remember a story my dad told of taking our 1973 caddilac, setting the cruise control on 70 m.p.h. and "chirping the tires around the corners" going through the Narrows.
I stopped for gas in North Las Vegas and continued down the corridor that leads through the center of town and by the glittering Strip. I remember when my family travelled via rambler station wagon in the 60's on a road that went through the center of town, by the Frontier, Stardust and made a turn at a big pencil on the front of an office supply store on our way through and out of this town... LONG before the Interstate.
The desert was cooler today, only getting into the low 100's at the hottest. My Jeep did admirably, climbing thousands of feet up and down in the heat. The last climb was Cajon Pass in California, which descended into the Inland Empire. I-15 to I-215 to the 210 to the 10 to Cherry Valley. Warm hugs and little feet welcomed me to the home of my daughter, Ruthe and her family.
Nestled in the tops of mountains @ 6,500 feet and just 32 mi. north of St. George, Pine Valley is a well-kept secret for vacationers and summer residents who like alpine beauty, small campgrounds and quiet small town appeal. It's temperature year round is about 20 degrees cooler than St. George. Mormons settled the valley in the late 1800's and built a church in 1868 which has been in continuous use since then. There are a few residents who stay year round, but the winters scare most sunbirds off. No schools or medical facilities exist, yet a small post office and general store general store have been there for decades. A cemetary, a restaurant and cafe added to that...and that's about it.
One of the earliest pictures of my father was of him as a 5 year old sporting over-alls and a straw hat in Pine Valley. His family would visit there during the summers. It was an all day trip for his family from St. George in a model T, filled with kids, provisions for several days and extra tires for the expected blowouts one would have enroute to and from the mountain paradise. When my dad grew older, hunting trips with all the males in the family brought food to their table. On occaision, my father would tell me that his memories of Pine Valley were what got him through the toughest times of the War; they were what kept him hanging in there when things were unusually grisly and bleak.
The road to Pine Valley climbs over 3,000 feet from St. George to its final destination. Redrock, sage and chaparral give way to several extinct volcanoes in Diamond Valley, progressing to cedars and lava flow in little town of Veyo, finally giving way to cedars, ponderosa and pinion pines with the metamorphic rock of the mountains that ring the valley. Signal Peak is the tallest of the Pine Valley Mountains at over 10,000 feet.
Enroute, I was surprised to find that much of what I experienced in my childhood had been built up in the last several years, both in roadway, new communities and homes. Hell, in some ways the road resembled a super highway compared to what I travelled in my childhood-- until I turned east at Central, UT for the last 8 miles. Here the road was well worn, as narrow as I ever remembered it to be, with cracks and small plants growing out of them.
"Now here's a road I remember", I thought as I breathed a sigh of relief.
Arriving in Pine Valley, I found it was a comfortable 75 degrees midday, green and even more beautiful than I had ever remembered it. Although there were new cabins built around the periphery of the town, the original homes were still there, folks were still taking care of their property and there were no cows grazing in the middle of town as they were when I was a child. My father had loved the peaceful, quiet energy of this place which was one of the reasons he retired here over 30 years ago, about the time I and my brother left for college.
I took a while to wind through the original town, stopping to look at 2 previous residences my parents had owned before selling them and moving to St. George just 6 months before my father's death. A few days earlier, my brother had mentioned that one of the several empty lots purchased by my father (actually owned now by my mother) would be just the right size for the 3 siblings to pull trailers on to in the summers and spend some vacation time there. He described the lot location to me as it had never been pointed out before. When I arrived there, I found it to be the same piece of ground I'd had recurring dreams about during the past year. I'd remember waking from the dreams thinking "Why am I dreaming about this part of town? Dad and Mom's property was north of this place." Now I know at the answer to at least the 1st part of my question. We'll see what follows.
I checked out old sledding runs, still intact, viewed the creek where my family pulled out 104 trout one summer and noted that the old ranger station had been turned into a visitor/history center. For old time's sake I stopped in at the General Store, bought an ice cream bar and continued up the Valley toward the resevoir where many memories were made with my family.
All too soon it was time to leave as I still had 6 hours to drive the desert to California, through Las Vegas and Death Valley. So I promised the Valley I would return, gave thanks and headed down the road.
I stopped at the Veyo Pie Shop, 1/2 way to I-15 to pick up a fresh, homemade peach pie for my daughter and her family in Cherry Valley, which was my final destination today. After giving a hug and a bottle of wine to my cousin Sharlene in St. George, I hopped on the interstate and headed toward the Virgin River Narrows, gateway to the Arizona Strip that I-15 crosses toward Vegas. The Narrows: from what I understand it cost $1000 a foot to complete in some places. Winding through spectacular rock and river, it's one of the most scenic pieces of highway in that region. I remember a story my dad told of taking our 1973 caddilac, setting the cruise control on 70 m.p.h. and "chirping the tires around the corners" going through the Narrows.
I stopped for gas in North Las Vegas and continued down the corridor that leads through the center of town and by the glittering Strip. I remember when my family travelled via rambler station wagon in the 60's on a road that went through the center of town, by the Frontier, Stardust and made a turn at a big pencil on the front of an office supply store on our way through and out of this town... LONG before the Interstate.
The desert was cooler today, only getting into the low 100's at the hottest. My Jeep did admirably, climbing thousands of feet up and down in the heat. The last climb was Cajon Pass in California, which descended into the Inland Empire. I-15 to I-215 to the 210 to the 10 to Cherry Valley. Warm hugs and little feet welcomed me to the home of my daughter, Ruthe and her family.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Road Trip Day 5: In Her Lifetime
Love is an ocean without shores. You have to jump in, never to come back...This isn't a path for cautious people.
--K Singh
Today is my mother's 91st birthday. She's requested it to be a low key day, as lots of family was here over the weekend and we started celebrating early with that big dinner 2 days ago. The big event of the day is that Chick, a very sweet neighbor and mother's "beau" is taking her and what remains of the family out to dinner this evening.
The day was slow, allowing a leisurely swim in the late morning with her at the clubhouse, followed by a nap and down time for the rest of us.
I marvel at what my mother has seen in her 91 years. Born in 1919 and raised in New Harmony, Utah, my mother's family travelled by horse and was the first to have a car and a radio. She remembers when the first telephone came in with operators, party lines and the like. When she entered Jr. High her family moved to St. George, a larger town about an hour down the road so she could continue school, She met my father when she was 15 and married him when she was 22, just as he was leaving for World War II. Accompanied by her parents, she took a train cross country to Muskogee, Oklahoma and they were married by a justice of the peace before he deployed.
Without TV, all the communications she would get were letters that were weeks old and newsreels at least that old, shown in the local theater. She tells of a certain newsreel that came into town and my father was spotted in a section. All the folks that came that day wanted to see Evan Pickett again and that section of the reel was played several times before continuing on.
Gratefully, my father returned from Germany, Italy, Africa, the South Pacific, and Korea-- I was born 10 years after my sister, after 4 miscarriages during the time they were overseas. She outlived him and has outlived most of her friends, which in my book takes a lot of courage, especially if your're in pain and your health is declining.
Later, air and space travel came in with records, television, cassette and video tapes, CD's and DVDs ,after that. Then the internet, cell phones, ipods and all the other wonders of modern day communication.
Back to the birthday.
We all had a nice dinner, came home for cake and ice cream, but had to depart soon for my sister's motel room where a time and a computer had been set up to visit with my son in Iraq via live video camera on "Skype". It was 11 at night and with a 9 hour time difference, David had just gotten up the next day, half a world away. Mother adores all her grandchildren, but he is probably the closest to her of all of them as he had stayed with his grandma when he was completing the first part of his college education at Dixie State College in St. George, Utah. Although living with her can be tough, David did an admirable job. It's a time both of them will never forget.
The video signal was a little fuzzy, but we heard and saw my son loud and clear and he was able to talk to all of us, especially my mother, for about 20 minutes. She was absolutely overjoyed at the opportunity and was wired late into the night, long after the visit ended.
"Well, did that make your day?", I asked when we were walking back to the car.
"Oh, it made my WHOLE LIFE!", she responded. I think her day ended with the best gift yet.
I hope she's still with us when he comes home in 11 months. It would make HIS year away, if she is.
--K Singh
Today is my mother's 91st birthday. She's requested it to be a low key day, as lots of family was here over the weekend and we started celebrating early with that big dinner 2 days ago. The big event of the day is that Chick, a very sweet neighbor and mother's "beau" is taking her and what remains of the family out to dinner this evening.
The day was slow, allowing a leisurely swim in the late morning with her at the clubhouse, followed by a nap and down time for the rest of us.
I marvel at what my mother has seen in her 91 years. Born in 1919 and raised in New Harmony, Utah, my mother's family travelled by horse and was the first to have a car and a radio. She remembers when the first telephone came in with operators, party lines and the like. When she entered Jr. High her family moved to St. George, a larger town about an hour down the road so she could continue school, She met my father when she was 15 and married him when she was 22, just as he was leaving for World War II. Accompanied by her parents, she took a train cross country to Muskogee, Oklahoma and they were married by a justice of the peace before he deployed.
Without TV, all the communications she would get were letters that were weeks old and newsreels at least that old, shown in the local theater. She tells of a certain newsreel that came into town and my father was spotted in a section. All the folks that came that day wanted to see Evan Pickett again and that section of the reel was played several times before continuing on.
Gratefully, my father returned from Germany, Italy, Africa, the South Pacific, and Korea-- I was born 10 years after my sister, after 4 miscarriages during the time they were overseas. She outlived him and has outlived most of her friends, which in my book takes a lot of courage, especially if your're in pain and your health is declining.
Later, air and space travel came in with records, television, cassette and video tapes, CD's and DVDs ,after that. Then the internet, cell phones, ipods and all the other wonders of modern day communication.
Back to the birthday.
We all had a nice dinner, came home for cake and ice cream, but had to depart soon for my sister's motel room where a time and a computer had been set up to visit with my son in Iraq via live video camera on "Skype". It was 11 at night and with a 9 hour time difference, David had just gotten up the next day, half a world away. Mother adores all her grandchildren, but he is probably the closest to her of all of them as he had stayed with his grandma when he was completing the first part of his college education at Dixie State College in St. George, Utah. Although living with her can be tough, David did an admirable job. It's a time both of them will never forget.
The video signal was a little fuzzy, but we heard and saw my son loud and clear and he was able to talk to all of us, especially my mother, for about 20 minutes. She was absolutely overjoyed at the opportunity and was wired late into the night, long after the visit ended.
"Well, did that make your day?", I asked when we were walking back to the car.
"Oh, it made my WHOLE LIFE!", she responded. I think her day ended with the best gift yet.
I hope she's still with us when he comes home in 11 months. It would make HIS year away, if she is.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Road Trip Day 4: Daily Practice
I'm in St. George for 2 more days and will leave the morning after my mother's 91st birthday.
Today was one of those days when my daily spiritual practice of meditating, setting my intention and reading a conscious thought in the morning really paid off. From the get-go, NOTHING panned out as planned. (And I must say it's been like that for at least a month now.) It was one of those days when there are two choices when something doesn't go as planned: Either thrash around, tormenting yourself and those you love by your antics OR just keep breathing, letting old expectations go....and create something new.
So OF COURSE the daily reminder I read was about staying in the NOW.
Lots of experts in the field of personal empowerment and consciousness remind us constantly that the point of power is in the present moment. Why? Because it's the point from which all future creation springs. If I want the best possible outcome for anything, how I live right now is influencing it.
The assignment for today from the book "Effortless Prosperity Book II" by Bijan Anjomi: "Acknowledge all good things that you have."
Bijan goes on to say: "Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life and opens us to receive abundance from everywhere. It turns what we have turns into enough, and more. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow..."
This practice of staying in the present and creating something even better than we presently experience is further described n the A.A. Big Book
"when I stopped living in the problem and began living the answer, the problem went away....."
Letting go of my expectations, staying in the present and focusing on the good stuff really made a difference today. I'm ending my day by acknowledging the power and gift of a conscious daily practice that makes my life so much easier on all levels!
Today was one of those days when my daily spiritual practice of meditating, setting my intention and reading a conscious thought in the morning really paid off. From the get-go, NOTHING panned out as planned. (And I must say it's been like that for at least a month now.) It was one of those days when there are two choices when something doesn't go as planned: Either thrash around, tormenting yourself and those you love by your antics OR just keep breathing, letting old expectations go....and create something new.
So OF COURSE the daily reminder I read was about staying in the NOW.
Lots of experts in the field of personal empowerment and consciousness remind us constantly that the point of power is in the present moment. Why? Because it's the point from which all future creation springs. If I want the best possible outcome for anything, how I live right now is influencing it.
The assignment for today from the book "Effortless Prosperity Book II" by Bijan Anjomi: "Acknowledge all good things that you have."
Bijan goes on to say: "Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life and opens us to receive abundance from everywhere. It turns what we have turns into enough, and more. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow..."
This practice of staying in the present and creating something even better than we presently experience is further described n the A.A. Big Book
"when I stopped living in the problem and began living the answer, the problem went away....."
Letting go of my expectations, staying in the present and focusing on the good stuff really made a difference today. I'm ending my day by acknowledging the power and gift of a conscious daily practice that makes my life so much easier on all levels!
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Road Trip Day 3: Family
Finally! A day to chill out and be with family. (If "chillin" is possible in the 104 degree heat of the St. George red rocks....) Other than cooking a big birthday dinner with my sibs for my mother's 91st birthday, there was not much else to do. It was an opportunity to connect with Uncle Charlie's 2 children (both from different marriages), my cousins, Rick and Sharlene-- among the few invited dinner guests.
I have gratitude for growing up with cousins who I count as precious extended sisters and brothers. We spent holidays and summers together in Pine Valley and St. George, riding horses and hayracks, making treehouses, doing sleepovers, selling lemonade, hiking, backpacking and having experiences all too few children get to have these days. No computer games or TV there-- besides there were more fun things to do like riding in the jeep at night spotting deer, digging nightcrawlers for fishing the next day and walks to the general store for Big Sticks and ice cream. And of course all the great stories our aunts and uncles would tell about when THEY were children. When we grew up, we were there at each other's weddings, family reunions and continued visiting as aunts, uncles and grandparents aged.
Sharlene is the oldest of all of us. She expresseded over and over again how much she appreciated I and my sibs being there during this time of transition for her. There were a few unexpected disappointing events surrounding my uncle's passing which left her feeling more grateful for family that showed up in any form. She was also saddled with most of the completion of my Uncle's passing: the memorial, cleaning out his place and finalizing aspects of his will.
Sharlene's a lot like her dad both in independence and wit. While he was still with us, Uncle Charlie was walking up to Sharlene's front door via front porch one day and saw her caring for a stray cat with a warm blanket and food. He commented to her, "When I die, I want to come back as one of your cats." To which Sharlene replies "Dad, I spay and neuter".
The apple does not fall far from the tree. Such is Pickett wit.
A couple of weeks ago, my son David and I visited her after visiting my uncle for the last time. We walked out of his house, tearfully hugging each other each other, knowing we'd never see him again. We then went to Sharlene's to pay a visit. She knew David's deployment was near and shared with him a conversation she had with my father decades ago after he returned home from WWII.
"Uncle Evan" she asked. How did you make it through the War alive, when there were so many dangerous situations you were in?" To which my father responded:
"Every time I'd hear a voice say "Duck!", that's what I'd do and I learned to trust that voice."
Enough said.
Also during the same visit Sharlene shared some things about my grandmother being psychically gifted which saved both her and my grandfather's life at least once. My grandmother was also so psychically attuned and connected to my father that she knew when the invasion happeded, without being told. Sharlene said government authorities contacted her afterwards to find out how she knew.
All I can say to that is this: There is absolutely no substitute for knowing and trusting the intuition and the gut.
As for the the dinner today: we got out the silver and good china, cooked a fabulous batch of chicken cacciatore and retired downstairs afterward for music around the old piano which originally belonged to my mother's parents. Old favorites were offered on the viiolin, cello, mandolin, piano and voice-- even a favorite of my grandmother Ruthe: Mockingbird Hill.
Appreciation, hugs at the door ended our evening together. Another day in the Pickett extended family.
I have gratitude for growing up with cousins who I count as precious extended sisters and brothers. We spent holidays and summers together in Pine Valley and St. George, riding horses and hayracks, making treehouses, doing sleepovers, selling lemonade, hiking, backpacking and having experiences all too few children get to have these days. No computer games or TV there-- besides there were more fun things to do like riding in the jeep at night spotting deer, digging nightcrawlers for fishing the next day and walks to the general store for Big Sticks and ice cream. And of course all the great stories our aunts and uncles would tell about when THEY were children. When we grew up, we were there at each other's weddings, family reunions and continued visiting as aunts, uncles and grandparents aged.
Sharlene is the oldest of all of us. She expresseded over and over again how much she appreciated I and my sibs being there during this time of transition for her. There were a few unexpected disappointing events surrounding my uncle's passing which left her feeling more grateful for family that showed up in any form. She was also saddled with most of the completion of my Uncle's passing: the memorial, cleaning out his place and finalizing aspects of his will.
Sharlene's a lot like her dad both in independence and wit. While he was still with us, Uncle Charlie was walking up to Sharlene's front door via front porch one day and saw her caring for a stray cat with a warm blanket and food. He commented to her, "When I die, I want to come back as one of your cats." To which Sharlene replies "Dad, I spay and neuter".
The apple does not fall far from the tree. Such is Pickett wit.
A couple of weeks ago, my son David and I visited her after visiting my uncle for the last time. We walked out of his house, tearfully hugging each other each other, knowing we'd never see him again. We then went to Sharlene's to pay a visit. She knew David's deployment was near and shared with him a conversation she had with my father decades ago after he returned home from WWII.
"Uncle Evan" she asked. How did you make it through the War alive, when there were so many dangerous situations you were in?" To which my father responded:
"Every time I'd hear a voice say "Duck!", that's what I'd do and I learned to trust that voice."
Enough said.
Also during the same visit Sharlene shared some things about my grandmother being psychically gifted which saved both her and my grandfather's life at least once. My grandmother was also so psychically attuned and connected to my father that she knew when the invasion happeded, without being told. Sharlene said government authorities contacted her afterwards to find out how she knew.
All I can say to that is this: There is absolutely no substitute for knowing and trusting the intuition and the gut.
As for the the dinner today: we got out the silver and good china, cooked a fabulous batch of chicken cacciatore and retired downstairs afterward for music around the old piano which originally belonged to my mother's parents. Old favorites were offered on the viiolin, cello, mandolin, piano and voice-- even a favorite of my grandmother Ruthe: Mockingbird Hill.
Appreciation, hugs at the door ended our evening together. Another day in the Pickett extended family.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Road Trip Day 2: Uncle Charlie
I woke up this morning knowing it was going to be a long day. Jittery, high strung energy from completing the 10 hr. cross country drive late the night before had left me unable to fall asleep until the wee hours of the morning. Obeying the alarm clock, I piled out of bed, went into the kitchen where my brother had brewed a fresh pot of coffee and proceeded to do my best to wake up before the 10:00 rehearsal...prior to the memorial service in the early afternoon.
I come from an artsy family. My mother was a professional dancer, studying under Martha Graham and both my mother and late father came from families where talent in the arts were appreciated and fostered. With 2 siblings, one studied piano and voice, another violin and myself; the cello and other strings. The 3 of us have long been known to provide family gatherings with music and the occaision of my Uncle Charlie's memorial was no exception: we were asked weeks beforehand.
There were a few selections my sis arranged for the service but it was the first one we rehearsed which triggered a burst of tears when I began to play the opening strains of "Danny Boy".
"Sorry guys, I need a moment".
It was a favorite song of my uncle's and I also happened to play it at another farewell just 3 weeks earlier when the family had gathered at my place just days before my son's deployment to Iraq. After I played it at David's farewell, accompanied by my sister, she informed me that my grandmother (Charlie's mother) sang it in her lovely contralto voice for both my father and his 2 brothers before they went off to war.
God, what a loaded song.
The Ashokan Farewell was the last piece we rehearsed complimented by other selections which we were all generously complimented on after the beautiful and authentic memorial service.
My uncle was someone who personified "I Did it My Way" his entire life. Stubbornly independent, warm, brilliant, unruly, generous to a fault combined with a sting everyone respected, characterized his walk. He came from a family of voracous storytellers and unmatched wit. My memories of him began at an early age, with family vacations in beautiful Pine Valley, 32 miles north. He was there with my dad when I caught my first fish, laughed uproariously when I sported a supprised expression upon crossing cattle guards at high speed for the first time and the summer I was 12 years old said very genuinely, "You're turning into a beautiful woman, Lynds".
At his passing, his body was completely worn out but his mind was perfectly intact. I remember the visit David and I had paid just 2 weeks before. He was very weak, but still had it in him to compliment both of us in the fashion he had done his entire life. "Lyndsy, you look more beautiful than ever", was the last compliment he paid to me. He had a way of engaging a person in the first 10 seconds he was in their presence that showed his charisma and ability to put an entire room at ease.
His graveside service was complete with military honors-- the same that was accorded my father 13 years ago this very month. The flag was held over his ashes, then folded and presented to his daughter and son. In the 103 degree heat the 21 gun salute shattered what remained of my composure the way it did the day we buried my father. Tears fell for missing my dad...and more immediately, my uncle. All of it combined to simultaneously strike the sensitive, primal chords of a mother's heart-- for a son had just left for war.
What an effing loaded day.
The family gathering at Uncle Charlie's a couple of hours later was restorative for all-- we sent him out in grand style, just the way he would have wanted. Music, good food and drink, stories and hearty laughs abounded. The priceless gift of a supportive family once again connected, filled us all. My uncle was there...he was DEFINITELY there to see us through this day as well.
The day ended with my gratitude for the comittment of my family: who don't necessarily agree with each other all the time, but are always there to support each other through thick and thin, through all kinds of life changing events. Take the last year, for example. There with my daughter in April when my granddaughter, Aurora was born. Family showed up for my son David's graduation in May and again to celebrate my mother's 90th birthday in June. The holidays with the fam strengthened me at a difficult time personally. They came to see David off to Iraq and today for Uncle Charlie. In August my brother will turn 50 and we'll most likely descend on him to celebrate. Now, this may not the way every family decides to live with each other, but it sure works for me.
Especially today.
I come from an artsy family. My mother was a professional dancer, studying under Martha Graham and both my mother and late father came from families where talent in the arts were appreciated and fostered. With 2 siblings, one studied piano and voice, another violin and myself; the cello and other strings. The 3 of us have long been known to provide family gatherings with music and the occaision of my Uncle Charlie's memorial was no exception: we were asked weeks beforehand.
There were a few selections my sis arranged for the service but it was the first one we rehearsed which triggered a burst of tears when I began to play the opening strains of "Danny Boy".
"Sorry guys, I need a moment".
It was a favorite song of my uncle's and I also happened to play it at another farewell just 3 weeks earlier when the family had gathered at my place just days before my son's deployment to Iraq. After I played it at David's farewell, accompanied by my sister, she informed me that my grandmother (Charlie's mother) sang it in her lovely contralto voice for both my father and his 2 brothers before they went off to war.
God, what a loaded song.
The Ashokan Farewell was the last piece we rehearsed complimented by other selections which we were all generously complimented on after the beautiful and authentic memorial service.
My uncle was someone who personified "I Did it My Way" his entire life. Stubbornly independent, warm, brilliant, unruly, generous to a fault combined with a sting everyone respected, characterized his walk. He came from a family of voracous storytellers and unmatched wit. My memories of him began at an early age, with family vacations in beautiful Pine Valley, 32 miles north. He was there with my dad when I caught my first fish, laughed uproariously when I sported a supprised expression upon crossing cattle guards at high speed for the first time and the summer I was 12 years old said very genuinely, "You're turning into a beautiful woman, Lynds".
At his passing, his body was completely worn out but his mind was perfectly intact. I remember the visit David and I had paid just 2 weeks before. He was very weak, but still had it in him to compliment both of us in the fashion he had done his entire life. "Lyndsy, you look more beautiful than ever", was the last compliment he paid to me. He had a way of engaging a person in the first 10 seconds he was in their presence that showed his charisma and ability to put an entire room at ease.
His graveside service was complete with military honors-- the same that was accorded my father 13 years ago this very month. The flag was held over his ashes, then folded and presented to his daughter and son. In the 103 degree heat the 21 gun salute shattered what remained of my composure the way it did the day we buried my father. Tears fell for missing my dad...and more immediately, my uncle. All of it combined to simultaneously strike the sensitive, primal chords of a mother's heart-- for a son had just left for war.
What an effing loaded day.
The family gathering at Uncle Charlie's a couple of hours later was restorative for all-- we sent him out in grand style, just the way he would have wanted. Music, good food and drink, stories and hearty laughs abounded. The priceless gift of a supportive family once again connected, filled us all. My uncle was there...he was DEFINITELY there to see us through this day as well.
The day ended with my gratitude for the comittment of my family: who don't necessarily agree with each other all the time, but are always there to support each other through thick and thin, through all kinds of life changing events. Take the last year, for example. There with my daughter in April when my granddaughter, Aurora was born. Family showed up for my son David's graduation in May and again to celebrate my mother's 90th birthday in June. The holidays with the fam strengthened me at a difficult time personally. They came to see David off to Iraq and today for Uncle Charlie. In August my brother will turn 50 and we'll most likely descend on him to celebrate. Now, this may not the way every family decides to live with each other, but it sure works for me.
Especially today.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Road Trip : Travelling the Inner Terrain
Road trips are not only great fun but packed with all kinds of adventure-- both inside and out. Today's post is the first of a 12 day trip I just returned from. There was so much packed into each day, there was no time to write! So here is the entire event, starting with today as day 1.
DAY 1
I left on a road trip today that will total over 2000 miles. I had the option of flying and saving time but cancelled my tickets at the last minute and saved the fares for later. (...and no charge to cancel--God, I love Southwest Airlines). The 2 destinations could have been reached more quickly by flying but I opted for the slower, deeper adventure of the mile-by-mile experience of covering the distance on the ground. I had my Jeep checked yesterday and am good to go. It's been a faithful pony through Colorado winters, hauling hitched loads, car camping and much more.
There's something about getting behind the wheel and travelling through all kinds of physical terrain that allows me to cover the inner terrain of my soul. I've been itching to get out on the road for MONTHS-- I need to let the last several months, thick and fast with milestone events and changes-- sink into my cells. I want to sit in the driver's seat of my Jeep as the miles tick away on my odometer and let each mile inside sink into and sort through my life, relationships and all kinds of emotional and mental terrain. I will take my favorite music and use it....or not. Sometimes just the whir of the engine, rain against the windshield or gusts of desert wind hitting the side of my car are music enough.
My destination today is St. George, Utah, 639 miles away. Uncle Charlie's memorial is tomorrow. Just 2 weeks ago I made a whirlwind weekend visit there by plane to visit him when I got the news he was gravely ill. He passed 2 days after my visit. My travelling companion for that trip was my son, David ( a favorite grand-nephew of my uncle) who deployed to Iraq just 2 days after my uncle's passing. Lots of goodbyes experienced by David and I in the last few weeks. That's a story for another day.
So I climbed into my champagne colored pony, loaded with food and drink for the road (more convenient than having to stop when you're 112 miles from the nearest convenience store in the middle of the San Raphael Swell on I-70), suitcase, goodies for the family and stuff I've been saving to bring to my grandbabies in California, which is my final destination. (Yeah, getting Southwest to take a child's rocking chair and hobby horse in the belly of the plane would have been a no-go.) I surrounded my car with safety, said some words to Great Spirit and pulled out of the driveway.
I've discovered the power of intention in my life as a good foundation for any experience. Knowing what I want instead of merely letting life happen (or at least a combination of the two) on the road has been a pretty good recipe for being at peace and having a good time. (It also works really well every day I'm not on the road!) So this first day is rich with intentions of what I want to experience in the next 12 days. 1) Safety and my vehicle operating normally, 2) making good memories 3 )being centered and grounded on the road and with my relations and 4) the ability to craft wisdom and insight from each of the experiences I have on my journey.
It's about 10 hr. (with breaks) to St. George, UT. Packing along the extra stuff took more time and the garden had to be tended to before taking off. Leaving at 2 in the afternoon was not my intention, but oh well, here I am. Up, up up the continental divide, through Eisenhower tunnel at over 11,000 ft., down, then up over Vail pass at 10,600 is the first leg. Through Glenwood Canyon, following the Colorado river almost overflowing its banks into the desert to Grand Junction, Colorado and into the brilliantly colorful panoramas of the Utah desert completes the second section of the trip. The sun is sinking into the western horizon as I slide up and over the breathtaking Capitol Reef.
Around 9 p.m. I'm rolling out of Richfield, UT after a gas stop. It's late, I'm tired and I want to be done, but I've got 3 more hours in the dark on the road through the mountains. There's no cell phone coverage and coffee jisn't keeping me awake and alert anymore. So I bring up James Brown on the CD player. "ALL ABOARD...The Night Train" I sing along but renaming the cities in the song: "Denver, Colorado....Grand Junction, Colorado....Beaver, Utah....St. George Utah...."
I arrive at my mother's house at midnight. The key has been left out, the rest of the house is alseep with family that have come as many miles as I. I grab my suitcase and cello out of the Jeep, close the door to my bedroom and fall into bed.
Thank you Great Spirit, we've had a safe and good journey today.
DAY 1
I left on a road trip today that will total over 2000 miles. I had the option of flying and saving time but cancelled my tickets at the last minute and saved the fares for later. (...and no charge to cancel--God, I love Southwest Airlines). The 2 destinations could have been reached more quickly by flying but I opted for the slower, deeper adventure of the mile-by-mile experience of covering the distance on the ground. I had my Jeep checked yesterday and am good to go. It's been a faithful pony through Colorado winters, hauling hitched loads, car camping and much more.
There's something about getting behind the wheel and travelling through all kinds of physical terrain that allows me to cover the inner terrain of my soul. I've been itching to get out on the road for MONTHS-- I need to let the last several months, thick and fast with milestone events and changes-- sink into my cells. I want to sit in the driver's seat of my Jeep as the miles tick away on my odometer and let each mile inside sink into and sort through my life, relationships and all kinds of emotional and mental terrain. I will take my favorite music and use it....or not. Sometimes just the whir of the engine, rain against the windshield or gusts of desert wind hitting the side of my car are music enough.
My destination today is St. George, Utah, 639 miles away. Uncle Charlie's memorial is tomorrow. Just 2 weeks ago I made a whirlwind weekend visit there by plane to visit him when I got the news he was gravely ill. He passed 2 days after my visit. My travelling companion for that trip was my son, David ( a favorite grand-nephew of my uncle) who deployed to Iraq just 2 days after my uncle's passing. Lots of goodbyes experienced by David and I in the last few weeks. That's a story for another day.
So I climbed into my champagne colored pony, loaded with food and drink for the road (more convenient than having to stop when you're 112 miles from the nearest convenience store in the middle of the San Raphael Swell on I-70), suitcase, goodies for the family and stuff I've been saving to bring to my grandbabies in California, which is my final destination. (Yeah, getting Southwest to take a child's rocking chair and hobby horse in the belly of the plane would have been a no-go.) I surrounded my car with safety, said some words to Great Spirit and pulled out of the driveway.
I've discovered the power of intention in my life as a good foundation for any experience. Knowing what I want instead of merely letting life happen (or at least a combination of the two) on the road has been a pretty good recipe for being at peace and having a good time. (It also works really well every day I'm not on the road!) So this first day is rich with intentions of what I want to experience in the next 12 days. 1) Safety and my vehicle operating normally, 2) making good memories 3 )being centered and grounded on the road and with my relations and 4) the ability to craft wisdom and insight from each of the experiences I have on my journey.
It's about 10 hr. (with breaks) to St. George, UT. Packing along the extra stuff took more time and the garden had to be tended to before taking off. Leaving at 2 in the afternoon was not my intention, but oh well, here I am. Up, up up the continental divide, through Eisenhower tunnel at over 11,000 ft., down, then up over Vail pass at 10,600 is the first leg. Through Glenwood Canyon, following the Colorado river almost overflowing its banks into the desert to Grand Junction, Colorado and into the brilliantly colorful panoramas of the Utah desert completes the second section of the trip. The sun is sinking into the western horizon as I slide up and over the breathtaking Capitol Reef.
Around 9 p.m. I'm rolling out of Richfield, UT after a gas stop. It's late, I'm tired and I want to be done, but I've got 3 more hours in the dark on the road through the mountains. There's no cell phone coverage and coffee jisn't keeping me awake and alert anymore. So I bring up James Brown on the CD player. "ALL ABOARD...The Night Train" I sing along but renaming the cities in the song: "Denver, Colorado....Grand Junction, Colorado....Beaver, Utah....St. George Utah...."
I arrive at my mother's house at midnight. The key has been left out, the rest of the house is alseep with family that have come as many miles as I. I grab my suitcase and cello out of the Jeep, close the door to my bedroom and fall into bed.
Thank you Great Spirit, we've had a safe and good journey today.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Winter is Over
IMAGINAL JOURNEY
I am a wind on the deep waters
I am a fish, I bear the soul theough the dark waters
I am a tree, I suck the poison and transform it to life.
-- Asphodel P. Long
Tonight I'm thinking it's better to offer a little than none at all. The bear has been hibernating and is now poking her nose out of the cave. Spring is here and the long winter is over.
For weeks on end this winter I've watched the turtle house in our family room next to the sliding glass door downstairs. Week after week, both critters were burrowed into the house, drawn into their shells, eyes shut. No one ventured out to eat and the water in their minature pond evaporated with no turtle visits. I picked each of them up a few times during the winter. With eyes closed or slits barely open, they would send me a strong message: "Hey, I'm ASLEEP. LEAVE ME ALONE!"
OK, OK, put the turtle back gently....sorry guys.
A few weeks back they started coming out a little bit at a time....now they're out, and hungry, albeit a spring snowstorm the other day had them scuttling back into their shelter to hunker down for a while.
"She [the bear] not only survives the barren months, she gives birth. She is the caretaker of the unseen world", writes Terry Tempest Williams in "An Unspoken Hunger".
Terry also writes, "Above ground in the abundance of spring and summer, I am available. Below ground in the deepening of autumn and winter, I am not. I need hibernation in order to create".
Enough said. At least for tonight.
I'm glad it's Spring.
I am a wind on the deep waters
I am a fish, I bear the soul theough the dark waters
I am a tree, I suck the poison and transform it to life.
-- Asphodel P. Long
Tonight I'm thinking it's better to offer a little than none at all. The bear has been hibernating and is now poking her nose out of the cave. Spring is here and the long winter is over.
For weeks on end this winter I've watched the turtle house in our family room next to the sliding glass door downstairs. Week after week, both critters were burrowed into the house, drawn into their shells, eyes shut. No one ventured out to eat and the water in their minature pond evaporated with no turtle visits. I picked each of them up a few times during the winter. With eyes closed or slits barely open, they would send me a strong message: "Hey, I'm ASLEEP. LEAVE ME ALONE!"
OK, OK, put the turtle back gently....sorry guys.
A few weeks back they started coming out a little bit at a time....now they're out, and hungry, albeit a spring snowstorm the other day had them scuttling back into their shelter to hunker down for a while.
"She [the bear] not only survives the barren months, she gives birth. She is the caretaker of the unseen world", writes Terry Tempest Williams in "An Unspoken Hunger".
Terry also writes, "Above ground in the abundance of spring and summer, I am available. Below ground in the deepening of autumn and winter, I am not. I need hibernation in order to create".
Enough said. At least for tonight.
I'm glad it's Spring.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Traversing The Void
Journey
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
determined to save
the only life you could save.
-- Mary Oliver
Traversing the Void in a body. What a effin trip!
For any of us going through any transition periods and periods of uncertainty, the more we can be in our body, the better. Part of getting my body back is taking it along for the ride.
What does it mean to be in my body?
For me, it's making my feet solid as tree trunks, planted on the ground, moving down into my gut, landing between my head and looking out through my eyes. Then I get to feel everything inside-- all the sensations that tell me the truth at every moment. My body will never lie. The question is, WILL I LISTEN? Most of us greatly underestimate the information and wisdom our body imparts on a daily and moment-by-moment basis.
I really have to say that some days the void (and thus my body) is peaceful. Somedays it's turbulent and very uncomfortable. Those are the days I have to pay extra attention to breathe (versus holding my breath), move slower inside, put myself to bed early, excercise and eat well. But one unmistakeable characteristic of the Void is-- there are no guarantees. My sister remarked on the place of Mystery: "The cauldron of possibility! Living with the question, not forcing a premature answer."
So aptly described. I felt a big "YES' in my body when I read that sentence yesterday. Yet today I have a knot in my stomach which tells me of my current discomfort of uncertainty.
What am I going to do today with the information I have? Scramble for a position so my ego will be more comfortable in not knowing outcomes? One day it's this. One day it's that.
"Why are we in such a haste to have answers? We jump on the first promise of salvation that comes. Why not stay with the question? What makes you think that salvation is the answer, that freedom is the answer? What makes you think that enlightenment is the answer? What makes you think that love is the answer? You might feel that you want these things, but how do you know that getting them is the best thing that could happen in this moment? How do you know whether you're supposed to be dead or alive, rich or poor, free or enslaved? Is it possible to let your mind be free?
I am not trying to give you an answer; I'm just giving you a question. You need to let your being be ablaze like a flame, an aspiring flame, with no preconceived ideas about what it aspires to. To be just burning intensely, deeply wanting to know, wanting to see the truth without following any preconceptions, totally in the present with the question itself, and let it burn away all the ideas, all the beliefs, all the concepts, even the ones you learned from the great teachings. If you don't allow that flame completely, will you ever rest in your life? Will you ever rest in your life as long as you're covering up your question, answering it before it's really answered? Will you ever really be content with someone else's answer? "
A.H. Almaas Diamond Heart, Book III
Hmm......if I can suspend my need to always have an answer, my body just might make it through this transition a little easier. All I have to do is one day, one moment at a time. That's all I know about how to live in this place.
Next Post: The New Moon at Winter Solstice
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
determined to save
the only life you could save.
-- Mary Oliver
Traversing the Void in a body. What a effin trip!
For any of us going through any transition periods and periods of uncertainty, the more we can be in our body, the better. Part of getting my body back is taking it along for the ride.
What does it mean to be in my body?
For me, it's making my feet solid as tree trunks, planted on the ground, moving down into my gut, landing between my head and looking out through my eyes. Then I get to feel everything inside-- all the sensations that tell me the truth at every moment. My body will never lie. The question is, WILL I LISTEN? Most of us greatly underestimate the information and wisdom our body imparts on a daily and moment-by-moment basis.
I really have to say that some days the void (and thus my body) is peaceful. Somedays it's turbulent and very uncomfortable. Those are the days I have to pay extra attention to breathe (versus holding my breath), move slower inside, put myself to bed early, excercise and eat well. But one unmistakeable characteristic of the Void is-- there are no guarantees. My sister remarked on the place of Mystery: "The cauldron of possibility! Living with the question, not forcing a premature answer."
So aptly described. I felt a big "YES' in my body when I read that sentence yesterday. Yet today I have a knot in my stomach which tells me of my current discomfort of uncertainty.
What am I going to do today with the information I have? Scramble for a position so my ego will be more comfortable in not knowing outcomes? One day it's this. One day it's that.
"Why are we in such a haste to have answers? We jump on the first promise of salvation that comes. Why not stay with the question? What makes you think that salvation is the answer, that freedom is the answer? What makes you think that enlightenment is the answer? What makes you think that love is the answer? You might feel that you want these things, but how do you know that getting them is the best thing that could happen in this moment? How do you know whether you're supposed to be dead or alive, rich or poor, free or enslaved? Is it possible to let your mind be free?
I am not trying to give you an answer; I'm just giving you a question. You need to let your being be ablaze like a flame, an aspiring flame, with no preconceived ideas about what it aspires to. To be just burning intensely, deeply wanting to know, wanting to see the truth without following any preconceptions, totally in the present with the question itself, and let it burn away all the ideas, all the beliefs, all the concepts, even the ones you learned from the great teachings. If you don't allow that flame completely, will you ever rest in your life? Will you ever rest in your life as long as you're covering up your question, answering it before it's really answered? Will you ever really be content with someone else's answer? "
A.H. Almaas Diamond Heart, Book III
Hmm......if I can suspend my need to always have an answer, my body just might make it through this transition a little easier. All I have to do is one day, one moment at a time. That's all I know about how to live in this place.
Next Post: The New Moon at Winter Solstice
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
How The Phoenix Rises: Step 1: Let Yourself Be Taken Down
I know, I know. "WHY?", you say, "Why in God's name would I ever consider doing THAT????"
First of all, don't believe a word I say-- although you might consider those of a master:
The man who, being really on the Way, falls upon hard times in the world will not, as a consequence, turn to that friend who offers him refuge and comfort and encourages his old self to survive. ... Only to the extent that man exposes himself over and over again to annihilation, can that which is indestructible arise within him. In this lies the dignity of daring...The first necessity is that we should have the courage to face life, and to encounter all that is most perilous in the world. Only if we venture repeatedly through zones of annihilation, can our contact with Divine Being, which is beyond annihilation, become firm and stable. The more a man learns whole-heartedly to confront the world that threatens him with isolation, the more are the depths of the Ground of Being revealed and the possibilities of new life and Becoming opened.
Karlfried Graf von Durckheim, "The Way of Transformation"
...and another:
"We have a fear of facing ourselves. That is the obstacle. Experiencing the innermost core of our existence is very embarrassing to a lot of people. A lot of people turn to something that they hope will liberate them without their having to face themselves. That is impossible. We can't do that. We have to be honest with ourselves. We have to see our gut, our excrement, our most undesirable parts. We have to see them. That is the foundation of warriorship, basically speaking. Whatever is there, we have to face it, we have to look at it, study it, work with it....."
-- Chogyam Trungpa
Reader, are you still asking "WHY?"
OK, then I'll tell you what I know for myself.
There's a lot happening right now in 2009 to take folks down, and it's been happening for some time. Bankruptcies, forecloseures, businesses failing, unfaithful marriage partners, family crises, big health issues for some-- the list goes on. You have your version of it and I have mine.
I happen to believe that there are silver linings in these clouds, although the storms of change they carry may wipe out every reference point for us that was dear and comfortable. Yes, there is a gift hidden in the rubble of the structure that once stood in your life, and it may have been a big, impressive structure at that. It could have been a landmark for other people important to you, but most importantly, yourself. It could have been the only thing you thought existed or represented who you were and that NOTHING could replace or match it.
I've got news for you. Something other than the stucture exists and NONE of us who got taken down were able to see past it or go outside it, for that matter. We were prisoners! When structures collapse, we're able to see and deal with what we were blind to or unwilling to work with. What we took for granted. What we didn't take action on...etc., etc., etc. We're also free of its confinements. What waits for us after the structure collapses is a new life, although it may be a life for which we have ZERO reference points and lots of fears and judgements. The wise place inside us knows this. The ego doesn't. It may fight tooth and nail to keep the structure alive and standing. It may also be running around, desperately trying to pick up the pieces to put it all back together again.
There's a great saying by Jack Handy, of "Saturday Night Live":
"If you ever drop your keys into a river of molten lava, let 'em go, because, man, they're gone."
There's so much pain and and unhappiness that results as we try to fetch the keys! It comes in the form of trying to convince others that we're right by blaming, trying to cover stuff up, finding scapegoats, distracting ourselves with overwork and any number of addictions...and a thousand other "fixes". If we're determined to keep the old, we may get wake up call after wake up call in order to send the message that whatever we're trying to hold on to JUST DOESN'T MATCH WHO WE REALLY ARE. Some may literally die rather than looking at and taking action on what they need to change. There is something deeper inside that's screaming to get out and it will be heard at all costs. So the question becomes "When is it enough?" When have I had enough pain, enough dysfunction and enough struggle in order to finally let go of something that needs to be replaced by a reinvention of who I am?
One of the reasons may be that after the structure collapses, we don't have anything to hold on to, nothing to see ourselves by. This makes the ego go CRAZY. "If I can't be that, "I am nothing, I am a failure, I am worthless," is what the ego has decided prior to the structure collapsing, which is why so many are freaked out when it happens. The truth is, it's a place of REAL transformation and change.
There's a native american story called "The Shaman's Dream". In native cultures, the shaman or village healer-to-be will traditionally pass through experiences (created or natural) in which they are not expected to survive physically, BUT DO. The result is the healer is transformed from the inside out and everges as a very powerful leader and medicine person. The experiences can be anything from getting struck by lightening, to being out in the wilderness for weeks on end with nothing but a blanket and knife, to drowning, to getting bitten by a poisonous insect or reptile, etc. In this particular scenario the initate becomes sick with a very high fever so that she goes into a coma for several days. In the coma she experiences a dream in which she is torn apart by wild animals. In this dismemberment, hair is torn from the scalp, arms taken off, the heart ripped out and eaten(what a metaphor, eh?), eyes plucked from sockets-- you get the idea. She is not even recognizeable because so much of her physical body is now destroyed. She doesn't even recognize herself in this place of death. There is a space of time where the pieces of her former self just lie in the emptiness of her dream. The next thing that happens is that her body is put back together in this emptiness in a whole new way which makes her more powerful and gifted beyond measure. She awakens from the dream, totally "re-membered" to herself and the village. What's important to notice here is that NONE of this transformation gets to happen without her experience.
The place in the shaman's dream where the pieces lie is what indigenous cultures call "The Void". It's the "no-place" place of emptiness, in which the past is gone and the future is not yet here. It is the place of total darkness, like the new moon on a cold winter night. No light, which means navigating in a whole new way. Most people run from this place like crazy. It can be the most disorienting of expeiences for a person who doesn't know how to use its potency. But for the spiritual warrior, it is the crucible of the future. It waits for us as the empty hollow of a cauldron waits for the alchemist...who has in her hands the recipe for a magical elixer which will soon come into form. For the spiritual warrior, this is the place that holds the most powerful of healing medicines. More on "The Void" in the next post.
First of all, don't believe a word I say-- although you might consider those of a master:
The man who, being really on the Way, falls upon hard times in the world will not, as a consequence, turn to that friend who offers him refuge and comfort and encourages his old self to survive. ... Only to the extent that man exposes himself over and over again to annihilation, can that which is indestructible arise within him. In this lies the dignity of daring...The first necessity is that we should have the courage to face life, and to encounter all that is most perilous in the world. Only if we venture repeatedly through zones of annihilation, can our contact with Divine Being, which is beyond annihilation, become firm and stable. The more a man learns whole-heartedly to confront the world that threatens him with isolation, the more are the depths of the Ground of Being revealed and the possibilities of new life and Becoming opened.
Karlfried Graf von Durckheim, "The Way of Transformation"
...and another:
"We have a fear of facing ourselves. That is the obstacle. Experiencing the innermost core of our existence is very embarrassing to a lot of people. A lot of people turn to something that they hope will liberate them without their having to face themselves. That is impossible. We can't do that. We have to be honest with ourselves. We have to see our gut, our excrement, our most undesirable parts. We have to see them. That is the foundation of warriorship, basically speaking. Whatever is there, we have to face it, we have to look at it, study it, work with it....."
-- Chogyam Trungpa
Reader, are you still asking "WHY?"
OK, then I'll tell you what I know for myself.
There's a lot happening right now in 2009 to take folks down, and it's been happening for some time. Bankruptcies, forecloseures, businesses failing, unfaithful marriage partners, family crises, big health issues for some-- the list goes on. You have your version of it and I have mine.
I happen to believe that there are silver linings in these clouds, although the storms of change they carry may wipe out every reference point for us that was dear and comfortable. Yes, there is a gift hidden in the rubble of the structure that once stood in your life, and it may have been a big, impressive structure at that. It could have been a landmark for other people important to you, but most importantly, yourself. It could have been the only thing you thought existed or represented who you were and that NOTHING could replace or match it.
I've got news for you. Something other than the stucture exists and NONE of us who got taken down were able to see past it or go outside it, for that matter. We were prisoners! When structures collapse, we're able to see and deal with what we were blind to or unwilling to work with. What we took for granted. What we didn't take action on...etc., etc., etc. We're also free of its confinements. What waits for us after the structure collapses is a new life, although it may be a life for which we have ZERO reference points and lots of fears and judgements. The wise place inside us knows this. The ego doesn't. It may fight tooth and nail to keep the structure alive and standing. It may also be running around, desperately trying to pick up the pieces to put it all back together again.
There's a great saying by Jack Handy, of "Saturday Night Live":
"If you ever drop your keys into a river of molten lava, let 'em go, because, man, they're gone."
There's so much pain and and unhappiness that results as we try to fetch the keys! It comes in the form of trying to convince others that we're right by blaming, trying to cover stuff up, finding scapegoats, distracting ourselves with overwork and any number of addictions...and a thousand other "fixes". If we're determined to keep the old, we may get wake up call after wake up call in order to send the message that whatever we're trying to hold on to JUST DOESN'T MATCH WHO WE REALLY ARE. Some may literally die rather than looking at and taking action on what they need to change. There is something deeper inside that's screaming to get out and it will be heard at all costs. So the question becomes "When is it enough?" When have I had enough pain, enough dysfunction and enough struggle in order to finally let go of something that needs to be replaced by a reinvention of who I am?
One of the reasons may be that after the structure collapses, we don't have anything to hold on to, nothing to see ourselves by. This makes the ego go CRAZY. "If I can't be that, "I am nothing, I am a failure, I am worthless," is what the ego has decided prior to the structure collapsing, which is why so many are freaked out when it happens. The truth is, it's a place of REAL transformation and change.
There's a native american story called "The Shaman's Dream". In native cultures, the shaman or village healer-to-be will traditionally pass through experiences (created or natural) in which they are not expected to survive physically, BUT DO. The result is the healer is transformed from the inside out and everges as a very powerful leader and medicine person. The experiences can be anything from getting struck by lightening, to being out in the wilderness for weeks on end with nothing but a blanket and knife, to drowning, to getting bitten by a poisonous insect or reptile, etc. In this particular scenario the initate becomes sick with a very high fever so that she goes into a coma for several days. In the coma she experiences a dream in which she is torn apart by wild animals. In this dismemberment, hair is torn from the scalp, arms taken off, the heart ripped out and eaten(what a metaphor, eh?), eyes plucked from sockets-- you get the idea. She is not even recognizeable because so much of her physical body is now destroyed. She doesn't even recognize herself in this place of death. There is a space of time where the pieces of her former self just lie in the emptiness of her dream. The next thing that happens is that her body is put back together in this emptiness in a whole new way which makes her more powerful and gifted beyond measure. She awakens from the dream, totally "re-membered" to herself and the village. What's important to notice here is that NONE of this transformation gets to happen without her experience.
The place in the shaman's dream where the pieces lie is what indigenous cultures call "The Void". It's the "no-place" place of emptiness, in which the past is gone and the future is not yet here. It is the place of total darkness, like the new moon on a cold winter night. No light, which means navigating in a whole new way. Most people run from this place like crazy. It can be the most disorienting of expeiences for a person who doesn't know how to use its potency. But for the spiritual warrior, it is the crucible of the future. It waits for us as the empty hollow of a cauldron waits for the alchemist...who has in her hands the recipe for a magical elixer which will soon come into form. For the spiritual warrior, this is the place that holds the most powerful of healing medicines. More on "The Void" in the next post.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Day 24: Becoming the Alchemist
IMAGINAL JOURNEY
I am a wind on the deep waters.
I am a fish, I bear the soul through the dark waters.
I am a tree, I suck the poison and transform it to life.
--Asphodel P. Long
"If you take me down now, I shall become more powerful than you can ever imagine."
-- Obi Wan Kenobi to Darth Vadar in "Star Wars"
Yes, let yourself be taken down. Just a short post today-- a potent idea I'll go into detail with next time. Whether this idea intrigues or repulses you, the reality is that life is full of experiences that take us down. The truth is, letting ourselves be taken down gives us the first possiblity to drink poison that is actually a very powerful healing, transformative medicine. Becoming the alchemist of your own life who can drink this particular poison is like being a condor. This bird is able to eat stuff that would kill the rest of us and uses it for life giving nourishment. I promise you that you can do the same. I'm doing it myself right now.
Next up on the blog: "How the Phoenix Rises: Step 1: Let Yourself Be Taken Down"
I am a wind on the deep waters.
I am a fish, I bear the soul through the dark waters.
I am a tree, I suck the poison and transform it to life.
--Asphodel P. Long
"If you take me down now, I shall become more powerful than you can ever imagine."
-- Obi Wan Kenobi to Darth Vadar in "Star Wars"
Yes, let yourself be taken down. Just a short post today-- a potent idea I'll go into detail with next time. Whether this idea intrigues or repulses you, the reality is that life is full of experiences that take us down. The truth is, letting ourselves be taken down gives us the first possiblity to drink poison that is actually a very powerful healing, transformative medicine. Becoming the alchemist of your own life who can drink this particular poison is like being a condor. This bird is able to eat stuff that would kill the rest of us and uses it for life giving nourishment. I promise you that you can do the same. I'm doing it myself right now.
Next up on the blog: "How the Phoenix Rises: Step 1: Let Yourself Be Taken Down"
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Day 22: Why Blame Doesn't Work
How Lynds Got Her Bod Back: Why Blame Doesn't Work
We are the mirror as well as the face in it.
We are tasting the taste this minute
of eternity. We are pain
and what cures pain, both. We are
the sweet cold water and the jar that pours.
I want to hold you close like a lute,
so we can cry out with loving.
You would rather throw stones at a mirror?
I am your mirror, and here are the stones.
--- Rumi
I received some news yesterday, more poured in today-- news that I didn't want to hear. Although some of you may be curious as hell what it actually was, I'm not telling. I must have some privacy for myself, amid the copious sharing of lots of other details about the inner workings of my life.
Content doesn't really matter anyway, it's what we do with it that matters. How often when we have an uncomfortable experience that challenges our ego do we jump to defend that place inside us that is about to take a huge leap in growth? Yes, growth. What knocked us may feel as if we've been pushed over the edge of a cliff and we're doomed to crash on the rocks below. Nothing but our own wings can save us. Many times we clip our own wings by blaming someone else. It's a very convenient and mostly automatic response to avoid taking any kind of personal responsibility that could really change ours and another's life.
Sure, my ego hurts and wants to be soothed protected by saying "It was totally THAT idiot's fault", but what about the bars in my cell that blaming protects and fortifies? What about my own wings that get clipped by every word of defense?
Blame is never about growth. It's ALWAYS about making someone else responsible for the pain and discomfort I FEEL.
So, I decide that the first step out of the cell is to FEEL. As I look at myself through the mirror of another's actions and words I get to sit with ME and all the emotions that I've landed in. There are no vicims here, only a portal, an opportunity to see the parts of myself that nothing but this moment could reveal to me. I also get to love and forgive myself and all the human things I have done. I drop the stones of blame I held, once poised to be flung at another (and thereby myself).
What remains? Where do I go from here? Truthfully in this moment, I have no idea. What I DO know is that now the emptiness will be filled with something more useful than blame. And before the emptiness of the portal is filled, I walk through.
What does any of this have to do with getting my bod back?
I can feel warm peace in my body instead of the tight stomach and cold, taught muscles that fear produced. I can breathe more easily.
No, the discomfort isn't completely gone, but as the river of self accountability flows, it will eventually carry all the discomfort away, every whit. Once again, I remember how to do this. I've done it before and it IS doable!
Another day, another win to get my body back.
We are the mirror as well as the face in it.
We are tasting the taste this minute
of eternity. We are pain
and what cures pain, both. We are
the sweet cold water and the jar that pours.
I want to hold you close like a lute,
so we can cry out with loving.
You would rather throw stones at a mirror?
I am your mirror, and here are the stones.
--- Rumi
I received some news yesterday, more poured in today-- news that I didn't want to hear. Although some of you may be curious as hell what it actually was, I'm not telling. I must have some privacy for myself, amid the copious sharing of lots of other details about the inner workings of my life.
Content doesn't really matter anyway, it's what we do with it that matters. How often when we have an uncomfortable experience that challenges our ego do we jump to defend that place inside us that is about to take a huge leap in growth? Yes, growth. What knocked us may feel as if we've been pushed over the edge of a cliff and we're doomed to crash on the rocks below. Nothing but our own wings can save us. Many times we clip our own wings by blaming someone else. It's a very convenient and mostly automatic response to avoid taking any kind of personal responsibility that could really change ours and another's life.
Sure, my ego hurts and wants to be soothed protected by saying "It was totally THAT idiot's fault", but what about the bars in my cell that blaming protects and fortifies? What about my own wings that get clipped by every word of defense?
Blame is never about growth. It's ALWAYS about making someone else responsible for the pain and discomfort I FEEL.
So, I decide that the first step out of the cell is to FEEL. As I look at myself through the mirror of another's actions and words I get to sit with ME and all the emotions that I've landed in. There are no vicims here, only a portal, an opportunity to see the parts of myself that nothing but this moment could reveal to me. I also get to love and forgive myself and all the human things I have done. I drop the stones of blame I held, once poised to be flung at another (and thereby myself).
What remains? Where do I go from here? Truthfully in this moment, I have no idea. What I DO know is that now the emptiness will be filled with something more useful than blame. And before the emptiness of the portal is filled, I walk through.
What does any of this have to do with getting my bod back?
I can feel warm peace in my body instead of the tight stomach and cold, taught muscles that fear produced. I can breathe more easily.
No, the discomfort isn't completely gone, but as the river of self accountability flows, it will eventually carry all the discomfort away, every whit. Once again, I remember how to do this. I've done it before and it IS doable!
Another day, another win to get my body back.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Day 10: Commitment: Self Saboteurs
HOW LYNDS GOT HER BOD BACK: Day 10: Commitment: Self Saboteurs
So sorry readers! I asked you to tune in the day after my last post, and it's now over a week later. GEESH! No excuses, I'm just hopping back in...
Comittment to a blog is important, too!
(Sigh)...so where was I?
Ah, self saboteurs. (laughing) Of course-- PERFECT.
Knowing I can't hang ANY responsibility on anyone else for my experience always allows me more freedom from the victim position when it comes to commitment.
I don't know about you, but here's how I sabotage myself.
1. I make unclear comittments, ones that PART of me can agree to, but not all of me. So there's a divided team inside from the start. For one, I often don't consult my body. More on that later.
2. I make unrealistic comittments, which immediately set me up for failure.
3. I create no support to keep me in my comittments. This is different than holding my support people responsible for my breaking my own comittments.
Here are a few more. In their book "The Conscious Heart", relationship pioneers Gay and Kathlyn Hendricks sum up four reasons why we break our commitments:
1. We make insincere commitments
2. We commit to things we cannot control
3. We leave a back door open
4. We make unconscious commitments that contradict the original commitment
If I'm really wanting to get my bod back, I'll set up the comittments I make to get my results along these guidelines:
1. Comittments are made from a whole being "YES" (body, mind, heart, spirit, adult and also the little kid within me. Yes, the kid gets a vote!)
2. I set up support and make clear agreements with those involved as to how to support me. AND THEN ALLOW MYSELF TO BE SUPPORTD. (Just a reminder to myself)
3. This is a NO EXIT game. Period. (I know, I know. There is a part of me chiding "god Lynds, what are you doing?")
4. I am 100% responsible for creating all of my experience.
5. I do a daily check in with my whole being (listed in #1 above. This will nip any kind of mutiny in the bud).
6. Recommit when necessary. (If I walked away from my first bike the moment I fell off, I'd have never had the pleasure of the bike rides I take today!)
As a parting observation, it's really interesting I'd be starting all this body stuff right before the biggest holday season of the year. Hmmm, hmmm......I guess I want a differnt experience of that this year!
So sorry readers! I asked you to tune in the day after my last post, and it's now over a week later. GEESH! No excuses, I'm just hopping back in...
Comittment to a blog is important, too!
(Sigh)...so where was I?
Ah, self saboteurs. (laughing) Of course-- PERFECT.
Knowing I can't hang ANY responsibility on anyone else for my experience always allows me more freedom from the victim position when it comes to commitment.
I don't know about you, but here's how I sabotage myself.
1. I make unclear comittments, ones that PART of me can agree to, but not all of me. So there's a divided team inside from the start. For one, I often don't consult my body. More on that later.
2. I make unrealistic comittments, which immediately set me up for failure.
3. I create no support to keep me in my comittments. This is different than holding my support people responsible for my breaking my own comittments.
Here are a few more. In their book "The Conscious Heart", relationship pioneers Gay and Kathlyn Hendricks sum up four reasons why we break our commitments:
1. We make insincere commitments
2. We commit to things we cannot control
3. We leave a back door open
4. We make unconscious commitments that contradict the original commitment
If I'm really wanting to get my bod back, I'll set up the comittments I make to get my results along these guidelines:
1. Comittments are made from a whole being "YES" (body, mind, heart, spirit, adult and also the little kid within me. Yes, the kid gets a vote!)
2. I set up support and make clear agreements with those involved as to how to support me. AND THEN ALLOW MYSELF TO BE SUPPORTD. (Just a reminder to myself)
3. This is a NO EXIT game. Period. (I know, I know. There is a part of me chiding "god Lynds, what are you doing?")
4. I am 100% responsible for creating all of my experience.
5. I do a daily check in with my whole being (listed in #1 above. This will nip any kind of mutiny in the bud).
6. Recommit when necessary. (If I walked away from my first bike the moment I fell off, I'd have never had the pleasure of the bike rides I take today!)
As a parting observation, it's really interesting I'd be starting all this body stuff right before the biggest holday season of the year. Hmmm, hmmm......I guess I want a differnt experience of that this year!
Thursday, November 12, 2009
How Lynds Got Her Bod Back: Day 2: Commitment: Crossing the Abyss
Hooo-EEE!
Going over the edge of the cliff into commitment is quite the experience.
The reason I start with "the 'C' word: It's a place many of us run from. Yeah, I'm definitely NOT satisfied with where I am and want I the good stuff so bad I can taste it! I'll make that list of everything I'm going to do, things I know have worked in the past and absolutely WILL work today and tomorrow. I will begin with sparkling dreams and gusto through each day for a certain period of time, plunging through all kinds of adventures to come closer to attaining my prize. I'll start to get results and pat myself on the back for the results I've created. People will even compliment me and it feels like I'm on a roll.
Then something happens.
Before long I'm feeling the same way I did prior to embarking on the journey: disgusted with myself.
WHAT HAPPENED? I tell myself that somewhere along the way, THIS (whatever circumstance feels the most believeable) happened. Yup, that was it and I'm sticking to my story. It could be any one of a slew of circumstances (we all have our favorites), some of which might seem very understandable as to why I abandonded my ship. Even sadder is the fact that I didn't even throw myself a rope so I have a chance of being on board again. I just let myself go. It's then months and maybe even years before I attempt this project again.
The plain and simple fact here is that I surrendered my commitment.
Today I know that none of the reasons why I lost my grip even matter. None of the reasons why I didn't ask for support while I was falling don't matter either. Plain and simple, instead of recommiting, I gave up on myself. Instead of keeping my word TO ME, I let my dream fall farther and farther, eventually disappearing sight.
Wow, sit and breathe with that one for a moment, Lynds.
Admitting that fact is the first step to a major rewire in this area for me. Honesty is good medicine! It may be the first handhold that would save the sinking dream. Whew! Having that awareness, maybe I actually have a chance at this really hapening.
Now I can go over the cliff, embarking on the new adventure, but my sound advice to myself is that I'd better be on belay and have a damn good belayer. To leave the place of of "this isn't working and I want something different" to "I'm there and man, does this feel GOOD!", there's the not-so-little matter of crossing the space in between: The Abyss. Peering into the depths of it I see the wreckage of past years, even past months. It's not fun to look at and less fun to remember. YIKES!
The truth of getting the reliable belayer is that she's not far away. I stand in her shoes. No one is responsible for keeping my committment to be on belay other than myself. The farther away from myself I attempt to go to hang responsibility for this venture, the longer I'll put off my dream until it becomes too late. Trust me, I've done it far too many times, with miserable results. With myself now as belayer, how do I do that well, instead of turning into my own saboteur?
Tune in tomorrow!
Going over the edge of the cliff into commitment is quite the experience.
The reason I start with "the 'C' word: It's a place many of us run from. Yeah, I'm definitely NOT satisfied with where I am and want I the good stuff so bad I can taste it! I'll make that list of everything I'm going to do, things I know have worked in the past and absolutely WILL work today and tomorrow. I will begin with sparkling dreams and gusto through each day for a certain period of time, plunging through all kinds of adventures to come closer to attaining my prize. I'll start to get results and pat myself on the back for the results I've created. People will even compliment me and it feels like I'm on a roll.
Then something happens.
Before long I'm feeling the same way I did prior to embarking on the journey: disgusted with myself.
WHAT HAPPENED? I tell myself that somewhere along the way, THIS (whatever circumstance feels the most believeable) happened. Yup, that was it and I'm sticking to my story. It could be any one of a slew of circumstances (we all have our favorites), some of which might seem very understandable as to why I abandonded my ship. Even sadder is the fact that I didn't even throw myself a rope so I have a chance of being on board again. I just let myself go. It's then months and maybe even years before I attempt this project again.
The plain and simple fact here is that I surrendered my commitment.
Today I know that none of the reasons why I lost my grip even matter. None of the reasons why I didn't ask for support while I was falling don't matter either. Plain and simple, instead of recommiting, I gave up on myself. Instead of keeping my word TO ME, I let my dream fall farther and farther, eventually disappearing sight.
Wow, sit and breathe with that one for a moment, Lynds.
Admitting that fact is the first step to a major rewire in this area for me. Honesty is good medicine! It may be the first handhold that would save the sinking dream. Whew! Having that awareness, maybe I actually have a chance at this really hapening.
Now I can go over the cliff, embarking on the new adventure, but my sound advice to myself is that I'd better be on belay and have a damn good belayer. To leave the place of of "this isn't working and I want something different" to "I'm there and man, does this feel GOOD!", there's the not-so-little matter of crossing the space in between: The Abyss. Peering into the depths of it I see the wreckage of past years, even past months. It's not fun to look at and less fun to remember. YIKES!
The truth of getting the reliable belayer is that she's not far away. I stand in her shoes. No one is responsible for keeping my committment to be on belay other than myself. The farther away from myself I attempt to go to hang responsibility for this venture, the longer I'll put off my dream until it becomes too late. Trust me, I've done it far too many times, with miserable results. With myself now as belayer, how do I do that well, instead of turning into my own saboteur?
Tune in tomorrow!
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
How Lynds Got Her Bod Back: Day 1
I really don't even know how to begin this, so here goes....
How Lynds Got Her Bod Back......what's that about?
Actually right now I have no idea, except just one:
Commitment. Whatever I decide to do to get my body back, I will do for a year. That span will provide me with some time to get there-- and time to hang out and feel what it's like maintaining that place. A year from now on 11/11/10, I will be looking back on "The Year I Took My Bod Back".
Will it inspire anyone? Dunno. Will I be a better person for having given myself to the journey? Absolutely. Why?
Simply because it's TIME. I am 51 years of age. I have two exceptional grown children, a son-in-law and 2 adorable grandchildren. I'm in my 2nd marriage to a wonderful man, teach a group of amazing string students and am a dynamic life coach. I'm 5'9" and today, I'm weighing in at 181 lb.
I want my body back.
Although this year will be about doing the things to shed the weight and get a healthier, flexible, more resilient body, I already know FAR more than that will be involved. I'm a person who likes taking life DEEP and my present quest is no different. It's NOT about skimming the surface of "going on a diet" and performing a regular exercise regimen. I think that's why so many folks (myself included) who lose weight this way, gain it back sooner than later. I'm looking for a lifestyle change that will stay with me the rest of my days. I have been heavy most of my life and enjoyed being slender and fit too seldom in my 51 years. There is a price I've paid for being heavy that long, as well as a mindset and way of life that comes with with it. I also have a feeling like I'm on the verge of a revolution.
A REVOLUTION. What's different today is that I'm going to let my commitment transform me. I'm putting that concept to the test. Letting my commitments transform me. Oh, oh...SO easier said than done! So to up the anty, I'm trapping myself into this in a rather big way: I am actually exposing myself to public view as I undertake all this, something I would have fled from years ago. Yup, if I don't tell anyone I can let this commitment slip away the first time I'm pushed into an uncomfortable place and there will be no consequence.
Except with my body, of course. WHO DID I THINK I WAS KIDDING? The consequence: I land back at square one. Yeah, no one will know, except the most important player: ME. There's a part of me ranting: "You're effing crazy". Uh huh, the part that wants the status quo. "Don't rock the boat, we're doing just fine." More about that part in subsequent posts.
I look at today's date: 11/11/2009. Three elevens. They look like portals to me. One for the past, one for the present, one for the future. The place I hope to spend most of my waking hours is TODAY, and each today I encounter this year. More specifically, the present moment. Right now, RIGHT NOW. One day at a time, one moving moment at a time.
That's the first place I think I'll get my bod back: the present moment. The place where I can best be IN my body. The only place, really.
Hmmm, IN my body. That's the place I'm starting first. A commitment to be in my body.
How Lynds Got Her Bod Back......what's that about?
Actually right now I have no idea, except just one:
Commitment. Whatever I decide to do to get my body back, I will do for a year. That span will provide me with some time to get there-- and time to hang out and feel what it's like maintaining that place. A year from now on 11/11/10, I will be looking back on "The Year I Took My Bod Back".
Will it inspire anyone? Dunno. Will I be a better person for having given myself to the journey? Absolutely. Why?
Simply because it's TIME. I am 51 years of age. I have two exceptional grown children, a son-in-law and 2 adorable grandchildren. I'm in my 2nd marriage to a wonderful man, teach a group of amazing string students and am a dynamic life coach. I'm 5'9" and today, I'm weighing in at 181 lb.
I want my body back.
Although this year will be about doing the things to shed the weight and get a healthier, flexible, more resilient body, I already know FAR more than that will be involved. I'm a person who likes taking life DEEP and my present quest is no different. It's NOT about skimming the surface of "going on a diet" and performing a regular exercise regimen. I think that's why so many folks (myself included) who lose weight this way, gain it back sooner than later. I'm looking for a lifestyle change that will stay with me the rest of my days. I have been heavy most of my life and enjoyed being slender and fit too seldom in my 51 years. There is a price I've paid for being heavy that long, as well as a mindset and way of life that comes with with it. I also have a feeling like I'm on the verge of a revolution.
A REVOLUTION. What's different today is that I'm going to let my commitment transform me. I'm putting that concept to the test. Letting my commitments transform me. Oh, oh...SO easier said than done! So to up the anty, I'm trapping myself into this in a rather big way: I am actually exposing myself to public view as I undertake all this, something I would have fled from years ago. Yup, if I don't tell anyone I can let this commitment slip away the first time I'm pushed into an uncomfortable place and there will be no consequence.
Except with my body, of course. WHO DID I THINK I WAS KIDDING? The consequence: I land back at square one. Yeah, no one will know, except the most important player: ME. There's a part of me ranting: "You're effing crazy". Uh huh, the part that wants the status quo. "Don't rock the boat, we're doing just fine." More about that part in subsequent posts.
I look at today's date: 11/11/2009. Three elevens. They look like portals to me. One for the past, one for the present, one for the future. The place I hope to spend most of my waking hours is TODAY, and each today I encounter this year. More specifically, the present moment. Right now, RIGHT NOW. One day at a time, one moving moment at a time.
That's the first place I think I'll get my bod back: the present moment. The place where I can best be IN my body. The only place, really.
Hmmm, IN my body. That's the place I'm starting first. A commitment to be in my body.
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