Climbing Trees

    Today in Mexico, folks celebrate the Day of the Dead.  I don’t know what this holiday feels like for those who don’t have any Dead.  For me, it feels like old home week.  I like the tradition of setting out pictures and decorating with flowers.  Some people cook special foods.  For the past couple of evenings, I have burned candles in honor of my family members who have passed on.  It’s nice to once again have something to do for them.  It’s been such a long time since I have seen them.  I have been telling my daughter happy stories of times together with them and describing traits that she shares with each of them.
    There were six in my family of origin.  Growing up, that number felt tangible – two of each plus Mom and Dad.  When we were all together we felt full and robust, and when there started to be spouses, our gatherings felt like parties.  We loved to get together, and we were enough.  (We always called boyfriends and girlfriends "spouses" even before they actually were.)  I remember after they first passed feeling acutely aware of our much reduced number.  We who remained were incomplete and not nearly enough.  Over the years we have added actual spouses, extended family, and GRANDKIDS!  It’s been a while now, and we feel full again – different, but mostly enough.  Somehow, this year during this time of remembering, I have had moments where I feel full in the old way.  Hard to put into words, but precious to live through.  It feels like a visit, not just from my Dear Ones, but from a time that has passed.  Somehow, I get to be me now but also me then, before it ever occurred to me that it all could change.  For a moment here and there, I feel it, and the feeling tastes sweet.  Rather than being a only memory, the experience is somehow fresh and lovely – for a moment.
    So for the remaining day or so, I will continue to climb our family tree – feeling like one of six for the first time in fifteen years and enjoying the view.  My Dad used to feed ice cream sandwiches to our fat happy dog.  He (both of them) loved it.  That dog outlived my Dad.
    Blessed be.

What Dreams May Come

    I haven’t posted anything in quite a while.  I began writing one or two ideas, but nothing  materialized.  My life in these weeks has been full of soccer games (!), board meetings, major construction, two weddings performed, meeting with clients, and of course, my favorite, medication change hijinks. (Steroids and sleep – why can’t we all just be friends?)  On top of that, in the last week, I really noticed the lack o’ blog.  That in itself became a thing.
     “Why am I not writing? Folks won’t keep reading if you stop writing. Product girlfriend. You need product!” (I don’t even try to sound enlightened when I have inner conversations. Gets stuck in my teeth.)
    To give myself credit, (and why wouldn’t I?) I realize that blogging or not blogging is not really the thing.  I write about what I am thinking about.  I write when I have something to say.  The anxiousness was really about a stuckness in my inner process. 
    So, I did some inner work yesterday morning, and I definitely feel more lined up.  No question that clarity came. It’s just that, at first, I didn’t want to hear it.  That’s actually not true.  A part of me loved hearing it.  My body exhaled.  I took a walk.  I could breathe.  I felt a flush of energy come into my body.  It’s just my ego self that had been resisting getting with the program.
    How unusual.
    What I heard was that it’s not time to manifest a BIG NEW IDEA. That’s when I noticed that it’s big, fat glorious Fall out here!  No question that the movement in Nature is downward and inward.  No question that rest and detoxification and being here now are what my body wanted to be doing right then.  As usual, as soon as I surrendered to what felt right to do, rather than what felt like pulling teeth to do, things opened up and creativity started flowing again.
    I realized there was no need for a big new idea.  I already had it.  I have known for some time what I want to do next.  I have heard it clearly a couple of times while journaling and praying.  When I think about the books I have bought and the conversations I have most enjoyed in the past couple of years, all of this makes a great deal of sense.  I am already doing what I am supposed to be doing next.  Sitting here now, I can’t believe that yesterday I was still wringing my hands and writing in my journal, “what’s next for me?”
    I have had plenty of inspiration, I just kept denying it.  That’s right. When inspiration finally came, my first impulse was to give it back! I guess I needed to sit with it for a while.  I needed to take the next step of acknowledging my commitment to moving forward on the idea. And come to think of it, I also needed that commitment to include moving forward on the idea in balance with what my body needs to be well.  The cosmology of Chinese acupuncture holds the energy of Fall as one of sorting through and determining the value of things – what to keep, what to throw away.  That process of bringing myself in tune with Nature and then listening to my inner voice represents the core of the work I have been doing for several years now, and yet it never fails to amaze me.  There is so much to discover in this life! Blessed be.

Zelda Mae Dance

    I have noticed a lot of working through going on right now.  Storm and earthquake recovery and repair goes on all around us – structures damaged by shaking and wind, water damage, canceled events, not to mention unscrupulous insurance providers.  Money concerns continue to press us, and organizations face cutbacks and closures.  As usual, I won’t even mention the shenanigans going on in Congress, except to wonder if a tree has to fall on their houses in order for them to cut the crap and get to governing.
    I was driving down the road the other night on the way to a meeting about a legal dispute when the song, “Shake Your Groove Thing,” came on the Ipod.  I had a fairly intense visceral impulse to jump out of the car and dance.  I could feel how good it would feel, in my body, to shake my, well, you know.  Of course, I didn’t.  The first thought I had after that was, “You’ve got to go to this meeting.” Of course, I did, but the experience stayed with me.  I remembered it several times through the evening and wondered what it meant. 
    I realize now that part of me really wants to cut loose and have some fun.  Yet, another part of me wonders if it’s ok to stop thinking (and let’s face it worrying) about the issues at hand long enough to have fun.  Of course, as soon as the words come fully to the surface of the consciousness, the answer seems obvious.  Clearly, dealing with serious matters in no way requires us to surrender joy.  In fact, I would suggest quite the opposite.  Emotional resilience comes from balancing the serious with the less so.  My logical mind knows this quite well, and yet, I notice at times an unconscious impulse to pull myself back.  I am working with it.  Like most feelings, observing moves it, and right now, I am looking forward to a weekend of family and friends and a wedding that I am performing for two of my beloveds.
    I knew a woman once who gave herself the name Rose May Dance when she reached midlife.  I always liked it, and I get it now like never before.  So may I re-introduce myself?  Today, call me Zelda Mae Dance, and of course, you already know Peaches and Herb.

I'm Limited

    For weeks now, I have had that song from the Broadway play, Wicked, in my head.  The song begins with the main character singing, “I’m limited.” That line makes me feel emotional when I hear it.  I feel limited these days, and let’s just say I’m not hooked on that feeling!  I hate feeling like I can’t accomplish what I want to do.  When I make a mistake or I have to let go of something I wanted to do but don’t have the energy for, I find it difficult to live with.  Maybe better said, I find it difficult to live with how that makes me feel.
    How that makes me feel. And how exactly does that make me feel?    Disappointed with myself? Embarrassed?  Maybe at first, but that’s not what it boils down to for me.  Turns out, it scares me.
     Scares me?
    Well, yes. What will I do if I can’t do what I want to do right now? My mind begins racing down roads to nowhere or worse.  I wonder if this experience of limit will only lead to more of the same.  My Inner Critic helpfully offers some harsh self judgment words like lazy or failure.  Maybe I don’t get to live the life I am supposed to live.  It gets pretty ugly in there.
    Of course, my first response often involves shutting down emotionally.  The problem with that of course is that shutting down leads to stagnation and a failure to recognize rising energy when it comes. And it does come.  If I am closed down, I miss the opportunity for movement in a new direction – new ideas, new inspirations . . .
    Limited.
    Aren’t we all?
    It occurs to me that this conversation is about living within my emotional and physical means, and said that way, it sounds like a good thing.  Healthy boundaries are good, at least when we are talking about other people.  For ourselves, we’re supposed to refuse to be limited by the idea of our own limitations. And we wonder why the federal budget is such a mess.
    How can I live with my own physical and emotional limitations without unnecessarily limiting myself?  I struggle with this.  I know that the answer includes staying connected and present as I walk through the days.  When I notice myself struggling or shutdown, connecting with another person often helps me.  Sometimes, I can regain a sense of connection through journaling or prayer, but when I feel really bad, connecting with another person seems to work best.
    I confess that I wish that I didn’t have this struggle.  I wish I could simply do what I want when I want to, but the thing is:
    I’m limited.

Mama Mia

    I live on a lovely piece of land that I feel would appreciate far more nurturing from me than I give it.  So, as much as I love where I live (and I really do love it), I often feel like a bad parent when I drive down my driveway.  Sitting here today, I wonder if I sometimes avoid spending more time in my yard because of the ever present should do list I have for her in mind. 
    Yes, my yard is a She.
    Don’t start.
    Anyway, this weekend, one of my Circlesisters and I got together to mark the Autumnal Equinox.  Our circles usually involve a fair amount of yakking, noshing, tee drinking, and then some practice together in keeping with the season.  So yesterday during the pre-practice noshing and yakking, my Sister and I both acknowledged that we were coming to our Circle feeling somewhat depleted.  Both of us have a great deal on our minds and our agendas and feel busy with the day to day of our lives.  We, neither of us, felt we had a lot of energy to bring to our practice together.  So, we decided to go outside and sit together at the edge of the woods to meditate and pray.
    We picked a lovely corner in a northern point in my yard.  A lovely white Rose of Sharon blooms there in August.  I have always thought that place seemed like a gate to the woods beyond.  Rose of Sharon bloomed late this year, just in the last week or so.  The gray of the sky and the cool humidity of the day felt restful and hushed.  The still green leaves on the trees soothed the eyes and the mind. 
    We said a few words, lit a candle and some incense, sat and listened.  Eyes wise open, I looked into all of that green and felt enormous comfort and welcome.  I drank in the quiet and the gentle sounds of life proceeding quiet nicely all around me and remembered my place.
    I am a part of the web of life, and it does not revolve around me.  In that moment, nothing was required of me and yet I received so much – receive so much- from the life all around me.  I felt like a child happily playing in Mama’s back yard, and I remembered the contentment I feel when my child is happily playing in my yard.  Mother and daughter nurturing each other, in reciprocal relationship.  My co-dependent belief that I must always take care of distracts me from the rich experiencing of this moment on this land, together with all that is.  The equinox is about balancing – night and day, light and dark, nurturing and being nurtured. 
    Yesterday, I offered thanks for being nurtured, hanging out with Mama Mia.
    Blessed be.

Here Comes the Sun

    I walked outside.  My shoulders straightened.  My head lifted.
    Sun.
    It’s yellow, warm, suddenly Summer.
    Amazing how 92 straight days of rain (well it feels like 92) can begin to affect how you view your life.  I found myself wanting to burn candles and play Christmas music – my sure fire way to keep my spirits up during the darker winter months.  As ever, I am awed by the way change comes into the life.  All of a sudden, it’s like it’s always been this way.
    Rain?  What rain?  Maybe we should have a picnic.
    Once again, life reminds me to open myself to the possibility of the moment – this moment. And then the next.  I frequently say that I hate change.  Turns out, that’s not precisely true.  Not even close. 
    Here comes the Sun, and I say, I’m alright.

When Words Get in the Way

    For a while now,  I have suspected that I am tuned a little differently than most  people.  The words that get used and the way they resonate with me makes a huge difference in how I feel.  I have been accused from time to time by relatives (blood and otherwise) of being over sensitive, thin skinned, and occasionally even, overly suited to theatrical pursuits.  Sometimes, I have worried and suffered over what something gets called and what that means. In the context of illness, I am particularly aware that words mean things, imply consequences and possible outcomes that can be hard to live with.
    Too often, I find myself ruminating over a particular word or phrase.  Tones and attitudes play a part as well.  Feelings go with those thoughts – otherness, fear, helplessness,  anger, or even shame and humiliation.
    “Much too sensitive,” my ever vigilant inner critic offers helpfully in situations such as these.  “You need to learn to ignore those feelings – toughen up.  Get on with it.” 
    That’s how She rolls.
    Here’s the thing though, my wellness very much includes becoming more in tune with how things affect me, not less.  Times when I ignore how I feel often lead to inflammation and illness, I have discovered.  Of course, regularly turning off feelings turns out to be bad for lots of us, unless we like addiction, codependency, anger and victimhood.  I could go on, but there is no need for me to get militant.
    I comfort myself with the thought that words matter, and perhaps I am hearing nuances worth noticing.  This is not a wind up to a plea for political correctness.  Sometimes a well chosen word or phrase shines a light where I have avoided looking.  The clang of a naked truth reverberates and guides me towards good.
    It’s in the delivery I guess.  I hate the offhand macho attitude that shows up so often in medical settings.  Unchecked egos of doctors and nurses combined with disrespected staff persons create an environment that makes us want to apologize for troubling them or become belligerent and uncooperative because they deserve it.  I’ll own my part.  Seldom am I at my social best when I feel sick or scared. Or both.  I’ll wager that I am not alone in this regard.
    Still.  Most of us feel better when treated with dignity and respect.  In my experience, some of it begets more of it, in kind.  I heard Oprah say that everyone wants to receive the same message from her when they come on the show:
    I see you. I hear you. What you say matters to me. 
    Let the healing begin.