I am amazed at the way the wind blows through the canyon
Gently yet strong enough to cause the trees to sway and
softly kiss my face.
We have a new resident here in the back yard: Hummingbird.
She made a nest in one of the palms and is watching over her eggs.
Hummingbird was present during a very important part of my time in
Anza Borrego. What will happen once the eggs hatch?
Yesterday I had pink flowers around me just like the so called healer said
Spirits making their presence known just above my head.
Rilke wrote "He is strong and lively enough in his curiosity to follow the natural line."
Can I be strong and lively enough?
I'm amazed at what happens when I'm really paying attention and present and open and at how easy it can be to forget.
I'm amazed at the way the moon reflects on the ocean even though it is hidden behind clouds. Shiny things.
It's amazing that we met and that we did or did not connect and how similar our stories are and that we never allowed ourselves to fall in love.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Friday, May 13, 2011
Shiny Things
I must say I am feeling somewhat desperate. I have committed to the grief, it has been difficult to stay present with it. It is hard not to attach my stories to the grief. My body is in so much pain, it hurts to sit still as much as it hurts to move. I was hoping the grieving would release some of this but I woke up hurting more this morning than I did yesterday. I want to use what I have learned to get through this but it is getting harder to remember the tools I have acquired. At times I know that my people are with me and that I am connected to the Earth and there are other times that I feel lost and scared and completely alone.
Yesterday at the ocean I remembered a time in February that I was running on the beach. I believe it was a day or two before the vision quest. As I was running I kept getting distracted by the beauty of the waves and I finally gave in and began to play in them like a child. I was overwhelmed with a sense of love and light that I have never experienced before. I told this story during the first vision quest council and described it as falling in love with my Self. I was the love and the light I felt that day. I have to remember that I am still Love and Light, although I can't currently run or play, and at times the grief seems to overwhelm me. I am of the Earth. That is why I am here, grieving now.
A friend of mine told me of a village where they honor their grief daily and their tears are known as jade beads that make things shine. I give my jade beads to the Earth. So I am asking you, when you see shiny things like leaves glimmering in the sun or a raindrop on a blade of grass, think of me and my tears and help me remember that we are connected and I am not alone. Maybe even give a jade bead of your own.
Yesterday at the ocean I remembered a time in February that I was running on the beach. I believe it was a day or two before the vision quest. As I was running I kept getting distracted by the beauty of the waves and I finally gave in and began to play in them like a child. I was overwhelmed with a sense of love and light that I have never experienced before. I told this story during the first vision quest council and described it as falling in love with my Self. I was the love and the light I felt that day. I have to remember that I am still Love and Light, although I can't currently run or play, and at times the grief seems to overwhelm me. I am of the Earth. That is why I am here, grieving now.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Release
I've been cultivating my relationship with grief. I would not have chosen these lessons for myself right now as I am stepping into this new life but apparently there is more work to be done in regards to my understanding of depression and sorrow. I have lived with depression most of my life. Last year I went off of antidepressants. I was able to do this with the skills I learned in psychotherapy, spiritual work and naturopathic treatment. I have been doing great and feel a lot less foggy now that I am no longer taking Prozac or anything of the like.
To my surprise, feelings of hopelessness and despair began to creep up these last couple of weeks. I had been warned that some of my old "stuff" would come up post vision quest but this has been rough. On top of the emotional pain, I have been in a lot of physical pain as well. I have had muscle aches and soreness and a hunger and thirst that can't seem to get satisfied. I began to wish that I could turn back the clock and was almost angry at my Self for leaving my "normal" life behind even though deep down I know it was not fulfilling. I have been near tears constantly, it was showing up at my new job and I have been unable to explore this city because of the physical pain. "What do you want?", I asked the sorrow and the pain. It has taken me a while to begin to get answers but this is what I've come up with so far:
I need to live grief in order to know it. Depression is the suppression of grief, or any feelings for that matter. So, instead of trying so hard to fight it or to "get better" I am letting my Self feel the grief, love it and thank it for it's lessons and it's beauty. I will not insult it by masking it with prescriptions. I'm not even sure what or whom I am grieving for, it doesn't really matter. I need to understand the workings of depression in order to help others. I've lived it but never quite understood. I believe that the pain is here to make sure that I know. The vision quest brought a lot to the surface but as one of my fellow questers said recently, the vision quest was the easy part. As I go forward I have to fully understand my stories in order to share my gifts.
I found something yesterday that I wrote in my journal on the vision quest, shortly after my solo:
Release
There is a story full of weeping and horror
Know the story
More importantly know the thing you call pain
and the thing you call suffering
Live it
LOVE it
Let the wealth of it flow in you and be grateful for it every day
Love the Other's
Remember that time is not of importance
If you have one wish let it be Release
If you cry no more something is lost
Always Release
Open the gate, be the Others
Remember Grand Mother is there to hold you
To my surprise, feelings of hopelessness and despair began to creep up these last couple of weeks. I had been warned that some of my old "stuff" would come up post vision quest but this has been rough. On top of the emotional pain, I have been in a lot of physical pain as well. I have had muscle aches and soreness and a hunger and thirst that can't seem to get satisfied. I began to wish that I could turn back the clock and was almost angry at my Self for leaving my "normal" life behind even though deep down I know it was not fulfilling. I have been near tears constantly, it was showing up at my new job and I have been unable to explore this city because of the physical pain. "What do you want?", I asked the sorrow and the pain. It has taken me a while to begin to get answers but this is what I've come up with so far:
I need to live grief in order to know it. Depression is the suppression of grief, or any feelings for that matter. So, instead of trying so hard to fight it or to "get better" I am letting my Self feel the grief, love it and thank it for it's lessons and it's beauty. I will not insult it by masking it with prescriptions. I'm not even sure what or whom I am grieving for, it doesn't really matter. I need to understand the workings of depression in order to help others. I've lived it but never quite understood. I believe that the pain is here to make sure that I know. The vision quest brought a lot to the surface but as one of my fellow questers said recently, the vision quest was the easy part. As I go forward I have to fully understand my stories in order to share my gifts.
I found something yesterday that I wrote in my journal on the vision quest, shortly after my solo:
Release
There is a story full of weeping and horror
Know the story
More importantly know the thing you call pain
and the thing you call suffering
Live it
LOVE it
Let the wealth of it flow in you and be grateful for it every day
Love the Other's
Remember that time is not of importance
If you have one wish let it be Release
If you cry no more something is lost
Always Release
Open the gate, be the Others
Remember Grand Mother is there to hold you
Saturday, April 30, 2011
re-membering
This morning I picked “The World is a Waiting Lover” and began to read it from the beginning. I did not realize that the author, Trebbe Johnson, is a guide for AVI, the organization I chose to do my vision quest with. The first chapter recounts parts of a vision quest she was guiding on, specifically the morning that the questers returned from their solo after three days and three nights. As I was reading I was immediately taken back to the morning I returned from my solo. My skin darkened, my hair unkempt, and I am certain, a wildness in my eyes, I stumbled into base camp and although I hadn’t eaten for four days, I felt stronger that morning that I have for weeks in this time space as I fill my body with toxins and my mind with egocentric thoughts. Coming off the solo really was like waking from a dream and I continued in this state for at least several days.
My new friends, fellow questers and guides, had been there to welcome me back from my time alone. I fell into their embrace and saw my Self reflected in their wild eyes. I did not care to share words with them that morning, did not know how, only hugs, tears, laughter and energy. After four miraculous days without food I hesitated to ingest anything, it seemed so foreign to me. As I read about it this morning I could still recall the taste of the avocado I was fed along with a root vegetable I can’t recall the name of, all sprinkled with lemon juice and salt. Nothing so simple ever tasted so good.
I have hardly vocalized to any human beings what happened those two weeks in the desert, particularly what took place on my solo. To do so would somehow do an injustice to the experience but you may begin to see bits and pieces of it here in my blog. I will tell you now that I danced under the stars, spent hours naked in the sun and was shown just as much overwhelmingly painful grief as I was shown indescribable love.
I drove out to Julian last weekend, a small mountain in Southern California. I could not believe how fast the clouds were moving. I hoped that the clouds over my heart would move as quickly.
It was stormy when a friend and I drove through the same town in March when we were coming back from the vision quest. We stopped in Julian at the coffee shop there and ended up spending three hours talking and journaling as the storm outside ensued. It had been so daunting to return to the city. We had so much in our hearts and felt that the world was opening up to us. But at the same time, both of us were uncertain of how we would relate to other's in our lives, if they would be receptive to the changes that had occurred in us. Neither my friend nor I even knew where we would live in the coming days and months. I knew that I was different but I did not know how that would change the way I walked in this world. It’s no wonder I was scared. The reintegration has been far from easy for me especially since I have come off the road after weeks of traveling and landed in a new place, getting to know this new me. I have been tired and physically unwell but I am continually reminded to be gentle with my Self and to trust Mystery.
It is easy to recall the strength I felt during and coming off of the vision quest so I know that strength is still there and that I may find it just below the surface. As I buried my feet in the sand at the ocean the other day and let the waves crash against me, I felt strong again. Soon there will come a time when I can find that strength in my Self anywhere.
My new friends, fellow questers and guides, had been there to welcome me back from my time alone. I fell into their embrace and saw my Self reflected in their wild eyes. I did not care to share words with them that morning, did not know how, only hugs, tears, laughter and energy. After four miraculous days without food I hesitated to ingest anything, it seemed so foreign to me. As I read about it this morning I could still recall the taste of the avocado I was fed along with a root vegetable I can’t recall the name of, all sprinkled with lemon juice and salt. Nothing so simple ever tasted so good.
I have hardly vocalized to any human beings what happened those two weeks in the desert, particularly what took place on my solo. To do so would somehow do an injustice to the experience but you may begin to see bits and pieces of it here in my blog. I will tell you now that I danced under the stars, spent hours naked in the sun and was shown just as much overwhelmingly painful grief as I was shown indescribable love.
I drove out to Julian last weekend, a small mountain in Southern California. I could not believe how fast the clouds were moving. I hoped that the clouds over my heart would move as quickly.
It was stormy when a friend and I drove through the same town in March when we were coming back from the vision quest. We stopped in Julian at the coffee shop there and ended up spending three hours talking and journaling as the storm outside ensued. It had been so daunting to return to the city. We had so much in our hearts and felt that the world was opening up to us. But at the same time, both of us were uncertain of how we would relate to other's in our lives, if they would be receptive to the changes that had occurred in us. Neither my friend nor I even knew where we would live in the coming days and months. I knew that I was different but I did not know how that would change the way I walked in this world. It’s no wonder I was scared. The reintegration has been far from easy for me especially since I have come off the road after weeks of traveling and landed in a new place, getting to know this new me. I have been tired and physically unwell but I am continually reminded to be gentle with my Self and to trust Mystery.
It is easy to recall the strength I felt during and coming off of the vision quest so I know that strength is still there and that I may find it just below the surface. As I buried my feet in the sand at the ocean the other day and let the waves crash against me, I felt strong again. Soon there will come a time when I can find that strength in my Self anywhere.
Random Page in a Book
I love to open a book to a random page and see what it has to offer. I received some books today that I had ordered on Amazon and decided to implement this practice. The book is called The World is a Waiting Lover by Trebbe Johnson. It was so interesting because the subject matter of the particular paragraph I read was very much like a conversation my roomie and I were having the other day about acknowledging each other, strangers and acquaintances alike by making eye contact or even physical contact. We have been talking a lot about presentation of Self as well. Of course I also have a special affinity for this excerpt because it discusses the gray area between hetero and homosexuality and confesses an attraction to the Other regardless of gender.
The author is speaking of a time when she lived in New York City. She had been admiring the way certain women would flirt with men on the subway.....
"I realized that I, too, could join this harmless mating ritual. So I started allowing myself to exchange probing glances with men, including strangers, friends and casual acquaintances. I realized that, in such moments, the erotic potential - which could mount so quickly that both of us had to look away - was often accompanied by, or even superseded, by something else, a kind of curiosity or fascination. So I began trying out the look on women, too, although that was harder for both of us and could never be sustained as long. When the look endured, however, it was an exquisite thing. The rawness of a soul, fully concentrated in the outward-turning gaze, and meeting, just for an instant, another raw soul, revealed something both exotic and very intimate. The connection between these two ensouled gazes penetrated veils, so each could see the Beloved in the other. Then, in a naked instant of acceptance and desiring curiosity that people usually do not allow into their life, I saw my Beloved in them and their own Beloved shining forth around them."
The author is speaking of a time when she lived in New York City. She had been admiring the way certain women would flirt with men on the subway.....
"I realized that I, too, could join this harmless mating ritual. So I started allowing myself to exchange probing glances with men, including strangers, friends and casual acquaintances. I realized that, in such moments, the erotic potential - which could mount so quickly that both of us had to look away - was often accompanied by, or even superseded, by something else, a kind of curiosity or fascination. So I began trying out the look on women, too, although that was harder for both of us and could never be sustained as long. When the look endured, however, it was an exquisite thing. The rawness of a soul, fully concentrated in the outward-turning gaze, and meeting, just for an instant, another raw soul, revealed something both exotic and very intimate. The connection between these two ensouled gazes penetrated veils, so each could see the Beloved in the other. Then, in a naked instant of acceptance and desiring curiosity that people usually do not allow into their life, I saw my Beloved in them and their own Beloved shining forth around them."
Monday, April 25, 2011
Disconnected
I went to a festival the other day that was meant to be in celebration of the Earth. The festival was full of people and portable johns and movie nachos and not very good bands and booths supposedly selling things that represented different parts of the world. Most of the crap was made in China. There were some decent parts: African dancers and a Latino band that was interesting but still it was no way that I would have thought to celebrate the Earth. I would rather be held by her on the desert floor, let her hear my cries when no one else is around to listen, climb gracefully up her beautiful rocks or watch the waves lap against her shores.
I had to park two miles away from the festival which was fine, I don't mind walking. But as I was following the herd of people towards the event I experienced a feeling that is not uncommon when I am in an overcrowded place: disconnected. And all of these people seemed disconnected from each other. It's no wonder that as a society we focus on searching for that special other to connect with romantically. No wonder we are procreating, are we seeking unconditional love in our children? No wonder we want to dress like each other or connect with a character in a television show. Can't we love each Other without romance or the same DNA or real people without a screen between us. Not that I myself don't long for a partner at times, it's possible that I'll have a child someday and I do cry every time I watch Grey's Anatomy.
I let myself get carried away with these thoughts at the fair but later as I was leaving, I pull it back and remember. I listened to an amazing group of Brazilian percussionists playing the drums int the park on and girls dancing and we were all connecting through music. I was reminded that if I pay attention, the connections are there. It's there when I receive a huge hug from a musician because the band played, I danced and we connected. It's there when a dear friend of mind finds a ring on the beach miles and miles from here that makes her think of me and we are connected. There is a connection with the owl feather that I carry with me and the owl that I saw in Anza Borrego. If I pay attention, I can think of ten instances in the past week of connecting with Others, human or otherwise. I was sailing and spontaneously thought of a friend of mine, not finding out until later that he has a special connection with sailing. We are all mirrors of each other. We are the same. We are one.
On another note, I feel incredibly shy about posting these thoughts and question the validity of the blog. But admittedly, I am questioning a lot of things these last few days. I am not sure how to share this blog, what to share and with whom. I do know it feels good to write and to connect.
I had to park two miles away from the festival which was fine, I don't mind walking. But as I was following the herd of people towards the event I experienced a feeling that is not uncommon when I am in an overcrowded place: disconnected. And all of these people seemed disconnected from each other. It's no wonder that as a society we focus on searching for that special other to connect with romantically. No wonder we are procreating, are we seeking unconditional love in our children? No wonder we want to dress like each other or connect with a character in a television show. Can't we love each Other without romance or the same DNA or real people without a screen between us. Not that I myself don't long for a partner at times, it's possible that I'll have a child someday and I do cry every time I watch Grey's Anatomy.
I let myself get carried away with these thoughts at the fair but later as I was leaving, I pull it back and remember. I listened to an amazing group of Brazilian percussionists playing the drums int the park on and girls dancing and we were all connecting through music. I was reminded that if I pay attention, the connections are there. It's there when I receive a huge hug from a musician because the band played, I danced and we connected. It's there when a dear friend of mind finds a ring on the beach miles and miles from here that makes her think of me and we are connected. There is a connection with the owl feather that I carry with me and the owl that I saw in Anza Borrego. If I pay attention, I can think of ten instances in the past week of connecting with Others, human or otherwise. I was sailing and spontaneously thought of a friend of mine, not finding out until later that he has a special connection with sailing. We are all mirrors of each other. We are the same. We are one.
On another note, I feel incredibly shy about posting these thoughts and question the validity of the blog. But admittedly, I am questioning a lot of things these last few days. I am not sure how to share this blog, what to share and with whom. I do know it feels good to write and to connect.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
The Guest House
I've dedicated myself to feel and to live my Truths. The truth is that I cannot feel content all of the time. No one can. The truth is, I woke up this afternoon, after sleeping for twelve hours, and I felt sad. No, sad doesn't really cover it. I felt overwhelmed with grief, near hysteria. And I'm proud of myself because instead of burying these feelings or attempting to distract myself from them I lived the grief and the sorrow and I fucking cried. I cried inside and outside and I cried as I walked to the coffee shop and I cried as I flipped through The Essential Rumi. Of course the poem I opened up to was The Guest House:
This being human is a guest house,
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of it's furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
-Rumi
So I invited the sorrow in even though I didn't really want it here. I welcomed it, I entertained it but I also wanted to know why. What do you want from me? I asked. I didn't like the answer I got....rest. "That's ridiculous," I told a friend. "What good does that do? I'm not doing enough! Rest, hah!" I like to argue with the answers I get. But if I'm not willing to listen why ask? So I will take some time and I'll rest. I'll reintegrate and get my footing in this place and in this time space. I'll pull back the reins on my soul work for a minute because my Self cried out for rest. I'm grateful that I was able to pay attention even if it took a few hours to really listen.
This being human is a guest house,
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of it's furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
-Rumi
So I invited the sorrow in even though I didn't really want it here. I welcomed it, I entertained it but I also wanted to know why. What do you want from me? I asked. I didn't like the answer I got....rest. "That's ridiculous," I told a friend. "What good does that do? I'm not doing enough! Rest, hah!" I like to argue with the answers I get. But if I'm not willing to listen why ask? So I will take some time and I'll rest. I'll reintegrate and get my footing in this place and in this time space. I'll pull back the reins on my soul work for a minute because my Self cried out for rest. I'm grateful that I was able to pay attention even if it took a few hours to really listen.
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