What a difference a year makes

heaven

It’s kind of a personal story…one that is better told through smiles, gestures…tears.  Sitting with a cup of tea and a comfy cushion, a nice blanket to wrap up in, a sheepskin to lie down on…perhaps a few candles burning.  I would tell you this story on a perfect night like this, the wind whooshing through the cottonwood leaves, a dark sky threatening rain, contrasting with the early summer green.  Birds singing their twilight song.

On a cold afternoon on one of the first days of 2012, I lay in my bed daydreaming on the New Moon…making prayers for the new year.  Thinking about what I wanted to call in, to invite, to embrace for the year ahead.  I asked to open my mind to new thought, to higher consciousness, expansion.  I wanted to open my heart to larger love; ways of living, loving, thinking and acting that have been out of reach, beyond my abilities.  I wrote in my journal:  “I know I have called in something bigger than me – I have asked to be opened up and filled.”

Later that year I loved a man in the most intimate way.  It’s hard to describe accurately or to do it justice.  My friend’s husband was dying of a brain tumor.  She asked me to come over and give him Reiki.  I went over to their house and loved him.   That’s what I did.  I loved him the way a mother loves her child – unconditionally and purely.  I let cosmic love pour through me and into him.  I got out of the way.  I was a channel.  I felt filled with love.  I think he did too.  I know he did.  We shared a few intimate hours together over his last few weeks.  On the day he died, I held his hand while he transitioned from consciousness to coma.  I held his feet and felt his spirit take flight – a hawk soaring fast and free.  I lay with him hours after he had passed and stroked his forehead.  Alison and I spent the cool hours of the dark early morning with him – this unseasonably hot June, the June that would bring fire upon fire to our mountains.  We dozed on the bed with him, burned sage, laughed and cried together.  I wrote in my journal how humbled and grateful I was to spend those days with him.  I also wrote that I thought I had found my dharma and how grateful I was to Nancy and Lance for letting me in to their lives so I could share what was longing to be expressed in me – my desire to be of service and for my life to have deeper meaning and purpose.

footsteps

A few days ago, I got a call from my hospice supervisor letting me know a woman was transitioning.  They were asking for volunteers to take turns sitting with her during the day while her family members were at work.  It had been a few months since there had been an opportunity to sit vigil and I jumped at the chance.  First shift.  I’m there.  I have sat with 4 people since Lance died last year.  First I had to go through general training, then a special training to sit vigil.  When my supervisor told me of this new person, she mentioned that this woman was conscious.  This was new.  Something to ponder.  It’s one thing to sit with a stranger that’s dying and they’re unconscious.  But to walk into the room of somebody I’ve never met before, while they’re going through one of the most intimate (if not the most intimate) acts of their life and sit with them…well, this got me nervous.  I prayed as I drove.  I prayed to be of service, to connect with my heart, to just BE.

It’s hard to explain, again, words can’t do this justice.  From the minute I walked into this woman’s room and she locked her blue-gray eyes on me, there was not one second that felt awkward or wrong.  I held her hand.  She didn’t speak but her eyes saw my every move.  I introduced myself and told her I was going to sit with her.  I honored the work she was doing – as she seemed to be laboring – and her body’s wisdom to know when it was time to let go.   I told her she wasn’t alone.   I never know what I will be moved to say or do with any particular person.  It’s different every time.  Sometimes I sit in silent meditation.  We must have “gazed” for over an hour.  It was intimacy on a soul-level.

When I returned the next day for the first shift, I was told that she had just passed.  I went in to see her body and touch her forehead.  As I sat and waited for her family to arrive, I cried.  At first, I was critical of myself…”Stop being so dramatic!  You didn’t even know this woman.  Why are you crying?”  After those thoughts passed, I decided to allow my heart to expand and just feel everything that was surfacing:  the ending of this woman’s life, the shell of her body in front of me, the softness of her gaze from yesterday, the imminent arrival of her loved ones.  The LOVE my own heart could feel for this woman, for the people that cared for her, for the patients in the facility, and for my family.

Today I looked back through my journal and discovered that the day I sat vigil with this woman,  was a year to the day that I first sat with Lance.  If grief is a sprial, then love is concentric circles…rippling out to infinity.  I am truly grateful for this life and for the meaning that I am privileged to have fill my days and the people I am honored to serve.

End of an Era

Oh boy,  this week is going to be tough.  It’s taking me by surprise…Andy’s not surprised though.  He called it when Lili went to Kindergarten 9 years ago (!)

Lili's first day of school
Lili’s first day of school

I was complaining about how institutionalized the school seemed and how it was nothing like our awesome, Buddhist inspired preschool Alaya.   Andy said that I would become just as active in this school as I had been at Alaya, that I would make friends, and that I would be boo-hooing when my time at Crest View was over.  (A time which felt about one million years away, by the way.)  I vehemently denied all of his predictions.

Fast forward to now.  Lili is “graduating” from 8th grade and Baby Boy is completing 5th grade, and the time has come…one million years have passed, and it is the end of an era.  For almost a decade I have been walking, biking and driving to Crest View. I have volunteered.  I have fund-raised.  I have combed hair for picture day.   I’ve been a room mom.  I’ve stuffed Friday Folders.  I have made good friends.  And last week, when I rode my bike over to Crest View before school to put a ‘thank you’ card in the office for Harlan’s teacher, and the principal was cranking Pink Floyd (who knew?) and the office ladies smiled at me and Lili’s kindergarten teacher from 9 years ago waved to me, I realized I was the world’s biggest liar.  I am a wreck!  I’m not ready for this!

Harlan's first day of Kindergarten (with his best buddy Cade.)
Harlan’s first day of Kindergarten (with his best buddy Cade.)

I already know when I’m sitting at the 8th Grade Award Ceremony (that’s right, she’s getting an award) I will be making that awkward half smile face that signals to my kids that “Mom is trying not to cry but it’s not working because oh Geez, now she’s making these tortured half laugh/half cry sounds…look away and pretend you are not related because now she’s full on crying.”  What can I say?  I’m a cryer.

Then on Thursday, I will bike over to Lili’s 8th grade graduation and see a lot of kids that I’ve watched grow up since kindergarten walking across the stage looking like young men and women.  I will remember the Halloween parties and the play dates and the class field trips when they were so much smaller.  And I will cry.  And I will be proud of the young lady that Lili has become, even if she is ignoring me because I am crying.

bigWee
ready to fly

After the graduation, I will head directly over to Crest View for my final ever class party (how could this possibly be?) For 9 years I’ve been doing this.  I’ll scoop ice cream and congratulate kiddos.  Some of the other parents are in my shoes, this is their final year at this neighborhood school, and I’m guessing there will be tears…

growing up
growing up

I know the only constant is change. I also know that my kids are each ready for their new, bigger frontiers;  I trust them and their journeys.  Right now, I’m just saying goodbye to an era that I remember fondly and won’t happen again.  There is something poignant and beautiful in being present to a moment you know is impermanent…a stage in life you will never get to do over.  I loved living so close to school and being welcomed into the classroom, even if it was just to say ‘hello’ and give a hug.  I loved that the teachers knew my kids and kept a close eye out for them.  I loved being a mom to an elementary school kid.  I already know that Middle School is the dark void re. parental involvement.  I’m sure High School is even more so.  I am feeling this milestone with a mixture of heavy heart and gratitude for getting this far.  Grateful for the teachers and families that have been part of the ride.  Thank you.

Grief Spiral

dandy

Grief isn’t linear.  It’s not a straight shot.  You don’t pass through locks in a canal, never to go back, chugging along to what…?  Before?  No.  A land where there is no pain?  No.

I love the metaphor that grief is a spiral, where I circle around, sometimes close to the epicenter (deep pain) and sometimes a bit farther out (awareness of the loss) and sometimes on the outskirts of the spiral (where I can smile at the memories and celebrate the gifts from knowing that person.)  No matter how long it’s been since the death of a loved one, I can be anywhere on the spiral – although I can truthfully say once I’ve experienced the acute phase of a loss, I’ve never gone back to that excruciating grief that feels like it could swallow me up and seems unsurvivable when it’s happening.  I hope that gives people some hope to read that.

Sometimes…I can be grieving and not even realize it.  Recently, life has been feeling so tender and almost unbearable to me.  Spring is late here in Boulder and with Spring comes baby animals.  We’ve got a Mama Raccoon in our attic, right over my bedroom, and her babies make scritchy scratchy sounds and chirp all night long.  I am sleeping in another room because they are so loud!  They sound like they are in the room with us!  Andy is calling them his roomates.  I don’t ordinarily like raccoons, but I am very distressed about these babies.  What to do?  I want them to be relocated, and not euthanized.  But I’m worried they are too young to be moved.  I can barely stand the thought that they will be moved outside… and then what?

Yesterday, we noticed a very small, brand new, baby squirrel up in our tree.  The mama was trying to show it how to scramble through the branches.  Then we noticed a very fat, buff tiger cat (ours) up in the tree, getting ready to pounce on the baby squirrel!  Oh no!  Andy ran out and sprayed the hose on our cat.  This barely distracted her.  Note that it was pouring rain yesterday too.  I was paralyzed with fear that Baby (our horrible cat) was going to kill the squirrel baby, the squirrel baby that isn’t even strong enough, or old enough, to scamper away.  The cat finally came in looking like a drowned rat and she has been locked up under protest all day today.  I’m praying that baby squirrel has enough evolutionary smarts to grow – fast!

As I was unloading my animal woes (my fear of impending death to small, helpless creatures, and my participation on some level with their possible impending deaths) on a friend today, she wondered what is going on for me about death.  “Well” I answered innocently, “a year ago is the time I started working with Lance.”  Hmmm.  As I said it, I realized that is what’s been living in me without me being consciously aware of it.  Two days ago was the 11 month anniversary of Lance‘s death.

Last May, I started giving Lance reiki and spending more time with him.  It was a powerful, life changing month.  It was an  intimate experience that touched me.  I will probably write more about this time, but for now the words escape me.  I am just aware that I am more sensitive than usual and it’s a reminder to go back to the basics of self care; something we teach in the Newly Bereaved groups at hospice.  Drink more water.  Rest.  Get out in nature. Share with close friends – people who will listen and let me be right where I’m at.  Most of all, thanks to my wise friend Sally, I want to BE present with all that I am feeling right now.  I want to witness the sorrow and the tenderness and allow any and all emotions to wash over me.  I might feel things this year that I was too in shock to feel last year.  I can notice the gifts that have come to me in the past year, since knowing Lance, and give thanks for them and for his life.  Gratitude.  And, I’m going to try and help these little animal babies stay alive if I can…

True Confessions – Part 2

Vunerability and Truth…two of the most potent spaces to be in – combined anything is possible.  It was in this spirit that my relationship with Nancy West McGuire was started.  On this day, at this cafe, it was the right time for us to connect.  Do you have any friends like that?  Where you know each other peripherally, or see each other around, but for some reason you finally connect and you wonder “Why did this take so long?”  Ahhh the mystery of life.  I love it.

One of my absolute joys in life, and a reason I believe I’m here in human form, is to deeply connect with other human beings – on a heart level.  Sitting down with a “stranger” and finding common ground with each other energizes me and makes me glad to be alive.  It fills me up on a soul level.  And guess what?  Nancy loves that too!  The more we shared, the more excited we got to recognize a kindred spirit in each other.  We both had been event planners in past lives, we had gone to high school within 7 miles of each other, for decades each of one us has been drawn to different trainings and teachings to improve ourselves.  We each have a reverence and curiosity for death and dying.  It was a such a treat to meet and spend hours (!) talking and enjoying myself.  The items to be discussed kept growing and tumbling out, it felt as natural and comfortable as seeing a friend after many years – a sister…a best friend from childhood…where had she been all my life?

The cherry on top of the sundae was that Nancy was passionate about India.  Not only had she traveled there solo and lived there, but she was familiar with the one city that has been calling to me – Varanasi.  The one city on the “Journey to India” itinerary that I haven’t been to, yet feel called to see.  Nancy told me story after story about her days in Varanasi, about impromptu dance parties with women in the slums, about chartering a boat to take families down the Ganges to a park for an afternoon of play, of paying for children to go to the dentist for the first time and have their teeth cleaned and filled.  To hear Nancy speak of Varanasi, is to see her come alive.  She’s a strong woman with a large heart and she exudes confidence, competence and gregariousness.  But the nectar is to watch Nancy soften when she speaks of Varanasi and the people there.  She looks like a young girl, delighted with life, and sweet with vulnerability and truth.  See for yourself:

True Confessions – Part 1

Every day I make a ‘to do’ list and I write: “blog post about India.”

'to do' lists
‘to do’ lists

I usually get everything done on my list, except the blog post.  Why?  Well…I have a secret to share.  I am sharing this with the hope that it will help others and set me free at the same time.

When I first decided that I wanted to plan a trip to India, a part of me felt that I needed a “draw” – like, I needed a big name or talent to get people to sign up.  I knew I could handle the details and organize the trip, but I didn’t think that I could get people to sign up just because I was leading it.  So I set out to get a well known teacher to co-lead with me.  Only problem was, for different reasons, the teachers weren’t able to do the trip.  This was not working out how I planned.  I kept giving God a squinty-eyed look that said “I am not doing this trip myself God!”  I didn’t want to.  But here’s the dirty little secret…it wasn’t because I didn’t think I could do it – that wasn’t the scary part for me at all – it was because…because…if I couldn’t get enough people to sign up for the trip, and had to cancel, then I would be a FAILURE.  And not only that, but I would fail PUBLICLY.  Everyone would know that I failed.

I wrestled with this for awhile.  I suffered.  During a BARS energy work session with Kate Spear’s gentle questioning, I started to unravel my beliefs around the trip.  What would it take for me to put both feet in regarding the trip?  What would it look like if I partnered with God?  What would it feel like if I let India be the “draw”?  What if I planned a beautiful trip and trusted that the participants would have their own experiences?  I could feel my chest expanding with each question Kate asked.  The true freedom of letting go of any attachment to the outcome…the relief of stepping back and trusting that India, and India alone, would be the bell calling out to each soul.  Partnering with God filled me with trust.  I felt humble and unafraid.  I was committed, both feet in, to follow this journey towards India and see where it would lead me.  There was no failure in trying, only learning.  I made a commitment to move forward.

The very next day, Nancy West McGuire sent me a freind request on Facebook.  I knew her peripherally but I had always been too shy insecure to reach out.  I accepted her freind request and shared my secret that I had always wanted to be her friend but had been holding back.  She responded instantly and warmly, saying “Hello new friend!  Life is too short to be shy!”  and we set up a date to meet and have tea.  Two days later, we met at one of my favorite cafes in Boulder and talked for hours – discovering many common themes, one of which was a shared passion for India.

In Part 2  I’ll write about how a Facebook request, and a truth shared with vulnerability from the heart led me to be co-leading a trip to India with Nancy.  See you tomorrow!

Escape to Reality

“Be melting snow.
Wash yourself of yourself.”
— Rumi

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Sometimes when a dream dies, it can feel like a death. A death of the self – an idea, a belief, or an identity…or all of the above.

Our family has had a series of big hits lately. To protect everyone’s privacy I won’t go into details, but I can share that there were a lot of surprises – the kind that make your mouth make a silent ‘o’ as you stop to catch your breath. The kind that make you wonder if you ever really knew a person like you thought you did. The kind that make you take a step back and wonder who you are. Heavy stuff.

Miraculously, Andy and I happened to have a trip to Mexico scheduled in April. One week in paradise at an all-inclusive. Nothing to do but lie in the sun, float in the bath water Caribbean, eat a ridiculous amount of food, make love, and share our broken and gentle hearts with each other.

When we arrived last Sunday, we brought only the hope that time would restore us. Neither of us are strangers to reinvention and we both know from experience that when one door closes, another opens. But this time, I will admit we were going on blind faith.

The lunar eclipse this week signified the end of an old way and new beginnings. On the day of the eclipse, Andy and I sat on the beach and took stock of our life – the cast of characters, our finances, our work goals for the year, our deepest desires.

I love this man for his ability to look at the big picture and stay in the field of possibilities with me. What emerged was a beautiful plan (I love a plan) that is based on reality – not fantasy – and it is quite amazing and enlivening. I won’t spoil it by detailing it, but let’s just say it involves a lot of travel and more beaches…feeding the soul while still actively parenting two teenagers and an 11 year old. Of course, more hospice work as well. Appreciating what IS vs. what we wish could be.

Thank you to the ocean for restoring me. Thank you to my sweet friends for loving me. Thank you to my children for grounding me. Thank you to my husband for your truth and vulnerability. Thank you life for all your gifts. I’m committed to staying present to all of it.

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Rinka’s Gift

Rinka….The Flower Girl

by Nancy West McGuire

Varanasi, India

February 2008

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It was a birth…that night…lit by the moon…

I had been called here to the banks of the Ganges to be born…some 30 years ago…to a place I had only dreamed of….

Pulsating…energy…excitement….every cell alive…anticipation…joy….alive…and waiting to see…to breathe…on my own…out of the darkness and into the light…..down the narrow canal…that felt like I would never arrive….pushing forward…faster…faster…faster….like the beating of the drums all around me….the thrusting of the hips came faster…quicker…the sound reverberating off the walls that were wrapped around me…pushing, pushing, pushing further and further with only faith and trust to guide me….Rapture…

Smells…people…lights…prayer…joy…sadness…eyes wide open…loud….alive…holy…I had finally arrived…

Overwhelmed…I wept…crying as I was released…from the safety of the womb…into the energy that was electric and alive…and all I could do was cry…as I breathed for the first time…took in all that was there…before my eyes…the color…the air of excitement…the River….

Get on the boat…get on the boat….Confused…I was swept onto the boat…that would take me to a place of perspective…birth and death and rebirth…side by side…naturally…no pretense…raw….

“You must have a flower” she said….”You must”…..as she followed me on to the boat…seemingly, carefully, choosing just the right flower for me…

I got on the boat…and I wept…inconsolably wept…

As I wept…the little girl with the soulful eyes patted the seat next to her on the boat…lit by the full moon…against a backdrop of color, sound, birth, death, spirits rising….as if to say “Come here…rest…sit a spell”….and so I moved to her side…feeling comforted just in her presence….

“Why you crying?”  said the little girl with the big basket of flowers.

“I am crying because I have dreamt of being here…right here for 30 years”  I replied….

The flower girl looked as if she didn’t understand….

I went on….”A dream….I’ve had this dream…for 30 years…and now I’m here…and I can’t believe it…it’s like a really, really big wish.  Have you ever had a dream?” I asked.

“I dream of being a flower girl…here…selling you flowers”

said she with beauty and depth and certainty…

as if she had sat there…

waiting for me…

knowing that I would come…

for 30 years….

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February 2012

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Nancy and Rinka, age 17…married…lives under an umbrella at the Main Ghat…

Join Nancy and me on our Journey to India this October, where we will explore some of the most exciting, potent and spiritual places in India.  Together, we will venture into a world that most Westerners have not seen and meet people that will surely touch your hearts.

This Aint No Dress Rehearsal!

Pure Joy
Pure Joy

This picture makes me happy – I’ve got my sparkly, Free People dress on.  My favorite color is turquoise and my scarf makes me look like I’m flying, and it’s 4th of July (one of my most favorite days*)  and I’m at the beach!

In Santa Cruz!

So I don’t usually use the word ‘aint’ but it just fits.  I was looking through my journal from the past year.  I am noticing that my journal is a much better resource than it used to be.  I am more discerning about what I write.  I write down my dreams and prayers more than the daily minutiae.  It’s satisfying when I see progress (forward movement) on some of my desires.  For example, last year, I hadn’t completed any hospice training and this year, I volunteer for two local hospice organizations.

In a journal entry from last February, 2012, I wrote:  “At Lili’s School of Rock show there was a little girl who was singing the lead in one of the songs.  She seemed wooden and stone faced.  The little girl in me was dying to grab her mic and belt it out.  I wanted to be the rock star!  All my life!  And I heard a voice in my head saying “This isn’t a dress rehearsal.”  And I got it.  I want to LIVE as if THIS is my LIFE and I’m the STAR and we’re rolling film right NOW!  What would look different?”

Ok, it’s a little embarrassing to share my journal, and yes, I did write all of that and use CAPS for emphasis and all those exclamation points!!!  And I do want to qualify that I don’t really want to be a rock star, I just want to star in my own life.  I want to show up and live each day like it’s not a dress rehearsal.  I know that could sound corny…but here’s the thing…

When you are around people who are dying, especially young people in their 40’s who have lovers and young children, and exciting career possibilities, you start to think about life and the impermanence of it.  The preciousness of it.  When Lance died, one of the messages I got was that I never, ever wanted the people in my life to wonder if I loved them.  I wanted to live each day loving my people and letting them know it.  I also want to celebrate life and hold the knowledge that it doesn’t last forever.  I asked myself in my journal “What would look different?” which is a really juicy question to ask oneself.  What would look different?  The things I can think of right now are I would live by the ocean, I would have a BLUE BUS all tricked out to explore the Golden State of California, I would swim with dolphins more, I would travel in a gypsy caravan of women and children all over the world, dancing, singing, drumming, praying, laughing, loving.  What about you?

My Blue Bus...the Blue Pearl
My Blue Bus…the Blue Pearl

*I always spent it with my grandparents in Narrangansett, Rhode Island, at the beach, with no alcoholic parents to mess it up.

Build It and They Will Come

So a couple months ago, I called Kirsten Boyer to see if she would be open to taking a photo of me for a flyer to use on the India trip.  I’d seen her work and thought she does lovely things with light and I was thinking possibly she could take a nice, professional head shot of me.  As we were brainstorming on the phone, Kirsten asked me if I had any interest in making a short informational video for my website – something for people to watch and get a better feel of who I am.   “Oh…like a virtual business card?” I asked.  “Yes!” Kirsten exclaimed.  “Sure, why not?” I answered.  And that’s how a phone call with Kirsten about a head shot for a flyer becomes an entire website with 5 (five!) videos and some of the best pictures I’ve ever seen of myself.

I’ve been wondering what is going to come of this…why a website?  Why now?  The noticing part of me is watching…observing…curious to see what will evolve.  Kirsten was my midwife.  She might be uncomfortable with that title, but I’ve thanked her all along for inching me along, seeing a bigger picture (no pun intended.)

Working with Kirsten is a special experience.  She has an amazing eye – she can take a cloudy day, a clump of weeds and a self-conscious model and get this:

One of the best parts of working together was getting to hang out with Kirsten.  I miss her now that the project is done.  I’m busy cooking up new ideas so we can hang out. Maybe I can carry her camera equipment 🙂

Don’t be fooled by her gentle demeanor.  It’s a tribute to Kirsten’s personality that she is as approachable and mellow as she is, but she knows what she is looking for in a picture and she’ll direct you.  Your best bet is to enjoy the ride and trust her eye.   It was creatively inspiring as well as heart opening to work together.  She modestly claims that we “co-created” this project.  Not so sure that’s how I would describe the long hours we spent with me blanking out in front of the camera and her coaching me to talk about why I’m so great. (aargh)  There were definitely edgy parts for me about being the subject matter of all of this – a website about Me, starring Me, all about Me!  Kirsten was just the right mix of support and heckler; reflecting my gifts and believing in them, and also helping me laugh at myself.

Kirsten put many hours into this project and I think the videos are amazing.  When I die, you can play them at my memorial as a tribute – they’re that good!  When I watch the “Spirit” one, I always cry and I have to remember that I’m still alive.

I really do feel like Kirsten saw a better ‘me’ – and captured it on film.  The Me that I want to be – that I’m striving to be.  She raised the bar and I want to be that person that I see in her photos.  I’m becoming…evolving…into a brighter self.  I am forever grateful that she was part of this unveiling in me.  It feels alchemical.

I wish I could gift everyone I know with a session with Kirsten.  She’ll take photos that will make you feel beautiful, she will put you at ease and you will get to banter with a fine, saucy wit.  I hope there are things in her life that make her feel as beautiful and radiant as she is.

Today, in The Morning Blessings, I read:  Life here is precious, for we are love and light evolving as beauty and joy each and every moment. Today you can begin to feel this divine Selfhood by being who you really are. Each time you look into the mirror, go beyond your personality and see the divinity that is within. Make it a point to see yourself as Spirit in all you think, say and do.

I feel divine

Change, Loss and Radical Forgiveness

First day of Spring today and even though I am looking out on a brown landscape and the air is chill, I can feel the pulse within.  My pale dry skin that covers me isn’t matching my steamy, pressure-cooker insides.  I want something (anything) to happen – NOW!  I see my teenagers’ (yes, plural) restless angst, dying for 8th grade to be OVER already, mirroring my own.  I wish it were summer…wish I were in a car driving West…or in a gyspy caravan on my way to Mother India.  Anywhere but here.  Blah.

Because ‘here’ is feeling a little uncomfortable to tell the truth.  We’ve got one girl wanting to spend more time at our house and one wanting to spend more time at her other parent’s house.  Both girls want to be with their mamas.  There’s something that feels natural and right about this but that doens’t mean there aren’t pangs for everyone – especially the dads.  The girls are growing up.  It happens.  Right before our eyes, these babies we have clothed and fed and loved and band-aided have grown into young women whose needs are communicated more through subtle smoke signals and hormonal energy fields than through direct contact.  These days  I keep a wary eye on my porcupine and wait for invitations to come closer – grateful when they happen.  Yes, I’m mourning the loss of my little girl.  But to be truthful, she’s had one hand on the door knob her whole life.  Guess who that reminds me of?  I’m crazy about that kid.  I know that the next 4 years are going to go by in a blur, I miss her already.

Baby Gilrl on the Go
Baby Gilrl on the Go

A random purchase has turned into a profound learning opportunity for me.  On a whim, I bought “Radical Forgiveness” by Colin Tipping.  The title grabbed me and I was curious. Basically the theory is that each interaction we have with others is created on a soul level for our growth.  Situations that we may experience as hurtful or painful are actually gifts and we can have gratitude for the people that stir this up in us beceause, on a soul level, they have agreed to come in and give us that leg up on the evolutionary ladder.  For example, if I have a belief (fear/story) that people abandon me, then I am going to attract relationships in to my life where people leave me, because on a soul level I am wanting (needing) to heal that wound.   If I can forgive the person that “abandons” me and understand that this is an opportunity for me to heal, the theory is that I won’t attract that in my life anymore, because I have healed that wound or story.  And not just forgive the person either, I need to love that person and be grateful that their soul is willing to show up for me.  Radical, right?

There are some people that it’s easy for me to apply this principle to and there are others that are harder for me, but I’m noticing that and playing with it.  I love the concept and I think it only works if I’m willing to apply it to ALL relationships.  It’s juicy material for sure.