Category Archives: relationship

The Mutt of Life

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The other day I got a certificate in the mail. I had completed another course, had another few letters after my name if I chose to put them there. I don’t choose. My pedigree is extensive with gets and begats and doesn’t begin to express who I am or how I got here.
It’s not that the cum laude isn’t important, but the laurels pale in relation to the ground they grew in and on. It’s my experience and what I do with it that ribbons me.

We are all a mixture of genetic and experiential inputs and impulses. Every thought dictates our next action, every action dictates our results. If I let my certificate, whatever it says, dictate how I feel about myself I might as well hide behind the pedigree and be done with it.
The walk of my life needs a path and the path needs dirt and rocks. I mustn’t forget that. The days of exasperation spent in pursuit of my highest goals are the soles of my feet and the strength in my heart.
“…once you fully apprehend the vacuity of a life without struggle you are equipped with the basic means of salvation.” Tennessee Williams, “The Catastrophe of Success.”
When I look at the pulsing path of my life I don’t feel the triumphs so much as the friends and the songs. The sometimes riotous music of my peers and the eras I’ve experienced.
Part of the air I’ve breathed has been the expression of those around me. Virtual and actual. I remember how good it felt to add Bucky Fuller as one of my mentors though I never knew him or met him. Ditto John Cage.
It was a revelation to be free of my immediate influences and enter the world of possibility.

Valentine’s Day

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To you all with love and the willingness to create an internal safe space for each one of us – no exceptions!

This was written by Rev. Safire Rose, an instructor at Agape University.

“She let go. Without a thought or a word, she let go. She let go of the fear. She let go of the judgments. She let go of the confluence of opinions swarming around her head. She let go of the committee of indecision within her. She let go of all the ‘right’ reasons. Wholly and completely, without hesitation or worry, she just let go.

She didn’t ask anyone for advice . She didn’t read a book on how to let go. She didn’t search the scriptures. She just let go. She let go of all the memories that held her back. She let go of all the anxiety that kept her from moving forward. She let go of the planning and all of the calculations about how to do it just right.

She didn’t promise to let go. She didn’t journal about it. She didn’t write the projected date in her Day-Timer. She made no public announcement and put no ad in the paper. She didn’t check the weather report or read her daily horoscope. She just let go.

She didn’t analyze whether she should let go. She didn’t call her friends to discuss the matter. She didn’t do a five-step Spiritual Mind Treatment. She didn’t call the prayer line. She didn’t utter one word. She just let go.

No one was around when it happened. There was no applause or congratulations. No one thanked her or praised her. No one noticed a thing. Like a leaf falling from a tree, she just let go. There was no effort. There was no struggle. It wasn’t good and it wasn’t bad. It was what it was, and it is just that.

In the space of letting go, she let it all be. A small smile came over her face. A light breeze blew through her. And the sun and the moon shone forevermore.”

~~ Reverend Safire Rose

Hic Sunt Dracones (Here Be Dragons)

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Looking at old maps of the “flat” world that once upon a time permeated the minds of our forebears – ok, a lot longer ago than we might call “forebears”- but you get my point that it was long ago, but how far away?

The maps are beautifully drawn, illustrated with dragons in the seas at the edges of the earth. We think it’s funny now that people once thought of the earth as flat. Or the earth at the center of the galaxy.

Actually I think it’s quite the opposite. It’s a wonder that we ever got another idea – I’m not going to say “got it right” because I don’t know that we have it “right.” We live so fully in the separate universes of our minds, we have our stories and our beliefs, which take up the bulk of our human consciousness.

To make matters even more dicey, we get many of these patterns before we truly feel our separation from our surroundings. Yesterday I was in my studio getting ready for a show. I’m hesitant to put some pieces in. I’m afraid to ask for comments or opinions because I don’t want to hear bad things and I don’t want to put people in a position of making it all right for me.

So doesn’t that sound like a lot of fuss? My stories are roiling around like the seas at the edges of the earth, dragons fiercely teething on the crusts of the edges of my – my what, my self-consciousness.

Bah humbug. Butting up against my insecurities is like grabbing barbed wire or climbing a wall and finding that glass has been embedded at the top. I can always say oh what the… and then put them where they won’t be seen or put them in the show. It feels like a “big decision” but really who cares?

Be A Safe Place

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“The very purpose of spirituality is self-discipline. Rather than criticizing others, we should evaluate and criticize ourselves. Ask yourself, what am I doing about my anger, my attachment, my pride, my jealousy? These are the things we should check in our day to day lives.”
I saw this posted yesterday by the Dalai Lama on Facebook. It encompasses all life as I know it and it reminded me of the advice a friend got when she asked for help with her new husband and his children.

She had been suffering watching what she considered bad and confusing parenting that as she saw it was leading to behavior issues with children she now found herself living with. She didn’t want to put a charge in her new married relationship and when she asked a friend, who also happens to be a phenomenal therapist, she got the answer, “Be a safe place for the kids.”

What a good idea! It kept her out of her new husband’s and his ex’s faces and it allowed her some autonomy with new and fairly adult housemates. She also, on her own, decided she would not participate in actions she thought eroded the children’s taking responsibility for their actions.

Instead of getting enmeshed in the situation and adding to what was already confused, she added clarity and kept herself a safe place both for the kids and her husband. She did not tell him what she thought – a marvel of self-restraint. She didn’t tell him what she “saw” or describe or ascribe anything to anybody.

Her self-discipline kept her safe for everyone to go to – they wouldn’t be shamed or abetted, she didn’t take sides. Her role-modeling allowed anyone who could to learn and anyone who wasn’t ready to wait – safely.

A simple (ha!) act of non-engagement can be our strongest stand. Taking our self in hand can be the most powerful step we choose. Vietnamese Vipassana master Thich Nhat Hahn asks us to “let peace begin with me.” He advises to take a breath when the phone rings, the door opens, any entrance into our physical space or our emotional mind, take a moment of breath connection before acting. We will be more ourself, and that is all we’re here to do.

Random Sample

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In talking with friends this month of January I notice something’s different. For many of my friends it is important not to be in the position they were in last January.

This is said assertively, without the usual list of resolutions. They are resolute. They will not… then comes the good news – what they will do.

This is good news because when I include myself in this, we all have enough programs, seminars and how-to books. In fact when one of my friends asked another if she had been to a certain seminar and could she be loaned the materials, the one who attended said, “Yes, I’ll dig them out.”

We all have enough knowledge and tips stuffed in our drawers, how do we connect our heart/mind to this pile? How can we make sense of what’s in front of us, behind us, in deep closets?

For me, I wanted to “do” something, that’s why I bought all those books, took the courses, listened scribbling notes in large rooms and strange locations. I want to shift and grow and keep growing. I nosh on help like chips, I don’t feel full so I take more.

Now I’m hearing from those I’m in touch with that we’re in Oz and we all have what we need, we just need a little help to incorporate what we know.

Dorothy: “Now which way do we go?”
Scarecrow: “Pardon me, this is a very nice way>”
Dorothy: “Who said that?”
Scarecrow, pointing the other way: “It’s pleasant down that way, too.”
Dorothy: “That’s funny, wasn’t he pointing the other way?”
Scarecrow, pointing both ways: Of course, some people do go both ways.”

“Wherever you go, there you are.” Jon Kabat-Zinn

Let’s all have a good journey.

Believe IN Yourself

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Why did I capitalize the IN? Because it’s not always a good idea to believe yourself. To believe what you are telling yourself is often to listen to the voice of someone not necessarily on your side who wants to get you to do something they want you to do.

Believing IN yourself can be hard work. It means getting to know yourself. The old mantra on the Apollo Temple at Delphi – Know Thyself. Easier said than done. And the most important work you can do to live a life free from stress and longing.

In your mind be equal to others and you will find yourself less judgmental and more likely to give yourself the extra something you were going to give away to someone else – like your time or your effort. Being equal will let you be more compassionate, more giving, you’ll have more of everything you need.

“If you judge people, you have no time to love them.” Mother Teresa

By including yourself in the “people,” you will be taking the step toward belief that will carry you to your dreams. Be yourself, no one can do it the way you can.

Someone To Watch Over Me

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There is something elemental in our need to be seen. We’re hard-wired for it. We need it, we want it and we give it back. My dog Cho and I stare at each other. A nod across the room tells us we’re connected. A smile on his lips leaves a smile on mine. He counts the smiles back and forth as I do.

It’s not about anthropomorphizing so much as that we are both predators and it’s what we do. We’re hard-wired. Last night the moon was getting full and it was bright enough to wake me. Cho was up too. The thing about being human was that I happened to have my iPhone near me and, wanting to know more about the moon, I looked in the APP store for information about the moon.

So now I have this cool and beautiful moon on my phone. It tells me how far, how big, how much illumination, moonrise and moonset, and compass information that I do not understand. It also tells me random facts – three at a time. Of course I want more.

What Cho knows about the moon he won’t say. I think what he knows is actually not insignificant and he is happy to share space with me – here space and there space. We curled up in the bright light and told stories until we fell asleep.

When I was very young I was lucky to have someone who let me wake her up to go look at the moon. She would hold me up to the window in the bathroom where I could see the moon shining over the Missouri River. It was as beautiful a sight as any there is and my appreciation hasn’t waned since I first saw it.

The connection with the moon is older than I can imagine, it’s close and far – enough to make my head spin. Man in the moon, green cheese, gold, silver – it doesn’t matter. Both Cho and I know that the moon is there, it just is. And that’s enough.

My Mother’s Ashes

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I just came across an ashtray I made in school at Christmastime for my mother. I remember the making of it so well. The shape of it, the thing of it was all for her. She was an aloof, beautiful, untouchable woman. She had Admirers, she had furs and massages and ointments and so many occasions for her display. She read far into the night and smoked.

My gift to her was a small heart-shaped ashtray with a rose in the center. On the back it is signed, “PAM 1952” the art teacher would have had us do that. I remember giving it to her with some trepidation. Would she like it? Would she put it down without noticing? Would I find it in a drawer years later?

But those are my adult thoughts. At the time I just wanted her to like it and love me. Notice me, smile at me. That’s the part I don’t remember now. Did she smile? I don’t know. But she kept it by her bedside until she died in 1993. Her cigarette ashes are part of it now – oh yes, I have it now. I put it in a drawer, and found it when looking for something else. I think it’s time for the love to come out. I placed it with other endowed objects where it has a life of inclusion. Something I am just beginning to live with myself.

Chief Seattle’s Letter

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I came across Chief Seattle’s letter in Joseph Campbell’s The Power of Myth, recently and I am struck by the power and force of the letter. It is of course controversial whether his original speech aimed at then President Franklin Pierce’s attempt to “buy” land, said exactly this text, but I don’t really care. I am reading, after all, the power of Myth.

Occupations all over this country and the world to protest economic conditions are being shut down. Bloomberg news is publishing facts held secret by our government – in this case I don’t think partisan politics matter, “who did it” is less important to me than its correction in our society. What we make of this information will mark us for generations. What we do here is spoken around the world, it does not stay here, it is not “ours.”

When tents pitched to sell baubles are supported and protected as “private property” of corporations who have been given individual status by our Supreme Court and tents pitched by individuals representing the common good are torn down – both in the name of law – something has got to give.

Here is Seattle’s letter, It is relevant today as we prepare to slaughter our horses, dissemble information to our citizens, tax them without representation, hold them accountable without the “emoluments” of office – i.e. a hand in the till as we prepare for all the black Fridays, cyber Mondays and every chance to increase indebtedness.

 

“The President in Washington sends word that he wishes to buy our land. But how can you buy or sell the sky? The land? The idea is strange to us. If we do not own the freshness of the air and the sparkle of the water, how can you buy them?

Every part of the earth is sacred to my people. Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods, every meadow, every humming insect. All are holy in the memory and experience of my people.

We know the sap which courses through the trees as we know the blood that courses through our veins. We are part of the earth and it is part of us. The perfumed flowers are our sisters. The bear, the deer, the great eagle, these are our brothers. The rocky crests, the dew in the meadow, the body heat of the pony, and man all belong to the same family.

The shining water that moves in the streams and rivers is not just water, but the blood of our ancestors. If we sell you our land, you must remember that it is sacred. Each glossy reflection in the clear waters of the lakes tells of events and memories in the life of my people. The water’s murmur is the voice of my father’s father.

The rivers are our brothers. They quench our thirst. They carry our canoes and feed our children. So you must give the rivers the kindness that you would give any brother.

If we sell you our land, remember that the air is precious to us,that the air shares its spirit with all the life that it supports. The wind that gave our grandfather his first breath also received his last sigh. The wind also gives our children the spirit of life. So if we sell our land, you must keep it apart and sacred, as a place where man can go to taste the wind that is sweetened by the meadow flowers.

Will you teach your children what we have taught our children? That the earth is our mother? What befalls the earth befalls all the sons of the earth.

This we know: the earth does not belong to man, man belongs to the earth. All things are connected like the blood that unites us all. Man did not weave the web of life, he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.

One thing we know: our God is also your God. The earth is precious to him and to harm the earth is to heap contempt on its creator.

Your destiny is a mystery to us. What will happen when the buffalo are all slaughtered? The wild horses tamed? What will happen when the secret corners of the forest are heavy with the scent of many men and the view of the ripe hills is blotted with talking wires? Where will the thicket be? Gone! Where will the eagle be? Gone! And what is to say goodbye to the swift pony and then hunt? The end of living and the beginning of survival.

When the last red man has vanished with this wilderness, and his memory is only the shadow of a cloud moving across the prairie, will these shores and forests still be here? Will there be any of the spirit of my people left?

We love this earth as a newborn loves its mother’s heartbeat. So, if we sell you our land, love it as we have loved it. Care for it, as we have cared for it. Hold in your mind the memory of the land as it is when you receive it. Preserve the land for all children, and love it, as God loves us.

As we are part of the land, you too are part of the land. This earth is precious to us. It is also precious to you.

One thing we know – there is only one God. No man, be he Red man or White man, can be apart. We ARE all brothers after all.”

 

Misery Loves Company, Companies Love Misery

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A friend told me that she was helping someone who is lonely because she is lonely, “I am one lonely person helping another lonely person. Lonely people stick together.”

Maybe that’s true. It seemed a contradiction to me. There were two people who consider themselves lonely, they were together, helping one another. I only know how she felt and I know she was feeding and keeping her loneliness close to her. To the outside eye they were friends together helping each other. Would we have been able to tell who was helping whom? Can we ever?

Sometimes even when we have a chance it is hard for us to let go of what we might think of as a defining emotion – “I’m angry, I’m sad.” We name our dogs and our children “joy” but we rarely define ourselves as joyful.

Does happiness feel like a solo occupation when you know that misery loves company? It’s a real question for me, and one for which I don’t have an easy answer. For myself, when I find anger or sadness taking root I do find it hard to remember that my default emotion is joy.

I wonder if my lonely friend does not believe she can feel anything else. Looking around, I see stores filled with solutions for every aggravation. I would never have to find my own solutions if I believe what is on all the labels. It looks like I need to depend on everyone and everything apart from myself.

We’ve created a world of answers, but what are the real questions?