Life as Art

I have missed writing more in the last two weeks than since I started writing, including yesterday, and just before I went to sleep last night, I thought about writing just to capture some words on the page. Then, I told myself not to do it. There's no point in writing a paragraph that says virtually nothing just out of obligation. But obligation aside, I have committed to writing this blog pretty much daily, and today I am renewing that committment.

It's been a full week already. Yesterday Alan moved most of his stuff into the house, and today he finished. In preparation for the move, I also spent a lot of time cleaning the carpets, as well as going through all of my stuff. There is so much crap that I have accumulated in this house over these almost eight years! And it's so good to go through and downsize. Just today I freecycled a pair of hiking boots, as well as the frame to a futon that had been given to me. If I only can keep this stamina for a while, I can hopefully get rid of lots more crap that I don't need anymore.

As I type, Friday has crawled onto my left knee, and is happily purring away, licking my fingers and the back of my hand. What a beautiful kitty! Yesterday, as I steamed the carpets, I made sure he was far away from the noise. I let him out onto the porch, and he spent some time nestled under a table that is covered in a bright Bolivian tablecloth...under the table is a box filled with dry spearmint leaves. He love to crawl in there and munch on the minty leaves and just hang out. He spent a lot of time there yesterday, but when I went to go check on him and take a break, he wasn't there! To my surprise, he had snuggled up into one of the porch chairs, and was curled up on a cushion. He picked the chair with the most sunshine, and was super adorable. I got my camera and took probably forty photos - I particularly loved the angle of the bright sunlight as it defined his white little whiskers, and the texture of his fur. Too cute!!

Today, too, as I began to make more order from the mess that has been my home this last week, I thought about life as art. About how I choose to live in my space. Now this isn't the realm of deep philosophical or metaphysical stuff...that is the stuff of my inner life, for sure. But in my home, I choose to live artfully. Not fancy, not expensive, not terribly particularly. But in ways that express the color of my soul. I love this! I am not choosing to follow any fashion trend, nor any fancy, exclusive interior design style. I'm not going for any "look" or anything. But what I have managed to create in my space is some kind of bohemian whimsical art. The art of living, indeed. I love the thought that all arenas of my life can be expressed and experienced as the art of living. My spiritual life, my work life, my home life, my relationships. All are art! And I have had these wild and fun visions of painting murals on the doors of each room. Since I'm not a gifted or experienced painter of representational art, it's guaranteed to be somewhat childlike if it's not a mess. But I'm okay with that. I've already had a blast in my previous forays into painting the walls - from the wavy divisions between contrasting colors, to the sun on the wall of the living room (sadly covered by a bookshelf now), to the massive tree painted in the hallway. What's next, that's the question...

Moving On

Aaaahhh. The last night in my house as a single inhabitant. Tomorrow Alan moves in, and I begin the journey of living with a roommate. It seems like exactly what needs to be happening in my life right now.

Alan is an ideal roommate, I think. We know each other pretty well, but aren't best friends. Less likely to drive each other crazy, I think. Also, we have been communicating very well as this whole process has come about. I hope that will continue, so that we can both live happily in this small-ish space. Also, best of all, Alan loves Friday kitty like no other. Other than me, of course. Honestly, though, if I were to die, I would want Alan to take Friday - it is a perfect match. And having a scenario where Friday kitty gets even MORE love than he does now is really great!

The poor little guy is probably very confused right now. He spent the evening under my bed as I steam cleaned the carpets. The only thing worse than the noise of a vacuum cleaner is a steam cleaner! And Friday HATES the vacuum. I hate it that he has been hiding like that, but he's surely in the quietest, safest place for him while all that noise is going on. What will he do tomorrow when I steam the carpets in that room, I wonder? For now, he has come out of hiding, and is wandering around the house, rubbing his soft body against the endless stacks of stuff. How's that for making friends with chaos? Oh, my little Buddha cat, teaching me yet another piece of transcendental wisdom. =)

I'm told that tonight there will be a major meteor shower, and I wish I had the stamina to stay up and stare at the sky. But it's getting cold out, and I got up at 6am to go to DC by 9am, and then taught flute lessons, and then spent the whole evening cleaning my carpets. I'm pretty much beat about now. Maybe I will go crawl up on the roof for a little while and commune with the sky and some sacred tobacco.

It hit me tonight as I was sitting on the toilet that I am getting used to living without Familiar kitty in my life. And I spoke those words to him, as if he were with me. I kind of feel his presence there with me in the bathroom where he died sometimes, and it doesn't freak me out as much as it did a few weeks ago. I miss him still, and I feel like my life will never go back to the way it was before. But I am starting to feel that my life is going on in spite of the sorrow. And of course it does, of course it must. Sometimes I think that that is the hardest part...knowing that life does go on in spite of the pain and suffering of loss. It almost feels like it shouldn't - it's not fair to go on living without the ones I love! But I also can acknowledge that thinking like that just brings more suffering. All I can do is breathe into the pain and watch as my own life lives itself beyond that dark shadow that death has cast upon my heart.

Suffering

I'm sitting here in my bed, right next to Friday, who has claimed one flannel-covered pillow for his own. He's purring and not purring, off and on, and looking up toward the ceiling. Something is in the attic, skittering around. Sounds like a squirrel, too big for a mouse. Right around the time that Familiar kitty was passing, I heard squirrels in the attic - or on the roof, not sure which - all the time. I haven't heard any for a few weeks, though, not until the last couple days. Friday looks so puzzled, his eyes following the skittering beyond the ceiling. I wonder how they get in there!

In the midst of the darkest week I've had in a long time, I did manage to get to yoga class...not one, not two, but three. In spite of the anger and frustration and sadness that have been the most prevalent emotions this week, there is some little voice within me that says, "hey, this used to really be good - do it now!" I'm going to trust that, and also have no expectations.

Yesterday, one of my dismal posts on Facebook asked what people thought life was about. One man replied that life is about learning through suffering. His words hit home right away. I seem to recall that his kitty passed the day before Familiar kitty - so he is surely going through some of the same feelings I have. Learning through suffering. I've sure been feeling the suffering part, but I have wondered all day what it is that I'm learning here...or resisting learning...

One thing that I am clearly resisting learning is that fingers are for loving kitties...not typing! Friday has relocated to my right knee, pushing my keyboard off to the left, and keeps insisting his head under my typing fingers, clearly showing me what really matters. Bless this being. Bless him. He is the best teacher I've got right now, that's for sure. He's given me a reprieve for the moment, and has moved on to licking my hand as I write here.

Suffering. Everything and everyone that I love will leave, die, fall apart. That is the very truth of living, and the very truth of suffering. The more I love, the more pain I will feel when the loving is interrupted. So, there's a part of me (and I doubt I'm alone here) that says "fuck it! What's the point anyway?!" Why love if it's going to hurt so much later. But the truth is that I feel things really big, really deeply. And I've done enough intense, deep spiritual work that there's no turning back now. There's no shutting the door to my heart. It just doesn't make sense, it's no longer an option. And in the reality of that, suffering seems to be the only option. And I think the reason I've been feeling so angry this week is that that really sucks! So, the more I open my heart, the more pain I'm going to feel. Great. Check please...

Today as I was driving in the pouring rain in Baltimore - feeling supremely bitter and pissed off - I thought of two things. First, if life is nothing more than waking up, eating, pooping, and sleeping again, with maybe a bit of working for money thrown in, then FUCK IT! I'm not playing anymore. I will lay in bed all day and piss myself and shit my pants and starve first. I know, it sounds ridiculous. But what's behind that madness and anger is outrage - that I demand that life be more than this, that I absolutely insist that my life have meaning. And that's probably a blessing - the energy of anger pushing through the murk of sorrow. Second, the thought came to me that in spite of the devastation of experiencing death steal away the life of my little buddy while he was in my arms, I have not died. And there is part of me that feels guilty for that, that while my little kitty is gone from this world forever I am here, and am supposed to continue living. But besides that guilty part that feels like I shouldn't go on living, that I should lay in my bed and shit my pants until I die too, there is another part that says, "hey, I'm still here..." and wants to LIVE out loud, fully, richly, just like I always have. One voice says, "shit, get over this, you're wasting your own sweet, precious life!" And another says, "this pain is so deep, you will never survive it."

And beyond those voices and those feelings, there is the sunrise and the sunset, and rain and wind and clouds and starlight, and sunshine. And there is a Magnolia tree watching over the decaying body of a being that was once my dear friend. And that dear friend is probably still lingering somewhere nearby, waiting to show me what I'm supposed to learn next from this whole ordeal.

He came to me in my dreams three nights in a row this week. Once, I was in a high school classroom, with other people who I went to high school with - and there he was, trying to squirm out of my arms, trying to get out into the hallway and explore. Another dream, I was obsessing about his losing weight and being super skinny. I can't recall the other one, exactly. But what was so lovely was touching him - the sensation of having his body in contact with me - that has been what I have longed for and missed so desperately. In spite of all the esoteric teachings - and my own experience - that say that the body is only a shell for the Spirit, it is my full experience in this reality that I relate to other beings by touch, by speaking, by sight and sound - through the physical senses. That is so hard to let go of.

So, what am I learning here through this suffering? A question to continue pondering...

Moving Through

I'm feeling tired, but stirred up. It's been a quiet, rainy day, and even now, I can hear the rain falling on the roof outside. I love rainy days. And I am grateful to have spent most of this one in my house, working on making sense of the mess that has been created as I'm making room for Alan.

The worst part of today? Remembering Familiar kitty's sad little weak body suffering on this day five short weeks ago. I ended up in a slump on my bed, burying my face in the pillow, weeping. And right there beside of me was sweet Friday, letting me hold him so tight, not complaining a bit. He didn't mind that I squeezed him like a teddy bear for probably twenty minutes, and didn't care a bit that once the pillow was wet, I buried my face in his soft fur, making it damp, too. And I was so grateful for him, this sweet being who exists just to LOVE! I don't care if I sound like a cat lady. I love this kitty so much. I love him more every day. And right now, I don't know what I would do without him.

Once I felt the sadness recede, I began to work on the next stage of organizing and cleaning and moving things around. Today was a furniture move day, and I have gotten most of what needs to happen finished. One more thorough day, and that room will be clear for Alan. What remains to be done is installing shelves in the closet in the music studio, and really making the most of that space. That, and the basement! There's a good bit of stuff ready to go down there now, but I need to make some more room first, and rearrange things there, too...

It's good to have something like this in my life...major changes have been coming, and they have been overwhelming. But this change, this change in my living arrangement, is one that doesn't feel like it is happening to me, but is instead one that I am engaging in. I am peeling away the layers in my house, and rearranging things as necessary, and as I like. Getting rid of stuff, too, is good. It's not going anywhere fast right now, but the piles of things to go to Goodwill are sizable, and there are things that need to go to the dump, too. A good purge in my house is long, long overdue.

I've been feeling called back to the Medicine, and in particular, back to Santo Daime. There are some hesitations, too, though. I'm wondering if my nervous system is strong enough to handle that kind of experience right now, or if it could make things worse. Especially given the interference I have experienced in this group, I am hesitant. If I knew that I could just go and allow my experience to unfold freely without people trying to talk to me in the midst of it, or trying to control the situation too much, then I would probably go. I have some darkness to face, some fears and a lot of sorrow. But it seems that the time just isn't right yet. That's fine. I can wait until the time is right.

Coming Apart at the Seams

Sitting here on this quiet night, a sweet kitty resting his head on my right ankle as I type. The window is still open just a couple inches, ushering in fresh night air on this relatively warm evening. In this moment I am feeling calm and fine. What better thing could I ask for on this sweet night than peace and quiet, and a companion to share it with?

Throughout the day, though, I have felt like I am on a roller coaster. From anger to defensiveness to judgment to resentment to devastation to sadness to despondency. Yes, my cycle has begun, and the emotional upheaval will settle. But the truth is that each of the things that have sent me on this wild ride hold a kernel of truth in them, and point me toward something that is unsettled inside of me.

Today I went with Lynn to see the new house she will be renting after the settlement on her house is complete. Another ten days, no more. And as much as I wanted to know where to find her, and to help her move a few things, it was so sad to go there. The reality of her leaving the neighborhood really hit me in the gut. And I thank god that I moved in across the street from her almost eight years ago...she has blessed me in more ways than I can ever, ever imagine. The thought of not saying a daily hello, sharing hugs and tea and joys and sorrows, talking to the trees... Well, it sure is going to be a challenge to not loathe the new neighbor who is pushing her out. We sat on her porch after the movers left, and chatted in the overcast afternoon light. Train tracks nearby...that's almost like Oella. And big trees, and the house is nice enough. But it's a boring, soulless neighborhood. You can hear the noise from the highway nearby, and there is no character to the neighborhood. Just a street with houses on it, and people doing what people do everywhere. The thought of her being tucked away in that place, behind so many warehouses and industrial areas, and in the line of airport traffic... Well, perhaps for her, it will be exactly what she needs for now. But for me, I know I would wither. I am learning that there are two key components in a place to live for me - community and connection with Mother Earth. From there, there is no forest or river or lake close by. And a sense of community is surely much, much more than people passing each other on the street, living in tolerance of each other from behind their own doors from their own private property...

It seems that these requirements are no longer a part of what is considered a basic human need... People choose a place to live based on a whole different set of values. I wonder if the person who is buying Lynn's house looked beyond the charming house with a wooded lot behind? Or is it all about the property? People seem to want walls and land, and not really consider the bigger picture. As for me, I don't give a damn if I ever own a house. But I know I need to be able to be in the woods without much effort, and I need a real sense of community. Otherwise, I see nothing that makes it worth getting out of bed in the morning. Really.

Change just keeps on coming. Tomorrow marks five weeks since Familiar kitty passed. Lynn will be leaving in a week. My bamboo flute is done for. What next??? How is it possible to surrender to the flow of life when I feel like the river is going to drown me in this madness of change? Must I live in a constant state of distress, wondering what will be next...who will die, who will leave, what will break or be taken...on and on and on... I don't want to live with that kind of thinking. But it is what I am feeling in my life at the moment. Hence the despondency that filled my evening tonight. I feel like any move I make into trying to enjoy life is only a thin veil covering the hopelessness I feel right now. Everything is coming apart at the seams. My very reality is coming apart at the seams.

Coming Up For Air

This Monday has been way better than last Monday. Last week, my cell phone wasn't working, my bamboo flute was found destroyed, and everything seemed to go wrong. Today has been pretty good, overall. Once more, in the school in DC, doing programs about holidays - today was about prankster holidays: April Fool's in the US and Dia de los Inocentes in Latin America. What fun, singing with the kids! And on the way home, I decided to do a little shopping - this only happens about twice a year, and I made the most of it. It wasn't too awful, but I did leave with a headache. Bummer, two headaches in two days...

And it is surely days until my cycle begins, too. Headaches before that make sense. I have also been noticing that there is an aggressiveness in my mood these last couple days. Another sure sign. Add to that the fact that my skin has gone nuts, and I am surely in the thick of hormone soup! The aggressiveness is an interesting piece of it, though. Before I get my cycle, I often feel like a wild warrior woman, ferocious and strong...almost like I could rip into a leg of some dead animal, and eat it raw. Not that I would, being vegetarian and all! But there is something in me that kicks into fierceness right before my cycle comes. I find my mind wanting to respond in a defensive way, if not downright antagonistic. I don't often let this come into play with others, but it is certainly interesting to watch!

I am sitting here, now, in my soft, comfy bed. Last night I put on the flannel sheets, and fluffed up the feather bed and down comforter. What a soft, cozy nest! Add to that the best little golden kitty Friday, and I could happily never leave home again. I love him more every day. His uber loud purring is rumbling here next to me, and he has snuggled up next to my leg, to be as close as possible as I write. Thank god for this kitty! What a blessing he is in my life.

I feel like I am coming up for air. I feel like the darkness has plateaued for now. In spite of the fact that I wanted to invite it to go deeper within me, perhaps facing it in that way was what needed to happen in order to bring some surrender to the whole state of being. Things are shifting around. Alan will move in soon, my house will no longer be all my own. I am opening my life up to new possibilities. Tonight I went to a new Kundalini yoga class in Baltimore. I am not feeling so thoroughly haunted by death right now. I feel its presence in my life, for sure...but I feel like it has stepped back a little for now. In spite of the fact that I have been feeling the dark presence of death in my life for so many weeks now, there is still something in me that wants to live. And not only to just live day by day, going through the motions. But to LIVE out loud, to live deep and rich and full. Maybe the presence of death has refueled my desire to live. To really live.

No Escape

Today, after a long and powerful acupuncture session, a bright rainbow emerged outside the window. The sky changed from blue and airy to a dark, bruised shade of gray, and there, in the midst of golden afternoon sunlight, this bright rainbow emerged. The light at the end of this dark tunnel for me? God, I sure hope so.

From the way that my acupuncturist, Star, described the treatment, it was basically a long process of clearing out energy, followed by a Chinese medicine version of the Soul Retrieval. I think she called it a "shin disturbance." And I was there for nearly two hours. What a blessing.

This summer in ceremony I found the part of myself that is just waiting for "it" to be "finished." I would find myself sitting in ceremony, which I had willingly and joyfully chosen to participate in, and there I would be, cringing and holding on for dear life, wondering when it would be over, bracing for the worst. And I would work to relax that reaction, calming myself down, reminding myself that there would be incredible wisdom in the process, and trusting that it would not kill me. Indeed, it didn't. And as has been the case so often in ceremony, what I learn within those sweet hours is infinitely important to integrate into the ways that I live in my daily life in the world.

All of this crossed my mind as I was laying there in the treatment room, with needles down my back. If this is ceremony - which ALL of life IS - what is it that I am being asked to learn and know and feel?

I am sitting with this in truth for the first time right now. What is it that this flatness and fear and meaninglessness and powerlessness are trying to teach me?

The first thing that comes to mind is how I am always looking for a way out. An escape. The part of me that believes there's an expiration date on how long suffering should last, or believes that I should be able to just push it aside. And god knows I have lived that way for much of my life! Fear is cowardly, sorrow is weak, and the rest of it is just plain inconvenient. But I know that these are merely harsh thoughts that don't want me to experience life as it is showing up. And the truth is that what is showing up right now is pretty damn persistent. Thank god there is acupuncture and massage and aromatherapy and Friday kitty! These things really do help. But the truth is this - I want out. I want to move on from the pain of heartache, but my nervous system just can't shake it all off so quickly. This sorrow that has come from the loss of a significant life companion will not pass with the sunset. And as long as I resist what is true, it will push back into my life. Can I honestly just show up and feel what I feel, let it exist for as long as it needs to? Today Star said, "what you are feeling is exactly what you need to feel." Wise words, words that I have often spoken to myself. But in the midst of a huge spin, these things seem too scary. And the more I withdraw from them, the more powerless I feel. The more powerless I feel, the more my mind reacts, and the more meaningless my life seems.

There is another part of my mind that has emerged in ceremony, too, that is involved here. The part that is afraid to be trapped on a hamster wheel, and says "oh, god, is this happening again? Will it always be this way?" This is another part that wants to flee, that feels like there is no growth, no change, no possibility. That part keeps wondering, will I always feel like this??? Will my heart always feel heavy, forevermore? And if it does, I just can't stand it!! But the truth is that change is always happening, I am never in the same place twice, and what will I do if it never, ever shifts...

The power comes in my choices. I can choose to accept exactly what I feel in each moment. I can choose to explore that with curiosity, and without labels. I can also choose to stay connected to the love and divinity beyond this momentary experience of discomfort. Instead of sitting around waiting to die, and waiting for everyone and everything around me to die, I can go dance or sing or play or watch the clouds in the sky. The truth is that I am dying in every moment, and so is everyone else! So???

I feel like the secret is in embracing my feeling in my body in every moment while not allowing the mind to dominate with its fears and imaginings for even one moment. Freedom to the body and heart, discipline to the mind...yes.

One Month

Wow, I actually can't believe that I missed writing two days in the last week. Sunday and Tuesday. Sunday, probably because I was involved in the Day of the Dead Brunch, and yesterday...well, not sure why. Perhaps because there's a lot on my mind, and it's sometimes easier to look away. I could feel the tendency wanting to emerge again tonight. The "oh, well, it's so late anyway, you may as well not bother." But here I am anyway. Showing up on the page.

Sweet Friday just made his way to my bed, where I am sitting to write this. He's perched himself on my left knee, and is purring away.

Today marks one month since Familiar kitty passed. It's unbelievable to me, still, though the reality of it is completely clear. What I am in touch with right now, below my own surface, is this darkness. This voice within me that says, "what's the point of anything. We're all just waiting to die." Isn't that a song by Gillian Welch? Well, it is haunting my spirit right now, and in spite of the fact that I am able to function and even experience some level of joy and goodness in my life, this undercurrent has become pervasive.

When the truth of death sits this close, I know that I can't help but come to confront all of my fears, all of my doubts, all of the ways that I make meaning in my life. There is the question in me, "what's the point of life?" And this is a question that I, in one way or another, have been asking for years. While I am deeply committed to living as fully consciously as I can, to facing my demons, and to keeping my heart open in the midst of great suffering, what I feel right now is a flatness, a flatness that has come from something within me not wanting to feel this much pain, trying to protect me. But it is only protecting me from the suffering of loss, not from the fears of the reality of death. I literally feel like just collapsing face down on the floor sometimes when this powerlessness comes over me...I am powerless to do anything in the face of the neverending flow of living and dying. Death is already at hand, and is sucking the juice out of living, too, for me right now.

There is such a pull to want to just get on with things. It comes from within me, and definitely comes from the outside too. Whether it's someone trying to smooth over the pain with some lofty spiritual philosophy, or with some lighthearted banter, no one wants you to feel sad and flat for long. It's a bummer. And I'm definitely going about my life, doing what I do. But what is the point of doing what I do, waking and sleeping, and eating and bathing, and all that other stuff that fills up the days? In spite of the truth that I KNOW there is more to life, that there is a true sweet divine order to the universe, and that I have tasted that sweetness firsthand in profound ways, right now, there is no sweetness. Well, there is this kitty on my knee...

I know all the good answers. Life goes on. I have to choose to make meaning in my life. Love is powerful. Tears are perfect. I've said all this a thousand times, and heard it thousands more. But I am driven by the truth of what I feel within, and what emerges within right now is some shade of gray, lying limply on the floor, wondering what it's all about.

I hear that question emerging over and over in my life right now. What's the point? I've long since given up any ideas that material gain is the point, that success and status and accomplishment are the point of life. And I have often felt that connection, love, community, peace, simplicity, and the like, are the point of life. Love is surely the point of life! But right now I just can't get back to that. These are merely intellectual concepts that don't have any hold in my current experience.

So, for now, I am going about my days, trying to live peacefully and simply. I would love to have my life back. Any day now, universe. Any day.

Bamboo Flute

I am so fucking angry I could kick a hole in a wall. Or rip a door off the hinges. As if the day didn't start bad enough with me slicing into my finger while trying to cut a bagel...gushing blood as I was already late getting out the door...it got a hell of a lot worse when I got to the school I was working at this morning in DC.

My bamboo flute is cracked and split halfway up the body of it's tube, in four places. This is not the kind of cracking that happens with age and weather. This is from physical damage. It looks to me like someone stepped on it.

The last time I played it was last weekend at Ali and Forrest's potluck and fire circle gathering. And wow! What an amazing jam session that was. And it was probably that very night, while stumbling in the dark, that someone may have stepped on it, unknowingly. I don't remember leaving it in a precarious place, but it was dark, and there were lots of people around. It could have happened a few other times, too...but it really doesn't fucking matter what the details are, when it happened. At some point something happened, and it is severely damaged, and I am furious.

Patrick Olwell is the flutemaker. He used to come to the Maryland Renaissance Festival, and I bought one of his flutes there. This one, though, was a gift from a student...and it became my favorite flute ever. It has been with me as I have travelled across four continents, it has been played in sacred places all over the world. It has been the voice of my soul, as Madre Ayahuasca has opened my creativity, and it has been my pathway beyond the rigid lines of classical music into the world of free musical expression, improvisation, allowing divine music to flow through me. Fuck!! I had just begun to seriously talk with John about doing a recording on this flute, too. Now what do I fucking do?!

Patrick Olwell doesn't make these flutes anymore. I called him a few years ago when a student of mine was wanting one, and he informed me that he only makes wooden flutes now. I dug out his phone number and email today, and have emailed him with my situation. I don't know what to do...I can only hope that he can either miraculously fix this one, or maybe he still has a few old ones still in his shop, or maybe I can convince him to make me one.

You know, if someone stepped on my expensive, fancy silver flute, I would probably not give two shits. But this one...why this one?! And seriously, world, how much more of the most important things in my life must I give up right now??? First Familiar kitty, now this flute? I can't think of a lot of things that mean more to me. If something were to happen to Friday, I would say fuck it all and join the peace corps.

Layers of Mind and Feeling

I just made the difficult decision to extract my laptop from underneath Friday kitty's adorable position...he was so adorable as he sat there, covering most of the machine, as if saying "what...you did want your laptop, right? Well here I am!" Haha! And now, he is positioned partially on my other leg, under the comforter, purring wildly, but still begging with his eyes for my hands to abandon their foolishness and come to him. What a wonderful companion he is!

I am feeling an interesting combination of things right now. Not all are in agreement, either, but they are merely existing side by side within me, and I am making some effort to notice each one. The most noticeable feeling is one of joy and elation. I am feeling empowered, centered in my truth, and clear about my vision for the future, and how I can contribute to that. I am no longer lingering in a place of despair and powerlessness about my country and my culture...I feel that I do have some power to make choices and connect with people to create change, even if it is in small ways. I am grateful for my community and the sense of belonging I feel within it.

I am also feeling a sense of hopelessness, connected to the lingering presence of death's touch in my life. This part of me wonders what the point is anyway, why I should bother to try to make any change at all when in the end each of us will die to this world, pass on, and life will continue as before. And this gives me a sense of deep dread, of low grade fear. It makes it hard to enjoy any of life's gifts when haunted by this darkness. I am also grateful that in this moment, this isn't the most present part of my experience.

Another part of what I have been feeling is anger and outrage. There is a part of me that is not feeling enlightened and tolerant at all. That wants to lash out and judge harshly instead of choosing love and understanding. This part feels very much embodied in its responses, but very much mind-based overall. It is a part that is powerful, but in a power-over sense, not power-with. I let it run rampant for a while yesterday while writing in my journal, and wow, it had some serious harshness to fling about. But in the desire to honor and listen beyond the anger and harshness, I gave it space to offer its words.

One more feeling that I want to acknowledge is a lack of trust. Paranoia. The conspiracy-theory type of fear...one that only dances through the back of my mind now and then. This has been triggered several times as I have seen articles about the swine flu right now. In fact, two of my students are out sick this week with the swine flu. Apparently it targets teenagers...which makes no sense to me at all. So, my mind is off and running. I have read so much about vaccines for this illness, and how harmful and dangerous they are. I have so little faith in the western medical system - which seems to be mostly about business and making money - and it seems totally possible that this whole thing could be a manufactured illness...just another ploy to make money for the pharmaceutical companies, and to deliver even more fear to hundreds of thousands of people, making them more dependent than ever upon pharmaceuticals and vaccines and the like, to give them safety and security. Gah!!!

It is sad to me that it crosses my mind that our government would manufacture an illness and then spread it in hope of feeding much more money into the drug companies. Or even worse...one website suggested that the governments of the world have manufactured this illness together in order to control the population. While I don't tend to give my mind too much freedom to drown in poisonous ideas like these, it has crossed my mind several times. Especially regarding the plans in line for potential mandatory vaccination if the virus becomes a pandemic of a certain level. It seems to me to be absolutely unacceptable that the government would be given control over people's bodies in such a way...it is no different than rape, to me! And not only that, with so many reports of this vaccine for the swine flu being "pushed through" without adequate testing, and filled with chemicals that are potentially very hazardous...every red flag I have is raised. I have never felt clearer that I want NO part of this vaccine...

Phew...okay now...calming down...

What I am noticing behind the specificity of each of these feelings is a pattern. I experience joy when I am focused on the possibilities and creating life as I want to experience it. And I experience fear and anger and hopelessness when I focus on the problems and the ways that life controls me, and leaves me powerless to participate. And I believe in my heart of hearts that the former is the way that I want to live my life. I may not be able to change the world, or the country, or the government, or the culture, or any other human being. But I can change myself. I can do the work I need to do within myself. And I can plant my garden all around, seeing what things emerge as I continue to water them, creating the life I want to live. Power with. Yes.

More Change

Things are changing at the speed of light. I am feeling that in spite of my choices in the last months of moving into living more simply and slowly, the world is changing more and more around me. And right now, all I have is surrender. Surrender to the flow that knows its path, even when I don't.

Lynn sold her house today. I can't believe it. Not having her living across the street from me is the worst idea in the world. I love her beyond words, and I want nothing more than to have her living across the street from me for the rest of my life. And the truth is that she sold her house today, and will probably be moving within a month. Unbelievable. And in spite of the devastation of that news, there is something in me that is in the flow, that can accept it and move with it.

Alan, my friend and catsitter, moved in with her a year ago, renting the lower level of her house. And as soon as he told me that Lynn sold the house, a flash ran through my body. I knew that I needed to offer him the possibility of being my roommate. I didn't say so right away, I waited until he was coming by for dinner tonight. I sat with the idea briefly, and said, "do I really want to do that? Can I give up my meditation room? Am I really ready to share my space, which has been mine alone for nearly eight years?" And the flash that had moved through made no uncertainty in its wake. I knew that the answer was yes. Not only would it help me financially, it would help Alan to stay in this community. And he is so connected to Friday kitty, it seems like a perfect match.

I have been remotely contemplating a roommate for a while now. My apartment isn't ideal for a roommate, and I knew that it would have to be the right person. The space is small, and my needs regarding peace and cleanliness and green living are clear. I knew that I couldn't just live with some random roommate, but someone who was in the same mind as me regarding lifestyle. And surely, if Alan decides to accept, it will take some getting used to. Some negotiating our individual needs for harmonious cohabitation. But the clarity I feel about it is astounding. This is the thing that I needed to offer now. If I want to live in community, I may as well start at home, right?

I feel like I am standing in the calm center of a hurricane right now. Familiar passed, Lynn sold her house, change is swirling all around. But I know in my heart that all will be just as it should. It is my responsibility to show up with full presence as the waves swell, and now that I am feeling more like myself - more centered, less fearful - that is much more possible. Once more, the prayer of St. Francis comes to mind - "Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace." Yes.

Listening beneath the Maple

I awoke this morning at 6am because I had accepted a sub teaching job today...cold and dark, the sun hadn't even given a hint of light yet. I only slept for about six hours last night, and that's definitely not enough for me. But I spent some time lying there in bed, loving my little Friday companion, who was purring and looking at me askance, as if wondering "why are you awake before the sun?" Just as I arrived at the school, the sun was beginning to illuminate the sky, and tendrils of deep rose were glowing in the distance. Another beautiful morning, and another blessing of witnessing the sun shedding light upon the day.

Italian. I don't know much, and can't be of much help here. As usual, the kids are thrilled that there's a sub, and on a Friday. And I totally understand their joy, that the last day of the week might be a little more chill than usual. Fortunately, I'm the kind of sub who knows that, and I don't have anything to prove here. Especially after last weekend's workshop on using NVC in the classroom, I am keeping a mantra - my purpose here is to connect. I am only here a brief time, and am not able to actually manage much in the teaching realm. But I can offer a smile, some kindness, compassion and connection as I cross their paths today. And I have been feeling really good with that. I'm not here to lay down the law, to have my ego fed with power, or to make demands upon anyone. Who knows, maybe these moments of authentic connection, when they occur, will actually touch someone today. As a friend said recently, my employer is God.

It has been a pretty easy schedule today. I had the first period off, and again for fourth period. Fourth period is a long block of two hours, and while I have lots of books with me, I decided that a walk would feel good. To get away from this artificial environment and fluorescent lighting. To breathe the cool fall air, and connect to myself and the day through the rhythm of footsteps. And it was wonderful. I thought it would be good to walk for half an hour in each direction, and set out. Then, I found a beautiful maple leaf on the sidewalk. I bent and picked it up...it was just barely blushing from yellow to rose. I walked on, with it in my hand. Then, in front of me, I walked into maple tree heaven! There were small maple trees on both sides of the street, blushing to their full glory! My mind considered pushing onward with my walk, following the plan, but I just couldn't! I mean, how could I pass those trees without stopping?

I stood beneath one of them. The reddest leaves were on the outside of her canopy, and more inward, the leaves were a creamy lemon yellow. Standing beneath her, I was pulled into a different world. As I faced in, I was covered in yellow softness. As I faced out, I was embraced in the warm orange and red glow. I sat down, facing the trunk of the maple tree, and sat quietly. I began to breathe and meditate, bringing my mind back to the present. Listening: the faint rustle of leaves was usually overshadowed by the cars coming and going along the two lane road just behind me. But even listening to the cars, coming from each direction, was soothing and simple. Then, I shifted my attention to feeling: the wind on my arms, my face, in my hair. The coolness of the damp earth beneath me. And I began to tune into my body.

I began to feel the wholeness of my heartache. The embodied experience of heartache that doesn't require me to have any thoughts about the passing of Familiar kitty, or of living and dying. I tuned into this bodily experience, and explored it with the same curiosity and openness that I experienced externally just moments before. I turned my attention to listening within that feeling. And what I felt arise was the desire to just sit with these sensations as they arise. "What you resist persists" was a central idea that came to me time and time again in Peru. And this morning, as I sat beneath the blushing maple, I heard my body asking for this teaching to be taken in more deeply. To not resist what is coming up within me, but to sit with each sensation, to hold space for each one to arise and pass. And I practiced this for some time.

My body asked me to move, to stretch. I began to stretch my neck and head, then my shoulders. Then, I realized that I was deeply craving some of the simple warmups from Kundalini yoga. There was a small voice inside of me that said, "but you're sitting along the road, next to a shopping center, and down the street from McDonalds...really, yoga here?" And I said to myself, "absolutely!" So, I began to rotate my body from the waist, slowly moving into the space that I inhabit. I began to rotate from my chest, next, and then moved through some spinal flexes. I finished with some slow, simple stretches to the side and forward, and some twists. My body felt so wonderful! What a blessing it was to take this walk to this beautiful tree, and then to spend some time listening within and honoring my body's needs. I walked back to the school, feeling serene and content.

Here I sit, now, waiting for the next class to begin. Reading "Peaceable Revolution Through Education" and observing all the ways that this school, like most others, does not meet many of the basic needs of human beings. I'm trying not to feel frustrated by the lack of windows in any of the classrooms, or the teacher workroom, where I've spent much time today. I wonder, how did we get here, to creating education space that is so sterile and dehumanizing...but that is a conversation for another day and another time. r

Epiphany

It is late, and I had considered not writing at all tonight, but I simply must take a small amount of time right now to honor and reveal an epiphany I had today. It was an epiphany about love.

I went down to Familiar kitty's grave. I took two stones, and a little message from my herbal tea...it said something about allowing my inner light to become one with the universal light, and that felt right for my little one. Also, I have been offering a kintu each time I visit...using three bay leaves in lieu of coca. But also, today I decided to offer flowers in a new way. A friend and neighbor brought me some tulip bulbs a week or so ago, and I hadn't been sure where to plant them for spring. Now, they will come up in a semicircle around Familiar kitty's grave. Beautiful! My little kitty usually did have his nose in flowers whenever I had some in a vase, without fail. What a joy that will be in early spring.

And maybe my epiphany stems from that. What is now a sad place that is a memorial to my little beloved one who is no longer walking the Earth with me will become transformed into a splash of color, yellow and red, in six months' time. And hopefully those flowers will come back year after year, long after I am gone from this house perhaps. And then, people may have no idea that my little love was offered back to Mother Earth on that spot. What they will know, though, is the beauty and joy of bright flowers after a long winter.

My epiphany was this simple shift that came while I was at his grave. The words came through me, and I heard them and thought them for the first time as I spoke them. Instead of feeling the loss...this tendril of love energy that is used to connecting with that little being has no place to connect now...what a beautiful thing it would be to allow that love to live through me. No longer directed at my kitty, I can choose to redirect that love energy through me, and the power of that love will extend beyond that one profound relationship. I can allow all the love I ever had for my Familiar kitty, and all the love that I ever received from him, to flow through me, to fuel me in all the love that I still carry with me as I walk upon this Earth. It was as if I took that severed tendril of love that has been aching so deeply, and swallowed it, taking its light into my body. And with this epiphany today, I felt something profound shift within me. An openness, a space, a freedom, a deep inner radiance that feels so familiar to me.

In those moments as I offered these gifts and words to my kitty's grave, I knew that the worst of this is past. My sorrow will continue to flow for as long as it flows. I welcome it freely. As I have said before, whoever is worth loving is worth mourning. But I now feel like I can begin to move back into the flow of my life again, carrying a brighter love than before.

Tonight, too, one of my neighbors brought me a children's book to read, called something like "Desser the Best Cat Ever." A sweet and moving story of a little girl and her little kitty love, a black and white kitty much like my own. I read it when I saw it on the arm of my sofa tonight when I returned home. I cried and cried, such a beautiful book that expresses the profound love of sharing life with a beloved animal companion. Thank you Bill and Acadia for thinking of me and sharing this book. I think I might need to find my own copy in honor of "Familiar, the Best Cat Ever."

And for now, it is time to sleep. Friday, the Best Cat Ever is purring and snuggling close to me. His sweet head is resting on my wrist even now as I type, and he is truly irresistible. His head begs me to leave behind this keyboard and love him through touch. Sounds pretty good to me.

Dream of Betrayal

Cloudy morning. Still. A few birds are singing, but not full-on singing of bright spring days, this is a singing of economy. Past the birds, I hear sounds of traffic in the distance...which I don't normally hear from home. Now, a second kind of bird is joining the conversation, and the singing is more lively, if not ecstatic. A third enters, and the symphony of morning is beginning to blossom. As I sit here writing, a loud purr penetrates, and my sweet kitty companion has begun to lick my hand while I type. He is such a being of love, and his affection and sweetness have been a balm to my heart in these last couple of weeks. I truly don't know what I would do without him right now.

Last night, I was awakened sharply by a dream. What I remember is somewhat disjointed, but a few images are clear, and the feelings are penetrating even now. I dreamed that I had observed behavior between these two people that concerned me greatly. These two people were a part of our larger community, and seeing this, I wanted to help. I can't remember now exactly what it was that the man was doing to the woman, but it seemed to be causing her harm. Not feeling safe to confront them alone, I went to some of the others in the group to talk about what I had seen. Instead of receiving the concern and support that I had imagined would come from sharing this, and instead of enlisting help to confront the two people, my words were received in silence. This didn't concern me right away, but I began to feel the silence as a space between me and my concern, and something else that was going on around me. I made the decision not to take it personally, but I began to feel an impending sense of danger. Soon, those I had spoken to about this issue had shared my observation with the rest of the community, and they began to come after me, with no explanation. It became clear that I had seen something that I was not supposed to see, and everyone else knew about it, and now they must destroy me. I fled the building, and went outside. On one side of the building was a river that I could not easily cross, on the other side was a road, and the two people I had observed. The rest of the community began to come at me, almost like zombies, and they came from all sides of the building, even the roof. Just before I awoke, I began screaming and trying to find a route for escape, but felt none was possible.

This dream was intense. I felt deep betrayal by the community in which I was living. I felt like they had been hiding something from me, and maybe the same thing had happened to the other woman who had been harmed by the man - the very thing I had observed. When I probe deeper into the dream, I have a lot of questions. I'm having a hard time diving into the depth of them right now, but the feeling of betrayal, followed by the feeling of deep fear linger in me still.

I have felt plenty of fear in my life recently. Fear about living and dying, about the truth that eventually my body will fail. Fear about going through this intense process of love and loss over and over again in my life. Fear of not knowing when either of these things will grace my life. Is the fear in the dream the same as these? Probably...it sure was a fear related to living and dying. But the betrayal...was that related to this? Maybe the betrayal I felt wasn't from the community in a literal sense, but feeling betrayed by the continuity of livingness all around me that will one day cease. Living flows onward, it is only the forms that life takes that cease. And yet, the forms of livingness sure do seem to be the essence of life to me most days. I have read enough esoteric spiritual texts to have an intellectual understanding of this, but to learn it in my heart, and in my body...I'm not there yet.

I am struck by the feeling of wanting to escape, and having no place to escape into that would be impervious to their chase. Behind me in the dream was a forest. To my left, a river, and a forest on the other side. These were my only possibilities of hiding, but it seemed hopeless to even try, because their numbers were great, and my own survival and hiding skills were not strong. This feeling that I am coming in touch with is familiar to me, for sure. The feeling of being backed into a corner, and having no way out. In this moment, I don't feel the need to analyze it any further, just to hold it and sit with it. Perhaps during this day, these things will be clearer, and will bring me some understanding.

One Week

From my seat here in my bed, I can see a cloudy blue sky, and a tree whose leaves are just beginning to turn yellow. The sunlight is faint and weak this morning, providing some brightness but little warmth. But I am lucky, I am being given warmth by the cozy blankets all around me, and especially by the little golden kitty to my left side. He has a fixation with licking my hands, and has been licking away as I type. I sometimes think he likes the taste of the soap I use in the bathroom - Dr. Bronner's Peppermint - it must feel cool on his tongue.

One week ago right now, I was outstretched in the bathroom floor as my little Familiar kitty love was suffering and whining, crying out weakly. I am glad that I will not be home when that fated hour arrives - 1110am - the hour of his passing. It seems impossible that a week has passed since he died. In fact, since he became ill, my whole sense of the passing of time has become even less clear than usual. It is like the whole flow of my life stopped for him. I have a hard time figuring out which day it is, and what time it is. I am meeting my obligations without trouble, but in the other hours of the day, I feel pretty much lost. It's amazing the way a little being can give so much meaning to the day...and how empty and confusing those days become when that little being is gone.

But Friday kitty is such an incredible blessing. He can't heal the heartbreak or erase the sorrow. But he is so loving and so cuddly, and he just shows up *all the time* to love me. I always have laughed about his sweetness - that he is a "heart with feet." And that's always been true. If people broke into the house to steal stuff, I can just imagine him saying, "okay, take what you want, but hey, sit down a while and give me some love, what are you in such a hurry for?!" My little Friday kitty teacher has taught me many things, too. The two that have come to mind the most readily are these: have no memory, and love everyone for no reason. These are the gifts of this little being to my heart. I love him so much, and if he wasn't here right now, I don't know if I could be in this house anymore.

It all came on so quickly with Familiar - he seemed fine, and then he wasn't, and then he was gone in less than two days. And this has given me plenty of anxiety about my own body and mortality. The pain of my sorrow has definitely come into my body, with pronounced anxiety. Add to that PMS and an unusual amount of cramps accompanying that, and I have been pretty paranoid. I haven't been to a doctor in years, and I have little faith in western medicine...they tend to treat people as objects, so little respect, and very little time and listening...they just seem to want to medicate you and get you out of the office. But this is why I have come to appreciate alternative medicine so much. My acupuncturist always has the time to listen to what is going on, body, mind, and spirit. In fact, it is necessary to know that in order to choose a treatment. But now, my mind spins to "what if?" If Familiar kitty could go from fine to gone in a few days, my own life is equally fragile. And my parents have health issues that are considered genetically passed down - high blood pressure, diabetes, etc. I find myself concerned that I will be afflicted with these things too, especially given that I am overweight and have been my whole life. When my mind gets hold of these ideas, the fear and paranoia mount, more and more and more.

But the truth is that I am not my parents. I eat relatively well. I don't eat junk food, really, and haven't for years. I eat fresh fruit and veggies, and whole grains. I have been vegetarian for more than ten years. I do eat way too much sugar, though, and that is probably my major downfall in eating healthy. I do walk somewhat regularly, too, but am not as active as I'd like to be. I have been making an effort to walk more these last few days. I suppose that if this fear and paranoia do bring me a sincere message of ways that I can improve my own health and wellbeing, they are not empty messengers. I am listening to those needs, the needs to take better care of my body out of love of this life.

The clouds have cleared somewhat, and the sunlight is bolder. A soft breeze is rustling the trees, and a bird is calling in the distance - or is that a squirrel? It is a beautiful day. I am grateful to be alive in this sweet world.

Breathe

I am sitting here at my desk, purring Friday kitty by my side in the green chair. I have just returned from a beautiful evening of community and intimate, meaningful conversation at our monthly Wisdom Circle. There is a pronounced chill in the night air, and what a surprise after yesterday's streak of hot weather!

I am sitting here, breathing in the midst of what wants to become a panic attack. After having acupuncture this afternoon, I was hoping that I would feel more grounded and centered in my body, and to some extent I do. But I also feel anxiety banging at my back door, threatening to come in and immerse me. I called Ali, and she kindly reminded me about focusing on the exhale helps, as well as the beautiful help that my dear beloved friends, plant essences, can offer. I have just used some Geranium and Clary Sage, and am feeling a little calmer.

There is a part of me that has experienced a very raw taste of the true vulnerability of life. I have seen just how fragile life is, and how quickly it can pass. And my own mortality is staring me in the face. I, too, will come to a time when my last breath will leave my body. In this moment, there is a part of me that questions the panic that is looming...as always with a panic attack, there is always the idea of something far worse that could be happening. Sigh. As I talked to Ali, she asked me some pertinent medical questions, and said with compassion and understanding that I am fine, I am young, and I have just been through a tremendous amount of emotional and physical stress. I know that she is right. But there is always that question in the back of my mind that says, "yes, but Familiar kitty's illness crept up when he seemed fine, too..."

I am feeling a little calmer right now as the Geranium and Clary Sage are settling into my body. I have also taken a 5HTP for stress. Now, a good night's sleep with a warm, golden kitty is in order.