I asked the zebra
Are you black with white stripes?
Or white with black stripes?
And the zebra asked me,
Or you good with bad habits?
Or are you bad with good habits?
Are you noisy with quiet times?
Or are you quiet with noisy times?
Are you happy with some sad days?
Or are you sad with some happy days?
Are you neat with some sloppy ways?
Or are you sloppy with some neat ways?
And on and on and on and on
And on and on he went.
I’ll never ask a zebra
About stripes
Again.–Shel Silverstein
Clarity
“There are moments when a kind of clarity comes over you, and suddenly you can see through walls to another dimension that you’d forgotten or chosen to ignore in order to continue living with the various illusions that make life, particularly life with other people, possible.”
– Nicole Krauss
One Detail
When I dyed my hair purple for the first time five months ago, I did it for myself. I was turning 50, and I wanted to mark the occasion. Since that time, I’ve reapplied the dye three times. It starts out dark purple and fairly quickly fades to a fuchsia color. I knew it would make me stand out in a crowd. What I didn’t know was the good it would do.
I have only ever received compliments and sometimes rave reviews about my hair. Never a negative word. This comes from construction workers driving by, shouting out, “Love your hair!” And from grandmothers who touch my shoulder and smile and say the same thing. Little kids smile and ask why I have purple hair. I answer that I had a big birthday and wanted a party on my head. Adults also asked why I colored it. Sometimes I give them the straight answer; other times I say that I woke up on my 50th birthday, and my hair had turned purple. Last week in a museum restroom, as I washed my hands, a woman waiting said she loved my hair. She said, “It makes me happy!” Walking to school with Bean one morning, a young man passed us and said hi and “Love your hair.” I said thanks, and a few steps later he stopped and turned, adding “Your hair just made my morning.” I replied that I was happy to have been able to do that.
It’s an interesting experience for a fairly introverted person receive as much attention as I’ve gotten. It pleases me, of course, yet it also pulls me into the world, into connection with people, which I am often reluctant to do. But wait, there’s more! It seems as though having a colorful head does something else. It genuinely pleases others. It inspires joy in others. It adds a little color to the world. Goodness knows we can all benefit from more joy and color. I’ve jokingly said that it’s my ministry. One detail changed. So much good fun.
Reunion
Reunion
Shiver quiver chill
fall rain embraces the hills
to kiss them green again.
–Kathryn Harper
Overheard Yesterday
As they waited to retrieve their children from school at day’s end, a few parents were talking about their children’s Halloween costumes. One mother said her daughter didn’t want to just wear the princess costume, because it was too plain. In her story, the daughter said, “Mommy, I want you to bedazzle it!” The woman said, “Honey, I don’t know what you mean by that. What does bedazzle mean?”
The mother laughed and continued, “Then she said Oh Mommy, put some bling-bling on it, and sparkles, and make it shine!” The adults chuckled and the mother added, “Heh, little whore!”
The child to whom she referred was her kindergartner. There were preschoolers present with the parents. And I thought… who taught this little girl about “bling-bling” and dazzle? Who is the gatekeeper for exposure to these ideas? And why would any parent refer to her child this way, even in jest? I felt sad for the little girl who, by wanting what she’d been taught to want, was judged for it — by her own mother, no less.
Which?
Keiji, a long-time Zen student, approached his master and said: “I don’t see how there can be any enlightenment that sets you free once and for all. I think we just get ever greater glimpses of Buddha-nature, the vastness that is our true Reality. It’s an ever-expanding process.”
The master replied, “That may be what you think. But what is your experience, your experience right now?”
Keiji was confused, “My experience right now, Master?”
“Yes. Do you know yourself as Keiji, having ever-expanding experiences of Buddha-nature? Or do you know yourself as Buddha-nature, having the experience of Keiji?
Steps
Some more thoughts from my last post — a little progress report.
I met with the director of volunteers at the Hospice of the Valley. I came away with an internal tension. One one end, I feel the calling to work the the dying and the grieving. On the other is the rest of my life, which involves parenting a lively child just entering kindergarten, being on the PTA, and being involved in other projects. The training for volunteers working with patients is intensive. However, they do have a need for administrative support, and the training for that is easier for me to attend. So I’ve contacted her to ask a few questions about time commitments, and so on. I feel that Life is saying to me that one step in that direction is sufficient, and that it’s not time yet to delve further.
I’m on the waiting list to become trained as a SoulCollage facilitator at the next training. I hope I will get in. But then, if it doesn’t happen, it’s not the optimal moment.
I have several challenges ahead of me regarding the PTA at Bean’s school. There are a number of transitions occurring, and the incoming board (of which I’m a part) has less experience than the previous. Tending to the needs of fundraising and community building needs to be my focus.
We continue to attend the UU Fellowship in Los Gatos. I feel the path widening there, as though I’m entering a fulsome space of community.
I’ve been working in bits and pieces on transitioning my art supplies to the office.
And I continue to dwell in spacious curiosity.
Flow
A whole month passed without a post, though I’d thought about it. I’ve been immersed in some personal work and stepping out into new areas that feel exciting. The depression has abated. I feel a need to write but am doing so with interruptions by my little girl and husband every so many minutes, so this post will be less polished.
We’ve been camping twice and will go again soon for the last summer trip. In June we went to Pfeiffer Big Sur, and in July we camped at Prairie Creek Redwoods. Our next trip is to Calaveras Big Trees. We like big trees and rivers a lot, and we like the ocean some. Camping is uncomfortable and requires more work, but it’s also relaxing and restful. My body aches in the morning from the less-than-ideal sleeping arrangement, but the peace I feel compensates. I am bathed in Being, in nature, in the Mystery; living outdoors brings complete contact with the world that creates itself.
After exploring the Quaker Society of Friends, I talked with Hub about where I’m at and what Bean wants. She wants to go to church. Hub was raised Unitarian Universalist and I attended as one years ago. It’s the best fit as far as spiritual community goes. Bean loved it the first time we visited two years ago. The Quaker group only had children’s program once a month, and unfortunately the one time I brought her no one else with children came, and there was no program. I realized, too, that I need and enjoy the ritual of a service. The Quaker service was traditional silent meeting with socializing after. The UU service includes the usual ingredients of a service: hymns, readings, sharing of joys and concerns, a sermon. Hub isn’t a seeker and doesn’t have the same community needs, but we came to the conclusion that the UU church is good for me and Bean. I attended the UU Fellowship in Los Gatos the past two weeks; both Bean and I enjoyed it, and the members are very welcoming.
I had a pilot zazen session on the first Saturday in July. I got cold feet and cancelled on the one person who’d signed up; then another friend last minute showed up. As I set up the small altar on my coffee table, it felt right, like putting on a perfectly fitting outfit. I also reached agreement with Hub that I will go to Hazy Moon Zen Center a couple times a year to attend sesshin and meet with my teacher.
I’ve continued attending salons called Intimacy With Truth, led by a dear friend. They occur in a format similar to Honesty Salons but move into deeper exploration within and between ourselves. I’m learning to listen to, trust, and speak from my intuition and truth. I’m also sitting with the idea of becoming trained to facilitate Honesty Salons or becoming a Getting Real Coach with Dr. Campbell.
I’m re-reading and incorporating the practice that Eckhart Tolle’s books explore. One thing I appreciate about his work is that he echoes my favorite quote, a koan I have cherished for years:
The secret is within your self. – Hui-Neng
Tolle claims that he’s not teaching anything that we don’t already have within us. His work is guidance to excavating it.
In conjunction, I’ve started to explore the process of healing offered by Al-Anon meetings.
After years of thinking about it, I attended a mixed-media collage Meetup at Lori Krein Studios. I immersed myself in the process and enjoyed it, as well as enjoyed the other people who attended. I’ll be going back.
This encounter with collage at the studio prompted me to rearrange my art supplies so they are stored in the same room as my work desk. Proximity will probably inspire more play!
I gathered my many small pieces of art into a binder, and I was astonished at the variety and amount. Seeing them all together gave me a surge of excitement to make more. A friend has suggested I have my own art show at home; I’m not ready to do that yet, but I’m ready to show and share from the binder.
I enrolled in a November training to learn a process called SoulCollage and to facilitate in groups. SoulCollage is a creative, meditative process of exploring one’s inner wisdom in all the ways it manifests. It’s rooted in Jungian psychology.
I’ve emphasized boundaries in certain relationships by limiting what I can listen to and discuss. The immersion in repeated stories about the problems of people I love when I cannot do anything to help was contributing to the depression.
Lastly, I’m contemplating becoming a volunteer at a hospice. For many years (since the mid-1990s) I’ve felt a pull toward it, and in 2004 I took steps in a parallel direction by training to provide grief support to survivors. It was the Centre for Living With Dying. However, my father-in-law was dying of cancer at the time, and I just didn’t have the energy to serve. Since that time the Centre was bought by another social service provider, and it seems they don’t use volunteers any more. But hospice does.
The call to hospice coincides with the sad news that a friend — Jen Bulik-Lang — who is only 35 is dying of stage-IV lung cancer. She began feeling ill in October 2012, and it took awhile for professionals to come to the correct diagnosis at the end of January 2013. She’d been shopping in December for engagement rings with her boyfriend, Jeffrey Lang. She got aggressive treatment, and there was hope they eradicated it, but in mid-June she received news it had metastasized to her spinal fluid. My insides quicken with grief and love as I watch her live with this news. She chose to celebrate life, and she and Jeff got married in a marvelous wedding. I admire Jen for embracing what is and fully experiencing it as a transformation with the faith, as she says, “that [it] will benefit the highest good for all those concerned.”
So in all, the shift in my life is toward community and participating in healing myself, others, and the world. As I wrote that last sentence my self-talk was, “Boy, that sounds lofty and new-Agey, and grandiose.” And yet… The world is broken and insane and aches for love.
Sometimes a Retreat is an Advance
I’d sunk into a swamp of depression. Why bother going? It was only overnight. I cancelled, one day too late to get a refund. So I went.
Nearly there, I found the road blocked. The tunnel said “Under construction.” What next? Go back home? Try to find another way and arrive late? No and no.
So I broke rules. I drove around the barricade and through the tunnel. There was no ditch to fall into, no rubble to hit. I arrived. I showed up.
Teacher saw me and leaped with joy – literally! She hugged me, and I began to cry. Twenty of us sat in slience; we walked in silence. Zazen is painful drudgery. But the tears subsided.
I sat. I counted my breaths. I walked. I ate. I slept. I met privately with my teacher.
Sick of being mom, managing my child? Then be an easy mother!
Lonely? Get out of the Internet echo chamber. Talk to a person.
Bored? Reflect on what resonates; listen for my voice.
Scared about new responsibility? Just show up. Do the next task.
Stop hiding in the house. The world is right here and now.
Later, walking on the beach alone, I found rusty rose starfish washed ashore. It fit the palm of my hand. It was alive! Waiting for a return ride on the tide.
Hello, friend.
I looked up. Saw a man. Decided this discovery was too good to keep to myself. So I went up to him and shared. And he smiled and marveled. And then I did it again, with a woman jogging. And again, with another woman!
Their eyes widened, awakened. They smiled with the joy of the encounter.
Hello, friend.
****************************
Words swept from my mind
Scatter like moths in the wind
Wave meets rock meets wave
When I Am An Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple
Red Beans and Rice
I think Popeye’s Red Beans and Rice dish is incredibly yummy. I’ve searched for their recipe without luck, and so I’ve been experimenting. I believe I have discovered the closest approximation to their dish. It came out so savory, with lots of umami.
Red Beans and Rice (Crockpot)
1 pound dried red beans
2 to 2.5 lb. smoked pork shank
3 bay leaves
2 stalks celery, finely chopped
1 bell pepper (any color), finely chopped
2 large onions, finely chopped
5 cloves garlic, minced
4 Tbsp. bacon fat
1 tsp. thyme
1/4 to 1/2 tsp. cayenne pepper
1 tsp. black pepper
1 Tbsp. salt
1.75 to 2 quarts water
3/4 cup instant mashed potatoes
This can be made in a pot on the stove as well but requires more attention.
Sort and rinse beans, then soak overnight. Drain and rinse beans. Put the ham shank into a 4 qt. crockpot and add the beans and bay leaves. Melt the bacon fat in a saucepan; add the finely chopped vegetables and sautee until onions are translucent and veggies are softening. Mix in the thyme, cayenne, black pepper, and salt with the vegetables and stir. Pour this over the beans and ham in the crockpot. Add the water. It’s okay if some ham is exposed; it will cook down. Cover and turn the crockpot onto high for about six hours. (If using stove top, bring the mixture to a boil, then turn it down to simmer.) The goal is for the veggies to melt away into the broth as much as possible.
Remove the ham shank (it will be very tender and fall apart). Let cool a bit and then chop into small pieces. Throw away the extra fat and bones. Use a masher and mash the red beans in the pot, then return the meat to the crockpot and stir. Turn heat down to low and add the instant mashed potatoes to thicken. It is ready to serve then, but it can cook on low or warm for another hour or so.
Cook white or brown rice of your choice according to the directions on the package. Spoon rice into a bowl and ladle beans on top. Enjoy!
A Small Marvel
I really like David Attenborough, and I think the Vogel Cup Bowerbird is amazing – here.
Daffodil Time
The Parentified Child
Emotional Parentification
Emotional Parentification is when a child is given the responsibility of looking after the emotional and psychological needs of the parent and/or the other siblings.
This can include the case where the parent begins to confide in the child, discussing their problems and their issues, and using the child as a surrogate for a spouse or a therapist. This kind of emotional parentification is sometimes referred to as “emotional incest”.
Physical or Instrumental Parentification
Physical Parentification is when a child is given the responsibility of looking after the physical needs of the parent and/or the other siblings. This can include duties such as cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, paying bills, managing the household budget, getting kids ready for school, supervising homework, dispensing medications etc.
Physical parentification is different from assigning household chores to children, which is a normal and healthy practice. Assigning chores becomes dysfunctional when it reaches a level where the real parent abdicates their own responsibility for the care of the children, where the task assigned is beyond the developmental maturity of the child or where the assigned duties leave little or no time for the child to engage in normal childhood activities, play, peer friendships, schooling or sleep.
Adults parentified as children experience the following things:
- Fear that they cannot adequately meet their own expectations and demands
- Poor self-esteem
- A feeling of disconnection from their real self
- Feelings of incompetence
- Underestimation of their own intelligence
- Overestimation of the importance of others
- Shame, guilt, anxiety and depression
- Feeling like they’re still children, who can’t cope with being adults
- Taking on the role of caretaker
- Work addiction
- Codependency/Acceptance of too much responsibility
Also of value: The Narcissistic Family: Diagnosis and Treatment
Where I’m At
Allie Brosh sums it up beautifully. While I am not soul-crushingly depressed as she was, even a bout of soul-pinching depression has deleterious effects. It’s insidious. I’ve known something is askew, but stumbling in the fog I wasn’t clear about it specifically. Until I read Allie’s Depression Part 2 post, and found myself re-reading it about 10 times a day since, as well as her first post about depression. The fog cleared just enough to identify that yes, I am depressed. I used to get into a bout of it in springtime in years past; it had been a few years, and I’d forgotten about that.
First: Adventures in Depression by Allie Brosh @ Hyperbole and a Half
Second: Depression Part 2 by Allie Brosh @ Hyperbole and a Half
Over the past months I have slogged through feeling:
Hopeless
Helpless
Unmotivated
Pessimistic
Irritable
Angry
Sad
Exhausted
Isolated
Disconnected
Listless
Restless
Insomnia
Foggy-brained
Absent libido
You might argue that this is the human condition. And while that is true to a point, experiencing all these feelings consistently for the past many weeks signifies something is wrong.






