Searching for Mrs. Welby

Last of the 3

My aunt died yesterday. I am named for her as well as my grandmother, her mother. I'm the last one of us. In the long tradition of Southern double names, I am the last of the three of us.

She's the probably one of the few I maintained an old fashioned paper and pen correspondence with. I just wanted her to always know I was thinking of her. And she would always write back.

I'm much sadder than I ever thought. It shouldn't have ended this way for her. Alone in a nursing home. With a husband who wouldn't allow her to spend time alone with her best friends when they came to visit her. He was always watching and listening. Just in case he heard what he already knew was true. I am angry at him. How can insecurity turn to cruelty?

Her friends were her lifeline. My mother (her sister) has always said I was switched at birth. That I am like my aunt. And conversely that my cousin is more like my mother. Probably true. My aunt was the queen of "the dialies." Always on the phone. You could never get her off the phone. Always wanting to be connecting and making plans to see people. Threw a great party. Rolled out the red carpet for visitors. Funny, sweet, and with a huge heart. Loyal to the end.

In so many ways, I'm actually happy for her. The last 10 years of the mere 70 that she lived were hell. Breast cancer, broken hip, pnemonia, tracheotomy, feeding tube, etc. It's amazing her will to live kept her this long.

I saw her last year at my great uncle's funeral. She had a walker but was happy to be there. Family was so important to her.

Her will to live, in my opinion, came from this nest she had built. Made of friends, family, and grandchildren. Always trying to be a true lady. Her parties were the best. Always the fine china, sterling and linen. Didn't matter if it was barbecue and beans or filet. A beautiful home that she worked hard to fill with laughter and love.

As the years have passed, I'm sure her home was empty. She shared it with an angry, jealous man. A man who ought to have died at least twice from heart failure but lives on in some awful twist of fate. Her physical body could no longer work to bring the love into her home. And it could no longer grow there.

Our extended family is no picture of emotional health. Not quite Faulkner but not exactly something to win an award. The funeral will be a mix of emotions. We will all smile and hug. I will try not to gag when I hear my uncle boast about how he was "there for her."

I remember my grandmother's funeral. My cousin and I left the house. She had a brand new driver's license and a pack of Marlboro Lights. We took off to the pond in the woods. Even then we knew so much was a facade. At least this generation we don't pretend as much. We love anyway despite the imperfect and flawed pieces. It's too exhausting to be so angry. That was 25 years ago.

Where will I be in 25 years? Buring my own mother? Living honestly? Building my nest of friends and family to protect me? Will my then 20 year old son be driving off to smoke because he knows the truth of things and can't bear to fake it?

Fake it till you make it. We make it when we return to love. And as hard as it is, with love comes forgiveness. Wednesday's funeral will be a hard time to work in some forgiveness for my uncle. For my aunt, I will try. She was loyal to the end. I will let her spirit guide me.

Moth and flame

We are all moths to some flame. Do we let the flame warm us? Knowing that one flight too close will send us crashing?

Is it better to let the heat fill your soul so passionately it burns? Or stay just far enough away that we are safe. But we never get to experience fire.

Unknown land, unknown path

Tomorrow is Easter Sunday. I have the luxury of living near Old Salem where I plan to attend a sunrise ceremony. I have no idea what to expect. On any old day, the sound of trumpets makes me cry. Put me in Old Salem, on Easter, at sunrise? I'm planning to bring a box of tissues.

The photo above was taken in God's Acre, the cemetary at Old Salem. Lots of cool, strange stuff on those headstones. I admire this one. We'd like to think we would all "go" with this attitude. I'm not really sure Jesus even went with this kind of peace of mind.

But that's supposed to be the lesson in this. Let go. Let God. Right?

How hard is that lesson to learn? So freakin hard!

I had intended to write more during Lent. To walk that labyrinth. To meditate. "If you want to make God laugh, make plans"--right? I'm not even going to church tomorrow! Yikes! Headed to hell for sure. I do think I've tried to be more thoughtful and actually prayed with actual words in my head. Words from the heart but also from books or other writings.

One of my favorites I picked up is by Thomas Merton. I love this prayer because of the first line. Total surrender. No pretenses.

And, maybe that's what allows the guy under the headstone to give his cheery wave. He has given in. Takes life as the gift it is meant to be. Cherishes the present moment. Learned the lesson.

Here's that prayer:

My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so.

But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it.

Therefore I will trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone. Amen.

 

Lenten Reflections

Lent officially began on Feb 22. It's a time of reflection, going inward. Also a time of deeping your committment to God. And, perhaps a time of temptation.

For me this year, it's been a bit of all of it. Lots of things from the outside hitting me inside. Trying to take time to be quiet. Just the last 10 days have been very powerful.

I went on a girls trip 10 days ago. We sang songs going down to SC. Laughed about the what if scenarios of three married ladies on the town. The weird thing is how many of those things actually presented themselves to us/me. A night of temptations, a day of rain and napping, another night of choices. But what happens there, stays there. Let's just say when you need a bloody mary on Sunday just to be able to survive the ride home, you know you've overstayed your welcome in Temptation City and need to high tail it home.

I arrived home to receive a stinging text from a friend. Someone who I admire and respect but the text was shocking. This too was a temptation to get fired up and lash back; because I did feel lashed out at. I simply deleted the text. I don't need that kind of drama in my life. I'm working too hard inside my own heart and inside my own marriage and home.

Luckily I did set aside 30 minutes at lunch to walk the labyrinth at church. This must happen again this week. If you don't know what a labyrinth is, you should learn. Go here: http://www.labyrinth.org.uk/. I had the luxury of walking it alone. I swear to you the stain glass window of Jesus moved and was watching me. Seriously.

I was also basically verbally attacked and threatened by a coworker. No need to relive the drama here. Just learning to set boundaries and try not to just feel sorry for her.

I did receive the gift of a connection from another friend. As if all the temptations were a test to see where honest friendship can live.

We've already established that I'm crazy. But I know this year's Lent is different. I feel more open to receiving any messages from God. And, perhaps, now that I'm 41 years old, I'm better able to listen and learn.

 

Teachers on the journey

I have a friend moving out of town. I will miss her very much although I really haven't seen her much lately. She's the kind of friend you don't need to be seen with all the time. But when you need her, you need her. Because she's the only one who will just listen. We understand when the other needs to go "underground" for a bit. And each is like a vault to the other's secrets.

So while my day to day won't be affected so much, my heart will. I fear we will lose touch. I know we will exchange Christmas cards for a while but then, who knows. I can't feel our future just yet. But for now, I feel a lost spot.

I think there are friends like this that are part of the journey. Stepping stones along the path. But maybe not ones who come along. Those who appear to us as teachers for some short lesson. A guest lecturer of sorts. Mirrors in our lives so we know ourselves better as a result of seeing their perspective or watching them go through something. The lesson is learned and the knowledge is retained. But the teacher doesn't come along for the long haul.

There are others who are like the stones in your pocket. Those who provide comfort like a worry stone. The ones who weather the storms with you, see you go off the deep end, but wait for you to come back. No matter how long it takes. With some of these friends, there will be a tug of war. You might need them more than they need you. Or vice versa.

Sometimes it's too much and you wish they hadn't created so much trouble. But they are always there as a different kind of teacher. And they may just save you from yourself. These are friends on a different wavelength. Maybe deeper, maybe just on a different frequency. They see you differently. You hear them differently. They become part of your soul.

And who knows, my departing friend may become one of these. I've been wrong before. But I love her for the lesson she taught me and send her off with hopes for a new path for herself. She deserves it.

Advent 4

Year Round Stewardship- 
Weekly Advent Readings
Advent 4

"Cleaning Up for Christmas"
 Lord, we welcome your word, even when you tell us what we are doing is wrong.     
 
We know what it's like to get cleaned up. As Christmas draws very near, it's time to clean up the house so everything will be in order for the celebration. Cleaning takes a little time and effort, but the result is well worth it.

God takes time, if we let him, to clean us from the inside out. Ask God to forgive you for your sins. Ask God to help you love those around you. Ask God to heal any hurts or sorrows you have. God is ready to create a new and clean heart within you.
 ~~~Taken from Wake Up to Joy by Mark Neilsen 

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“One great idea of the biblical revelation is that God is manifest in the ordinary, in the actual, in the daily, in the now, in the concrete incarnations of life, and not through purity codes and moral achievement contests, which are seldom achieved anyway… We do not think ourselves into new ways of living, we live ourselves into new ways of thinking… The most courageous thing we will ever do is to bear humbly the mystery of our own reality.”
― Richard Rohr

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“You can’t come to God by doing it right – you come to God by doing it wrong, otherwise, you don’t fall in love with God, you fall in love with yourself.”--Richard Rohr

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“Be grateful for your sins.  They are carriers of grace.”---Tony de Mello

Feelings follow behavior

Psychologists claim that feelings follow behavior. This is a lot of the basis of cognitive behavioral therapy. Think happy thoughts, the world is better. Sort of like choosing what kind of sunglasses to wear skiing: some make the snow and sky look rosy, some make it look like pee snow.

Is it really this easy to wake up and say goddamit I'm going to be happy. Change into the rose colored glasses? What's the point? Sometimes misery feels just fine. Like an old pair of faded jeans.

But there has to be more. Right? I'm strong. I should be able to do this. Cause I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and by golly people like me.

At a certain point, you just have to believe that change is possible. At least I'm talking myself into this and trying to live it. The "psychology major, biology minor, almost famous integrative health coach nurse" person inside of me can convince everyone else that this is true. Ah, yes, but to practice what we preach....

We "fire as we're wired" is another way to say this. Our neural pathways grow and deepen with practice. One reason why meditation is called a "practice." We are predispositioned with fight or flight as a survival mechanism. But relaxation is not this way, we must practice it. By practicing, we build and deepen our neurotransmitter-mediated responses. We can really learn to relax. With practice.

Neurotransmitters also help give us our feelings. Feelings follow behavior. Change the behavior. Fake it till ya make it. Practice gratitude. Practice kindness. Practice partnership. Practice forgiveness. Okay okay OKAY.

So, bottom line here is....duh. Duh. Duh. Followed by some whining and a few "but if only..." and "well I don't have time for that..." or "I would but I don't think [insert name of person involved] will so what's the point."

This might suck. For a while. I will whine. I will self aggrandize. I will be selfish and self-centered. I will pull away claiming self preservation and refusal to compromise. I've been so out of practice with partnership and reliance on another. My neurotransmitter pathways in that department have lost their juice.

Stay the course. Fire the unused wires. Fake it till we make it. Reconnect the pathways. Reconnect the dots. Reconnect. Reconnect.

 

Rudder down

I can't say I planned it. I can't say for sure why it happened. But today was a feeling of my rudder finally being lowered. For so long, my little boat has gone where the wind blew, and I've been tring so hard to steer it. But there was always the feeling of being adrift at the whim of the wind. Or trying tooth and nail to fight the wind and current.

I've explored so many soul searching avenues. All have been worthwhile. But still something was missing. I had to keep pushing and pulling. I was so god awful busy with it too!!!

Too many metaphors would be terribly boring. And insulting.

But "rudder down" just seems to fit. I needed weight, heft, stability, and guidance. A rudder does not give a boat the direction on its own. However, it will keep you going straighter if you are trying to get somewhere. A rudder is heavy. It's solid. And although my sailing camp memories are weak, I think it may even serve as a floatation device in an emergency.

The funny thing is, I feel like the rudder was in the boat the whole time. Like I was too frantic to even find it. Much less fit it in the slot and guide it down. I was always looking up and out at the horizon.  Grabbing at ropes and trying to outsmart the wind. Too busy to notice a simple, ancient sailing tool. Nothing fancy. Just a piece of wood.

Perhaps it's just time. We've been in one place for over a year now. We belong. We have a community. How lucky we are.

Whatever it is, I am grateful. No more searching. Just accepting.

Anybody attached to a good Lama?

In my pursuit of peace (without relying on wine or sedatives), I've been reading Awakening the Buddha Within.

Lama Surya Das tells me that Westerners can be happy by freeing themselves from attachment. This is a heavy thing to think about. We crave what we are attached to. Physical things, status, praise. I think we can also be attached to an ideal, that which "should be."

So as I sit here on my last day of a holiday weekend, again alone with my sick kids, I am trying to detach myself from what "should" have been. It should have been a holiday weekend with family and friends. It should have been our last weekend to spend at the pool. It should have been 3 days where Dr. Arm and I could have unpacked the last of our boxes and started hanging a picture or two on a wall.

But it wasn't. He's been at the office 9 hours each day writing a book chapter. My son has had a fever for 48 hours. Both kids have been waking up at least twice each night. I found another lump on my dog's flank. Dr. Arm called this morning whining about a case that has been "dumped" on him. Seriously, isn't this why he gets paid? What the fuck was the last 7 years for again? I have no tolerance, I am irritated even more. He should be happy dammit, livin' the dream......

Later I put the little one down for a nap and read more of my Buddha book.

What am I attached to? And then it starts to really inflate. All the "shoulds" in my head. Either those that come from me or from others: your husband should help you more, you should feed your kids healthier foods, you should get some exercise, you should take some time for yourself. You should be happy--you're done with residency, you have a beautiful house, you live where you want to live.

"Should" creates drama. Drama is exhausting. Gotta detach from drama. Shit--that sounds like another "should."

Are we attached to an attitude of deprivation? Of delayed/inattainable gratification? Perhaps. Is it good? Is it bad? Is it realistic? Pessimistic?

It just is.

And I am just here, with my kids (well really ignoring them, right?), typing.

Thinking.

Breathing.

Trying to receive.

At least for a moment.

Balancing out the doom....

The secret art of inviting happiness
The miraculous medicine of all diseases
Just for today, do not anger
Do not worry and be filled with gratitude
Devote yourself to your work. Be kind to people.
Every morning and evening, join your hands in prayer.
Pray these words to your heart
and chant these words with your mouth

Usui Reiki Treatment for the improvement of body and mind
The founder , Usui Mikao