A Hell of a Year (and it's only August)

It has been a very long time since I posted last, and I thought that maybe it's time once again.

2020 is turning out to be just a hell of a year.  I guess, for me, that actually things started to go awry last year, which I thought was ALSO a hell of a year.  Or a year of hell.  Whichever.  Or possibly the last 4 years.  The Trump years.  Years of hell.  

I won't apologize for feeling that he has done irreparable damage to America.  But in doing so, he has held up the dark mirror for us to see -- in full color, vivid sound, 3D, and all -- what the tangled threads of racism, unfettered crony capitalism, rampant cultish religiosity divorced from any morals, authoritarianism, sexism, outrageous egotism, american "exceptionalism",  hollowed out educations,  greed, willful ignorance, and zero commitment to universal good -- where it has all gotten us as a nation.  

Perhaps we needed this full reckoning because we (and I'm speaking mainly about straight white cis folk) have been so sound asleep, so complacently NOT LISTENING.  People all over the world have persistently ignored, denied, negated, and crushed people of color - people of difference - people perceived as Other.  The nations are finally waking up.  I only hope that we do not have to go through a complete societal collapse to get through to the other side of this.  But I suspect we will.

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I was going to go further off along this side-track, but I remembered that I can't speak for anyone except myself.  And I am so tired.  I feel overwhelmed by what is going on all over the world -- the pandemics of not only disease but of authoritarianism, of war, of environmental collapse, of extinctions, of pointless technologies.  I am worried for my children and grandchildren.  What kind of world did we give them?  Was I selfish to even bring them into the world?

And on top of that, the work that I love, the craniosacral therapy that I have been studying and practicing for the last ten years, caused me harm about a year ago.  Or it released something harmful in my brain that still has me fatigued, clumsy, stuttering, and unbalanced.  I compare what happened to having every head injury I ever had all coming back to haunt me at once.  Like I needed that as some kind of healing crisis.  

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I'm not even sure where I was going with all of this.  Maybe it's just that I wanted to point out that I am getting a very hard dope-slap on the fact that I have no ability to be in control of anything anymore.  I can't even have the illusion of having any control.  Everything is being stripped out.  Out of habit and attitude, I am fighting this loss.  But I know it is winning when I understand that I can barely make a plan for dinner let alone plan a week.

So I try to take some small joy in every day, whether it is a flower or a lizard or a bird that stops by the feeder.  It really is the little things.

this little face in the rearview

this rainbow

this ratatouille my daughter made for me

these tiny lizards

peace

How Many More?

The day after the mass murder in Orlando, Florida.

I want to know why we have had 133 mass murders in 164 days already this year.

I want to know why the US has not removed, confiscated, melted down automatic weapons, machine guns, assault rifles, etc from the population.

I want to know why Americans are obsessed with guns and gun ownership.

I want to know why anyone feels the need to kill with impunity.

I want to know why people are allowed to own, sell, gift, use machine guns.  What possible use do they have?

I want to know why we do not have a law that says that if a politician wants to wage war, they must go into hand to hand combat with their opponent.  I want to know why we subject innocent people to warfare when we have no quarrel with each other.

I want to understand why people feel they must make everyone else conform to their own vision of the world;  why it seems so impossible to live and let live, to do no harm.

I want to understand why so many people are living in fear, and why so many people feel the need to act out in extreme violence because they do not feel heard, or recognized.

I want to know why the abrahamic religions are all interpreted through the lens of intolerance.

"Thoughts and Prayers"  useless claptrap without community action.

Losing a friend

On the left:  Gurubhai Khalsa, aka Francisco Lochen
Teacher, colleague, friend

My dear Gurubhai:

Many blessings to you on your transition from this physical plane!  I am filled with gratitude for the learnings you imparted to me, and for allowing me to be one of the people who witnessed you on your journey through cancer, through suffering, through anger, into love, into letting go, into light.

I can feel you near me sometimes, and your being is so much a sensation of love.  I deeply thank you for sharing all that you did with me.

If I don't see you again on this plane of existence, I'll see you on the other side.  I love you.

The broken heart

In the past two months, havoc has broken out around me.  My partner fell and broke his hip, requiring surgery and months of rehab.  At the same time, I got really ill with the flu.  And then we found out that my step-son had been brutally murdered.  My neighbor, an elderly widow, called me desperately one night because she had fallen in the yard and couldn't get her legs under her to stand up.  I found one of my house-call clients wandering around her house, incoherent and severely hypoxic, and had to get her to the hospital.

In the midst of all this, I found out by accident that I have high blood pressure, and this led to testing of my blood and heart, and of course all the things I don't want to hear about:  abnormal test results, abnormal EKG.  It turns out that everyone in my family, even my slender, exercise-obsessed sister, has high blood pressure and high cholesterol.  It's just genetic.

I was scolded into losing weight (even though I eat well and not excessively) and into taking a blood-pressure medicine, and made to feel very bad about a lot of things that I really have no control over.  I have a nearly pathological fear of being scolded, and my doctor took advantage of that to bully me into a state of fear, even though in reality I was feeling just fine and I'm pretty fit despite carrying some extra weight.

Bodyworkers had been identifying something very stuck around my heart as well -- fascia?  emotional blockage?  We couldn't identify it.  But coming up this summer, three very large events are headed this way:  my youngest child graduating from high school; my youngest daughter getting married; and my trans-son getting his top surgery, all in the space of three weeks.  Thoughts of my late ex-husband keep burbling up, because he can't be here to participate in the joyous and profound changes in our family.  I have been feeling a lot of guilt surrounding his death, because I felt as if he died of a broken heart (from our difficult divorce).

I have been doing my best to "let go and let God", reveling in the scent of the fruit trees flowering, the new growth of spring, the diverting fun of irrigation, but I could not shake that feeling of somehow being unable to fully enjoy my life anymore.  Yesterday, though, with all of this STUFF, I went to my counselor, and he took me into a profound meditation that he called "Let's Die a little". He had me relax while he spoke about me as if in a eulogy, and I was allowed to just drift and connect with the spirit part of myself.

The most amazing thing happened.  I was truly able to see and profoundly feel that the physical incarnation of me is just the smallest thing.  This person who cares for her children, who is a therapist, who gardens, who worries about being alone, who has pets and a house and bills and the thousand other things... she is tiny; she needs and deserves protection, compassion, unconditional love and nonjudgement.  Through the meditation, I was able to surround my small self with the universal love and connectedness of my dream-self/spirit-self.  For the rest of the day, I felt so happy, connected, and as if I had found the "right" medicine for my soul.  My body felt lighter, as if the load of living had been lifted, because I recognized that very little if any of what bothers "small-me" matters at all.

The archetype of the Wounded Healer is a common one among people who care for others as I do.  And most recently, when I meditated on my own broken heart, I saw hundreds and thousands of butterflies emerging from the break.  I believe there is great power in this, even if I do not fully understand the vision yet.

What I do know is that transformation is possible through the power of what we tell ourselves, what we tell others about ourselves, and how deeply we allow ourselves to let go of this small world and embrace the Universe.

Losing Focus, Finding Rest

I had planned a two week road trip to the canyon lands of southern Utah and northern Arizona in order to get away from work.  Then assaults on our time began to pick away at both ends of the vacation.  I knew I had to stand really firmly in order to maintain what time we had left, or the time was just going to disappear.

In the mean time, I worked hard to squeeze in clients before I left, also committing to two major health fairs and teaching a class in July as well.  To say that I was overloaded is certainly an understatement.  I wasn't sleeping well.  My neck and shoulder were in a nearly constant state of bothersome pain despite seeing the chiropractor and getting bodywork regularly.  The mindful part of myself was yelling at me to pay attention, but the dutiful/"responsible" part of me was overriding my good sense, worried about the bills and the family issues. 

Finally, we managed to get on the road.  It took three entire days for my nervous system to really ramp down.  We were taking our time and beginning to remember that we were not in any hurry.  We delighted in the freedom that we had to notice our surroundings, to go slowly, and to let go of any sense of having to "do" anything.  We hiked barefoot, rested in shady streams, drew and wrote and painted.

from Zion National Park (NPS site)

On the morning of the 5th day, I had taken a few photos of the campsite where we slept the night before, and absent-mindedly left the camera on top of the car.  I don't know how we both missed it during the entire time we were breaking down the campsite and re-packing the car, but we did.  I didn't notice until the next day that the camera was missing, and by then it was way too late.  On the day I lost it, the skies opened up in terrific thunderstorms too, so even if the camera wasn't destroyed by the fall, the rain certainly would have ruined it.

Of course I was pretty sad.  I thought of all the pretty photographs I had taken that I wanted to show off to my family. But -- why exactly was I so upset? 

Did it mean that the trip hadn't happened if I didn't have pictures to "prove" I was there? 
Did it mean that I hadn't seen all the wonderful scenery or done all the sketching?
Have I gotten so reliant on the camera that my memory is lazy?

Later that morning, we were sitting and sketching along a canyon rim, and I was still sort of sniffly about my camera.  My partner remarked that the landforms attract us to them, and part of the attraction lies in the knowing that we cannot possess what they offer us.  We recognized in that moment that the camera gives us the illusion of capture, of possession, of ownership.  A photograph is the modern (and less destructive) equivalent of the mounted trophy -- "proof" of capture and conquest.

We listened to the hikers who passed us, nearly all of whom were looking for that perfect shot; the "hike-and-snap" people were not really seeing the scenery.  They were looking for the grand overviews, which in truth were fairly repetitive.  My partner and I were sitting for extended times with the landscape, and therein came the next epiphany; that it was only in sharing that time that the landscape really begins to come to life.  We saw how the rocks and their shadows evoked images of human figures, animals, kachinas, and fantastic hybrid creatures.  We could listen to the rocks, the trees, the birds, the water, and hear something more ancient and more permanent than our puny selves.  I lost my camera, but I found grace, and profound rest.

I believe that it was truly a blessing for me to have forgotten my camera.  Only by losing it could I allow that part of myself that was always looking for that "perfect moment" to die away, and in doing so, allow myself to recognize that every moment is new, and perfect, and graceful.  I will carry many sweet memories of our trip in my heart, in my sketches and paintings, but most of all I will carry the energy of this trip forward in the way I go about life: relaxed in the knowledge that things are simple:  just pay attention, be present, be a witness.

Loving What Is

(also published in slightly different form in Truly Alive Magazine)

Body dysmorphia is an enemy of contentment in the physical manifestation of our identities.

Certain forms of dysmorphia are pretty well known, such as anorexia, in which a person literally perceives themselves as overweight even as they may be starving to death. Other people become fixated with one “imperfect” body part, and may go to extremes to hide or “fix” what they perceive to be broken. Body dysmorphia has a high association with major depression and suicide. Relatively “minor” dysmorphic sensations are strongly correlated with high levels of anxiety and social withdrawal.

What has been making the news lately is a gender identity that differs from the body a person was born into. It’s not just Caitlyn Jenner and Chaz Bono, but a long list of people who have opened up about being transgender. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_transgender_people). Many people are responding to the celebrity changes dismissively, as if it were a publicity stunt. Others erupt into flames of hatred for a variety of different reasons; anywhere from “It goes against the Bible” to “Men just feel like they can take over everything, even being a woman!” As usual, only the loudest or most famous voices in any argument are heard; we rarely get to hear from the ordinary person going through an extraordinary situation. Transgender people have been around as long as people themselves have been around — we just haven't heard their voices.

I believe that the new openness surrounding gender and identity is very challenging for a lot of people. It is a tender issue that might bring up our own internal doubts and fears about who or what we are, or how we identify ourselves. Just as the issue of gay marriage frightens many people, as if suddenly they themselves might somehow be forced into marrying someone of their own sex, many people are afraid that transgender people will somehow contaminate or coerce others into being transgender. We don’t even seem to have fully gotten past the notion that homosexuality is not a lifestyle choice. If someone else’s personal identity frightens you, it might be time to meditate or reflect on where that fear comes from.

In keeping with my normal emphasis on ruthless self-awareness, you might find it useful to check in with yourself. Ask yourself if you are living a life of deep authenticity. If not, what changes would you need to make in order to be fully yourself? Does the idea (of allowing yourself to be fully who you are) disquiet you? Try probing around the edges of your discomfort to find out the shape and form of this shadow part of yourself. This unacknowledged, hidden force needs to become integrated with your public face, not avoided. It can be a source of great creativity and personal power. Learn to explore these parts of yourself that feel dangerous and unstable. Learn to love all the aspects of yourself. “A whole and balanced self is a reconciliation of all parts, an inner unification. It is not an indulgence of the darker parts of our natures, but an acceptance and direct experience of them in the light of mindful awareness and deep honesty.” (http://lonerwolf.com/shadow-self/)

It is not always an easy process to do this.  I know and understand that for me personally, self awareness can be a painful and bewildering growth process.  In this case, it is one I have had to do most recently -- full disclosure now-- one of my children just came out as transgender.  I have had to delve into my deepest parts and let go of fears I didn't even know I had in order to unconditionally love and accept and support my firstborn child.  Love was the easy part, but full acceptance?  That was more difficult in the short term.  A comadre who is a counselor was the biggest help to me when she reminded me that my child's journey in life was not MY journey.  She advised me to talk to Spirit in order to come into full acceptance.  I was able to go into a deep meditation, and ask for help from Spirit in letting go of my fears and being able to return to the place of deepest mother-love, and that was such a relief to do.  I am proud of my child, and I deeply admire the strength and personal integrity it took for him to come out of hiding. 

Every person's soul-contract is their own, and from this side we cannot know or understand all the complexities of that process.  What I do know is that we all get the choice to learn and grow, or to stay still and stagnant, or even to undo our learnings throughout our lives.  If we are fortunate enough to increase our level of consciousness (higher than simple survival mode), we can truly make good and helpful choices for ourselves, and we can also understand and accept that the people around us are making their own choices from their own level of consciousness too.  We can stand in neutral and loving acceptance of what is.

Work/Life

I'm certain that I am not the only one who struggles with the balancing act we call modern/western life.  I've been thinking about this in particular because I live in a nearly 40 year old double-wide trailer with a perpetually leaky roof, and I have also been reading a biography of the painter, Renoir, written by his son. 

Renoir lived through the arrival of the industrial revolution, seeing how it displaced artisans, farmers, craftspeople and traditions, even as it brought more affordable goods to more people.  The loss of individuality of dress (recognizable by profession, for example, or by the good tailoring whereby a suit might be worn by 3 generations of fathers and sons), the loss of artistry in ceramic decoration and in murals (to be replaced by cheaply printed plates and wall paper), and the loss of the closeness of people to their livelihoods (living above one's shop, for example) are all losses which I believe we still feel as a society... and we have not found anything to replace them.  There has been a dis-integration and dis-connection of people from the lives we lead.  Where is the value in reality television or being a sports fan?

When I live in a cheaply manufactured home as I do, no matter how much time, money, and effort I invest in keeping it from falling apart, the fact is that the house was never meant to last.  It was not built to stay in a family for generations.  Trailers are made to be temporary shelter, used for a short while until a permanent home could be constructed.   The fact that so many people never actually attain the "real" home, and stay stuck in decrepit, rotting, disintegrating structures, is an artifact not only of the debts we incur just to find shelter, but also that our entire system is geared against any one person's ability to build their own place.  We are stuck on the treadmill of work, trying to earn enough money to keep paying our bills, and not having enough time or daylight, let alone energy, to invest in ourselves. 

What good is it for people to struggle so much for a home that isn't even going to keep its value?   Isn't your home supposed to be that place of solidity, of refuge, of safety?  Will I never realize my goal of being able to live in a solid warm home, with my garden and farm animals, where people who need to see me could sit with me first in my garden, or inside by a fire, to feel the earth, to feel the safety and sacredness of the space, before we get down to work?

I have written before about my struggles with time, seasons, and the need to do things while they are fresh and need to be done -- for example, when it's time to harvest fruit, or time to prune the trees, I feel an overwhelming urge to cancel all my clients and do the seasonal tasks so that my family and I will eat well over the winter.  Maybe some people will even understand that.  But what about when it is time to paint, or write, or meditate?  These are things that do not fit into a schedule, no matter how much the life coaches tell you that you can schedule time to work it into your day.  If a thought or line pops into your mind while you are driving the 30 miles to work, how are you supposed to catch it without stopping?

I know I ask a lot of questions for which there are no easy answers.  My hope is that in doing the asking, that maybe the Universe will hear me, and guide me.

Finding Purpose

There are times when I feel really overwhelmed by the world.  There is too much news from too many sources.  There are too many people with too much drama who aren't really interested in solving their own problems.  I find myself wishing for retreat, whether physically leaving town to go into nature, or to go into meditation.  And when I am feeling this way, overwhelmed, it seems that the meditation becomes more difficult, because my chattering brain wants to keep talking instead of getting still.  There's so much to do!  So many appointments to remember!  Friends to worry about!  Global warming!  Oil spills!  Extinctions!  And then, I find it impossible to paint or write poetry, because I can't get in touch with that part of my being when the noise of the world is so intrusive.

In the midst of all this, last week, I was asked by a mentor to say, in one simple word or phrase, what it is that I "do".  I had a lot of trouble thinking.  I have always used the word "facilitator," as in "someone who makes things easier".  I have used the term, "compassionate witness," because the majority of what I do for people is listen to them -- to the literal words, the underlying meaning, and what the body tells me.  But I also teach, write, paint, channel, and do ceremony. 

My mentor disliked the word "facilitator" because it carries the connotation for everyday people of conferences and someone who doesn't "do" much except organize events.  She wanted me to engage in another way of accessing what I do that encompasses all of the things I do in service to the community and to the world at large.  So what she told me to do was to light the sahumerio and ask the smoke for guidance and wisdom.

sahumerios in action

 I was feeling still very uncertain about that, being somewhat out of sorts with my intuitive side.  So to avoid "going deep," I instead asked people on Facebook to give me their ideas.  The word facilitator came up again, as did the words intuitive, love, soul, peace, spiritual guidance, and finally an old friend suggested the word, "awakener."  I really liked that one, because it seemed to have an overarching theme that might touch on many aspects of my work.  However, in doing this asking, I felt as though I had cheated, because I hadn't gone into my own spiritual space to discover my own essence and purpose.

Finally, I felt ready to ask the smoke.  And the answer came very quickly:  I am someone who opens the way.

Wow.  That fits on every level.  I do not have to clear the way, I do not have to show the way, I do not have to guide people on the way.  I open the way, and then each person then gets to own their own part of their journey, to choose whether or not to step up and enter the way that is opened to them.  Whether it is through bodywork, plática (heart to heart open discussion), intuitive channels, teachings, or art and poetry, I get to do my part and anyone who interacts with me then also gets to do their part.

I believe it is deeply important that each person find for themselves what their life purpose is.  For some people, that knowledge comes early; for others like myself, it comes later.  But it can only come when we can have space and time and desire to know, as well as the willingness to go deeply within and let go of all the chatter of surface level anxieties, to-do lists, and the "shoulds" of our lives.  This requires that we do our own work to feel safe with change, safe with ourselves.  It may require a willingness to put everything on the altar as a sacrifice, and see what remains for you;  in other words, a willingness to understand that everything in your life is something you could ultimately choose to walk away from.  It can be very frightening to think of losing your comfortable rut, but I don't think change ever comes from staying comfortable. 

Every person has to discern their own desires for comfort, for change, and for growth, and to balance those needs with patience for the process and the unfolding of your own personal wisdom. 

Here is a great link to a page that explains the meanings of the 4 directions.  When I meditate, I always ask each of the directions, plus sky, earth, and my own heart for guidance.  Aztec Medicine Wheel

Many blessings.