This song by Hozier is gorgeous, poetic, and haunting to me. Take a listen (click here if the embed doesn’t work).
Haunting
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Category Archives: Spirit
SoulCollage® December
SoulCollage® Committee Suit: Feline Familiars
I am one who is soft and curvy, and I am one who is fierce. I am one who enjoys pleasure and will communicate. I am one who is a mystery. I am one who is subtle. And I am one who is primal.
What is your gift or message for me?
Remember to indulge in things that give you joy, comfort, and pleasure.
What do you want me to do?
Watch things. Take your head and eyes out of your computer and watch kitty television, which is watching the world. Be curious about everything around you.
Why did you show up today?
It’s been almost a year since Stella died. She was a good friend for 17 years and she is still with you.
If you have a shadow, what would it be? Or, what light do you offer?
The shadow is a tendency to laziness and to sneakiness. The light is the magnificent pleasure of being.
SoulCollage® November
SoulCollage® Committee Suit: Our Lady of the Coffee
I am one who requires coffee. I am one who appreciates the daily ritual. I am one whose mind cannot function without a dose. I am one who is a mother and whose work is without end.
What is your gift or message for me?
That I am bottomless and endless and full of energy.
What do you want me to do?
Enjoy imbibing without guilt or concern. Go out more to coffee shops. I am not meant to be drunk alone all the time. Life is messy and it’s ok to spill, and sometimes art arises from what feels like a mistake.
Why did you show up today?
Because I’m ordinary and deeply integral to your life. And because you are feeling like hibernating and more tired because of the season.
If you have a shadow, what would it be? Or, what light do you offer?
The shadow is that drinking more coffee will not resolve your exhaustion if it is coming from other sources. The light is the pleasure of the ritual.
Some Knowledge
“And so seated next to my father in the train compartment, I suddenly asked, “Father, what is sexsin?”
He turned to look at me, as he always did when answering a question, but to my surprise he said nothing. At last he stood up, lifted his traveling case off the floor and set it on the floor.
Will you carry it off the train, Corrie?” he said.
I stood up and tugged at it. It was crammed with the watches and spare parts he had purchased that morning.
It’s too heavy,” I said.
Yes,” he said, “and it would be a pretty poor father who would ask his little girl to carry such a load. It’s the same way, Corrie, with knowledge. Some knowledge is too heavy for children. When you are older and stronger, you can bear it. For now you must trust me to carry it for you.”
–Corrie ten Boom, The Hiding Place
From the Ashes
Long ago in my twenties, I lived a struggling, claustrophobic life. I lived paycheck to paycheck; depressed, angry, lonely, and unconvinced of my right to exist. Through my hard work and perseverance, I changed myself and my life. (This was pre-Austin, pre-Hub.) But I have a secret. This accomplishment arose from decade-long, intimate journaling relationship with a Navajo man serving seven consecutive life sentences for rape in the Arizona penitentiary.
I’ll let that sink in.
Yes, I credit a man — a very broken man — who provided me with a safe heart-place to express all my thoughts, fears, and dreams. He loved me and gave companionship and encouragement. I met myself — and him — through our words. I wrapped my head around his story, his despicable crimes, and found something good in him regardless. Something that helped me. And for awhile, I helped him.
For ten years we wrote; at one point I wrote him letters daily — by hand, single-spaced and double-sided, sometimes 30 pages. We no longer have contact. I broke off the relationship twice, the second time permanently and in a rather brutal way, in 1999. By severing the relationship, I made room for the path to open, and I met my husband not long after. (And that relationship also changed everything.) But this part of my journey wants to be told.
So I’ve begun.
Naming
Sometimes it helps to name my inner state. So here goes.
I’m lonesome. Restless. Edgy. Feeling isolated, weighed down, slothful. Muffled. Not really engaged by anything. Or rather, not able to settle in and get absorbed by tasks. Avoidant of things I want to do, like writing or making art. Avoidant of things that need doing that I don’t really want to do, like cooking or cleaning. Wishing to be anywhere but my current location. Missing the structure of going somewhere and being with people working. The weird bit: I haven’t gone to a job in eight years. I’m feeling a little like I used to feel long ago: that my life feels too tight, constricted, doesn’t fit right.
I used to wonder if I’d ever feel comfortable in my life. I wondered if I might just be permanently broken. But still I resisted accepting my lot completely, always working toward my goals. And it paid off. I did eventually change myself and my life in ways that created a good fit.
For the first time in about 14 years, my life feels too tight. I’m noticing and naming what is true for me. That part of me gets to exist. I dislike how it feels, but it’s real.
And then I tell myself what this song says to give some balance; it’s a great mantra. Because after all, I get to be here. To be. So sit back and chill for six minutes; absorb the message and the music.
If the embed doesn’t work, go here.
Advent Ideas Focused on Kindness
“There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.”
–Edith Wharton
Advent is approaching! (Yes, I know I’m thinking way ahead.) Every year I put special activities (written on slips of paper) in our calendar pockets for us to do each day. This year, we’re going to do something new: random acts of kindness. Below is a list I found online (although I can’t remember where). We’ll pick 24 of these for Advent. And maybe we’ll keep doing it after!
- Leave a bouquet at the hospital; the nurses will know who needs it the most.
- Make a struggling family’s summer by buying them a season pass to the municipal pool.
- Help a friend see today in a wondrous new light: Hand him or her a kaleidoscope.
- If you are in a long line, invite the person behind you to go first.
- Shower the pediatric wing of a hospital with $1 coloring books and $2 boxes of new crayons.
- Hang a sign on a bulletin board that says “Take What You Need” — with tear-off tabs at the bottom for Love, Hope, Faith, and Courage.
- Bring courtesy back in an instant: Hold the door open with a flourish.
- Drop off combs, toothbrushes, and toothpaste at a shelter or a soup kitchen.
- Curb road rage: Let other cars merge onto the highway.
- Leave your neighbors a note that tells them how much joy you find in admiring their garden.
- Put sticky notes with positive messages (e.g., “You look gorgeous!”) on a restroom mirror.
- In low-income families, a baby can spend a day or longer in the same diaper, and laundromats often don’t allow cloth diapers to be washed in machines. Help out a mom and a baby by donating diapers (find a directory of diaper banks at diaperbanknetwork.org).
- Send a thank-you note to the brave officers at your local police station. (Given how we carry on about parking tickets, it’s important to acknowledge the daily risks taken by the men and women on the force.)
- Share the wealth: Ask the grocery clerk to apply your unused coupons to another customer’s items.
- Arrange to pay anonymously for a soldier’s breakfast when you see him or her dining alone.
- Slip a $20 gas card or public-transportation pass into someone’s shopping bag.
- Rekindle your Girl Scout spirit: Pick up trash at a park or a playground.
- Donate your old professional clothes to an organization, like Dress for Success (dressforsuccess.org), that helps women jump-start their careers — and up their confidence.
- Carry someone’s groceries.
- It’s hot out! Offer your mail carrier a glass of iced tea or a $5 Starbucks gift card.
- Bake bread or cookies and deliver the food to a nearby fire station or group home.
- Be the bigger person: Cede the parking space.
- Check “yes” when asked if you wish to become an organ donor — and tell your family.
- Lay your neighbors’ newspaper at their front door along with a plate of blueberry muffins.
- Donate old cell phones to the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence (ncadv.org), which will use the proceeds for programs that protect families from abuse.
- Sing an employee’s praises to a manager or on a comment card — a little recognition goes a long way.
- Share happy memories. Stick an old photo in the mail to a friend and write a note about the day it was taken on the back.
- Send an ooey-gooey dessert over to another table at a restaurant.
- Leave a copy of a book you love, with a note for the next reader, on the train or the bus.
- Send valentines in August.
- Load extra change into the vending machine to buy the next person a Coke.
- Send somebody an e-card, just because. The funnier, the better.
- Name a star after someone (starregistry.com).
- Forgive someone. Repeat as necessary.
- Resolve to refrain from negative self-talk (you deserve your kindness, too!).
- On trash day, wheel your neighbor’s can out to the curb.
- Relay an overheard compliment.
- You don’t have to send every disadvantaged child to college, but you can buy one of them a life-changing book: Try booksforkids.org.
- To melt away her blues, send a friend a funny video from YouTube.
- Volunteer to read to kids at an after-school program.
- Give your mom a shout-out on your birthday — after all, she deserves some credit for your life.
- Pause and give people the benefit of the doubt. E-mail, especially, can cause unintentional feather-ruffling.
- Bring your spouse coffee in bed.
- Treat an elderly neighbor, with a gift certificate, to a $30 pedicure. Bonus points if you can do so anonymously.
- Dedicate a song on the radio to someone you know is listening during his or her long commute.
- Take kindness on the road: Pay the toll for the car behind you.
- Slow way down when you drive past a pedestrian — 35 mph can seem like the Indy 500 to a woman walking her dog.
- Rescue a wallflower! Strike up a conversation with someone who’s standing alone at a party.
- Leave extra umbrellas in vestibules with notes that say “Use this to stay dry!”
- Deliver fresh-baked cookies to city workers.
- Bring flowers to work and share them with coworkers.
- Simply listen to someone in need.
- Donate a percentage of receipts for the week to a special cause.
- Bring coworkers a special treat.
- Sing at a nursing home.
- Offer a couple of hours of baby-sitting to parents.
- Serve refreshments to customers.
- Treat someone to fresh fruit.
- Pay a compliment at least once a day.
- Hand out balloons to passersby.
- Give free sodas to motorists.
- Transport someone who can’t drive.
- Mow a neighbor’s grass.
- Say something nice to everyone you meet today.
- Send a treat to a school or day-care center.
- Volunteer at an agency that needs help.
- Give the gift of your smile.
- Organize a scouts or service clubs to help people with packages at grocery store.
- Offer to answer the phone for the school secretary for ten minutes.
- Volunteer to read to students in the classroom.
- Give a hug to a friend.
- Tell your children why you love them.
- Write a note to your mother/father and tell them why they are special.
- Pat someone on the back.
- Give coffee to people on their way to work in the morning.
- Give blood.
- Plant flowers in your neighbor’s flower box.
- Give another driver your parking spot.
- Leave a treat or handmade note of thanks for a delivery person or mail carrier.
- Tell your boss that you think he/she does a good job.
- Tell your employees how much you appreciate their work.
- Let your staff leave work an hour early.
- Tell a bus or taxi driver how much you appreciate their driving.
- Give a pair of tickets to a baseball game or concert to a stranger.
- Leave an extra big tip for the waitperson.
- Drop off a plant, cookies, or donuts to the police or fire department.
- Open the door for another person.
- Pay for the meal of the person behind you in the drive-through.
- Be a friend to a new student or coworker.
- Offer to return a shopping cart to the store for someone loading a car.
- Buy a roll of colorful stickers and give them to children you meet during the day.
- Write a card of thanks and leave it with your tip.
- Let the person behind you in the grocery store go ahead of you in line.
- When drivers try to merge into your lane, let them in with a wave and a smile.
- Buy cold drinks for the people next to you at a ball game.
- Distribute kindness bookmarks that you have made.
- Plant a tree.
- As you go about your day, pick up trash.
- Laugh out loud often and be generous with your smile.
- Pay for the order of the person behind you in the drive-thru line.
- Rake leaves or shovel snow for a neighbor.
- Send friends and relatives notes or letters of encouragement on the back of your kids’ artwork.
- Leave love notes for your spouse or kids in places like a briefcase or clothing drawer.
- Bring water, coffee, or hot chocolate to outdoor workers (police officers or crossing guards, for example).
- Put your neighbor’s trashcans away for them after pick-up.
- Buy a soda or candy bar for the cashier when you’re checking out.
- Give a restaurant or coffee gift card to someone (bank cashier, postal worker, homeless person, or random stranger).
- Send a silly card to brighten someone’s day.
- Call or email someone you haven’t talked to in awhile, just to ask how they are.
- Send your spouse a text just to tell him something that you appreciate about him.
- Hide a kind note in a library book.
- Leave your trade credit inside a book or video game at the used book store. (This happened to my son last week. It was just enough to get an inexpensive game and it made his day.)
- Bring your spouse his favorite drink while he’s getting ready for work. (This happened to me last week and it made my day…except, I wasn’t getting ready for work.)
- Cut someone’s grass.
- Bake cookies for someone. (Postal carrier, neighbor, elderly friend, Sunday school teacher, etc.).
- Leave coins on a parking meter or the machines at a laundry mat.
- Pay the toll for the car behind you.
- Help someone load their groceries.
- Offer to return someone’s shopping cart to the store.
- Let someone go ahead of you in the checkout line.
- Let someone pull out or turn in front of you in traffic, if it’s safe to do so.
- Keep unopened kids’ meal toys in your purse to give to kids you encounter (with their parent’s permission).
- Pay for someone’s meal at a restaurant.
- Make extra meals to share with a sick or busy neighbor.
- Offer to keep a friend’s kids so she and her husband can have some time alone.
- Take a friend’s child(ren) shopping for an upcoming holiday so they can buy their parents a surpise gift.
- Make hats for kids with cancer.
- Make cards for nursing home residents…and deliver them with your kids.
- Pick up trash at the park.
- Thank a soldier.
- Make care bags for the homeless – toiletry items, bottled water, food store gift cards, non-perishable/ready-to-eat foods.
- Buy car wash coupons and give them away.
- Leave copy of the Sunday newspaper on your neighbor’s doorstep.
- Clean house for a friend or family member while she’s on vacation.
- Leave extra coupons on the store shelf next to the item they’re good for.
- Pack a bag for someone undergoing chemo – include snacks, bottled water, magazines, word-find games, a mechanical pencil, and a good book.
- Tape envelopes with quarters to vending machines.
- Take care packages to patients with new babies at the hospital.
- Take homemade cookies or cupcakes to the police or fire station.
- Invite a homeschool mom friend’s kids over for the day so she can run errands or do lesson plans alone – or just take a nap!
- Save change throughout the year and bless another family with some extra cash during the holidays.
- Pack a date-night box (movie rental card, popcorn, soft drinks, movie candy) and leave it on someone’s doorstep. Ring the bell and run!
- Take lunch to the ICU waiting room.
- Take magazines, word-find games, or Sudoku puzzles and mechanical pencils to a waiting room.
- Take flowers to a nurses’ station – for the nurses.
- Get a group together to make a meal for your local Ronald McDonald House.
- Give your unwanted newspaper coupons to the lady behind you who’s buying three papers. Chances are, she clips coupons.
- Fix a make-ahead breakfast for a working/school-not-at-home family to make their morning a little smoother.
- Purchase a store gift card or a gas card and send it to a friend in need.
Reverence
What is real for me in this moment: life feels bittersweet. It’s October again. Soon it’s Christmas. It’s “Where did the time go?” Then it’s a new year, and the school year ends, and summer vacation evaporates, school begins again, and then: another new year. Life is like this, every year. I recognize this, every year. I remember this conversation with myself from last year. The older I get, the more time compresses.
I practice presence — living here and now — and I’ve gotten pretty adept. Compared to the me I was in my 20s, 30s, and 40s, I focus less on past rumination and future anxiety. But that doesn’t make the time pass more slowly. It doesn’t change the fact that this life is such a short stint.
Yes, there’s Presence. The intangible subtle Mystery to which we are connected, from which we arise and to which return. It is possible to notice and experience this daily. Sometimes I even live within and from it — from a knowing that defies description or understanding with the mind.
But lately I’ve been noticing: I like this current incarnation. I like being in this body, living this life. It is precious. Yet it all changes. And there is grief.
I found a photo of myself when I was seven months old. I look into that sweet baby’s face and feel such love for her. Her softness, her open expression. Her innocence. I look at my daughter, a lovely soul, and remember the delicious intimacy of holding her.
Life is doing what it does. I’m so grateful that I am, that I’ve gotten to be this person. It’s just passing so quickly.
A Hot Tomato
SoulCollage® Committee Suit: Hot Tomato
I am one who is juicy and curvy and full of life. I am sweet and tangy. I am tempting. I am the dame they call a Hot Tomato.
What is your gift or message for me?
Be in the fullness of your body. Take up space. Tomatoes go with everything.
What do you want me to do?
Show yourself off to the world. Be proud of your abundance.
Why did you show up today?
Because you’re ripe.
If you have a shadow, what would it be? Or, what light do you offer?
The shadow is over-ripeness, fruit rotting on the vine. The light is celebration.
No Matter
“Listen to me, your body is not a temple. Temples can be destroyed and desecrated. Your body is a forest — thick canopies of maple trees and sweet scented wildflowers sprouting in the underwood. You will grow back, over and over, no matter how badly you are devastated.”
–Beau Taplin
Lying and Defiance in Children
The topic of defiance has popped up in my life in several places recently, and so today I share some reflections on it.
When I did my practicum as a therapist in training, I worked at a private mental hospital. In my work with children, they would sometimes describe a home life that sounded unreal, because the details were horrific. Some of these kids, to all appearances, came from “normal” middle-class lives. So I wondered: Could they be telling the truth? Are these kids making up stories? What is real?
I came to a conclusion. The question about truth or lies is a distraction from the underlying need. For some reason, the child is telling this story. It is an expression of need for safety, connection, love. There is a place for determining whether abuse is really occurring, but in a therapy session the goal is to be a loving, open presence with the other soul. To be concerned about whether the child is “pulling one over on me” would not serve.
I also worked with defiant children. Fundamentally, a defiant child is a deeply frightened child. Kids with a tendency to defy authority have strong wills; this quality is neutral. In fact, a strong will can provide energy and discipline to accomplish many goals.
There may be no outwardly apparent reason for a child to be terrified. Some of this is innate to personality. Or, there may be additional exacerbating factors: loss of a parent, abuse, instability at home. The bottom line is the child is afraid and protecting herself or himself by refusing connection.
This type of personality is very challenging to one’s patience. It isn’t easy to reach these souls. It is tempting to call such a child a bad seed, to want to punish and force his will to conform. This won’t work. The only approach is to build trust and connection, which these children are slow to respond to but desperately need.
One resource I found helpful in my work, and even in my personal life, is the book by Dr. Stanley Greenspan: The Challenging Child: Understanding, Raising, and Enjoying the Five “Difficult” Types of Children . His approach of “floor time” with kids — spending 30 minutes a day of time on the floor, playing whatever the child chooses — is an excellent way to build connection. You can also learn more at his website.
A Love Letter to My Daughter
Today is my daughter’s seventh birthday.
Dear Bean,
Happy birthday to you! Now you are seven, and you are becoming such an interesting person! I am writing this to you, and sharing it with the world, as a way to honor who you are.
Like me, you are gifted with curiosity, intensity, creativity, and emotional expression. You love life and meet it fully. Your passion for animals and stories deepens with each year. Your best buddies are the dozens and dozens of stuffies in our house. You make up stories with your realistic plastic animals as well as Calico Critters using teeny tiny toys. You make boxes into animals, houses, and caves. All objects are fair game for being morphed into different uses and incorporated into stories.
Right now you want to be a marine biologist when you grow up. This is a recent change from wanting to be a National Park Ranger. You’ve also wanted to be an animal rescuer, paleontologist, rancher, or veterinarian. You have watched so many David Attenborough wildlife specials that you’ve picked up the British pronunciation of some words, like “territory.” In the U.S. we say “tare-a-tory” and in Britain it’s “tare-a-tree.” You watch dinosaur shows and understand the classifications of the Triassic, Jurassic, and Cretaceous epochs like nobody’s business, not to mention the Cambrian, Ordovician, Devonian, Carboniferous, and Permian ages.
Ironically, you are a reluctant reader. You are an auditory learner, and you have always loved being read to. You will sit for hours as long as the reader indulges you and her voice holds. You savor the intimacy of being read to. Although you are in first grade, you comprehend material that is several grades beyond. I suspect you can read more than you will admit. Remember the conversation we had about this?
I sussed out that you were expecting to learn the entire English language before reading on your own. I thought it was because you have a perfectionist streak and feared making errors. You told me it was because the work of de-coding words is hard. Once I clarified that there is no way to ever learn the entire language, and that reading is one of the crucial skills to doing anything in life, you offered to read. But you only do it on a barter basis — you’ll read one “baby” book (as you refer to with scorn anything you are currently able to read, like the Bob series) — if I read you a more complex book. You have a memory for concepts, words, and experiences that takes me by surprise.
Yet you are also visual. Only recently have you been able to tolerate watching movies. Your ability to slip into the story completely and the intensity of the visual stimulus bring the stories alive in a very real way for you. You understand intellectually about story structure — protagonists and antagonists, about plot, conflict, suspense, and conclusions — but understanding with the mind does not override your ability to immerse yourself.
You are a scientist. You form hypotheses about situations and test them. You engineer pipe cleaners and popsicle sticks into contraptions, and Scotch tape is your go-to adhesive. You like the Goldieblox toys and all the open-ended options within. You want to know why and how things work. You want to know the origins of words. You watched the Cosmos series by Neil Degrasse Tyson and it triggered a response of awe that brought you to tears. You love the Bedtime Math problems, which I apologize that we don’t do often enough for your taste.
You are a philosopher. You wonder if there is a god and imagine the possibilities of what that manifests. You view the cycle of life with equanimity. You ponder the ethics of eating meat. You are concerned about how humans treat each other. You worry about the fate of humankind and the environment. We have shielded you from much of the news of the world; soon enough you will learn harsh realities.
You are a visual artist. You enjoy a variety of media — pencil, crayon, pastel, paint. You enjoy drawing, sculpting, painting, and collage. Your favorite color remains yellow with pink being the next favorite. You enjoy crafts such as sticky mosaic, perler beads, and making no-sew pillows. You want me to teach you to knit and sew. (I will!)
You are a writer. You create characters and stories all the time. Every day we walk to and from school we make up a story together. Frankly, it exhausts me! You play on your own for hours making up intricate plots and conflicts for your characters to resolve.
You are a musician. While you haven’t yet taken up an instrument, you are an enthusiastic singer. You won’t listen to classical music because there is no singing (except opera which none of us likes). You want to be Melissa Etheridge when you grow up. You still love the Music Together CDs, and you also enjoy folk and alternative rock music.
You are an athlete. You swim and play in water like a fish. You love to run and feel the wind. Your body often frustrates you with its petite frame; there are tasks you want to do that you lack the hand and arm strength to accomplish. At the same time, you are stronger that you realize, and we encourage you to try several times before giving up.
As for your personality, you are complex. You have a strong will and a desire to direct your life as well as the lives of others. When you play with other kids, you have plots and roles for every person and a story you want them to play. Collaboration challenges you. You feel big feelings and they sometimes overwhelm you. It scares me, actually, because I feel unskilled at helping you calm down. (Which is an odd statement for a former therapist to make, but it’s oh-so-different when it’s a personal relationship.) You feel big love.
Here’s an example of the big love. At tuck-in one night, you began relating to me how you felt thinking about Voyager taking one last look back at earth as it passed Neptune, and how it felt so lonely. (This is from the Cosmos series.) It was leaving forever, would never see its parents again. You burst into sobs. Later you also asked if parents ever get rid of their kids (after I reassured you we’d only let you go when you wanted). I delicately answered that sometimes people aren’t ready to raise kids. You asked where they go, and I said there are foster parents and families, and sometimes they adopt the children they foster. You screwed your face up and bravely announced that if we ever fostered a child, you are willing to leave the family and go out into the world to make room for the child. And then you sobbed. We went downstairs to tell Daddy all this. He and I held you, loved on you, acknowledged the very brave gift you offered. We also told you we would never get rid of you, or disown you. I asked you if you felt like you needed more attention, and you clung to me and cried. If I could have brought you back inside my body to comfort you, I would have.
Seven years ago I met you and did not have an inkling of the richness you would bring to my life. I was born too, into motherhood, and you have been as much my teacher as I have been yours. You are marvelous and adorable. I am grateful to be your mother. I love you beyond expression or comprehension. Happy birthday, Sunshine Girl, my Bean Bear!
How to Love
This video was played at church Sunday for the kids. While it seems sad, it provided a seed for discussion. We watched it again this morning. Bean’s thoughts about what the squid could do: “Stroke the boats, like a cat. Or find submarines to hang out with.” We talked about how you don’t have to possess someone to love her; if we hold too tight we hurt the person’s spirit and destroy the love. Being NEXT TO someone is not the same as being alone.
SoulCollage® Companion Suit
I am one who lives intimately with the roots of the earth. I am one who is hardy. I am one who moves deliberately. I am one who travels at the speed of eternity. I carry the earth and its Source in me.
The Dark Path to Enlightenment
“We seldom go freely into the belly of the beast. Unless we face a major disaster like the death of a friend or spouse or loss of a marriage or job, we usually will not go there. As a culture, we have to be taught the language of descent. That is the great language of religion. It teaches us to enter willingly, trustingly into the dark periods of life. These dark periods are good teachers. Religious energy is in the dark questions, seldom in the answers. Answers are the way out, but that is not what we are here for. But when we look at the questions, we look for the opening to transformation. Fixing something doesn’t usually transform us. We try to change events in order to avoid changing ourselves. We must learn to stay with the pain of life, without answers, without conclusions, and some days without meaning. That is the path, the perilous dark path of true prayer.”
—Richard Rohr, Everything Belongs: The Gift of Contemplative Prayer
Open Wide to Love
My OA sponsor wrote and asked me how I’m doing, and am I tracking my food intake as I’d intended. I wrote her back, but I’m putting it “out there” as well.
—————–
I began tracking my food after we met using an app on my phone. Then I stopped when I realized it required entering meals right away — there’s no way to go back and do it later. I understand why — to induce awareness. So in short, no.
And then, on Monday, I went to Target in the evening to get toothpaste and hair ties. When I set foot in the store, I KNEW I was going to buy some Easter candy. I was keenly aware of this part of myself, and the aware part of myself was saying, “Really? Come on! Let’s not.” But the primal part carried out the acquisition. I sat in the car, eating two Reeses’ eggs and a 5 oz. chocolate bunny. And none of it even TASTED good. There was no enjoyment. There was just the impulse to finish. I didn’t reach out to you or Hub. I didn’t tell Hub. I threw away the trash. Note to self: maybe it would be good to avoid Target at night, though it didn’t used to be a problem. Then again, there’s more to this — it’s not just about Target.
So I was meeting with my friend Sofia (who is a spiritual facilitator) Tuesday and explored this. Here’s what I noticed: I go through life unconsciously with tight stomach muscles, as if I’m holding myself together. When I realize this and relax, I feel the expansion and pressure on my clothing. It feels a little bit freeing, and also out of control. So I’ve just practiced noticing and relaxing, being curious over how it feels to be “all out there.” Because the deeper wisdom in me sees that being obese is a form of protection. I am afraid of my power. I have the power, and it takes about 50 extra pounds to quell it.
Right now I’m not prodding myself with “why?” Why? What am I afraid of? Hell, as if knowing in my mind I could transform and fix it. Instead, I’m meeting that part of myself. Instead of power struggle, it feels like an invitation. “I see that you’re afraid. May I just keep you company?” And if Primal Me wants to eat something that Wisdom realizes my body doesn’t need, then Wisdom is connecting with Primal Me where she’s at. Wisdom isn’t completely silent. She says, “I see you’re pouring a bowl of Raisin Bran and adding walnuts. Are you hungry?” Primal Me says, “I just WANT it. And I WILL HAVE IT.” Wisdom says, “Okay, you take care of yourself. I’m here if you want or need me.”
On one hand this looks like a recipe (hah!) for condoning destructive behavior. But it FEELS different. There’s a very young part of me — Primal Me — that has urges, needs, wants, and doesn’t know how to get them met except by consuming. I’ve judged her, deprived her of love and attention, for decades. Gaining her trust and helping her heal will probably take more time than my ego would like. But Wisdom knows that’s how true healing occurs. And in fact, I have been healing for the past couple of years. It started with Honesty Salons, and Ecstatic Dance. In the past year I’ve lived increasingly through intuition, working with Sofia. Then I took the SoulCollage® facilitator training, and committed to a spiritual community at the Los Gatos UU Fellowship. I’m in therapy (since December), and have met you.
So it’s happening. And yes, I would like to weigh less and move more, with power and strength. My body hurts. I worry how the weight compromises my abilities and health; I worry about the message I’m giving my daughter. But apparently Ego can’t force this. It’s a process beyond “me” and yet I’m part of it. Does this make sense?
I am one who is small and frightened, who needs protection. I am one who wanted protection. I am one who wants an all-present Mother, who wants tenderness.
SoulCollage®
I’ve been working on uploading my SoulCollage® cards to share. You can find the link to them here.
Glimpses of My Daughter at Age Six
Glimpses of My Daughter At Age Six
She is a sunflower-yellow
hourglass with a
center of nipple pink intensity
bouncing, twirling, burbling, squawking
like a Steller’s jay.
She is inside with Peter, Paul, and Mary,
multiplying three times infinity
in her rocking chair.
She is an apple, crisp and fresh,
the guitar singing melodies
sometimes jarring and jangling ears.
She’s a meandering stream of galaxies,
an ancient Redwood soul, not
fearing abandonment –
a kaleidoscope of wonder.
–Kathryn Harper
Be Mighty, Be Daring
I enjoy creating in so many ways. My friend L (mom of one of Bean’s friends) and I are developing an informal girl group. After spending many years driving to see friends (which we’ll continue doing) we want to create friendships and develop deeper connections in the neighborhood.
After careful consideration, we decided to forgo Girl Scouts for a number of reasons:
- They require parents having contact with girls to take training (online and in-person) and get fingerprinted. Our intention is to create an informal group of people we know and trust and make it easier for mothers to be involved.
- Secondly, GS is divided by age, and we believe there are benefits to girls interacting across multiple age and grade levels. We hope the girls will be involved as they grow up and develop good friendships.
- Lastly, we want to avoid the pressure of selling things to raise funds. We prefer to focus on developing activities and sharing the cost rather than have our activities defined by how much money the girls earn.
We plan to meet monthly. We have ideas of home-based activities to do; we also want to incorporate outings. For outings, each parent pays for her children and herself (if there are fees). To cover supplies for at-home activities, we suggest a nominal annual amount per child. We are researching the supplies and calculating costs.
While we want to have fun, we’re reaching beyond play dates. Our goal is to help our daughters become vibrant, confident, and engaged with the world. We want to nurture the development of their minds, souls, and bodies (and mother earth), and foster qualities such as integrity, curiosity, resiliency, and creativity. We are using several resources for ideas (adjusting for age with some activities):
A Mighty Girl
The Daring Book for Girls & The Double-Daring Book for Girls
What Do You Stand For? A Kids Guide to Building Character
So the girls and moms have a unifying element and develop a sense of belonging, we’re looking for inexpensive yellow t-shirts (a color that is sunny and gender-neutral). The quote we’re using is from Shakespeare: “Though she be but little, she is fierce.” That will be on the front, and on the back will be our group name: Mighty Daring Girls.
Our first meeting is March 2, and we have 8-9 girls interested!
Remembering Stella
Two weeks ago today I was spending the last precious hours with Stella before she died. Today I cleaned up the cat box and litter genie, which I’d been putting off — and not just because it’s an odious task. Bit by bit I’m packing up and storing cat toys, bowls, and so on. Evidence of her existence is disappearing. It may be strange, but I haven’t vacuumed yet; there are little dust balls of fur on floor corners. These tasks reinforce the permanence and irreversibility of the situation.
But rather than dwell on sadness, I want to take time to remember traits we loved about Stella.
In 1999 I decided to adopt two cats, so they’d keep each other company. I wanted an all-black cat. I went to the home of a couple who fostered 30 cats in their home. In one room were 10 cats, and as I sat on the floor the only black cat came right up to me and meowed. I reached out to touch her and she shoved her head into my hand, rubbing and purring. Then she climbed onto me. That was it. I also selected another cat, a beautiful gray and white cat since they were familiar to each other. This other cat, Zoe, was a special needs cat; she’d been psychologically traumatized as a teeny kitten and was skittish. But she was gorgeous, and I knew no one else would want her. So they came home with me. Five months later I also adopted an 8-week old cat whom I named Sophie. (A friend rescued a pregnant cat and Sophie was the prettiest of the bunch.) Here they are in Austin in a pile of cuddle.
When I brought Sophie home, Stella adopted her. I assume Stella had given birth (she wasn’t spayed when I got her), because she carried Sophie around in her mouth. Sophie kneaded Stella’s belly and would suckle her for many minutes, and Stella — to my surprise — allowed it. She’d groom Sophie too. Sophie was petite — never weighed more than seven pounds — so this went on for a couple of years. At some point Stella got tired of her belly being occupied and started batting Sophie away.
Once Stella was spayed, she gained a lot of weight. At one point she weighed 21 pounds, and we dubbed her as Large and In Charge. She had a personality the size of Texas and the friendliness to match. We tried to regulate her food intake and give her diet cat food, but she stayed big until about two years ago. Her size never stopped her from enjoying life.
When we moved to California, we found a new home for Zoe. Poor Zoe was fragile; a sneeze would send her racing off the couch and out of the room. She spent the majority of her life hiding in the box spring of the bed in the guest room. We knew she would not survive the transition across country. So we took Stella and Sophie with us. We got them harnesses in order to use leashes when they weren’t in the carriers. They loathed them. Here’s a photo of them during a trial run before the move. You can tell how thrilled they aren’t.
We all survived. Sure, we had to figure out a way to bathe Stella in El Paso after she peed on herself in the carrier. And we had to dig Sophie out from under a seat because we made the mistake of letting them out of their carriers while we stopped for a bite to eat. I wanted them to have some stretching room, which was a mistake. And Stella bitched at us the entire trip. Seriously, all 1,700 miles. The thing about Stella is that she was highly opinionated and expressive. I swore there was some Siamese in her. I wish I’d taken videos of our conversations. And if she was asleep or just sitting quietly with her cat thoughts and you said her name from across the room, she’d burst into purrs. I would meow and make other cat-talk noises, and she’d respond. We had many long conversations, although I haven’t a clue what they were about.
Stella had the special distinction of being at our wedding. We had an intimate wedding at home, and she took her place by the altar. You can’t see her face since she was looking to the side, but that distinctive black furry lump is her. Sophie, however, hid. Stella was always up for action.
Stella loved her toys. She would take Beanie Babies (especially Bean’s) and carry them around the house like kittens and cuddle them. Other times they were prey, and she’d deliver them to my feet. One neighbor who did cat sitting bought Stella a mouse toy that she loved for years. She would walk around the house carrying it by the pompom in her mouth, all the while yowling and chirruping in her throat. And sometimes she walked around the house talking urgently, and Hub and I would joke, “What’s wrong, Stella? What’s that? Little Timmy fell down the well?”
Stella adored being brushed and would even let me love her belly. She had complete trust and confidence in me. In turn, she would clean us. If permitted, Stella would lick your hand, arm, or neck until your next layer of epidermis was exposed. She took care of me just as she did Sophie. But I have a photo of her with Sophie.
She also had a taste for chlorine. If I had used Chlorox, she’d lick me for hours, and sometimes nibble. It had an effect similar to catnip.
Stella was adaptable. She tolerated trips to the vet with only vocal protests. The vet techs would often comment on how patient and accepting she was during exams, blood draws, shots, and so on. Stella also barfed a lot. She’d eat too much too fast. And as she got older, her hyperthyroidism would make her sick. She had a habit of meowing in a particular way — pitch and volume — that we knew would be followed by puking. So we’d be able to scoop her off furniture and carpets if we moved fast enough. That made clean up much easier.
If there was a sunspot, you’d find her in it.
But she and Sophie also made use of artificial light in the colder months. Getting work done at my home desk was a challenge.
She had a penchant for Wheat Thins. She also loved soft cat treats. If I called the word “treats” in a high pitch in a way that sounded like a question, she’d come lumbering from where she was, talking excitedly. She also loved the outdoors and attempted to sneak out at every chance.
During my pregnancy, Sophie died of heart failure. It was sudden and tragic. She and Stella were quite a pair, and I was devastated. I have always relished this photo I took of them:
Stella was a high-contact cat, at least with me. She’d come up and rub her head against mine and try to lick my hair. When I was pregnant we napped together on the sofa every day. When we brought Bean home and Stella was displaced from her doted-upon status, she accepted it with grace.
She was never aggressive to Bean. In fact, she attempted to groom Bean as she did everyone else. As you can tell from Bean’s expression, it was a weird sensation.
She also enjoyed her kitty television.
Stella, oh Stella, you were quite a cat.
We love you.