Pulling Down the Branches

"This..."

2011-10-06T00:31:00.000-04:00

"This odyssey is..."

[fill in the blank]

Solitary

2011-03-27T17:13:00.003-04:00

Snowfall in Victorian Village, 2010
my turn to shovel our walks

This morning, I watched a National Geographic program on the effects of solitary confinement on inmates. In particular the program focused on a penitentiary in Pennsylvania that houses only inmates in solitary confinement. In the case of this prison, the inmates are kept in solitary for a minimum of 18 months, average of two years, and five years is not atypical. Medical and biological tests are conclusive: this type of inhumane treatment produces exactly the opposite as to what is intended -- inmates who are less capable of dealing with other people and the psychological tests of this life.

Included in the major impacts are:

A visceral need to be hyper-diligent in awareness of surroundings
An inability to build or sense community
A lack of impulse control and tendency toward compulsive behavior

What is interesting to me, is that this happens to us all.

As we become more isolated by our neighbors, we become more fearful of them and increase our isolation from them. It becomes impossible to build community where thriving communities once stood. Take for example, neighborhoods and kids. Where kids are isolated from their neighborhoods to go to school (through bussing, etc), the neighbors can no longer effectively care for the kids. Distance grows and people become afraid of each other. Kids are increasingly isolated and become more afraid of strangers in their daily travels. Kids become connected to kids with the same fears (no families; no community) and create their own through mechanisms like gangs. Remember, that the part of our brains that develops and controls discernment doesn't begin to be engaged until late teenage or early adulthood.

Then, think about the people you know who are addicts. Substance abuse often emanates from the loneliness of isolation (whatever type of isolation that may be).

At my home in Columbus' Victorian Village, I knew all of my neighbors. We sat on our front porches. We supported and looked out for one another. We knew that if there were problems we were not alone. Not so much here in Cleveland. I, for one, am without a job and feeling professionally isolated. My neighborhood has become rougher around the edges and people are more personally isolated. I have been not feeling like walking the neighborhood and I've been drinking too much. Too much.

But all of that is about to change. It is spring and a time for renewal. I have been outside, raking the leaves, tending my garden, and walking the neighborhood. I have reached out to area non-profits and offered my services. I am still not feeling very well, but I am feeling better.

So, when you see that neighbor who is alone or that kid walking home from school, engage them. Look them in the eye and notice they are there. Say, "hello." Every time. Until they hear you.

This is how we may begin to regain our neighborhoods and our selves. It may help people and communities who were thought to be unreachable regain a sense of peace.

Friends...and Facebook

2011-03-05T18:35:00.000-05:00

Facebook is has been an interesting journey for me. Immediately upon joining I reconnected literally with hundreds of people with whom I spent my childhood -- their children were on FB and so were they. It was nothing but shear pleasure to see pictures of their children, communicate about life as it is and share in the sorrows and joys of our lives now reconnected.

I have made friends on FB....probably dozens of people who were connected to me through friends that have now become real and sometimes just virtual parts of my daily support system. I have seen relationships rise and fall and rise again. I have seen people find jobs, love, work... I have learned and taught; loved, laughed, angered and been provoked to action because of Facebook. I have traveled, donated, purchased items when people were in need because of what I read. I have been moved to fit of giggle and tears.

A very sad thing happened, though. In part, because of Facebook, I have lost a friend. A friend who is really struggling with the transitions and ironies in life about whom I have come to deeply care. I offended her in ways completely unintended. My opinions and means of voicing them struck a chord in her that was so unpleasant that she chose to end the relationship. And so it goes.

Who knows what the future may bring?

In the loss of interaction with a friend, and in the spirit of all of the friendships that brighten my day, I am brought back to the word of Ruiz and his "Four Agreements."

Be impeccable with your word
Don't take anything personally
Don't make assumptions
Always do your best

Yes. I will continue to live by these words.

The "Decider"

2011-01-07T19:53:00.000-05:00

It's not so much that I'm the decider, but maybe it's more that I am action oriented.

On October 1st, I found out that my tenants in my Cleveland home were moving to South Carolina. The house is in a neighborhood that needs attention all of the time and I basically stationed myself there for the remainder of 2010 to "sit with it" -- to get a feel for the house; to deal with Michael's death and the remnants of his life; to fix the house and most importantly to decide which house I would live in. I'm not interested in being a landlord. I just want a peaceful life without worrying about how someone is treating my $300K investment.

So, I decided I wasn't going to decide...at least not until the end of the year. But in my way of thinking, by some miracle of life, I should have gained clarity on which decision was the right one during my self-imposed indecisive/nonaction purgatory.

And purgatory it was. It nearly put me out of my mind. I became bitter, neurotic, absent-minded, grouchy, sad and self-pitying. All behaviors and feelings that cycled back on themselves and resonated with the ugliness of having no plan of action is for me.

And, then, like the miracle itself, the new year came. 2011. Not only a new year; but, a new decade. If there is a God, he or she or it shone its light on me and said, "There are decisions to be made from a series of good choices." For the first time in years I had the opportunity to make a decision about where and how I would live -- and completely without external factors forcing a quick decision.

And I decided. And it is good.

Mea Culpa/Grato

2010-11-25T15:54:00.000-05:00

Well, you know... sometimes even I can behave like a beast. Sometimes I become overwhelmed by that sharp lonelyache that takes over any sense or reason. It is a hazard of a life well-lived and a life well-lived on the edge.

I haven't followed a traditional path. I am not moved by the mores or expectations of others. I am moved by my conscience; by what feels to me the right thing to do at the time. I am moved by truth and honesty and a visceral need to live within my own truth.

And sometimes I allow that truth to open wide and flood my space with the whole of its existence as if my life depends on it. Sometimes at the detriment of others. Sometimes utterances unforgettable; perhaps unforgivable.

So, on this Thanksgiving Day, I offer gratitude for friends and family; colleagues and community who continually offer safe respite for this heart living on the edge of what others may consider the line where white lies are appropriate. If not for those people who love me and support me in spite of myself, my life would not have the joy it does.

A Turning Point

2010-11-20T16:19:00.000-05:00

I haven't posted here for a while; I haven't had the urge to do it.

If you come here to this small place looking for me, you know where to find me. I am looking for civil (and sometimes less civil) passionate discourse about to make our communities a better place through our individual actions.

If you like, come by, sit for a spell. Talk about your world, your vision, your concern, your life.

As I figure it out, I will certainly post where my writing will be.

Namaste

Lush

2010-05-23T11:03:00.000-04:00

It's a beautiful Sunday morning. I'm sitting in my teeny back yard listening to the sound of birds chirping guarding what might be dozens of nests in this small space. I hear the flow of water in my small pond and listen to the sounds of the city going by.

I'm told the irony of this early spring is the deep snowfall we had on the ground until mid-March. It kept the ground insulated at around 32 degrees while the temperatures fell into the single digits at night during late winter. Everything is green and lush in it's late spring beauty bringing new life and growth into this world as we move into summer.

In the cacophony of life, there is a stillness that is unmistakable.

I feel much the same way:

insulated by the quiet and unrelenting winter snowfall
growing in to this stronger and healthier body
breathing life into what is next
feeling a part of the lushness of life

with gifts of great peace and stillness.

.earth.air.fire.water.

Encountering and Emptiness

2010-05-16T13:30:00.010-04:00

"The You encounters me by grace--it cannot be found by seeking. But that I speak the basic word to it is a deed of my whole being, is my essential deed.

The You encounters me. But I enter into a direct relationship to it. Thus the relationship is election and electing, passive and active at once: An action of the whole being must approach passivity, for it does away with all partial actions and thus with any sense of action, which always depends on limited exertions.

The basic word I-You can be spoken only with one's whole being. The concentration and fusion into a whole being can never be accomplished by me, can never be accomplished without me. I require a You to become; becoming I, I say You.

All actual life is encounter." ~Martin Buber, I and Thou

This is a passage from one of my favorite books, Buber's I and Thou. I most recently thought about it while talking with a dear friend about the Buddhist concept of the transient (or impermanent) nature of things and how you enter into relation with anything or anyone after the pain and fear of loss. Growing up Jewish with strong Buddhist leanings and alot of study, I perceive the transient nature of our experience as the common I-It experience -- an experience of subject-object and those things are indeed transient. It is important to accept the nature of the change of our world of objects, people, places, things.

I think of the concept of Buddhist emptiness more as the I-Thou (or I-You in the more modern Kaufmann translation) relation. We are an empty vessel with the capacity to filled with encounters of people, places, things, nature that extend through all time and space and connect us with the essence and source of being alive. It is that capacity for emptiness and non-attachment through which we may be clear vessels for the deepest type of experiences. Some may consider this the purest evidence of God, love, or our interconnectedness.

Through my own exploration of myself in the light of Buddhist philosophy, I found myself much better able to handle the change, loss, and love of this life. If we look at the potential of our experience to instead be encounters with all that is, we can move forward without fear and find more opportunity for joy.

Our I-Thou encounters, our moments of most profound emptiness are unique encounters between our hearts and our experience. They are moments we carry with us through all space and time, expanding our heart, enabling us to better work toward the relief of our own suffering, and that of others. They are unique to our whole being, our lives and they are the foundation of our individual worldview.

We may seek to repeat an encounter or to share our transcendent encounters with others. We must recognize that experience is different for everyone and that impermanence insists that we "may not step in the same river twice." [Heraclitus] We may seek to influence others by attempts to share what is innately personal, individual, and unique; however, we need mindfulness that our experience cannot be theirs. We need not fear this because as we look at the world with wonder we remind ourselves that we are empty vessels that can be filled with the vastness of the universe at any time; through any experience. As we bring loved ones to the places where we experience this wonder, we show them how to be in the world with a full heart, with compassion and courage.
--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..

I have heard people describe that when stepping to the rim of the Grand Canyon, they feel very small in relation to its vastness. In contrast I look at that enormous carving through the red rocks and feel as big as the entire universe and as old as all time, recognizing my connection to that place and to all that ever was there; allowing it, for as long as it will, to fill all space and time in my consciousness.

[photograph was taken in Santa Fe, NM Rio Grande Gorge, October 2005]

Motion

2010-05-15T17:33:00.000-04:00

As I sit reflecting on the stillness of this house, I am at peace with the fact that everything is in a state of change. In this quiet solitude, I find harmony in the flow of life.

I've Heard the Stories

2010-05-14T01:40:00.006-04:00

It took a while, but I started hearing the stories. Lashing out in public with bigoted remarks; fighting with police officers. Trying to beat up your husband when you were far too drunk to stand.

I heard the story about how you left when you went back to school. How you couldn't study your art living so close to him. How you expected him to be able to take care of everything and not grieve your departure. How you moved back, but into the apartment next door; later out of the apartment, but into a separate bedroom. Yet, then, you two still occasionally felt the strong desire of years of physical love.

I heard the more he adapted to your abandonment, the angrier you became. Like a moth trapped in a spiders' web, the more you fought the more you became stuck in the web of your own doing.

I heard the story about how you took a butcher knife and disemboweled his meditation pillow as if it were the heart and soul of your deteriorating marriage. I heard the story of the friends who provided him creature comforts when everything he had built his life around was physically threatened.

I heard how he left the house with nothing but the clothes on his body, a pillow and a sleeping bag.

I've been there when you pounded the windows, relentlessly, for hours. I've been around to hear you screaming on the phone, threatening to call the police because we were cooking together. I helped him when he lent you his car and you refused to return it for days; sometimes weeks.

I was there twice when you pinned me in the apartment with your car. And, actually, it was your sister-in-law's car. I cleaned up the mess when you covered both our cars in dog shit the frosty night before Easter 2008.

You have terrorized him for years. You have tried to terrorize me for a while. He worked so hard to build that life with you and you tore it down.

Although you terrorized us both, I did what was possible to help. I cared about you because I care about him. I'm not there for him now, but I will be there for him for the court proceedings...as will every person that I know that can speak to his goodness, kindness and humanity.

You had everything. After you left; even after he left he continued to provide you everything you could have possibly needed to the exclusion of everyone; including me. Still, you relentlessly pushed all of the good support you could have had away. I'm not there anymore; I'm not sure he's there any more. I don't know. We don't talk. We aren't walking in the same world these days.

I want you to understand: we do create the world we live in through our actions and intentions. It takes two people to intentionally live in harmony as lovers. It takes only one person to destroy that. You created the angry world you now live in. You did. You're there all by yourself.

Happy anniversary to you. Happy. Anniversary. To. You.

Mother's Day 2010

2010-05-10T12:00:00.001-04:00

"I'm visiting my 37 year old daughter. Her birthday is on Mother's Day this year. We're at the zoo and having a great time."

"I'm worried about my girls. I'm having trouble dealing with my own pain from my divorce and I have a hard time not seeing their world through my pain. They are reaching puberty and using the separation (I want to go live with Daddy) to hurt me when they are angry."

"I'm celebrating my 60th wedding anniversary this week."

'I'm a new stepmom...well, not really...we're not married, but I love having the kids around. They call me their "friend-mom." '

"It's been a long time since I've felt any intimacy with my husband. As painful as it is; it isn't changing. I can't seem to change yet I can't let go. I'm afraid."

"I'm missing my mom. She died last year. I will go to the cemetery and bring her flowers."

"I'm beautiful and strong and I have a gorgeous teenage daughter. My ex-husband and I have done a great job of letting her know she is dearly loved and providing nurturing environments for her to grow."

"I'm a single mom in love again. What a wonderful surprise. It's hard because I've got alot of baggage, but I am learning so much about myself. My kids and family love him, too."

"I have trouble with my kids. We don't see each other as often as I'd like...and again, my son cancelled dinner plans; this time on mother's day. I went to dinner with a friend and we celebrated moms."

"I never had children, but have been pregnant in the past. I frequently wonder what kind of a mother I would have been. Menopause is setting in, I will not have children of my own."

"I took my daughter on her first driving practice. The best present for mother's day is that we came back in one piece and she's getting a little comfortable driving."

"My mom had her 70th birthday on Friday of mother's day weekend. She had breast cancer a few years ago and is recovered. We are celebrating all weekend."

"I never knew my mom. I grew up in foster homes and it was really hard. I still have a hard time thinking about her and my childhood."

"My mom and my mother-in-law had the same unusual name. They have both been gone for a while, as has my husband. We had no children, but I always spend this day enjoying dear friendships."

"This is our first mother's day as parents. We are so far from our families and my husband is in grad school. Somehow, I can stay at home with our daughter. She is so beautiful."

"My dad died last year and her baby sister died last week. I am so worried about her. She seems not to want to share how she is feeling and I know it must be so hard. She wanted nothing to do with mother's day celebration, but we were able to plan just the right thing and she had such a wonderful time. She seems to be feeling better. She's 93."

"I am a step mom. The day after mother's day, we get to go see the ultrasound of our first grandchild. We are so excited. So excited."

--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..

These are some of this week's stories of moms I know. As I type this, I am listening to the Diane Reem show on NPR and they are talking about preventing abusive relationships. I am thinking about all of the women and men I know, their loved ones (family, friends, lovers, children) and how our interactions model healthy (or unhealthy) relationships with people. It is so critical to model love, compassion, and kindness for our children; to create home as a place of safety, peace, and joy.

On this Mother's Day and during this year, I wish for us all that we can look at our family and friends with eyes of compassion and joy. I wish that we see the mother in all of us and each take responsibility for our place in this world.

Zenn

2010-05-06T00:23:00.001-04:00

Billy Zenn used to be known as Billy Bragg. Actually, that *is* his name. I've known him for a while here in Columbus. Decades. Bill's wife is Vicky and she's an actress...I've seen her perform in Shakespeare in the park innumerable times.

The last time I saw Billy before tonight was October 13th. I said, "Come to my house for my soup party...celebrating my husband's life...bring a guitar and Vicky and your friends and join us." That was at the open mike night at the Thirsty Ear. One of the city's best and most well known musicians, Billy ran the open mike night. I told him I'd bring the address for him on the 20th. I went to the Thirsty Ear that evening and found Billy had a heart attack and heart surgery that day.

I didn't want to pry...hadn't seen him in a long time...I kept going to the Thirsty Ear and when they re-instituted the open mike night, well, it was less than stellar and no sign of Bill.

Uh-oh.

Holding my breath...

Then, I hear, "He's running open mike at a different place -- right down the street from you." "No shit; that's wonderful."

So I walk to the venue chatting on the phone with a dear friend and when he sees me passing by, he comes out to say "hi." (Maybe that's just my perception). I went in, the music was great; crowd terrific and we sat for two hours talking life, philosophy, and of course, diet.

And I find, two of Columbus' music icons have died recently. I see another who seems to have early stages of Parkinson's disease...a wonderful guitarist and I am brokenhearted at the impacts of sometimes seeing the world from my eyes.

And I realize how fragile life is.

Do what makes you happy. Be love. Don't worry about the rest.

wonderful

2010-04-26T08:07:00.002-04:00

...and it is wonderful to have a life blessed with so many joys.

hard

2010-04-25T19:31:00.001-04:00

It is really hard to feel so brokenhearted...

Reframing

2010-04-23T18:24:00.001-04:00

I've been known to remark that change is how we know we're alive. That having been said, I can't say I really anticipated the change that happened this week. After just over two years, a very deep love relationship has ended. It ended over our separate and collective unhealed pain. It ended over confusion, loose ends and the complications of life as adults. There is no telling what the love will become from here. It is and was dear. It was, at times, lovely. But to put it simply it couldn't continue as it had become.

Single, married, divorced, widowed, single... I've been them all. I've been having what you might call serious relationships since I was 16. Since then, if I count them, there have been 8 in these 28 years. That's an average of 3 1/2 lovely years with some very wonderful men. It is so strange to think of this particular end and us embarking on our individual journeys of healing and becoming well. I think about how often people heal together but in this case, at this point in our individual lives, it could not be.

Still, this fork in the road has left me wondering, how does love fall apart? It falls apart when people find resonance within each others pain. Either deliberately, through habitual patterns, or a lack of harmony in life styles we might find ourselves facing love loss. It often isn't simple, but it is caused when one person steps into the other person's field of pain in a way that brings that pain forward. We simply found ourselves stepping in each other's pain too often. We found ourselves needing our individual space to continue to heal.

This separation is punctuated by my leaving my job to pursue work that is more about nurturing, healing and celebrating joy. This time I have set aside for myself is one for introspection and contemplation about who I am, where I am going and whom I wish to become. It is a time for reflection on a life: past, present and infinite future. The fact that the future is beset with infinite possibilities for joy is one beautiful thing that I have learned in this relationship. I recognize I need to also consider this for myself if I am to be a good lover.

Two years ago, I was told, "I want to love you for a long time." Although, that is clearly true, the love has taken a different form. It deeply saddens me to see that we have found ourselves here in our separate worlds, but I understand. I also know that now isn't the time to predict the future of something that is so independent from me. Although I participate in where this goes, I cannot solely determine who we become. I can only participate in becoming...myself.

How do I go about finding that kind of joy?

I look back on my early loves and in particular my earliest love -- innocent and joyful. Yes, that ended, but the end was more of an immature whim than working within the shadow of an entire adult life. And so I look back on that, and find the key in finding that joy is in honoring my maturity while celebrating shared gifts and dreams.

It seems to me that the answer is in the rejuvenating moments of peace and love. It is looking in amazement through someone else's eyes at the beauty of the world and acting in harmony to celebrate that. It is creating safety and nurturing care. When love becomes the business of the day; when it becomes a competition between lifestyles, ideals, goals, knowledge bases; when we get set on our way of doing things or become afraid or distrustful; we lose the ability to nurture and create that place of safety and healing.

Every step forward into the future opens up infinite possibilities if we are truly awake to them. So, in this space of emptiness and loss, I recognize that it is not loss, but an opportunity to become right with myself. This space of emptiness is an opportunity to celebrate impermanence. This space of emptiness is an opportunity to reframe what I want for myself; who I want to be with a lover. I want to offer a place of nurturing safety, of kindness; of compassion. I want to create a space of beauty that reflects the beauty and joy in our lives and the soft buoying support that moves life forward. I want it to be a dream space, a learning space and a sharing space.

That's a gift I can offer to myself and, through joyful love, offer myself to this world.

untangling

2010-04-21T14:27:00.001-04:00

It's amazing to me how quickly we can become entangled in all of the hopes, dreams and desires of our lives. Then, when something shows itself to be undesirable, we have become so involved in all aspects of its existence, we lose the ability or maybe the objectivity to see our way to change.

I think about this when I think about the everything I went through after my husband died. Undoing all the choices we made together so that I could survive on my own. Changing jobs, moving back from DC. Getting sued in the process and giving up a wonderful opportunity that no longer made sense.

I think about this when I consider what I must do now; no longer with OSFC and stepping slowly out of the field to move toward another that I resonate more strongly with at this point in my life. I think about the two houses I own, the collapse of the housing market. I think about my friends here and my friends there and I consider what choice I would prefer to make.

I think about this when I consider my body; my health. I haven't taken care of myself as I am used to doing. I haven't been a runner since before my back injury in late 2006. I haven't done yoga since Mike died in 2007. I haven't focused on eating and diet and balance in food. I've regularly had too much to drink since living by myself.

I think about all of these things for my life and I know that the solution is found in taking it slowly.

The only way to handle truly freeing yourself is one step at a time. It's like untangling a fine gold chain that has been sitting in a jewelry box getting knotted into a lump as other pieces are moved in and out. Take out your tweezers, your magnifying glass and take a look at it. Start at the knot that is easiest to untie. You will see the chain slowly unravel, lengthen, regain flexibility and find a new life. Even if the chain breaks in a weak spot, it can be soldered back together; better than ever.

And before I know it, I will be stronger than ever.

Can't

2010-04-20T19:54:00.001-04:00

I can't help you if you won't help yourself.

if you destroy what is good
if you push away what you love
if you settle yourself to being in the place
where everybody else owes you a solution to your problems

where you lose your sense of what is real
to feed the world as you think it ought to be.

I can't help you. I tried and it didn't work.

That goes for both of you.

44

2010-04-16T19:42:00.001-04:00

I had a birthday last week.

If you read my blog, or follow me on Twitter, or are a friend who sees me on Facebook, you might be aware that it was a big birthday. I gave myself "freedom" for my birthday -- the intent of the freedom was freedom in work, but it seems to be freedom from many things and I think the freedom may be more multi-dimensional than I could have imagined.

At 44, I am stepping out on my own. I in metamorphosis. I moving with, listening to and feeling the cool spring earth. I'm tentative. Tentative but clear.

I look forward to the next 44 years to be a spirited existence where everyone and everything I have in my environment lifts my heart and brings joy along with them. Anything else is and will be unacceptable. I look forward to getting to know everyone better. I look forward to weaving our continuum of support, friendship, love and joy.

Consider yourself welcome. I hope you welcome me into your heart.

Meet Me in the Forest

2010-04-03T15:53:00.001-04:00

First step in adjusting to this new world: get out into nature. So, yesterday afternoon, I went out to Mohican State Park to spend a few hours in nature.

I felt this tired and embarrassingly little-used body begin to spring back to life...a new shape taking form in the old. I felt the earth beneath my feet and the urge to walk to the end of what civilization and bask in everything it means to feel human.

My greying hair blowing in the breeze, longer than it has been in years; the smell of pines around me. I laid down in a secluded part of the woods and began to feel renewed.

You remember that feeling when you were a teenager, finally escaping from the confines of your world, stepping out into the woods...brave, unsupervised; naive and sweet. I felt alot like that, but still carried the wisdom and experiences of these nearly 44 years. Lying in the grass, considering every opportunity, every adventure, every experience I want for my life.

I felt peace, stillness and the infinite possibilities that the future brings.

Alright Now

2010-03-30T19:22:00.004-04:00

Today is the day I began my true exit from the last 11 years of work, the day I let it all go without a fight.

So, here I am sitting in my exit interview when our Executive Director (an adult), says, "I don't understand why you cc'd me on the resume. It should have been written to me. I've been here six months, which isn't very long and I don't know you, really...but you should have addressed it to me. I'm the Director. So, when I saw it, I just dismissed you and it."

He kept repeating the same thing over and over. He heard nothing; offered less.

So today, I breathe a bit easier than I thought I might have with this decision.

It feels good. Really good moving on to the completely unknown adventure of what is next.

Really good. It's all right now.

On Men

2010-03-29T19:03:00.009-04:00

I grew up more or less as an independent soul, a tomboy; a lover of men. Yes, I adore my women friends, too, but I want to talk about about men. At nearly 44 years old, I notice some things -- consistencies perhaps -- about men I love, men who are friends, men with whom I work.

They want to know what your drinking, and they want to have some too. Doesn't matter if it's morning coffee at the office or a long awaited drink in the evening -- they really want some of what you are having along with what they like.

They love to share meals. Some cook; some don't. All eat. All eat almost anything with joy and gusto from a well charred hot dog to an exquisite dinner in their favorite restaurant.

I remember OSFC's charity bake sale in the lobby of our downtown building...almost with out fail, every man who walked by (thin, fat, athletic, buying, just looking...) stopped, viewed the selection, extended and rubbed their belly commenting on whether or not they would buy a treat. It was remarkable.

They sparkle when you ask them how they are doing; how their kids are; what's new with their love life; about their favorite hobby. I think we get so hung up in the mechanics of life, we forget to ask and they revel in it when you do.

They love to be touched. They bear hug each other; slap asses on the ball field; kiss on the cheeks; love being gently caressed, like to keep close touch.

Women rarely express such gratitude for these pleasures in life. Too busy nurturing, caring, worrying...organizing....judging; themselves and others. They learn to set aside these basic human responses. It is easy to set aside your more sensuous side with the typical concerns of the day. Rarely do I find a man who doesn't respond to the simple hedonistic pleasures in life. The difference must be something in the DNA; something to do with survival.

Something in me says: in the offering, in the giving, in the joy of being received, is the life.

I will strive to keep my eyes open: to see my friends as they are...offer drink, wine, caring, comfort to friends; without filtering the seemingly mundane.

Huh?

2010-03-28T22:50:00.000-04:00

This afternoon I caught myself once again wondering, "What the hell is going on here? What am I doing?"

It's not that I don't have a purpose or don't understand the world around me, but sometimes it's simultaneously so overwhelmingly complicated and so obviously simple that it's hard to wrap words around what it's all about.

That's when the ability to focus on now becomes so important for me.

I have no idea what's next; where I want to be...even what relationships I want to have with family, friends, love...

What I can say is that it is all changing -- morphing into what it always has been. I guess that is the paradox of life....and I am infinitely grateful to be immersed in it.

Spring

2010-03-27T16:48:00.004-04:00

Staring at the barrels of two guns at point blank range can do nothing but change you. But for me, it jolted me out of complacency; set aside my fear. I can look at you down the barrel of your gun and give you everything I have on my back. I am left standing there with my heart, my spirit, my courage.

Let's do the numbers:

2 boys with guns

6 people in the neighborhood offering help

a dozen friends spending time with me in the next week

100s of people offering acts of encouragement and kindness

...who knows how many people hearing the story, keeping their eyes and ears open; becoming more watchful of each other

When the doors of courage are opened, everything changes. When we look at the world with an open heart, we become more a part of it; more moved by it; more responsible for it.

As I look to leave the security of a state job and embark on my next journey, I know that I can be in the world courageously. To walk with courage is not to lose fear, but to keep fear in its place -- it's to embrace the world as it is and for all it is.

It is to find ourselves within ourselves and begin to quietly walk alongside our true spirit and to offer the world our gifts. It is to see the gifts of this life.

So, as the noise of the acute fear, raised blood pressure, increased adrenaline subside I am left with a deep and abiding calm. A deep and abiding need to live this life as it is. After all; it is spring. And this year, my 44th, this is my personal spring...my vernal equinox.

life

2010-03-08T22:07:00.001-05:00

2 9-mm barrels pointed at my head today...reminding me of who we all are. Course, brutal, ignorant.

cold

2010-03-05T23:01:00.000-05:00

"Talented" is a wonderful thing; but not related to love, warmth, kindness.

It's cold. Like a piece of ice.

I guess I deserve that.

Feeling life crashing down around me like I've lost all that I never had.

All that I never had.

Blown away like not so much a grain of sand, a piece of fuzz or an afterthought.

without love, compassion or kindness.

Empty, but not in the zen way that honors impermanence...but in the hollow way of a life less lived.

I'm reminded deeply of the scars of the life I never lived; I cannot live.

It may be true that I am not enough for you; but these days make me wonder if I'm enough for me;

if I'm worth

the thin wisp

an incense stick

it burns into

a pile of brown rice.

And is that a life worth living?

I don't have an answer for that. I'm alive.

I think.

rattles

2010-03-05T20:32:00.000-05:00

I think there's a different kind of "death rattles" than the ones you hear about...it's the rattling around by yourself...in the cold fringes of the winter. No energy to go out; nothing but silence staying home.

It's the way death rattles in this world and knocks her unearthly breaths at your doors and windows waiting for you to succumb. It's the way the silence sears in to your heart and makes you question anything and perhaps everything you do.

It's the emptiness of no children, no life...even though life may scurry around your feet...like rats scratching, stretching, scraping to find the least bit of nourishment...brilliant creatures, misunderstood...murdered by those who don't understand.

Nothing; no nothing is as lonely as being a widow. Except for, of course, being a human being who pushes love out of their own life.

Maybe I'm both.

I See You

2009-12-17T20:06:00.001-05:00

I see you looking at me, in all of the detail that would send someone infinitely paranoid into oblivion.

I see you looking at me, trying to understand what is happening to you -- I see you looking for your answers by looking at me.

Those answers aren't here. They are inside you. Sit quietly; maybe you will understand. Listen to the world that you love, not the pain that has been driving you.

This is a soft landing spot, where friends are welcomed with warmth, safety, food and drink. We, us 5 here, would offer kindness to anyone who entered our midst. We've helped you, and when you are ready, you will know.

We sit by the fire. We enjoy each other...cats, dogs and a roaring fire on this chilly winter day.

We don't know you, but we see you.

We welcome life...as it is.

Haiku: 11.9.09

2009-11-09T22:36:00.005-05:00

communication vanished

a vain attempt to heal old

scarred wounds hope lost

Going Toward (as in not running from)

2009-10-27T21:04:00.004-04:00

Yeah, I'm told the thing to do is to make change when you are "going toward" something, not because you just want to get away from something.

...even when it's "Going Toward Quiet."

This beautiful mind needs a quiet mind. This beautiful mind is not quite yet healed enough to deal with the bizarre rigors of working with the co-dependent, needy or non-transparent; particularly when I've got a big job to do. Or, maybe it's just that this beautiful mind can't work among those who are frozen in time; neither running away nor going toward.

As much as I am certain that this is the best approach, this "going toward," I'm not sure that it is, in fact, that it is substantially different than "running from." It's a matter of perspective; a change-up of coordinate system. At the same time, I recognize that if I go toward quiet, I may not actually be running from noise.

The difference is the endpoint: Going Toward has responsibility for the goal...Running From is without direction, without responsibility, without an end-goal in mind.

So, maybe if I leave my job because I am going toward quiet and peace, I am held responsible for obtaining the quiet and peace. If I leave because I am going toward a leadership position, it is my responsibility to get it. If I leave because I am going toward my new business, then this new enterprise focused on community development thrives.

It isn't running from. That's what Michael did. It cost him his life.

That's not me: I AM of this life.

And I think I just wrote sections of my resignation letter...if I were to offer it today. If I could define what I would be going toward.

Passing...2 years have passed

2009-10-26T17:58:00.002-04:00

Two years and a handful of days have passed and I am in the middle of a two-week sabbatical from work. For the first time in many years, this time actually feels my own. The result of that is that the detail I see in my world is different than it has been; like a new experience with new details and new connections. I am reconnecting with old friends; connecting with new friends...and enjoying life as it is.

Michael, it has been two years since we lost your presence, but we still carry your spirit in our hearts. Although we miss you, we experiencing your gifts and your love continuing to care for us, connect us, and teach us.

I Wish

2009-09-15T21:23:00.002-04:00

I wish I had the naivete to believe that wind turbines, solar panels or fuel cells could solve the problems of the world.

I wish I had the spirit to accept love without accessing risk.

I wish I was me...in a different place, different time, different life.

Perhaps I would look at this whole thing differently.

sharp

2009-09-09T00:41:00.001-04:00

After a period of rest, food and love, I have found my tools...I found my rasp.

I sharpen my scythe...

For a new harvest; for a new life.

About the Children

2009-07-25T12:57:00.004-04:00

One of my favorite topics of conversation is religion and philosophy. Understanding people with a different point of view than I have is very important for my continual growth and development of compassion. Often these topics come up in the most innocent places and take the most unexpected twists and turns.

A few days ago I had the pleasure of talking with someone who worked as a missionary with the Church of Latter Day Saints (you might also know this as the Mormon Church). We discussed proselytizing and evangelism; we discussed the many approaches of the religious sects that do so. We talked about the variety of interpretations of Christianity, of the word and of the variety of bibles that were testament of Christ. We talked about religion and ritual. I learned that Mormon belief is that those people who live a kind and compassionate life are welcomed to heaven; that they have a fairly progressive view of heaven and hell.

I shared some of my many conversations with neighborhood Jehovah's Witnesses that visited my home and the interesting conversations I've had with them (certainly not fruitful for them in gaining a new member, but always interesting). I related a story about the two women that visited me when I lived in Cleveland Heights and asked, "Do you ever wonder whether you will see your loved ones who have died again?" My response, a succinct, "No." I thought that was an interesting approach to a front-door evangelical discussion; one I had never heard. They were honestly surprised, perhaps stunned and this lead to a conversation about my world view.

The conversation with my missionary friend continued.

I shared with him a story about my dear friends, a couple who are "Bible-based" Christians; she Calvanist and he a little less conservative and the fact they do believe that only those who accept Christ as an adult would go to heaven. I described my disbelief, when she told me that, yes indeed, she believed I was going to hell and was pretty nonplussed about it. Given my understanding of hell, I would think it would really bother her. I shared about how tragic it was to think that when she lost a pregnancy at the 16th week, she birthed the girl baby, she and her husband named and buried her. And this baby, according to their faith would spend eternity in hell. So very tragic.

This is when my missionary friend said, "That is what those women who came to your house wanted to talk about. Their goal was to give people who believed that children, the mentally challenged, those of other religions...they don't necessarily go to hell. That people will meet again in heaven...that you don't have to live with the risk of such a tragedy."

I found that profoundly moving.

Home

2009-07-24T08:56:00.002-04:00

Home is a place where I enjoy the solace of great quietude. The busy-ness of the day; the noise of confusion; the chaos of too many tasks to do within too little time melts into a love of food, of life of simplicity.

My home is a place of balance.

For this, I am grateful.

My World -- Souvenirs

2009-07-15T19:53:00.003-04:00

"This was in the dryer. What is it?"

"Oh, that's a piece of rebar. It must have been in my pocket."

"From that site you visited last week?" "Yep." "Did you take it from the wall? That explains alot."

"Give that to me...And of course not."

First Week of July

2009-07-08T09:49:00.002-04:00

Got my macbook, switched phone companies, hired a house painter, put my Cleveland house on the market, contacted my lawyer, had my car serviced, had my car vandalized, finished my front landscaping, read the paper, paid bills, received rent checks, paid two mortgages, started a new blog, worked on client development, toured a new school with very poorly done masonry, drove to Switzerland (of Ohio)...

I just need to wash the dogs.

Furlough

2009-07-06T13:54:00.002-04:00

Here I am in the middle of a Monday afternoon with a dog at my feet and a cat at my side fixing a fresh pot of coffee -- contemplating having no schedule for the day, wondering what the new State budget will hold.

Contemplating.

Thinking about the politics of the job; of the day; of the economy and where I might best serve my community.

It's foggy, for sure.

Yeah, yeah, yeah...

2009-06-30T08:54:00.002-04:00

Yeah, what's going on?

I don't know. I keep looking at it; I "get" it; I don't understand it.

I don't actually want anything from anyone except to be able to do a really good job providing resources for success, but I don't have the resources (time, primarily) to get the job done. A mediocre job is hardly an option.

"We understand the importance of your job to this agency; we just can't put any more resources to it."

Yeah, well...I'm only one person. I'm one person who is steal healing from significant life trauma...who is still blown away by surprise...

One last ditch effort? Maybe.

A call for help...a cry for assistance. A battle cry. Who's in? Who wants to make this go?

Here Comes the Flood

2009-03-20T22:42:00.006-04:00

Nearly thirty years ago, this song struck at the hearts of the "dreamers" who tried to annihilate enemies through war; today I see it as a reflection on the "dreamers" who feel the need to acquire more at the expense of men, women and children; it is an anthem for those who view responsibility through their connectedness with others, with life, with the earth, and with whatever may be their god.

Drink up dreamers, you're running dry.

Good...

2009-03-15T22:06:00.002-04:00

Good Food

Good Work

Good Friends

Good Love

Good Learning

Good Drink

Good Life

Discernment...Pull Line and Cut Bait

2009-03-14T16:46:00.003-04:00

“Before enlightenment carry water and chop wood. After enlightenment, carry water and chop wood.” Wu Li

Back in the summer of 2006, it was gracefully suggested to me that my purpose between then and the spring of 2009 was developing discernment...this was the last piece of the puzzle that I would need to do my work. Yeah, there were a number of other things first, but in the end, I needed to be very mindful that discernment, for me, was the thing.

So, today, I ask myself...am I practicing discernment in my decisions? In my life choices? What is the foundation of this discernment?

In some ways I see the success; in others, I know that opportunities for practice abound.

Before discernment: observe -- know your heart -- decide; after discernment: observe -- know your heart -- decide.

Spring Yard

2009-03-09T08:54:00.003-04:00

2009...my second post...still adjusting to this new life

I spent the weekend clearing the yard of winter's decay. It's my first early spring in this new house. I was surprised and pleased to find moist cool soil that was easily weeded, my two goldfish alive and swimming in my small pond, witch hazel blooming, daffodils peaking out of the ground...I am looking forward to the daily changes of this garden so filled with color and life.

I remember the house in Cleveland. My garden was planted in July 2006. Every morning with cups of coffee and every evening with a glasses of wine, we would survey the changes in the garden and always noticed something. For me, the excitement was in seeing how in just a few short hours there could be substantial change in the plants (I think of the mid-spring asparagus, sometimes growing 6 inches by the end of the day). For Michael, it was being with me, watching me being excited by the garden.

It seemed like such a big thing, this little tradition. I continue the coffee tour and the wine tour in this new space; in this new life.

I carry with me the past that brought me here. Some parts joyful; other parts melancholy. Yet I note: each morning I rise from bed and look deeply at myself and am amazed with life's changes and my energy to tackle the day; each evening I relax, heal and nurture myself for another day...every day growing a little bit; every day changing.

First Post -- Questions for the New Year

2009-02-01T10:58:00.004-05:00

It's February 1st, and this is my first post of the 2009.

I was thinking about that this morning...I've been blogging since 2006, writing regularly, but sometimes I let it sit. It is that I have little to write; few insights to share. It is that I have urge to pen; no thoughts spinning around looking for a place to land.

So, today, as the the city thaws, the ice melts, and the snow slides off of my slate roof and crashes decidedly to the ground, I feel this fog of tentativeness lifting.

When I haven't anything to write, it is that I have no clarity, I have no attachment to what is now, I have too much work and not enough decompression. I have just enough energy to complete the tasks and hand and move on to the next.

And, I question that. I question the value in that. I look deep inside myself for my own remedy as this world is not going to wrap it up and leave it as a sparkling package on my front door. At least not obviously. As I move into this new year, I approach it with questions: Who am I? What do I value? How do I ensure I move in harmony and joy with this world?

The answers are only a few moments of quiet away.

The Guns and the Jade Buddha

2008-12-31T16:02:00.008-05:00

(Repost from my first blog in honor of greeting the new year with our eyes open)

I remember the room with the toy closet. It was my father's bedroom in my grandfather's house. The desk, the electric keyboard…there were a few of my father's things he kept in his childhood room at his father's house.

There was a dresser with a number of jade sculptures including a sitting Buddha...he was smiling. This Buddha was rather large. In my memory he sat at least 18 inches tall. I liked the way the jade felt...so soft and tough at the same time. It was a curiosity to me -- what was this Buddha all about? How does Buddha fit into life? I was an avid reader and I read as much as I could find about it and surely my learning about other cultures, religions and spiritual practices began there.

I also remember the gun racks. There were two, each holding at least a dozen antique shotguns and rifles. It was hard to even look at those racks as a young child. The intention of their presence filled the whole house, not only that bedroom. The guns created the bass notes for everything I felt while being in the house: they resonated with the rhythms of cold violence. At the heart of this beating pulse was a darkness upon which the potentials of beauty, learning, and even spirituality could not be laid.

Instead there was this dichotomy; this incongruity. All still incomprehensible today.

My father was a man I never knew; one no one ever really knew...and there is no possible way to know now.

Who might he have become had he been raised by different people? As today I stand on the razor's edge, Krittika, with certainty I see -- he would have been more like me. He would have understood the darkness as a vehicle for transformation and for reaching higher good instead of using it in the ways that he chose. He would have been fully human; but he was not. He might have been knowable; but he was not. Still, I remain grateful to him for all that I am. Only because of who I am must I stand on that razor's edge. Only because I am there do I know both darkness and light.

I watch shadows play in the brilliance of the day; I squint at the brightness that creeps into the darkest of corners of the night. I remain in balance...I remain aware. I remain knowable.

I remain present.

The guns and the jade Buddha: they are in the same room.

Be ever mindful. Walk with joy.
___________

Vajrapani (artwork by Dhyana Zagri) -- Vajrapani, Guardian of the Dharma, is the Destroyer of obstacles. He is one of 3 celestial bodhisattvas or archangelic protectors. A bodhisattva is one who has chosen to reincarnate in order to show the path to Nirvana or enlightenment. Vajrapani is the holder of the Diamond Thunderbolt or Vajra (symbolizing the power of compassion) an emblem of the concentrated power of the Buddha and the Vajrayana way. He is said to be the last Buddha to appear in this world cycle, wears long snake necklace and tiger skin loin cloth, symbolizing the conquest of anger. In his hand he holds the Vajra or Dorje in Tibetan, which is the quintessential symbol of the ‘diamond vehicle’ or the Tantric Vajrayana Buddhist path.

FallOut

2008-12-23T22:05:00.004-05:00

NEW YORK (AP) — The founder of an investment fund that lost $1.4 billion with Bernard Madoff was discovered dead Tuesday after committing suicide at his Manhattan office, marking a grim turn in a scandal that has left investors around the world in financial ruin.

Rene-Thierry Magon de la Villehuchet, 65, was found sitting at his desk at about 8 a.m. with both wrists slashed, NYPD spokesman Paul Browne said. A box cutter was found on the floor along with a bottle of sleeping pills on his desk. No suicide note was found.

Sad indeed...

Could this be any one of us? I am mindful that it can be.

Trust and Teenage "Don't Tell Mom"

2008-12-10T21:34:00.003-05:00

"Trust what can be trusted
Offer what can be offered
Ask for what can be given
Make clear how we want to be predictable & unpredictable." twitter.com/consciousjack

I was reading Tuesday's NYTimes when I can across the article, "What to do if Patient Says, 'Don't Tell Mom,' " and thinking about my friend Samantha and issues with her 10 year old Noah when I recognized myself in the article.

At nearly 17, I nearly lost my life. The situation that precipitated the illness was one of a lack of trust. Mom didn't trust me; I didn't trust Mom. Interestingly, I was not offered an obvious place to put my trust and the doctor that saved my life was her doc and I did not feel comfortable to trust; so much so that I lost my interest in medicine as a vocation.

As I was healing, my interaction with him was tenuous at best. I was completely honest and trustworthy with information I was willing to share. I was untrusting with the unpredictability of the relationship between the doc and my mother and I did share what I could comfortably with him. He didn't trust me because he knew I was withholding information from him.

As I look back, it was the lack of clarity of the relationship we had with each other of predictable and unpredictable behavior that guided our interaction -- from my experience, it was not possible how to know when people were being predictable or unpredictable. When I trusted, I had been let down...very much so. It was impossible to know what information could be trusted or not.

Later, when I was given an opportunity to trust, I could not see it. I didn't have a clear understanding of how to trust:

"Trust what can be trusted
Offer what can be offered
Ask for what can be given
Make clear how we want to be predictable & unpredictable."

Unexpected Blessings

2008-11-27T13:02:00.004-05:00

While talking with my Mother last night, we spent time discussing the last 5 years -- from Columbus, to Cleveland and back to Columbus.

Moving from Columbus to Cleveland with Michael being so very sick was hard. At the same time he found himself -- actually, we found ourselves -- among a group of friends who accepted him and excepted and loved him unconditionally despite his illness. He could be who he was to be nurtured and heal to the best of his ability in the company of true friends. We didn't have that in Columbus.

Moving back to Columbus was hard. I had to leave our house, my friends, my comfort zone to come back to a place that had become unknown. What I found here was new work, wonderful friends, and unconditional love. I have entered a world where people love me despite where I've been and for the difficulties I've faced. Had I stayed in Cleveland, I wouldn't have had this opportunity to heal without all of the baggage I collected while there.

It's an amazing life that buoys us all in support -- even in the darkest moments and most difficult choices in our lives.

With great gratitude for it all on this Thanksgiving...Wishing everyone a beautiful holiday season and a year where we all have the gift of offering thanks every day.

clevelandsnewstory.com

2008-11-25T19:35:00.006-05:00

It seems to me that the new story is the same old story with the same old cheerleaders.

As an outsider who was a pseudoinsider and is now clearly an outsider looking in, I see the irony of the well-heeled flower children and the microbloggers superimposed against the impoverished and jobless.

I see alot of talking, drinking, brainstorming; I see no action.

I see the desire to be a role model, but I see no acceptance of collaboration or ideas from the outside.

Growth and strength come from walking that razor's edge; from listening to self and listening to other and creating a co-mingled reality.

Let's see if that can happen at www.clevelandsnewstory.com. Let's hope Cleveland rises to its real challenges. Many have a lingering love that would shine a light on the rebirth of that city.

NoNoNo

2008-11-24T21:33:00.005-05:00

Today was a strange one...funny, as my friend Mary would say, "in a cartoon world.

Everyone saying, "No." "We can't." "We won't." "Ugh, no -- you surely won't."

In a world where a simple word can sometimes inspire greatness and other times dash all hopes, why lead with negatives -- why not lead with strength?

Why let "no" be the word of the day?

Why let "no" be the word of the day when we are talking about a new school...about our children? Let's work together to turn "no" into "I think we can find a way." "I believe in our talent." "I will invest in my community." "I will engage now so that I might create the brightest future."

...for us all.

My Pain is Not Yours

2008-11-20T21:45:00.003-05:00

...nor is your pain mine.

I cannot know your sorrows; neither can I take them on.

I know that I must live life that is support of my joy, and in doing so I may be there for you even in your pain. For I can feel sadness for your pain, but I cannot take the journey that releases that pain for you. It is yours to walk.

Let me live in my joy; welcome me to join in celebration of yours.

That is there where our lives intertwine.

Passages

2008-11-06T22:49:00.006-05:00

The first week of November

November 2008
In love, I am mesmerized by the world and embracing change

November 2007
Newly widowed, I felt the warm comfort of community

November 2004
With concern for my safety and life, I rose to the challenges of loving

November 2001
I sat in the bonds of new friendship; we, providing comfort to my uncle as he was dieing

..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--

These years have taught me much that I wish to most gently share with those who embrace the lessons.

Living

2008-11-03T22:03:00.001-05:00

"For hope, contrary to popular belief is tantamount to resignation. And to live is to not be resigned." ~ Albert Camus

The End of Procrastination

2008-10-28T11:30:00.002-04:00

There comes a point in time when most people move through the level of maturity knowing meeting obligations brings pleasure. There comes that point in time where maturity allows for prioritization over procrastination; where the dull fear of outcome is overcome by the simple need to release the burden of the act of completing the task.

There comes a time when you just do it and you do it well.

My time is now. It has taken only 42 years and a great deal of learning to get to the point where I have faith in myself to just do it, to take care of business, to meet my obligations (specifically to myself).

I have a tinge of envy when I meet young people who seem always to meet deadlines and who take on responsibilities seemingly beyond their years. Interesting that our different stories we had about ourselves as children must have impacted our ability to be on point, on deadline and on time. The legacy of my childhood allowed me to always show in emergency, I have learned to show up reliably for other people.

Today my story creates the structure to show up for myself.

Nahala -- One Year

2008-10-22T09:37:00.006-04:00

One year has passed; all four seasons.

One year ago October 22nd was a balmy 80 degree day in Cleveland. Funny how Michael lost the ability to feel the temperature sometime during that summer and ran around in that same sweater (or OSU sweatshirt) regardless of how warm it was outside.

Michael lived only to make sure I was okay. He lived to make me breakfast, to keep me company, to make sure I was able to move through the pain of losing my job; to find another; to regain a sense of purpose. He said so. He was good company. At times it was joyful; at times excruciating. His life was about doing things that he felt would make me happy. He loved me dearly.

Eventually, I found a wonderful job in Washington DC with the American Chemical Society. I was to start work in early November. We were both excited for the opportunity, for the adventure, for life in a new place. He was truly excited for me. He seemed excited too, except that he'd grown increasingly uncommunicative as October progressed. He had grown tired and was experiencing some pretty severe memory loss and functionality. I was concerned for him. We talked about not taking the job. He insisted that he, in fact we, would be fine and we'd have a great time in DC.

One year ago October 22nd I was leaving the U-Street Corridor where I was visiting my apartment that I had rented -- sight unseen -- for the first year. It was an even hotter day in DC. The miles seemed to stretch longer as the drive back to Ohio proceeded with no communication from Michael. It could have been normal -- there was a dog walking, a vet appointment for Orange, teaching two classes, maybe lunch with Tom from Fairhill Center. But around 4 p.m., with no word since the going to bed the night before, remembering the eerie sound in his voice (a sound that I had never heard before) the heaviness of dread settled in. Like the time of his first suicide attempt in May 2004, I steadied myself for what might be next.

I knew what those minutes of calling 911 would be like. I knew when I found him, it would be his last emergency trip to the doctor...yes, this time would be his last. In the past four years, there had been ten emergency room visits with him psychotic and/or suicidal. This time would be his last. This time it would be a trip to the doctors at the county coroner's office. I didn't know how I would find him, where he would be, what I would do...after. But I did know how it would feel to make the call. It was too late to do anything but let him go. This was the time everything would change.

I know that in this life, there are two things: love and loss. That had become abundantly clear to me over the last few years; in the time of loving and caring for Michael. I believe that we have the great opportunity to love and the responsibility to understand the impermanence of life. Nothing we love will be the way it is forever. Everything; everyone breaks down, moves, changes, and the living do eventually die. Even lifelong friendships, loves and family ties end in death.

What I learned about life is that there are some events that are the catalyst to making everything change. What I learned about friends is that they have an astounding ability to rally around you. What I learned about myself is that it is essential that I celebrate life; that I invest fully in life and the living because life is often much too short. What I learned about my place in this world is to keep my eyes and my heart open for its infinite possibilities and beauty.

Tonight, Michael's Yartzeit (or nahala in Ladino for the Sephardic Jews like my family) I meet with Cleveland friends over dinner to celebrate the struggle of life and the continuation of love. Saturday, October 25th is Michael's birthday. That evening I will celebrate my new home with my Columbus friends. We will celebrate each other, enjoy good food, raise a toast to our joy; to Michael's joy.

I feel as though my new life is the legacy to that joy.

How am I different? Everything has changed.

What I know is simply what is now.

Bicycling in Boston

2008-10-21T18:06:00.005-04:00

Last weekend we went to Boston for a short vacation. On Sunday, we rented bikes and tooled around the city. It was amazing how much we saw in three hours.

What was more amazing was trying to follow this maniac who refused to follow the rules of the road and waved at every human being we passed.

Even more amazing was that he never once lost his hat.

(Picture from iPhone Sketches, drawn by J/Z, "My image of what following me looked like to you.")

Yeah. He surely captured the feeling of the day. It was great fun.

Emptiness & Impermanence

2008-10-13T10:28:00.009-04:00

Fullness.

It is the natural companion of emptiness.

It is the joy of impermanence.

Yesterday, we experienced Tibetan Monks performing the Medicine Buddha Healing Ceremony and the dismantling of the sand mandala (compassion) they created in 36 hours at Vets Memorial Convention Center.

Fullness as we live in what is now.

Emptiness as we recognize the beauty that creates our world.

Impermanence as we embrace the coolness of autumn.

Positioning Our Strengths

2008-10-11T14:44:00.002-04:00

Strength: Merriam-Webster, noun 4b: "a strong attribute or inherent asset."

The new jargon in leadership development dances with the idea the fine leaders nurture strength; it recognizes attributes (not deficiencies) and supports the qualities inherent in developing assets.

Leaders embrace difference; they embrace diversity; they embrace change. Leaders don't tear down to build new -- they asses existing assets, imagine possibilities, engage what is different just as brick is different than mortar.

As we go into this election for our next U.S. President, I hope to see the change where our leaders are inspiring the entire country rather than tearing at the fabric of the other side.

On Self-Knowledge

2008-10-08T19:28:00.005-04:00

Say not "I have found the truth," but rather, "I have found a truth."
Say not, "I have found the path of the soul." Say rather, "I have met the soul walking upon my path."
For the soul walks upon all paths.
The soul walks not upon a line, neither does it grow like a reed.
The soul unfolds itself, like a lotus of countless petals.

~Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

NOW

2008-10-02T22:22:00.002-04:00

“If I am not for myself, who will be for me? If I am not for others, what am I? And if not now, when?” Rabbi Hillel

Circle the Wagons

2008-10-02T19:55:00.006-04:00

I am not so much one for being politic, but I have tremendous difficulty adapting when a colleague (purporting to have the same goal) continuously acts in opposition to our organizational goals; when that colleague undermines not only our actions, but the people with whom he works -- superiors and underlings alike.

But when that colleague is the second in the pair of us who are the "experts" in our combined work, it makes it even more difficult for me. It causes me to focus efforts on damage control and takes time away getting work accomplished...it has the potential to stand in the way of my ability to effectively support our team.

It undermines our agency's reputation in the field, with our colleagues, with our clients.

Sometimes it is important to stand up for the greater good at every expense. Sometimes this independence is in dissonance with what is truly in the highest good. Sometimes it is good to develop consensus and circle the wagons.

************
"He only has power if the entire group is fragmented or divided by him."~J/Z

Carnal Cannibals

2008-09-25T17:15:00.004-04:00

Wow. (photo taken around 8:00 this a.m. in my garden)

Reminder: Stillness Needed

2008-09-24T11:34:00.004-04:00

Voices from the garden say: Be still. Observe with intensity. Wait with patience. Decide with discernment. Move with swiftness.

In work.
In play.
In rest.

I am reminded to be with my own power, recognizing life...as it is.

Healing Paradox

2008-09-23T20:24:00.006-04:00

Now, a budding Reiki adept, I set my focus on healing.

I find that for me as the healing energy moves along the hara line, each chakra is agitated by the healing energy, producing (perhaps releasing) what probably is my worst possible behaviour for that place.
...
February 2007

2nd chakra, splenic (sacral) chakra: governs instinct and gut feelings. Seat of vitality and many emotions.

2nd attunement, emotional body: stress, hysteria, frustration, anxiety, depression, confusion, frees emotional responses for sexual health, opens channels for greater creativity.

At that time, I put a chair through my office wall. It was for no reason, it was spontaneous and fortunately, it was just a leg through the drywall and the hole was no bigger than 3" in diameter, but I was emotional. I was angry. I was ashamed.
...
Yesterday, I had a moment...a couple of hours...that seemed to be releasing through my Reiki master attunement.

Spiritual body: 3rd chakra, solar plexus: Promotes the ability to accept without the need for control. Personal power and ego issues. Connection to akashic records.

Relaxation, stress, clarity, centering, freedon of choice, release of frustration, release fears, release need to control or manipulate, promote self-confidence, stepping into your own power.

I behaved badly. I exercised my power to, potentially, the detriment of the beauty in my life. Fortunately, my love was so kind, warm, welcoming..."I don't want you to be alone in this," he said, regarding the most painful experience of my life (and honestly, a moment of skidding on emotional black ice).
...
But, now I feel more like myself. More free, more honest, more grounded.

Perhaps that is all that it is: My power is in I AM. Healing allows the connections in my life to resonate with I AM. It allows me to humbly resonate with I AM.

I think I am becoming. I believe I am healing.

I don't know what's next...that IS okay.

Short Happy Life...

2008-09-16T16:35:00.004-04:00

Something about the Republican Presidential Ticket got me thinking of the Hemingway short story "The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber." Acclaimed for its ambiguous brutality, this story of innate violence affected me so strongly that I could no longer read Hemingway.

It simply captured the ugliest tendencies in human nature; it was beautifully written and affirmed to me that WE as a species may not be fit to survive here; it made me question modern life and all of its extravagant outrages. This story captured our tendency toward appropriating everything in our sites as though it was ours to own.

It captured the sense of entitlement that we often display that may, in the end, be our very demise.

Mrs. Palin, I implore you: Put down your gun.

We Have Responsibility

2008-09-09T20:57:00.008-04:00

we are to care for one another

we are to have empathy

there is nothing else

What Language?

2008-09-07T16:41:00.002-04:00

Life is about living; about freedom; about community; about honesty.

When I look at the possibilities facing us this fall, I ask myself: What language...which country?

Brazil

Argentina

Spain

France

What language would open doors of living in the land? What language would support a life that is filled with small beautiful acts of self-sustaining community? What language brings family with life, with mountains and the sea.

I no longer wish for vast platitudes, but, instead for close warmth.

Pachysandra/Stachybotrys/Pachysandra

2008-09-04T20:01:00.006-04:00

grows in shade and relatively tough/

grows in dark wet spaces and may be dangerous/

becomes invasive and leads to confusion; to rumor and rumination/

...like this

(I got to thinking about how similar those words are while watering a few days ago. One a groundcover, one the infamous "black mold." Yeah, I probably spent too much time in 95 degree heat after a zero water summer watering shrubs).

I didn't think when I moved to Columbus I'd moved to the desert.

Kitty Bop

2008-08-26T07:17:00.006-04:00

In these cool late summer days, I wake up early. Greeted by a foursome of playful creatures, I am reminded each morning that my presence matters; that my being present is all that matters.

No need to consider anything else, they bring me quickly to what is now.

Sunday Musings

2008-08-24T13:50:00.006-04:00

Today is strange and typical at the same time. It's mostly like the past week, except that my sense of humor about it is miraculously restored. There were times when at my job, the lyric from the Talking Heads' Slippery People ran through my consciousness..."God help us, help us lose our minds..."

Friday night I began fielding calls/emails from Michael's family wanting...of course...money. I haven't ever heard a peep from them since he died except, twice now, to insist on me giving them money. The sense of entitlement is...well...vulgar. More slippery people.

But on the fun side, I'm planting and fertilizing my garden. I also developed a new recipe for a fun cool summer rice.

So, here you go, the description of the summer rice.

Jasmine rice, cooked with a pinch of saffron. Minced shallot and garlic; summer fruit (I used strawberries and mango), cilantro, a bit of raddichio, chopped cashews. A light sauce of tahini, mirin, rice wine vinegar, a splash of sesame oil, lemon juice, lemon zest. If you like it a bit richer, add a some yogurt or mayo. Grey salt (or sea salt); black pepper.

For lunch, I added seared shrimp with garlic and jalepeno but you could also sear tofu the same way for a hearty meal.

In Memoriam

2008-08-23T17:54:00.005-04:00

19 years ago today, Kathy Lynn Alley was shot by an intruder in her home. Mortally wounded, Ms. Alley was able to clearly and unambiguously identify her shooter before dieing on the operating table an hour later.

I feel like I know her. I feel like I know the soul that inhabited her body.

10 months ago yesterday, my husband, her fiancee, died as a result a lengthy battle with PTSD and depression. He, who suffered decades of emotional and physical abuse from his parents and then this violent triggering event, never had a chance to experience life as many of the rest of us do.

I often feel like I never knew him...the soul that walked in that body through that life.

Today, I would want my paradoxical knowing and unknowing to somehow find their combined voice. As I light this yartzeit candle for a woman I never met, I reflect on how she has impacted my life...decades later.

My wish for myself:

That I know the strength of my soul; in the knowing and in the not knowing. That I tell the story of how we are all connected; how we are all responsible for one another...in this life.

I know my soul. Today it begins its walk for the lives that could not be.

The Berber has Eyes

2008-08-21T09:22:00.004-04:00

Eight of them...All looking at me right now.

Some days I feel completely spent. Today is one of them. Noting yesterday's run -- no, that isn't it. I don't know what it is, but it seems like I've been this way for my entire conscious life. I'm a woman who needs rest and quiet. Not at the end of the day, but at the beginning of the day. At the beginning of this day.

So, I'm here on my king-sized platform bed listening to AnteMeridian on www.wcbe.org and I look up noticing Orange, Pauli, Higgs and Jae all in the circumference of this room...watching me. Do they sense my need for rest? Do they wonder if I am I alright? Do they have the capacity to consider their losses this year (Goldie, Poppy and, of course, Michael) and project my apparent listlessness into the future?

I don't think so. I think they're just watching so they don't miss any action.

I like to think that I'm resting so that I don't miss any action. I certainly can't project any of my experience into the future. I can just exist in what is now. I do believe that finding stillness in now is essential to my wellness.

...and the plush Berber (it's 30% vegetable oil) is almost as comfy a place to prepare for what's next as this bed.

Waay tooo looong

2008-08-20T20:11:00.004-04:00

Funny [sic] what it sometimes takes to knock sense into me.

Last night I participated in a rather disturbing conversation regarding the loss of my job just over two years ago. Went to bed upset, awoke upset, drove upset, participated in a charrette...yeah, you got it...upset.

But the state of my mood (or maybe just the act of putting words to my frustration) seems to have had a positive effect. I did get up at 4:45 am and not dawdle out of the house. I did get to the place I needed to be. I did eat healthfully all day long. I did come home and fix a meal rather than snack. I did go for a run. I did not drink any wine (though there's still time). ; )

Snuck it in there... you read it...YES -- I DID GO FOR A RUN. A mile and a half. Outside. For the first time in over two years (and I cannot actually remember how long but at least that long) I went for a run. My firing, the back injury, the death, the move (okay, all four moves), the house, the job...the excuses.

Today for the first time in over 28 years I didn't have the steam to run 2 or more miles. I could feel my flabby gut, chin, neck, face, biceps, hamstrings jiggling down the road for a nice, slow 15 minutes. I could feel my breath out of sink, my heart beating in my chest, my aches and pains...I could see the blurriness from the early stages of my cataracts.

As I ran by people half my age...I wondered: Do they know? Do they know how old I am (not)? Do they see me move slowly, but with good form? Do they wonder how I got in such shape or do they think I'm finally starting to exercise later in life? Do they know?

Do I know?

Do I feel more like myself? Absolutely. One mile at a time.

(Gratitude for these lightly used Asics)

My GreenSpot

2008-08-18T07:45:00.004-04:00

This past Friday I received my window sticker from the City of Columbus, designating my home as a Columbus GreenSpot. I immediately and proudly displayed the sticker on my side window where passersby can readily see it. I spent the evening working on the house and garden and was pleased to find myself finally feeling that I genuinely have a home; that it is genuinely mine. My colors, my furniture, my animals, my friends, my love. A house filled with life, love, color and beauty...

Then on Saturday, Jack and I were sitting on the back porch when my neighbor stopped over with a bag of goodies freshly picked from his garden...grapes (yes, the old-fashioned kind with seeds), tomatoes, and peaches. My neighbors are friendly, helpful and kind. It is a good place to live. When I think of neighbors, I will always remember the kindness and generosity of spirit of my Cleveland neighbors who were there for me when my husband died; who provided friendship and company in the long days of learning how to move forward into whatever would be next.

Through everything I am grateful. In so many ways, I know I have found home.

The Growl of a Predator

2008-08-16T10:03:00.007-04:00

I've been following Leroy Sievers' blog My Cancer for over a year now. By the time I started getting the feeds, he'd outlived the prognosis of his stage four cancer for over two years. He had rallied and regained strength and the cancer had come back in strange and unpredictable ways that had limited and sometimes bizarre treatment options. Today I awoke to a rare Saturday post. I held my breath and read that he died last night.

Leroy was a journalist and had traveled to some of the most dangerous and lifeforsaken places in the world. He was adventuresome and curious; smart and boyish. I enjoyed getting to know him. He considered his work toward health a battle, and used all of the typical war metaphors describing his illness. I wish that we had better language to capture struggle against illness...perhaps it's just life, but that is a subject for another day. Today I honor his battle and that of those who loved him.

I am moved by the strength of a man who last posted two days ago and his wife Laurie who lately posted more often than he. Moved by their love, moved by their fear, moved by their courage, moved by their vulnerability, moved by their humility.

I don't know them, but through this blogosphere, feel connected. In honor of that life and of that blogosphere, I share Laurie's post from yesterday.

August 15, 2008

The Growl Of A Predator

[Laurie Singer sent us this post. Leroy is planning to be back next week].

On any normal day, this would just be a really bad thunderstorm rumbling its way across the summer sky.

But it's not a normal day and the rumbling is more like the growl of a predator stalking its prey.

Leroy's cancer is making its move.

I guess we all knew this day would come. The day when his doctor would say the medicine needs to be stronger.

The day when I would need to be stronger still.

The thunderstorm has passed, but I can still hear the growl.

-- Laurie

Design Paradigm

2008-08-13T18:28:00.003-04:00

Working in the field of design day after day, I see two attitudes that are what I would consider the antithesis of good design:

Attitude One: We design the way we do because it is how we set our fees. We are efficient and consistent. We have designed this way for years and our clients are satisfied with our work.

Attitude Two: We design the way we do because we want recognition. We strive to be avant garde and to impress with our signature elements.

Neither attitude values the owner. Neither value reflects the community. So I ask: What new questions do we need to ask to raise the barre for our clients; Ohio's public schools? How might we begin to guide our designers to a place where they are willing to adopt a value system of form following function; of operational efficiency over design efficiency? In what ways might we assist designers in learning that their legacy is formed in the intrinsic and extrinsic value of their designs...not in the bottom line design cost; not in the lack of connection.

How do we use our position to support the new conversations of how we are stronger together?

This is how I approach every day. I approach each day with the goal of learning to be better together.

New

2008-08-12T19:56:00.003-04:00

I'm grateful for a restful and loving weekend. It was rejuvenating...and a good preemptive measure for today's activity -- golf.

Yes, you read that. GOLF

Today, I played my first round of golf. All 18 holes with a group of guys from the office. How much practice did I have? Well, not much. I bought my clubs on August 2nd and went to the driving range that day. I'm told that I am not the "best student." A little difficult...not serious enough. I went to the driving range a week later...and today: Out with the guys.

I must be honest, I've been to the driving range twice before -- about 8 years ago. Nothing before, nothing since. That is until August.

How about that? I did well...considering. I actually did poorly, though I had an occasional good shot. I also contributed to our "success" in the scramble. I was grateful for the kindness and support of my team. I'm not really much worse for the wear either.

Except that 9 inch welt on my left shin from falling into an unmarked drain pipe near our very first tee. Hurts like you wouldn't believe. I limped a bit, but I played and quickly forgot about it.

Now that I think about it, I think I'll go nurse my injury with a bag of peas.

Long Week

2008-08-09T12:38:00.003-04:00

One EcoCharrette, 2 days of eQUEST training, 1 LEED for Existing Buildings Technical Review, 1 meeting with design principles, 1 meeting with a school district whose design team that is obstreperously struggling with all that we ask of them. Over 500 miles driven; 55 hours of work. I haven't seen my desk since last week. In between the meetings and miles traveled, I've scheduled myself other weeks similar to this.

The question in my mind is: As things get going -- they are just starting to get busy -- will I do well? Will I find a way to enjoy the travel, provide compassionate guidance and direction to the concerned design teams and school districts, focus on my continued growth and find ways to nurture myself?

Or will I simply endure traveling, provide instructions, read white papers and recover from exhaustion?

The second option doesn't seem like much of a life, but it does reflect what most people offer themselves. It doesn't seem like a life that I would take much pride in or wish to share.

I surely hope that doesn't become me. I feel awfully tired.

Political Corrections

2008-08-04T18:34:00.004-04:00

Today, like many other days, I crossed the path of someone who was following the money; following the prestige; following the trend.

Sad thing is, like many other people, they were following things they either didn't believe in or didn't understand.

Tomorrow, the curious thing is that, I will meet more people who don't know what they stand for; don't invest in understanding where they are; they follow the money and they follow the trends.

What is my role righting in that?

What is my role for helping that?

Am I a casual observer or do I have more responsibility than that? If I have responsibility, how do I manifest it in a way that encourages positive change.

I guess I'll bring a few pennies...just in case.

Wholeness

2008-07-31T22:11:00.006-04:00

It is interesting the way we seek wholeness.

When we are naive, we ask "what will make me whole?" We seek our wholeness in that which is outside of us.

In truth, our wholeness is in our grasp; in our lives. We give it away, we leave it in places, we allow our new pain to reside in the place of the old...

We must revisit those places and ask the hard questions of ourselves: What must I do to create continuity? Whom must I ask to relinquish control? How can I accept life...as it is?

And yet be whole.

Imperfect

2008-07-29T09:05:00.002-04:00

“[The grade of] ‘A’ is a possibility to live in to, not a standard to live up to.” ~ Rosamund Stone Zander

The biggest lesson I continually learn about myself is about my ability to learn and grow...more precisely and honestly I am reminded of my need to learn and grow. My work, friends, animals, family, neighbors, community, house, car...all keep reminding me: "you might be alright, and you still have a tremendous amount of learning to do."

Like my colleague Rob's HUGE puppy (85 pounds at six months) growing hurts. It exhausts me. It takes all of the energy I have; yet somehow it brings me more:

More joy; more love; more patience; more compassion.

I don't believe in grade inflation. Right now, I would grade myself about average. Average for me. I've done better; I've done worse.

That would be a 'C'.

What I like about that is it gives me tremendous room for improvement.

Aging...gracefully!?!

2008-07-18T21:23:00.003-04:00

I had a meditation last year where, after a very long time, I saw my true self again. I looked at myself and I thought, "Yeah, this woman that was nicknamed Gaia in grad school needs to come back out and play." The hiker, the strong, natural woman.

So I decided that I wanted to let me hair go grey.

It's going. I really like it.

I feel like if I'm moving along the path of the vision and feel of that woman, I'm doing the right thing.

Two nights ago I had an eye appointment. Here I am, the widow...perimenopausal...on my period...having the love of my life...and I hear:

"Your optic nerve looks good, your retinas look great (but see me if you get any sign of detachment right away), your vitreal gel looks good...and you have the very beginnings of cataracts. The good news is that if they have to replace your lens, they can correct your vision."

And I think: How did I get 20 years older than I am. I thought I was 42...not 62.

Nonetheless, it went a long way to explaining the nightblindness in a way I can live with.

The 3 Rules

2008-07-10T22:43:00.006-04:00

quoting j/z:

There are 3 sanity rules for any relationship. Rule #1: Only one of us gets to have drama at any point in time. Rule #2: Don’t hog the drama. Rule #3: A day of no drama is a good day for all.

There are three essentials for any relationship.

Essential #1: Empathy - Walking in the other's shoes; Essential #2: Compassion - Connecting through your heart; and Essential #3: Generosity - offering your gifts freely.

Funny thing...these three essentials always lead me to a place of gratitude; a place of joy.

Grief

2008-07-08T19:12:00.001-04:00

sneaks up on you

a reminder of life

a connector to now

a bridge to what is next

Dieing and Rebirth

2008-07-07T09:24:00.002-04:00

What is borne of all this?

Walking into the garden at my house in Cleveland, I see clearly what is lost. I see the waste, the lack of care, all of the signs of the love and presence that is no longer there. I see the ghosts of what he tried to give me. I feel the guilt of not being able to steward that any longer.

Did the garden die with him? Is that the metaphor for what we were?

Perhaps.

I feel the remorse of being so strong-willed that I couldn't get work here. I feel a sense of melancholy that I left. I feel my life -- split between two places; two existences that I love. I feel the sense of uneasy ambivalence that is the forbearer of change.

I am at a loss to know what is next. I feel rebirth around the corner. The intensely bright sun is burning my eyes.

Healing is, indeed, painful.

"Not Yet!"

2008-07-02T11:57:00.003-04:00

Today is our Executive Director Mike Shoemaker's 63rd birthday. Upon wishing him happy birthday, he shared the following:

An old coot was sitting at the side of the road watching the day pass when a stranger walked by and asked, "Hey, old man, d'you live here your whole life?"

"Nope, not yet."

Hitchin' a Ride

2008-06-30T18:08:00.004-04:00

"Troubled times, you know I can not lie
I'm off the wagon and I'm hitchin' a ride."

Funny how some of the most simple thoughts can mull around in your brain until they become more profound than they were ever meant to be...

I was listening to Green Day while driving and on came this swinging little punk rock song (swing beat, bass, swing dancing in the video). Having heard it dozens of times and enjoyed it each time, this picture came into my head:

I'm off the wagon and I'm hitchin' a ride

Yeah...I'm really thankful for those who purposefully and serendipitously either remind me of or bring me to my higher self. I have no idea what the intent of the song was other than boyish fun...but it the end, when I'm off the wagon, I do hope that I can look around me and find that ride.

1,2...1,2,3,4

Fear/Joy

2008-06-26T09:35:00.004-04:00

For the last few days my fear has acted as an unruly barrier to my joy. I've found myself grouchy, temperamental, unpleasant, and at times even inconsolable. Only in the moments of work when my counsel has been useful have I felt any sense of my joy. Fortunately, things are very busy at work and an hour or two there buries the fear.

But it comes back...It sneaks back in the restful hours of the evening when I'm trying to plan my weekend, when I'm asking myself, "What should I do?"

I have no answers and that is scary to me. I am weighing staying and going, but neither seems like the right choice. I am not in harmony even with what I want to do...which is to stay home and ignore the whole situation. But even then, there's a part of me that believes there is no getting away...there is no hiding...there is no respite.

Not until I deal with it one-on-one, call it by its name and demand it go away.

There is too much at risk if I don't deal with my fear...but I know that my joy will wait patiently while the fear will run amok until I get it under control.

Hope

2008-06-23T19:54:00.004-04:00

"For hope, contrary to popular belief, is tantamount to resignation. And to live is not to be resigned." Albert Camus, Summer in Algiers

I've thought a great deal about that word hope since reading that line and it resonates strongly with me. We often find ourselves sitting still and hoping for this and that rather than actively working toward change.

I have also followed Leroy Sievers' blog "My Cancer" for quite some time now. He has stage four cancer, and has been through more treatment than I believe I would have the courage to try. Today I read this:

Did it work? Did the radiation I had last week do what it was supposed to do? I don't know. I can't tell. At least, not yet.

The radiation on my brain is a long-term thing. Our goal there was to slow down any tumor growth and prevent any new problems. If there are side effects, they'd show up in about three years or so. Needless to say, not something I need to worry about.

My pelvis, and the pain there, is still the main thing I have to worry about. The hope was that the radiation would heal some of the fractures caused by the cancer, and kill some nerve cells to lessen the pain.

Honestly, I can't tell if it is working or not. I'm trying to be patient, because it was supposed to take a couple of days before any effect would be noticeable. But I still have pain there as I write this. The same? More? Less? I honestly can't tell.

I guess patience really is the key to this. Whatever improvement I get, I will be grateful for. If things stay the same as they were -- well, I haven't lost anything that way, either.

That's the way it goes in Cancer World. You take your best shot, hope for good results, and live with what happens.

I can do that.

I understand hope in the context of life and death matters; in places where we need patience, courage, and relief; where what we seek is mercy pure and simple.

In that case, hope delivers life.

Courage

2008-06-20T19:35:00.002-04:00

"When we discover our connection with the earth, courage becomes as natural as breathing."

I read that somewhere today. I was filled with gratitude.

Looking in All the Wrong Places

2008-06-16T10:13:00.006-04:00

I take notice each morning when leaving the house of the mating pair of cardinals in my backyard...usually low in the magnolia tree chirping at me; clearly warning me. They must have their nest in that tree.

I sit on my back porch scanning through the tree for the nest. I look each morning from the higher vantage point of my shower window for it. The tree is so dense with leaves, it's hard to see anything in there.

Then, in the early evening yesterday I was reading on the back porch and the cardinal pair was sitting on the fence behind me chirping exuberantly. I turned slowly to look at them and, as I turned, I looked right at the nest...in the rose bush that climbs the trellis over my back porch. At standing height, it is around eye level. I'm not tall enough to see in it.

When I peer out my back door quietly, I can see a little cardinal head peeping out of the nest. I note they fly away whenever I go outside; whenever I let the dogs out.

I do hope they adjust to us...this year they were here first and deserve to nurture their babies in peace.

Je te Adore

2008-06-15T10:08:00.004-04:00

To adore, according to Merriam-Webster, means:

1 : to worship or honor as a deity or as divine 2 : to regard with loving admiration and devotion <adored his wife> 3 : to be very fond of <adores pecan pie>

Several weeks ago, an acquaintance was described as "looking for a man who adores her." This was described in detail as wanting a man who puts her up on a pedestal and treats her like a deserved princess, worships her and buys her extravagant gifts. I thought, "no, that kind of relationship would not be for me." Viewing someone as though they are beyond perfect and without fault comes with very high expectations and is bound to lead to disappointment for everyone. It's certainly not the kind of love that nurtures the soul. It's the kind of relationship that removes you from what is real; what is life. Not for me.

Then I considered that word "adore." There are many people whom I adore. I really truly adore them. There is no better word for it. I love them, admire them and, for me to adore them, they also tickle me to no end. They make my daily sense of being that much more pleasurable. I have friends, colleagues, family members, and a lover who I adore. Literally.

So, thinking of these people who I adore, people who comprise the substance of my heart, I am certainly struck with the irony of this word. Adoration comes in two varieties. In terms of the nurturing it provides, those two are worlds apart.

[missing you, Jack. Have a beautiful time in WY.]

Editing for Others

2008-06-14T11:08:00.004-04:00

About 10 years ago I wrote my first piece for public distribution -- a technical document on the processes and tools for developing an EnergySmart School -- I developed a large editorial board that helped ensure technical credibility and to ensure that I was properly addressing the language requirements of the Federal government. The project was sponsored by the US Department of Energy's Office of Energy Efficiency and Renewable Energy and there were many restrictions on how I could use language and present benefits.

Anyway, to my surprise, many of the edits arrived with sincere apologies for the suggested changes. Yes, I painstakingly arranged the 16 81/2" x 11" pages into philosophy, technology, process, tools and using the school as a learning laboratory. Concise with text and dense with information, the booklet was geared toward school administrators to help them understand the benefits of high performance building. And I, a visual and kinesthetic learner -- I who am not often detail oriented -- needed all of the help I could get editing for content, continuity and flow.

It was only with gratitude that I received these edits. Each person's efforts made the document that much more robust, concise and a joy to hand out to others. Without those efforts, I would have never known if I was representing so many points of view well; without those efforts I would never have known whether I was actually communicating well with anyone.

To this day, it is my pleasure to have other people edit my work. It is a necessity for me. Even more so, it is an honor when I am asked to reflect on the work of others.

Appearances

2008-06-11T20:36:00.003-04:00

Eating peacefully alone yesterday afternoon:

1)

Me: Spagio, asparagus and lobster ravioli, the NY Times, a glass of cabernet eating alone on a late Tuesday afternoon. Something brought me to thinking about my mom who frequently eats alone at Applebees eating a grilled chicken wrap, reading an historical romance, drinking chardonnay...

So similar, yet worlds apart.

2)

Four women. All dressed well in mostly white summer outfits. One without makeup, just from the gym. All drinking the same draft lager from the tap at Spagio. All excited to be there. All with the same nicely dyed blonde hair color but different styles.

Question: Would you expect they had their fingernails done?

I did.

Not one of them did. Each one's nails were short, well manicured and unpolished.

Interesting, isn't it?

Photos are Up!

2008-06-10T10:24:00.001-04:00

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

Yea!

considering home

2008-06-09T23:34:00.004-04:00

when we consider the ties of home,

we may and we may not

find the stuff that we are made of

$14,017.06

2008-06-09T06:37:00.006-04:00

Fourteen thousand seventeen dollars and six cents...

That's the judgment (including interest and attorney fees) against me as offered by the Commonwealth of Alexandria for "breach of lease."

It's the financial cost of my decision not to move to DC; the cost of my living split in two places and not keeping up with my mail well enough to know I needed to appear in court; the cost of closing the painful business of last year. It is the last bit of unreasonable dealings with people who sink to their most base behavior when there is an opportunity to make a little cash. In the scheme of things, it's really very little cash. I know that for the rest of their lives, every time they spend a penny, the gentlemen who successfully sued me will think of me and how they took advantage of me at the lowest point of my life.

Funny thing about that cost...it feels more like freedom.

I will send that check with only gratitude.

Authenticity

2008-06-05T20:48:00.003-04:00

This year I decided to let my hair go grey. Having colored my hair for a long time, I have been working on letting it get back to its natural color and have enjoyed it. So, my temples are white and there are silvery flecks throughout my head. Liking it very much myself, I asked Jack, "Do you like it?" He really does. When I queried him as to why, he answered that it seemed very authentic.

Funny thing about authenticity...it doesn't necessitate being natural, but it does necessitate being truthful. So, all of the years I colored my hair because it was fun were years in which I was being authentic. Now that I am ready for something different, it is also authentic. It is just that I am feeling grounded, earthy, and slightly wizened...I've earned these greys and wear them proudly.

Today I was reminded of authenticity while out buying some soap. I saw a woman dressed in a skirt suit with heels. She was very well manicured, yet rather homely. As I looked at her, I realized she was a male. I remembered talking with Michael some years ago about respecting a person's choice to present themselves as they prefer -- as they feel most real -- even if it is pure fantasy.

Authentic does not mean natural; natural does not mean authentic.

Authenticity honors truth, regardless of how impermanent that truth may be.

Importance of Discernment

2008-06-04T22:05:00.004-04:00

I met Bob Kobet at 7 a.m. this morning for our drive to Cincinnati...Bob self-described NPR junkie and the first thing out of his mouth was, "Did you hear the news?" It was about the current status of the democratic candidate for President. We talked about Hillary and Barack. I explained that I strongly, perhaps viscerally, dislike Hillary. As I began describing my issue with her (another topic for another day) and thinking about why it was so strangely clear for me, I realized that I perceive her as infinitely selfish. She is selfish to her own detriment. She is selfish to the point that she lacks connection to what anyone else wants or needs. She is selfish to the point that she has no discernment for what is in the greatest good.

That goes for the status of our democratic nominee for President.

That goes for her relationship with her husband.

That goes for this country.

I am relieved to read that she will concede. Our President needs to feel connected to us; to the world. Our President needs to be able to discern what truly is for the greatest good; what is for his or her own good.

No Guarantees

2008-06-04T06:16:00.003-04:00

"We are building the plane as we fly it." That's what our fearless director says about the work we do. In my case, I feel like we are building the plane as I am learning to fly (and someone else is reading me the instruction booklet on both).

As we move forward in beginning $4.1 billion in school building projects, I'm charged with the task of ensuring that our design teams meet our lofty "green building" goals. The question always arises,

"If we don't achieve LEED-Silver for our project, do we get paid?"

Well, yes: First you have to intend to meet the goal (and I have to believe your intention) and work in good faith toward achieving the goal; second, you must meet the energy performance requirements of our goal.

How we do that and whether we are successful in certification is anybody's guess because it isn't up to us. My answer is not particularly satisfactory to an architect looking for a guarantee. We have so many buildings in various states of disrepair, quality and age that there is no prescriptive way to create protocol for guaranteed success for our design teams.

A person's need for an absolute guarantees implies that he or she is strongly adverse to risk. Asking for an absolute guarantee seems to be a very subtle way of saying, "I'd like to continue business as usual, even if I know I could do better."

support

2008-06-02T18:48:00.002-04:00

They say you need a good bra in order to "keep the girls up where they should be," to keep them from sagging down to your navel, to keep you looking young and perky for as long as possible. Now I have nothing against youth, but sometimes I wonder about these expensive, short lived, often impractical and frequently uncomfortable torture devices. On an average day, wearing a high-quality well-fitting bra, I will reach under my shirt to pull up my bra straps dozens of times. The material wears out quickly, which often can just mean that those girls are going on a southward road trip; however, occasionally that ever present underwire breaks and begins its slow descent into breast tissue...usually while at work and in a silk blouse.

Anyway, today I was wrapping up a shopping trip at the pet supply store...locating my purchase, my car keys...my sunglasses...where are those sunglasses? "Oh, here they are." Between my cleavage with one earpiece neatly tucked in and secured by the center part of the underwire.

Yes, at 42 I have finally discovered the very best use of that damned underwire:

It is a secure location to hold those pesky reading glasses. It works for sunglasses, too.