On Suicide

As time moves forward, many of my friends are dealing with the tragedy that is suicide, I found myself sharing this with a friend.  I do believe it is useful for many.

Michael had been suicidal off and on for much of his adult life. From family, I heard bi-polar. From a former in-patient psychiatrist, I heard narcissitic personality disorder. From the head psychiatrist of the Cleveland Clinic, I heard, "Don't get involved in his games," "he's doing okay now, but you and I know most likely one day he'll drive himself into that bridge," and when he finally died at his own hand, I also heard, "Man, he really had started to show joy and I thought just maybe I thought he'd beat the odds." His primary diagnoses were the entire litany of personality disorders, but I know the root was PTSD. Childhood abuse. Rendered him completely incapable of telling the truth and deeply manipulative if he felt threatened. He felt his whole life was threatened every time he was triggered and fell back into despair. Nonetheless, he was untreatable because he would never discuss the roots of his illness with a doctor. Would self-unmedicate and then go back to his family doc for minimal meds. We know that the hippocampus and amygdala are affected by depression, making the symptoms much worse and causing physical shrinkage of the amygdala and it becomes a viscious cycle. We know that those with untreated depression and bipolar disorder have more volume loss. We also can compare those people to non-depressed immediate family members and not see the same volume loss. We also know that the adrenalin surges of PTSD are so visceral that as the body habituates to reacting like that, no amount of rational thought can stop it. That's one reason why treating people with the kind of trauma that precedes PTSD with blood pressure meds can help them avoid the problem all together. But, over time, if the body reacts that way with triggers, it takes intensive dialectical behavioral therapy and EMDR to have any hope of alleviating that visceral and uncontrollable response. But we also know that psychiatry is often far from science. Far from able, and many people who suffer from psychiatric problems, particularly those with comorbid personality disorders with depression can be difficult to treat. The most powerful thing anyone said to me was my friends' 16 year old autistic kid, Isaac. We were meeting for dinner at a local restaurant and Isaac looked at me in a mirror (they were waiting at the bar, which was mirrored at the time) and said, "Elaine is that you?" I said yes. He turned around, high-fived me and said, "You are not dead." He greeted me like that every time he saw me for about a year after Mike died. I guess for anyone dealing with the suicide of a friend or loved one, you need to know that there was NOTHING she could have done and nothing she did to cause her mom to shoot herself. Eight years after my husband's life, I am still discovering more things that either I can't understand or help fill in more details. There is no way I can ever understand what was in his head, what caused him to do many of the horrendous things he did in his worst moments or what actually caused his decent into mental illness of this type. What they say is frequently deflection from reality. There is nothing rational about it. What I do know is that when a person commits suicide, they are exhausted from the struggle and just can't do it anymore. Mike was such a good man in his better moments.

Reflections of Self

I thought I'd found the love of my life, and as it turned out, what I found was me.
…….

My life has been quietly morphing over the last few years and a recent foot injury forced me to sit down and think about my life and how to live it. Through the injury, physical therapy and physical rehabilitation, I have been reminded of my humble humanity and also learned (or relearned) things about myself, my needs and desires. Much of this learning has happened through interactions with friends both old and new.

It's always been my theory that we form friendships with people who remind us of ourselves and yet offer us something complementary to which we ascribe value. I adore my friends -- my very close friends and my more social friends are some of the best people out there.  In January, I had a need to reach out to my friends to help me because I couldn't walk, couldn't drive, couldn't walk stairs, couldn't walk dogs… and they came to my aid again and again. Being reliant on people was a humbling experience and I can only repay the kindness by continuing to be present and offer myself to the world. At the time that this accident happened, I had recently left a job, finally gotten an ex to get his things out of my house (after nearly a year of trying) was feeling very sad-sap "I have no one" lonely and boy did my attitude change with the way people came to my aid.

During this period of convalescence, I entered my 50th year and decided that I needed to get my shit together and get my life back on track.  I re-engaged with my career and set my boundaries for that work, I started the long process of healing my body from years of neglect and I started thinking about finding a partner. I shifted from wanting entrepreneurial work to wanting work that I could bring to fruition over many years; I shifted from wanting an urban life to wanting land where I could farm and let the dogs run; I began to meet people outside my social circle and think about actually dating for the first time in my life.

So, I reworked my resume, stopped drinking as much, started walking regularly and joined every online dating site that seemed more than just a way to hook-up with a near stranger. I reached out to friends who I hadn't seen because I was embarrassed for myself and healed some near-broken relationships that had suffered during the past boyfriend-work fiasco.  I let people know I loved them and I cheered myself on through rejection -- jobs, people, potential loves.

I went on a few interviews and learned about what I want my life to look like.  When asked the question, "Where do you want to be in five years," my response was simple: working a meaningful job and living a peaceful life.

I invited a few people into my home and learned that I was loved.  My house is  a place where friends randomly stop by, invite me to social events (even at the last minute) and share their own struggles with me in addition to genuinely caring how I'm doing.

I went on a few dates and learned what I want in a partner.  I was both rejected and rejected others.  I really don't like being hurt, but even more, I dislike hurting others. Given my rather … [I don't have language] personality, I realized that given who I am, in order to meet a good long-term love and avoid the massive rejection-rejecting cycle, I need to meet them organically and through interactions where I am actively being my authentic self and, so, I abandoned the online dating.

I recently met someone who presented himself in such a way that I was really taken (and still am in many ways). What I saw in him was truly a reflection of myself.  My subconscious reaching out and asserting itself so I could move forward.

Our interaction reminded me of my true self; my higher self with the experience and discernment of a nearly 50 year old woman.  Although it was a brief, but deeply meaningful interaction, I learned what I am looking for in a partner, which is much different than the 20- and 30- something year old kid wanted.

I am no longer the widow, still feeling the deep trauma of a suicidal husband.  I have returned to a whole, wizened and strong person who is blessed with a wonderful, strange and thriving life.

What do I want?  Deep, fierce love.  Comfort.  A peaceful home. Friends coming and going and work that makes me feel as though this short life matters.  My partner will have experienced the dark side of life and still chooses the light.  He will be willing to put his hands in the mud and blood of life and not look away even when deeply painful. My partner will be curious and try to understand the world around him including those who are philosophically different.  My partner will accept people's humanity and uniqueness.  My partner will revel in our differentness. He will be madly intelligent, be able to keep confidences, be independent, be thoughtful, imperfect and deliberate.  He will be deeply kind. We will not be teaching each other, but we will be constantly learning together.

And so, within that brief contact with a lovely human being who is out of reach, was my true self making a friend and seeing  that self in his eyes just as I would like to be and with my whole life flourishing.  For that, I will be eternally grateful.
…….

On that note, I close with the following: when I was a young adult, I made many bad love choices by trying to heal the broken.  I fell in love with this song and would listen to this song and think of a troubled lover and how I could fix them.  Today, when I hear this song -- when I sing along with this song -- I sing it to myself recognizing my wounds, my imperfections and my desire for me to thrive.

U2, Bad. (Unforgettable Fire)

Every once in a while you get a glimpse of the future that you wish you could have.  This week, I had just that experience. I may have met (though virtually) the love of my life.  But, life is about timing and survival, and sometimes they stand in the way.  While I remain hopeful, I recognize that so very many things I don't understand are out of my control.

Opening New Doors

Living in Cleveland again was hard, but I'm glad I did it and closed a few chapters.  Now, I'm on to new adventures, opening new doors… grateful for responsible renters and all of my friends everywhere.  Namaste.

So, I had a stroke... at such a young age that they are looking for causes.  No lasting impacts, but still there is the concern about why.  The stress I've been under for the last many years may be the cause or may simply compounded whatever neurological issues are going on with me.  Once I am a bit better, I am going to the police station to report the person who tried to run me down in the parking lot and initiate a restraining order.

For now, I will sit in my lovely back yard on a gorgeous day and watch the dogs play amidst the falling flowers from my oak tree.

Life is alright.

PTSD settles in and makes its nest in my Home

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

June 9, 2009

Texas Department of Criminal Justice, Parole Division
c/o Angela McCown, Director
Victim Services Division
8712 Shoal Creek Blvd., Suite 265
Austin, TX 78757-6899

Re: Offender Donald Renard McWilliam, TDCJ ID: 00566921

Dear Ms. McCown and the TDCJ Parole Board,

I am writing in regard to the parole application for Donald Renard McWilliam. 

On August 23, 1989, Mr. McWilliam brutally murdered Kathy Lynn Alley. He broke in to her house, waited for her to come home from work and attacked her. He stole her car and her jewelry and bragged to his cousin who lived nearby in the same gated condominium complex that he “shot [and maybe killed] that white bitch.” Kathy called 911 and remained alert long enough to clearly identify her assailant to an officer at the hospital. She died in the hospital during emergency surgery to treat multiple gunshot wounds. Her words were so profound and from such a place of truth that they served to aid in Mr. McWilliam’s conviction. Kathy was buried 3 days later on her 33rd birthday. 

I respectfully request that Donald Renard McWilliam’s parole be denied.

Although I did not know Kathy prior to her murder, I feel like I know her very well. I am writing on behalf of my husband, Michael Angelo Salva, who was her long-time fiancée prior to her death. I was Michael’s love and partner during the last 7 years of his life. Michael carried the burden of her murder in his heart until he committed suicide on October 22, 2007, three days before his 58th birthday. 

Michael was the oldest of 11 children and the primary caretaker of his siblings. Michael’s father had taken a traveling job and his mother was unable to handle the care of the children by herself, so Michael was burdened with the responsibility of their care from the age of 4. As years passed, the family grew and his responsibilities grew with them. When he graduated from high school with honors and with national records in track and field he left home, went to college and became successful engineer working all over the Americas in the oil industry. He later became the vice president of energy lending at a leading bank in Texas. This was the position he held at the time of Kathy’s murder.

Although he lived far away from his family, Michael was the caretaker of his siblings throughout much of the first 40 years of his life. He remained so until his severe emotional breakdown following Kathy’s murder. According to the best minds in psychiatry, including the Chief of Psychiatry at The Cleveland Clinic, Dr. George Tesar, diagnosis was difficult as his illness was compounded by some type of personality disorder arising from his lack of a childhood freedom and childlike learning experiences. He had no ability to transcend the imperfections of life, let alone a violent act such as the murder of his love. The shock of the brutal murder compounded by the effects of his childhood resulted in a very difficult case of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and depression. Any exacerbation of his condition – anything that frightened him – caused him to become immediately fearful and psychotic and his illness always presented with suicidal ideation. He felt responsible for Kathy’s murder just as he had been responsible for everything that was amiss in his childhood; this violence was unfathomable – he was inconsolable; unreachable. He once described himself as “a wounded antelope being hunted by a pride of lions.”

Immediately following Kathy’s murder, Michael spent 4 years in intensive treatment for his illness. As I understand it, he would seem “fine” for a few years, and there would be a triggering event and he would end up back in the hospital, on medical disability for an extended period of time and eventually make his way back to functionality. But, as anyone who has dealt with life long psychiatric illness knows, as this cycle repeats and it includes depression, there are physical impacts that take a toll on the patient’s long term ability to recover. 

In November 2003, Michael received notice that Donald Renard McWilliams would be eligible for parole for the first time during his incarceration for Kathy Alley’s murder. Michael composed drafts of his victim impact letter over and over between November 2003 and April 2004. He was never truly able to share the impact of this murder on his life with the TDCJ parole board. To him, the impact was the loss of a beautiful life. To me, the impact was the loss of two beautiful lives. He was a sweet and loving man. She was a sweet and loving woman.

During those few months in late 2003 to early 2004, the PTSD-suicide spiral wound itself up again. Between April 2004 and his death nearly four years later, he was hospitalized 9 times for psychosis, depression and/or suicide attempts. Most of the time, he did not leave a suicide note. When he did write a note, he expressed continuing great sorrow and an irrational sense of responsibility for the brutal way his love Kathy was murdered. He wished he could have been there to defend her, to save her, or to have his life taken instead of hers. About three years prior to his death, he left a note for me on the computer, but it simply stated how much he loved me and how tired he was.

Michael’s 10th emergency trip during this time was different. It was a visit to Dr. Balraj at the Cuyahoga County Coroners Office. He died of his own hand, in our garage of asphyxiation from carbon monoxide. 

Michael Angelo Salva was a victim of the very same violence that took the life of Kathy Lynn Alley. It reached into his life and changed everything that he was; everything that he knew. A victim of childhood violence himself, he did not use this as an excuse for becoming violent or brutal. He internalized the violent act of Kathy’s murder and it resonated within his resulting illness. This eventually destroyed him. That same violence reached into my life and changed everything that I am. 

Michael was cremated on what would have been his 58th birthday.

With immense respect for life, love and beauty; with a strong conviction that violence is not the solution for violence, I am grateful that Mr. McWilliam may live a full life. I believe that from his life we may learn how to better prevent violence. I believe that within his own life he has found a physical place where violence can no longer be a means of pleasure. This is a change since his first parole hearing. In fact, at that time Mr. McWilliam had been in the Texas Department of Corrections for 15 years. He had over 1400 misconduct days on record. 

Today, I spoke with Dawanda at the TDCJ Victim Services desk. She reported that he “has no additional lost days since his parole hearing.” His status has been improved to a State Trustee Class 4 (as opposed to a member of the Disciplinary Class). This is still within the locked and guarded security offered at the TDCJ Stiles Unit prison, but he is making some contribution. He is learning to be a part of a community. I don’t know Mr. McWilliam and I cannot imagine what inspired this change, but I am filled with gratitude that no one else has been harmed by his hand. I am filled with gratitude that he may, in fact, be part of a different kind of community within which understanding him we may search for answers for the rampant violence both inside and outside of those locked doors.

Still, allowing Donald Renard McWilliam to leave prison and reenter general society would indeed put innocent people at risk of being victims of violence. By murdering Kathy Lynn Alley, by being convicted of sexual assault (and two other felonies in addition to this murder), by his behavior during his first 15 years in prison, and by still having very limited prison privileges, TDCJ still believes him to be capable of great violence; he has demonstrated that he is capable of great violence. A quick review of Texas’ Death Row list shows men and women who have perpetrated crimes that are in fact heinous, yet no more heinous than his. Unless proven innocent, they will surely never set a free foot back into society and neither should Mr. McWilliam. 

Donald Renard McWilliam does have a burden to carry as a result of his crimes. He does not need to return to society to repay his debt to society. Mr. McWilliam has no debt to repay to society as there is no payment that would be just; but he does have a debt that can and must be repaid by working with and for his fellow inmates for the full extent of his sentence which may, in fact, be the rest of his life. What he owes is to his peers. What he owes is the understanding and sharing of whatever brought him to this state of greater peace and he owes it to his fellow inmates. Through that he may rehabilitate the life of another man in the hope that neither would ever spill another human being’s blood. Through that, he may touch a life. Through that, he may lead another man to his soul. 

Through that gift Donald Renard McWilliam does positively impact the community of humanity.

Every act of violence resonates deeply through the souls and psyches of everyone connected to the act. This violence is all of us. When one of us dies from the hand of violence all living beings are impacted. 

Based on the crime itself, based on the healing required by everyone touched by the violent murder of Kathy Lynn Alley, based on his violent history in prison and based on the ways in which his life might provide the most value and joy to his community and to our society, I implore you to deny parole to Donald Renard McWilliam.

Thank you for your time and attention.

Respectfully yours,


Elaine Lipman Barnes

while today it is mostly rage
         on another day I will wake up
                         and look at the light


                         and look at you



in a new kind of calm

Home

The word home takes on many meanings in our lives and it seems, the older we get, the complications of modern life makes it all the more difficult to find the comfort and respite we need to rejuvenate.  I've moved back to my home in Cleveland.  This is a place with great beauty and comfort, yet it still has the roughness of city living and reminders of difficult times now more than 5 years past.

There are many things I would be involved with had I not had a history here and I find myself wishing for the lack of memories ... of my being fired,  of the death of my husband, of being stalked, of the more recent robbery ... I would find myself volunteering for the local chapter of the Green Building Council, sponsoring and working with environmental groups and maybe even renting a plot in Kentucky gardens.

Still the lingering history breathes gently like a fire burning somewhere needs that needs to be extinguished or used for the greater good.  As I contemplate how to turn it in to the seeds for growth, I just ask that I be let be... that the obsessions and wounds of the past allow to be in the past.

Allow the past to provide nourishment for the future.
Allow the possible future to inspire the present.

Live with joy in the present.

Be home.

"This..."

"This odyssey is..."

[fill in the blank]

Solitary

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

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."

1. Be impeccable with your word
2. Don't take anything personally
3. Don't make assumptions
4. Always do your best

Yes.  I will continue to live by these words.

The "Decider"

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

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

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

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

"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

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

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

"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

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.