You crept out bit by bit Sneaking away earlier and earlier Reminding us of life without you We are left standing listening to the sound of our own beating hearts Dwelling in silent stillness Our breathe taken away by whispers of sucking solitude You demand our gratitude in your absence compelling us to remember your importance as we slosh through our days Testing our confidence that you will return Promising not to leave us endlessly in shadow You bid us to appreciate this moment of vast darkness Drawing up awareness that rests deep in our bellies You nudge us to kneel and offer gratitude Seeing what is visible only to eyes adjusted in darkness Insisting on an attentiveness that peels open the layers uncovering the hidden truth Soon you will creep in Bit by bit inching your way back earlier and earlier But for now we sit with you without you In darkness
3 Comments
The night winds down Rounds of goodbyes begin Hugs and farewells Drawn out This large family does its goodbyes much like it does everything Loudly, gluttonously and with all our hearts Those who join this family are dragged through The drawn out, long, exhaustive rounds of hugs, kisses, last jabs of the evening They learn to urge the goodbye ceremony to begin hours before they are ready to go This evening is no different Last embraces, goodbyes recapturing, retelling highlights of the day Good thing it will probably only be 12 hours before we all meet again You see it is only Wednesday of our week together So we still have more evenings and days of togetherness But somehow Not consciously But somehow we know we have hit the climax We are standing at the peak Don’t get me wrong there are still plenty of belly laughs fishing excursions deep talks excessive eating harmonies in the glow of crackling fires midnight dips in cleansing waters Yes, there are still piles of moments ahead But Wednesday night comes to a close It will never be again So the goodbyes are drawn out perhaps even a bit longer than usual This night one cousin, new father and old soul Says his goodbye to his mother’s younger brother Hugs Embrace We’ve got 98 more. he says to his uncle Hug still in progress We get together in these sacred mountains each year We come together as family wrapped in imperfect love once a year These are the moments we have together Some years there may be a few more encounters if there is a wedding or funeral But mostly – we have this once We get a few warm hugs out of everyone this week this sacred week we spend together We’ve got 98 more. I guess so if we are blessed to do this for the next 30 years we may get another 98 hugs out of ya all That is a lot to be grateful for As we learn over and over you never know when the last hug will be For the old and frail And for the young and vibrant So savor these hugs I will Hold onto these embraces Breathe in these goodbyes Sorry in-laws – it will take a while Longer that you would like But we’re gonna soak them in Drink them down like gin and tonic on the rocks Get drunk on them and let them fill us up feed us until the next time Making our rounds We may be down to only 97 hugs after tonight We will have used another one up But it will be worth it In its place we will have a few more laughs Some more indelible memories and we take with us a deeper love of these mountains we call family and these people we call home And if we are lucky, We’ve still got 97 more. Welcome, little one. Welcome to the Mountains. You are the first of the 7th generation to touch foot, feel the water, smell the air Your mom says this is the furthest journey you have taken in your seven months upon this earth Yes, in more ways than one, It is the furthest. Coming here is like moving through space and time, back through our family story We don’t know it at first As kids it is just fun – Sun Sandcastles Crayfish under rocks Brisk Water Marshmallowy fingers Bear stories Giggles with cousins Mountain climbs Sugar for breakfast, lunch and dinner Shooting stars That’s what we thought made it so special little did we know it ran much deeper through our bones pumping in our veins Late nights around crackling campfires Circles of song Gatherings of love Traditions and treasures Glimpses of truth Hugs from hearts overflowing Midnight swims with generations past Friends who have become family Tears and dancing Etchings on our souls The safety of family knowing they would always be here not that it would always be easy On no! Indeed, we have had more tragedy than I’d like to recall but, and it is a BIG “but” we can always find our way back to the Mountains find our way back to the generations of love, depth and abundance Year after year received back by this sacred land Decade after decade returning to be with these beautiful souls It lifts us and grounds us at the same time up and down all at once waves in a pattern of dichotomy In the mountains we know who we are – stripped of facade, glitter and titles none of that matters here the deep Sacandaga waters wash all the glitter away the evening glow of campfires burn through all façades our names are reduced to “mommy” “sister” “grandson” “cuz” “son” "gram" the only titles we need, the only ones that matter Generation after generation after generation after generation after generation after generation after generation… Built the love that you feel when you are here. It will buoy you keep you afloat when life’s storms are strong It will ground you hold you close when life’s uncertainties linger Welcome little one. Welcome to the Mountains, to your Mountains. They are here for you and they are deep within you. Seven generations deep. When you ask your children how their day was, do you get blank stares? I used to get blank stares or one word answers from my kids. Then we started our daily practice of “high and low of the day.” It has brought substance and depth to our conversations. This is how it works. High and low of the day In the car ride home in the evening or at the dinner table at our house you will hear the question, “Time for high and low of the day!” A friend told us about their family ritual of asking one another to share one high and one low from their day. Two years ago we decided to implement this into our daily family routine. Some days we get the obligatory, unenthusiastic answers from our eight and ten-year-old children. One of our eight-year-old’s favorite responses is “I got to play iPad” (insert mom guilt here because he plays on the iPad WAY more than I would like). Once in a while we will get some manipulative, snarky response like “My high was having ice-cream!” I respond naively, “Oh, you had ice-cream at lunch in school today?” “No, I am going to have it tonight!” Laughter ensues from the backseat of the car. So, I admit that our family “high and low of the day” time is not always profound and trans-formative, but I do sincerely believe that this practice has shifted something for us and I think it is worth trying. Here is why. Some days the highs and lows are too important not to share Some days the “high and low of the day” conversation goes something like this: Imagine a shrieking, joyful, giddy girl proclaiming, “I am so excited I got called back for another audition. I have never been to call backs before!” Imagine a disheartened, trembling voice whispering, “The girls in school today were really mean and made me sad.” These are the moments that can stop me in my tracks and remind me how important the “high and low of the day” practice is. It reinforces how essential it is to ask these questions of one another. It reminds me how important it is to take the time to ask each other how we are doing and really be ready to listen to whatever is shared. I often wonder how many of these things I would not hear about if we didn’t commit to this daily practice. Would I know my son was hurting inside and feeling left out? Would I really be able to understand the depth of my daughter’s joy? I have a feeling I would miss out on a lot of these insights and opportunities. Those pesky lows The yin to my yang; the winter to my summer; the peanut butter to my jelly; the night to my day; the turkey to my... Well, you get the point... One of the essential aspects of this practice is that we are intentional about asking about BOTH the highs and lows. We nudge each other to share about both sides of the day – the pleasant and the unpleasant. Why is this important? We tend to be obsessed with happiness. There is often a sense that we have failed if we are not constantly cheerful and experiencing “good” or pleasant feelings. This is unrealistic, and more importantly, unhealthy. Our human experience includes both the highs and lows of life and I would suggest we can’t truly experience the full extent of one without the other (read more at “Riding the Wave”). It is healthy and honest to acknowledge both our highs and lows. It is important to accept that both are part of our lives - every single day. Every day we have an opportunity to acknowledge and make room for both the positive and negative; to shine and to fail, to be grateful and disappointed. There is room for both. In this practice both are honored and given space. Both are accepted. It is a practice in active listening and mindfulness. Instead of being attached to what “should” be we listen to each other’s testimony of the day as it actually is - without judgment. What happens when there is a day that is ALL low? There are those days – the days that are filled with dark clouds, pessimistic colleagues, sore throats, tired emotions, hurt feelings, bad news, and feelings of incompetence. There are the blah days, the ones that seem entirely “low.” But our practice of “high and low of the day” allows us to pick only one. We have to choose, prioritize our lows. There are so many to sift through - the rude driver who cut me off, the busy friend who disappointed me, the news of a fire that destroyed a friend’s home…and the list goes on. Often the one “low” that I ultimately choose surprises me – it puts the other “lows” of the day in a different perspective. Another chance for reflection. And then the dreaded “high!” On these “low days” who wants to try to dig and find a high? Not me! You know the idiom “misery loves company” - keep those negative thoughts coming, resist looking for any positive, no “highs” allowed at this party! But rules are rules and I have to pick one. And guess what? When I shift my attention and look for a “high” - I find it. EVERY time I manage to find one. They actually have been there all along. All day they sat there quietly beside my “lows” and I just hadn’t noticed them. And now I get to share it and acknowledge it. Maybe even dare to celebrate it - a little - on this dark day. Let’s be clear, it doesn’t flip my “low” day. It is not a magic wand. It usually still remains a “low” day – and by the way – that is alright. But the “high” is like those stars on the darkest of night – against the pitch black they shine all the brighter. What happens when the day is ALL high? Then there are the “high” days when joy seems to prevail and friends give you outward signs of love and appreciation. When plays are performed that end with standing ovations, when hard work show its fruits, when gardens are tended to and celebrations are had. There are days when it is difficult to choose just one “high” because the entire day feels high! On these “high” days I am often struck at the one “high” I choose to prioritize and share with my family. The one I dare to speak before the universe. Sometimes it is more like the flutter of butterfly wings than fireworks of the day. Sometimes the one that rises to the top is nuanced and subtle. In fact, often it is a moment that I would have blown past and not remembered at all, if not for this practice. There is something to take away from that. In a day filled with “highs” there is still room to find more “highs” and there are still more things to be grateful for. The practice of “high and low of the day” brings consciousness to the little moments. The words of Robert Brault come to mind, “Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things.” Then those pesky rules come into play again - the dreaded “low.” On a “high” day such as this who has time to look for “lows” – not me! Move on. I just want to bask in the glow of the “high” day. But a voice breaks in, “Mom you didn’t share your low.” I have been called out by my kids. I want to hear the negative things too. When we ask each other to share our “lows” it is kind of like we are saying to each other – “I love you when you are not cheerful and happy. I love you when you are sad and cranky and tired and irritable as well. I love all of you.” What a powerful message we all need to hear. I love you exactly how you are right now in this space – no matter what. I don’t think we can hear that enough as parents, partners, friends, soulmates, colleagues, children, community members, students, grandparents…people. I think we need to hear and experience this more often. Implicit in this practice is the message of unconditional love. In my experience “high and low of the day” creates a little space, every day, to let each other know we are loved for exactly who we are, right now, without exception. Now it is your turn So what are you waiting for? It is time to begin your “high and low of the day” practice. What was your high and low of the day? Did someone ask you about them today? Did anyone listen to your high and low of the day? Did you ask anyone about their high and low of the day? Try it. I encourage you to give it a shot. What do you notice? How do you and your family respond to it? Do you end up making it a part of your family’s daily practice? I would love to hear how it works for you. Open up and share, your high and low of the day. Have you ever been so sure of something, sang the song the same way for years, perhaps decades. Then there is that day when you are singing your heart out and all of a sudden someone gives you that look. The “what did you just say?” look. I found out the hard way that the words aren’t “Swing Low, Sweet Cheerio. Coming for to carry me home.” It is a profound lesson though. That thing I was so sure of turns out to be so wrong. I could have listened to that song one million times and every time I would have heard “sweet cheerio” instead of “sweet chariot.” What are the other things - things much more significant and impactful in my life than singing the wrong lyrics - that I also cling to as truth that may actually be absurdly wrong? I was reminded of this again today when I was looking at my son’s soccer roster. The team names always have a theme. Excited to see what animal, or cartoon character or country that his team name would be this season, I scanned down and found the team name – Kookaburras! What the hell are Kookaburras? I had to look at the other team names to even figure out what category this word belongs to! Then I started laughing out loud and shouted to the coach, who happened to be in the kitchen. His comment was that it must be punishment for losing all the jerseys last season. Funny story – we had bags of giveaways in the trunk last fall and my diligent, helpful husband dropped them off at the donation center. Days later when the first soccer practice came along he went into the trunk to pull out the soccer jerseys to pass out to the team and he realized he had forgotten them at home. Oh well, he would have to bring them to the game on Saturday. Then on the ride home it hit him! We ran to the Rescue Mission – the truck had just left with the load for the week and was heading south. We called down to the main store – no luck. New jerseys had to be printed and coach would never live it down. So this was probably just another jab at the coach that ‘donated’ the entire team’s jerseys – your team gets to be the “Kookaburras” – try coming up with a team cheer for that one. Then I said it out loud. Kookaburras. My tongue stumbled on it. Wait! I had one of those realizations. No, it couldn’t be. This one was a childhood classic that my mom sang to me at bedtime. Her mother had taught it to her. I had passed it down to my children. I couldn’t have gotten this one wrong all these years! “Cooka Bear sits on the old gum tree, Merry merry king of the bush is he. Laugh, Cooka Bear, laugh, Cooka Bear, Gay your life must be!” I always pictured a Cooka Bear sitting in the tree. Erect on the tree limb, plucking colorful gumdrops from the tree…laughing. Oh wow. I guess my image might be a little far-fetched. But that’s what the words said! “Cooka Bear sits in the old gum tree Eating all the gumdrops he can see Stop, Cooka Bear, Stop, Cooka Bear Leave some there for me.” So, could this be my beloved Cooka Bear? I google it. Not much comes up when you google “Cooka Bear.” I thought I would see something like this: But if you google “Kookaburras” you get 914,000 results! Lots of pictures like this: A bird! An Australian King Fisher who’s song sounds like human laughter…. A bird! If you haven’t ever heard the beautiful popular Australian nursery rhyme about a bird, not a bear- check it out!
So, another example of how fallible my certainties are. Lesson learned.....again. Then after the shock wore off, I thought about how special it is that my son is on the Kookaburras team this season. I think it was meant to be. And you can be sure you will hear me on the sidelines, cheering louder than anyone “GO COOKA BEARS!” The door opened
It was spacious and bright The cacophony of bright fabricated colors shone through in the shape of a cross The curves of the walls softened my gaze Without genuflecting I slipped in and landed on the smooth surface of the sacrificed tree Almost as if entering an altered realm I melted down and landed in a cloud of “yes” “welcome” “enough-ness” “stillness” Blankets of rippled energy massaged my shoulders and seeped into my chest The awareness of the instantaneous transformation jolted me momentarily but then the shock dissolved and I was left with only presence I breathed it in wondering what “it” was On the deep and intentional exhale a tingle of acceptance tickled the tip of my nose and sat waiting for the next invigorating breath The next inhale began its journey from the tip of my nose inward The playful sensation came back to life and rose up into my head and pushed down into my chest It danced around Its vibration teased out a single teardrop that departed my left outer eyelid, which was now shut Reverberating in and out and through all of me Gushes of generations who came before me awoke I carried them inside and they seemed to greet the generations of those already in the space – who had called this home who had hunted this land who had nursed their young here who had been pushed off this land who had done the pushing off All seemed to come together in the space to join with me And in this sacred moment The hollow space in a straw of someone sipping the last drops of their drink echoed Slurps shifted my awareness back to the little nondenominational church in La Villita On any other day the loud irreverent noise would be jolting and irritating Another wet, airy gulp tested the calm silence I smiled The blanket of sacred humanity still lay on my shoulders and kept me warm I made sure to dwell in it for a morsel longer And when it felt like it had been long enough I stood up and with more space between each molecule of my being I entered back into the sunshine beating down on adobe buildings and sacred souls in the streets Both living and deceased I look through the weathered window White painted wood frame, chipped and faded Four square panes standing in quadrants of simultaneousness The top left pane clear and crisp Looking out all is peaceful Colors blend in dancing bouquets The sun reflects in and warms my face as I gaze out An arena of syncopated rhythm the beating of my heart aligned with all drifting outside Then a cool gust of wind pushes through the opening My gaze lowers to the pane beneath The façade of the glass is blurred It pushes my gaze within I see the harsh dark and wakening truths The ones that aren’t let out I bite my lips together to ensure nothing escapes Swallow deep, deliberate and push all down and contain No one sees through this pane to what is behind, to what is held inside A bird flutters by outside I glance to the upper right pane but it is too late I try to find it, searching through the shadows I sense there is something there but to no avail The darkness blinds and reflects only the outline of my round face Blank of detail or substance Void, unknown to me I can hear chirps of truth from those who do know Then there is silence and it beckons to me I stare down, the final corner Nothingness It is not dark, it is not light It just is, elusive and omnipresent all at once Breath pushes in and out The potential to unveil The existence of utterances held still Unknowns surrounded by barrenness Swirls move around me Sparks summon me to glance below to the sill The sturdy foundation holding this pane-filled view Four panes aligned perfectly One which is all knowing One which lies within One hidden from my view One standing in absolute unknown They all sit, together Upon this sill Sit they do, together, on this sill My partner mentioned to me that he saw a post about someone who was going to “post a picture a day” for the year. Now that’s a New Year’s resolution I can get excited about and perhaps even follow through on. And, I have, so far. Yes, I understand it is only January 15…but still it is an accomplishment. In fact it is longer than I have ever stayed true to a resolution. I have shared 14 pictures thus far in 2017 and it has been so fun and enjoyable. Some days I have taken dozens of photos of snow covered trees, savory meals, astonishing sunrises, full moons…yesterday I took literally hundreds of photos during a photo shoot with my cousins and their precious newborn son. On these photo-prolific days it is a challenge to narrow down and choose just one. Then other days I have been busy at work and life seems to move me from one task to the next throughout my day without a breather. At the end of these days I find I have gotten through the entire day without seeing inspirational scenery or experiencing a riveting moment that has drawn me in and begged to be photographed…. On these days the practice becomes almost more of a journaling exercise, an invitation to stop and reflect on the day. Picking a picture of the day is like bringing pen to paper and journaling. The challenge is how to summarize my day in one photo – finding something that describes and encapsulates the simple ebbs and flows of the day. Picking out a photo becomes like writing another excerpt in my journal. Over the last few days I have been noticing something else, a shift. I am reminded at different moments throughout the day about my resolution – a picture a day – and I work to be mindful of the moments, people, views, words, emotions, vistas, narratives – knowing I will need to choose one and share it. I’ve noticed it has become a helpful nudge to stay present, curious, aware and open to each moment throughout the day. This has been a great unintended consequence. It has piqued my awareness throughout the day. I pay attention in a deeper way. I don’t need to shoot all these moments – that would be obnoxious anyways – I just allow the idea into my mind that each moment is up for grabs. Each moment has the potentiality of being sacred, honored and chosen as the one to send out to others as an outward sign of what I value and have found meaning in that day. I know, I know – posting pics to Facebook is not necessarily the most sacred of experiences. But I do have to say that this practice has really taught me something – perhaps all practices whether embedded in our sacred spiritual traditions, or part of our mundane routines or resolutions we make at the beginning of a new year… perhaps all of these practices – if we stay true to them, inevitably will teach us something and ultimately expand us. And one thing very different about this resolution is that it was something that I was so thrilled to be doing – it tapped into my loves, passions, interests. It felt like I was reaching toward abundance. This is in stark contrast to past resolutions that were more like running from temptation and based on self-loathing and “you’re not good enough” mantras. It turns out I have not been very good at keeping the self-loathing kind of resolutions anyways. This new approach feels different and to be honest seems like it is feeding me in a way that has supported me to also make different choices in challenging areas I would like to address; unhealthy patterns and destructive habits. But I shifted approaches. It was by no means purposeful, but nonetheless seems to be having an impact. I am so grateful that my partner mentioned the idea in passing. It led me to resolving to do something daily that is life-giving, aligns with my values, and encourages reflection and purposefulness. I believe this approach fosters success – to make changes in a healthy direction. It is similar to the approach I adhere to in my work as a strength-based Career Coach - encouraging others to spend more of their minutes each day focused on things that strengthen them. Somehow in my own life I find ways to complicate things and not “practice what I preach.” Now I understand that there is something powerful in setting resolutions that are strengths-based, abundance-seeking, aligned with our core. For one, I think we have a much better chance of staying committed to them, maybe just long enough to evolve, shift, change… I hope your resolutions, goals and dreams for 2017 are coming to fruition. I hope you will join me in resolving to embark on a practice that feeds your being and speaks to your soul. Happy 2017! Photo Journal 2017I stand in space and time all is still A reflection of all moments, emotions and memories weave into a blanket around me encompass me in robes of violent and magenta roll over me in textures of grit and silk hues and shadow individually each is familiar yet when together in a tapestry of reflection my spirit pulls in opposing directions Flip flopping like a dying fish in a shallow bucket Unsure of where the next breath will come from Gasping for air beneath the water in a space not meant for me Echoes of assurance rattle in my ears Am I willing to surrender and trust? Is it easier to call into question all once held in confidence? If all is impermanent then this too will fleet The rushing sensations burst together Creating moments so fierce and flammable one more ounce of insightful vulnerability will explode my soul Do I wish it away out of fear? Do I blink and cast it afar? I try This time the tapestry is too heavy The memories too vibrant They fight me to stay and swirl around me paralyzing my senses They pull from within me Drag out the inner workings Shed light on the dark corners Send vibration through the spaces Turning me inside out All that was tucked safe within flips to the outside My skin is storybooks and comics and movies of buried treasures I am a stage and the world can see the production imprinted on my flesh Actors stomp on my head and audiences hang from my arms What is left inside is milky white and flows like honey Freezing time and judgement The core is warm as mother’s milk and vast as cloudless skies I forget about the rattling production facing the world I dwell inside for a while awakening and expanding Every cell seems to hold infiniteness Each one a world to explore and comprehend I wish to stay here I try The ground jerks around me Turbulent shakes blend it all together Inside, outside – melded together in a stew of reality Fluidity of exterior and interior Nuanced realities side by side I step back into the space and time of now I stand still as woven memories grace my bones and cover my flesh Dance is all I can do Twist my torso Tap my toes Shake my head Slink my hips Integrating with every move Aligning once again More alive than ever Turning Turning inside out into space and time I wept.
I wept three different times today Once early this morning when the reality smacked me in the face and rushed to my gut I looked into the mirror and the truth I saw in the reflection of this country crippled me I wept. I looked into my children’s eyes and shared the news What world have we created for you What runs through your minds and how does this shape your gentle reality I wept. For my friends, family, students, strangers I passed today in silence – for each of you who are pounded down by violent words, relentless attacks and gestures of hate Today all those words were amplified through the megaphone of 59,611,678 votes It is deafening I weep and hold each of you in my heart. I think about each of your individual struggles and yearnings to carry on. Each of you who are filled with fear, targeted for being you I weep. I will continue to weep. I need some cleansing I am so sorry. We have failed you. Please forgive us, please forgive me. I am so sorry. You are loved. Louder than my weeping, I scream – you are loved, you are wanted, you are needed, you are beautiful. My hope is that you feel some ripples of love because I know love will overcome. Through the tears I will continue the mantra of love. Our voices will be heard – steady as the drum and beating of the heart. You are loved, you are wanted, you are needed, you are beautiful. But tonight, in solidarity, I continue to weep. |
AuthorSome times I write. Even less than "some" times I share what I write. For those moments that I write and want to share I have done so here. Archives
December 2017
Categories
|