Engage With Grace

I was told about this project from a client of mine in Boston. It helped her lead the conversation with her parents about end of life issues.

http://www.engagewithgrace.org/

They use one slide to show the 5 questions to ask and discuss with your loved ones. They are provocative and personal questions that we should all look at and have documented.

From personal experience, I have seen how medical intervention and "saving lives at all costs" can interfere with a patient's quality of life. It is good to know before an emergency or end of life status what our preferences are.

Check out the site, use it and pass it on.
http://www.engagewithgrace.org/content/theoneslide.jpg

Some Perspective on Prop. 8

Unlike many of my friends and family, I am not devastated by Proposition 8 passing. I really didn't think we would be able to beat the millions of dollars pouring in from pulpits across America to advertise their "God given opinion." I realized a long time ago that I live in a bubble with my residence in the Bay area of Northern California. Like most cities, we screaming left liberals, gays, lesbians and transgender people have a safety net of numbers. Here we are safe by the fact that we are surrounded by own like minded compadres. Travel 100 miles east or north of the Bay area and we've got the rest of California. The rest of California who are surrounded by their own like minded compadres. These are farming, ranching communities. These are parts of sprawling suburbs. These are areas with different lifestyles and different values.

I drove north on Highway 5 this week from the bay area. The Vote Yes on 8 placards were on cars, lawns, buildings, bumpers. I didn't see one sign opposing Proposition 8 as I did my 6 hour drive to Oregon. Not one. As I passed by the cars, I looked at the drivers. They were just regular folks trying to get home from work, or maybe from picking their kids up from school. My guess is that if i met them in a social setting, they would be nice people. Good Christian folk people. I wondered if any of these placard owners actually knew a gay person. Because if you don't know a gay person, they can remain a pervert, a monster of some sort, something too different and scary from them. And they might pass it on...whatever it is that makes them gay, One woman looked over at me as I passed and I smiled and nodded. Part of me wanted to let her know that she had just been passed by a lesbian. And she survived.

The arguments I heard for Proposition 8 were mainly a defensive posturing against something they thought we would take away. There is so little understanding of lesbian and gay issues especially where our rights fall within the law. Throw in morality and our civil rights work sinks. I cannot get upset with this new development because we, lesbians, gays and transgenders are in a process. A very long process of being recognized as full citizens, being granted equal rights. We are so much closer than we have ever been. I remember our history. This is one good thing of being older. I remember the closet. And I know there are many people still living there. Like snails and tortoises we are making movement out of our shells, out of our safe neighborhoods of like mindedness. We are getting more activity in the courts. We are making progress.

When I really need some perspective, I think of my own mother. My very own mother who loved me dearly but it still took a solid two years before she could accept me as a gay woman. Two years of dealing with her own homophobia and disgust that a daughter of hers could be one of "those" people. My goal these days is to continue what Harvey Milk said in a speech close to 20 years ago. These were the words that gave me the courage to come out to my parents and to people around me. "If every one of you would come out of the closet and tell the person who means the most to you, that you are gay, we can make change. But you have to speak up. You have to come out of closet so we can be free." That is my plan to keep moving toward freedom.

Phooey!

I can hear my mother saying that in my head. "Oh Phooey!" She would say it in disgust, when something wasn't turning out the way she expected. Like when she would take a putt that leaned down the green instead of nearing the hole. "Oh Phooey!"Or when she dialed the wrong number in haste and couldn't get her bearings to redial.
This is my attempt to be lighthearted about my current state of mind. Even as I write this, I feel a bit lighter saying, "Oh Phooey!" My heart speaks of stronger words, of more turmoil than a stupid little saying like phooey.

I am no stranger to this feeling that I am currently underscored with. I was visiting my dad this weekend as I usually do once a month. But on this visit, he insisted on going through his little safe hidden away in the bedroom. My sisters and I have gone through and through this with him. But with his faltering memory, its a new experience every time he sees his important papers and he shows us, like Bill Murray's movie Groundhog Day - the same things over and over. This time though, I had happened to open the box with my mother's wedding ring in it. I don't know what happened but seeing it punched me with a physical force that took my breath away and caused the tears welled up. My dad was still fumbling away in the papers and I had to leave the room to let out a sob.

The grief visit has not left me but imbibes me with a lack of focus, shortness of attention and labile emotions that tell me to forget about wearing any mascara. I've stopped wondering why it comes up when it does. The bigger piece is to accept that it's here and that I'm not really of "right mind" in this state. Normally I would get angry with myself that I can't get it together and need to "settle down!" As I write that, I can also hear my mother saying THAT to me! "For Pete's sake, molly - settle down and get some work done!" But I can't today. No matter how many attempts I make to organize myself for my paycheck job or for my writing class tonight, I can't pull my attention from the space that is beyond words and more comfortable in tears and uninterrupted quietude. "Oh phooey. I'm losing a day of productivity. Phooey! Phooey! Phooey! And that's it.

The Olympics!!

I LOVE THE OLYMPICS!!!!

I love watching the athletes in all of their endeavors. The viewing was a bit skewed with NBC running the show but I watched as much as I could. I'm such an armchair athlete that I take full advantage of living vicariously through the different athletes. Then to have someone like Dara Torres touting her competitive abilities at 40 years old. "Right on!!" I say.

And how about the darlings of volleyball? Those women rock! I was screaming for the Belgium team that came out to win in their first set - playing beautifully and sending Misty May Treanor and Kerri Walsh hustling like I hadn't seen them work before. Then as Misty May said in their exit interview - "Well they woke up the sleeping tiger." In the second set - Belgium was squashed in a 10 minute volley and the Americans reigned once again.

The most often heard saying is along the same lines as Jamaican Usain Bolt's declaration, "Anything is possible if I put my mind to it." He had just won a gold medal for the 100 meter run. This is an Olympic's athlete mindset. We get to see a celebration of that discipline and focus in 10 days of physical activities. It's a great break for me from life as usual.

What Constitutes A Vacation?

I signed up with my partner, Noreen for the Bicycle Tour De Colorado. It was billed as a 7 day 403 mile bike ride with 38,000 feet of climbing. We did our training - we bought all the right stuff for the trip. I oxygenated with some kind of supplements that the guys at BikerRX swore by. I got bike fitted so I would have maximum efficiency. Yessiree - we were as ready as we could be.

NOT

We set off from Durango Colorado with 2000 other cyclists. I was amazed at the range of ages of people doing this ride. Mostly men though. We could tell by the fact that there was never a waiting line for the women's showers while the guys were standing 10 deep waiting for their turn. We were relentless in our taunting as they stood in the heat for their shower.

The first day I managed to get in 7000 feet of climbing before the words Uncle came to mind. I was saved somewhat by a horrendous hailstorm that hit us as we reached the Molas Divide summit. We were frozen and exhausted from the climb and the lack of air at 11,000 feet. U Haul trucks ferried us down into town - cutting off 26 miles of riding. I was lucky in that our truck driver left the back door open so we could see the cyclists continue their endeavors in the descent and then up Red Mountain. It convinced me that I would not have been able to finish that ride because of its difficulty.

The second day was easier as it was a flat ride to Montrose. I had enough juice in my legs that I did the 30 mile option up to Black Canyon once we got into town. The climb did not appear to be difficult but the altitude kept me gasping for air and taking breaks along with all the other folks NOT from Colorado.

The third day I started falling apart. My attitude stunk in the morning and I called a truce for my body. I took the sag wagon from the first aid station to the second one - missing a 3000 foot climb. I felt bad for a nanosecond as I watched people climb up to the summit from the truck. But fortunately I got over it with the use of good ol fashioned common sense. This ride was too much for me!! I rode down the 10mile descent and finished the rest of the ride into Telluride. I still had a fair amount of climbing to do but I felt refreshed when I came into town. Noreen did the whole thing and wasn't capable of walking around that night.

The fourth day we had a beautiful and easy ride into a sweet little nothing of a town called Naturita. We descended through lots of red rock canyon and streams. The town welcomed us with booths selling home made food - homemade goodies and just plain good ol hospitality. We also had a band playing and with opportunities to drink beer and sing karoke. Yes, those two I believe have to go together.

The fifth day was a hundred miler. We did great for most of it - including the climb out of Disappointment Valley. But both of us were feeling lots of butt pain - too many days in the saddle and not enough callouses so we jumped on the sag at mile 62. We were impressed with those who made it all the way in. It did not look easy with many rolling hills and ending with trafficked roads.

The sixth day was a beautiful one - riding out of Cortez back to Durango. The climbs were gradual but the scenery breathtaking. Things I learned on the trip was that I could do anything for a day - but 6 days in a row? Umm, questionable! I have a high whine factor that I'm not particularly proud of. I learned that I do a wonderful job living in the past and the future and not such a good job just living in the present moment. Especially if that moment has some discomfort in it!!!

I learned that a vacation is a time away from routines. A time for different perspectives and different experiences. A vacation is when I can spend money freely and not think twice about it. A vacation is when I can miss my friends and family. A vacation is when I can say over and over, "Oh. I wonder what it would be like to live here.... on a ranch...or over here....in this desert...or over here on a Navajo reservation..." A vacation is vacating one's responsibilities....

I did question myself on the validity of this vacation. Where was the pampering? The relaxing? The chilling out? Maybe its now - now that the adventure has been had and I gave it my best effort and managed to have fun in a physically stressful situation. Next year though, I think I'll go on a guided tour with fluffy hotel beds and room service!

But for this year, I have bragging rights to say I rode 311 miles and climbed 25,050 feet in 6 days in the beautiful Southwest area of Colorado. I know what I can do and what I cannot do!


http://www.flickr.com/photos/bike_tour/

Falling In Love the Peony Way

How can a flower sweep me away so profoundly? That is what happens every time I spend a little time gazing at the bouquet of peonies I bought. They start out tightly wad into that clenched perfectly round ball. I look at it and think, "Oh that will never open up...not these store bought versions." I can't imagine a flower able to continue its process after being cut from its root plant weeks earlier and shipped off to the various stores. Like little orphans waiting in its plastic sheathing..."Won't somebody take me home? Really. You won't believe what I can do when you place me in your watered filled vase. Pick me! Pick me!"

And so the budding flowers are in the vase and within hours, they start opening. It is so quick and beautiful in each movement. I am drawn to "being in the moment" with this flower. I walk into the kitchen with anticipation of what changes this full bosomy bud has gone through. I find myself pulled towards them to admire each movement in its sweet journey. Knowing this plant has such a short flowering time - about two or three weeks in June makes it all so much more special. The way this flower blooms with its abundant petals, leaning open with the sunlight and leaning closed for nighttime warmth, from bud to blossom and then waning depletion of its force of beauty. All this in a matter of 4 or 5 days. I'm taking a peony vacation and end up feeling honored and humbled to be part of its living journey.


I also feel extraordinarily blessed because it reminds me of how to live my life. With fullness and abundance. To take care in the evening and rest. To be patient with budding emergence of a bloom that I don't yet own. And to trust that life is the same for me as it is for a gorgeous flower. To be in the moment with each movement on whatever plane I'm conscious of. Yes. All this. And to think I got this wonderful experience from a small bouquet of flowers from Trader Joes for $6.99. If you hurry, there might be some left for another week. And after that....its another year before we see them again.

The Untethered Soul

I am reading a wonderful book a second time. It is rare that I close a book and immediately start from page one again. But this is a jewel that has increased my awareness and opened new doors of seeing. I've been able to bring this work into the Somatic Therapy I've been learning for the last year. It serves as a great adjunct to many spiritual programs.

He gives descriptions of the many facets of our personal beings. There is one chapter that is quite hysterical as he describes our chattering mind as the "neurotic roommate who won't shut up." The beauty of his view is that a deeper and more profound look emerges. Who watches this pesky mind? Who does the observing when we go into judgement or opinions? The book keeps bringing us back to the "Who Am I?" as he helps us fall behind the domineering mind and reminds us that above all we are soul.

Being at the bedside of those who die and leave their body is the most profound reminder of that very simple fact. We are soul first - birthed into human'ness and developed into people dealing with life on life's terms. Or not! The soul asks to be heard and given its place in our lives. If I can do that - moment by moment, I experience a different sense of freedom, one that is not borne of my senses, emotions or thoughts. There is less tethering to these senses, less attachment. I'm not saying I"m having an easy time doing this, because I am not. This leads me into a discussion of how somatic therapy works and why it is a necessary work for some people to be free to move ahead in their personal development.

When there is wounding/trauma from pre-adult years, there are memories stored in the physical body, energetic fields, and emotions. Somatic therapy touches those places with the intent to help them heal in a "nowtime" paradigm. It helps take unexplained emotions and compulsions to a field of understanding. It reaches deeper than intellectual understanding to the physical and energetic places. The tissue gets relief and it expands in new ways that it wasn't able to before, because there was an old force keeping it down. So while I love this book, it makes me cringe when I hear the words, "You just look this way." Ahhhh if only life were that simple. I can understand completely what I am doing, what the consequences are and yet I cannot stop myself from that action. The word "just" has a hundred miles of process between what I want to do and why I don't do it today.

This is why bodywork, coaching, therapy is such stimulating work for me. I love learning about any process that helps individuals move forward. Its a journey that can be as creative as it can be painful. Using the paradigm of Untethered Soul,helps soften the process into a place of "It's all good." We're human with fantastic frailties that make us reach out into community and relationships. Its the humanness of us all that makes life so interesting to observe. We just have to remember to watch the show and enjoy ourselves!

April 1, 2008

Its the one year anniversary of my mother's passing from this world on to the next. I told someone today that I am 'in memory' of witnessing a miracle this time last year. It's a miracle to me that a soul/spirit rises up and out of a human body. We witnessed her transformation and I felt her love and spirit linger in the hospital room as if to cloak us with a pure love energy. This energy that she embodied physically as Gloria McCormick. I'm not saying she was a saint or anything because the dear woman was human after all! She was my mother, my father's wife, my grandmother's daughter and on and on with the identities. Being human is experiencing all of our wonderful imperfection. I have been at the bedside of a few people and animals who have died and have the same experience every time. I feel sense of pure love energy. Its almost palpable and defies language or description. It just is. And it is wonderful. And it is a piece of life that all of us seekers search for, hoping to find snippets of it in daily life. When my mom died, I felt her. I felt her for months afterwards...that wonderful spirit reminding me that life is so much more precious than I give it credit for. So this morning when I woke up and thought about what kind of anniversary this is, I realized that I'm celebrating a miracle and I'm mourning a loss, all at the same time.

I can also see how I have changed in a years time. I reached a point of adulthood and responsibility that I didn't have before. I've fallen in love with my father and all of his frailties and a past that I just don't even care about anymore. I longed all my life for the relationship I have with him now . I have a father that has turned into the sweetest and most giving guy. He's still stubborn as hell and I'm still reduced to a "yes, dad" little girl resignation. But I have a father who tells me he loves me - a father that gets excited about activities I'm doing, even if he can't understand a thing about it - a father that is still protective and eager to give me advice. Maybe what's important is that I'm still able to enjoy him as my parent - something that was lost when Mom became an angel last year. Man! What a wild ride its been.

"I Don't Mind What Happens"

That was a phrase that came up in an online course I am taking. The Heart Rhythm Meditation class is a form of meditation that develops heart capacity and energy. I had two reactions to the statement. The first one was, "What a wonderful way to drop into acceptance" when applied to anything beyond the present moment. If I don't mind what happens, then it means that I'm flexible and open to the outcomes and the reality that I'm in. It means that I"m able to go with the flow and allow for a world beyond my own nose!

Now the flip side of that of course, is the ol' doormat syndrome. Something I've been intimately friendly with over the course of many years. Fortunately that side of me has grown and developed to a less passive state but its been lots of work becoming conscious and aware of fears, obstacles and other things that get in the way of standing up for ourselves. So the "Ohhhh I don't mind what happens," could be a danger flag that one isn't paying attention and will likely get smashed by some errant bulldozer. A small voice after being completely flattened weakly saying, "Hey - I think I do MIND that you're stepping all over me!" Its funny to have both perspectives going on with one statement.

How do we know which one we are operating from? Dropping into the sensations of our body can elicit the truth. It may be that both perspectives are operating at the same time. One of the things that is helpful for me is to think it through to an end, if possible. There are always scripts available - ones that just are about ourselves without anyone else involved - others are all about how we think another person will think or feel. We can have great fun with projection. But it rarely works because we don't ever know how another person is going to react or feel. Its their business. Our business to stay on our side of the street and assess whether we really don't mind what happens - or whether its a statement of complacency and resignation.

Isn't That Wonderful...

Oh I was in a BAAAAAD mood the other day. I couldn't really pinpoint the why's of this bad mood. But it followed me around - like little pigpen of a Charlie Brown cartoon. It dogged my thoughts, my energy. My mouth was tightened and muscles pulled down. It was an annoying way to go through my day and I wanted it changed!

I thought "Okay, I haven't had exercise in days. I need a walk. I need a walk in a beautiful place." And what a kwinky dinky that I was already in Marin. I headed to Tennessee Valley for a walk to the beach. It was grey but looked like we had a reprieve from the rain. Bundled up with cap and gloves, I started my stroll to the beach....the grumbling of my bad mood provided the soundtrack. My refrain to its dissonant tune was "Come on Molly! Enjoy the scenery. Look at the hills, they are finally green again! Notice the landscape and rest your eyes on the beautiful setting. Come on! Come on!"

I got out to the beach and there was a huge sand split with runoff water rushing out to the ocean. I couldn't pass over without taking my shoes and socks off and it was too cold for that. So I managed to get over to the side of the cliffs and find a dry spot to watch the waves and feel the surge of the ocean. "Ahhhh this is good. This is bigger than me. This is something I cannot control." I could take in the force of something that was beyond myself. As I took in the view and matched my mood with the ocean, I started laughing to myself. I imagined the ocean saying to itself, "OH! I can't stand being this stormy and dirty. I can't stand this force behind my waves and having to crash so hard. This is just terrible. Why can't it be a calm day when my water is as blue as the sky and my waves rise and fall calmly on the beach? I really like myself then. Not now! All dirty and stirred up with no rhyme or reason to my actions." I understood that there was no reason to judge myself. The ocean does not judge itself. The natural world does no such thing. It exists as it does, ebbing and flowing with each change.

Why should I treat myself any differently? What if I accepted that I was in a bad mood and that was that? Oh what a sense of relief I felt. Amazing, the power of negative energy! I was given a new perspective. I was given a moment of reprieve from my big ol' all encompassing SELF! I was given room to breathe visually and physically. I felt better!!!!

I started in on my return walk and as I stepped off the rock, I fell into a sand sinkhole that filled up with water. Wet Feet!! I didn't laugh. The bad mood that dissipated rose up in glee. "YEAH!! Let's return to torture her!!" But I was buoyed by my relief and given a great refrain to talk back with. What if I said, "Isn't that wonderful?" to every complaint that came up? Now, I know that sounds really Stuart Smalley BUT it worked! I said, "Oh man, my shoes are all wet and my feet are gonna be cold for the walk back!" "Isn't that wonderful? I know what it is like to have warm feet to compare this experience with!" I tried it with my worries of financing a new car. "Oh I can't figure out how to deal with moving money around." "Isn't that wonderful? I have money to move around and the ability to buy a car." Well you get the drift. It worked to lift any cranky thought or complaint that I came up and the energy released from answering "Isn't it wonderful?" was much more pleasant that the original complaint.

So it was quite a little walk I had out to Tennessee Valley Beach yesterday. Hurray for nature! And Hurray for god-given energy shifts!
Sincerely signed,
Molly Anna