1/30: feelings aren't emergencies

my partner teacher's abacus

So, I took on a 30 day blogging challenge. It's day one, and I am under the weather, but I'm still showing up. I dig a blogging challenge, and it's been a long while since I've indulged in the social part of blogging. I remember the days of Creative Every Day and Self Portrait Challenge. Aw.

I've not been quite myself for a couple of weeks now. It really comes down to taking exceptional self-care; time to get back on the bandwagon. The Faye recipe for health and happiness seems to be Transcendental Meditation + daily exercise + sleep. Add a little green juice and a lot of gratitude. The meditation went first, and the gratitude went last. So, let's work backwards: I'll stop whining by way of raising my vibration to the tune of gratitude. And then so on.

I'm so grateful...

-That acceptance is the answer to all of my problems today- that I don't need to solve how I feel in this moment. For today, I can let it be, and I'm so glad I know that.

-That I finally get that feelings are not emergencies. I don't need to *do* anything besides nothing. Talk about liberation.

-That when I pray to be surrounded by full of light people, the universe just responds and responds and responds.

-To hang out with kids all day.

-To be surrounded in nature.

-For my connection with God, however heatheny my version of God might be to someone else. My connection with God has been absolutely transformed over the past year, especially the past two or three months. I'm dumbfounded.

-That abundance is abundant.

-The love is the only truth.

Lately, whenever I feel a sense of or a worry of poverty about something (afraid of not having enough or of losing what I have), I take that moment to reflect on how that particular thing (money, time, love) is already abundant in my life and to pray about more. I'm amazed by the power of prayer, and I kinda can't believe I'm saying that.

p to the owerless = s to the erenity

(Someone should teach me how to use my Canon Rebel- I kinda like this eerie feel, but I wish I knew how to catch the actual blackbirds. Faye advice window = open.)

Serenity comes and goes.

The aspect of this which leaves me grateful and hopeful is that as my sense of serenity waxes and wanes, my own capacity, or my edge, still advances forward. In fact, the dim light of my waning serenity seems to correlate to the advancement of my emotional frontier.

That’s growth, people.

In education, we refer to Vygotsky’s Zone of Proximal Development. Stay with me- this is so not “yawn.” If I spice it up with my whitegirlfromthecountry urban funk, would that help?! Fo’ shizzle. Fellow constructivism junkies, gather round the campfire…

The Z to the one of Proximal Development. This, playa’ hate-a’, is the place of optimal learning to where we try to steer our children; it could be defined as the particular p to the osition in which one is able to advance only with a bit of scaffolding, or support. Um…gin and juice. Grills. To the window. To the wall…The idea is that then, those particular supports may be removed. The frontier has advanced, and now, the classroom supports you in your new position. And so on, my bitches. Hate the game, hate the game.

The way I explain it to my students, whom I try to train to choose their own difficulty levels, etc., is something like this:

“If you feel a little bit confused, and you have to think hard, try out different ideas or get a bit of help from tools around the room, me or each other- you are in the right place. If you are so confused that you have no idea what you are doing, you need to take a step back- don’t worry! You’ll get there, but not by jumping ahead. If you are doing something that is super easy, you are probably not growing today, and it is time to push yourself.”

(more blurries= why not? a day at work w the iphone. my feet are the grown up ones.)

I had to enter my own emotional Zone of Proximal Development to accept and live out my powerlessness over others and over situations which I do not need to solve, as the universe will reveal and resolve in her own time. For years, I have learned of such concepts from books. I was surprised (mother effing shocked) to find that, in spite of my desperate immersion in literature, I had done a lot of spinning of my wheels; my capacity, without some help, had been tapped out like a trailer park keg of Miller High Life.

Now, I have different kinds of tools- just as the students in my classroom have tools to help them advance. I’ve been living it and immersing in it instead of simply learning about it in books. And, the frontier of my edge- it is advancing. I do not always have a sense of serenity, but I have a sense that something greater than me- an underlying rhythm, a pulse, an evolving and responsive universe- is in guiding this ride with compassion.

It has been terrifying and liberating so far to let go of the power I thought I had; but, the fear is something like a fear of the unknown or even withdrawal from a lifetime of holding on so tight. I know this, because I can sense the paradox: though sometimes afraid, I’ve never felt safer. Or braver. And more than anything: alive again, with the pleasures and pains and courageousness of a life out of hiding. Which, of course, makes me think of Kahlil Gibran's words:

But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure, Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor, Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears. -Kahlil Gibran

In other news: After something like six years, I’m moving my blog. Or, at least I have another blog I will probably consider more primary. I might merge the two eventually, and I might keep this one up. I dunno. I’ve realized I want to talk a lot more about scandalousy things that I’m not sure I should put on here- which means I tend to not update here these days. Good scandalous. Not bad scandalous. I just think I’d have a lot more fun if I didn’t feel the need to hold back. I’d be happy to tell ya where I am if you are a girlfriend or an online friend- others, just ask. But be warned: I’m more socially inappropriate than I may have let on.

How to peel an onion.

Ah, the layers.

In front of me is maybe an inch of visibility- not a whole step- only enough to see that I am probably safe from death or disaster for at least the evening- or maybe until lunch time. Where I am, it is as dark as the Blackbird’s black night.

Today, my thoughts are as empty as blackness. You know that moment in the movies after the bomb has exploded- that strange kind of silence? That is something like the emptiness that I am hearing. There is a ring to it. It is quiet and loud at the same time. It is the panic of the unknown. It is the peace of inevitability.

I’ve tried to control so much; I thought I could do it. Not other people, but the outcome of my own life. The avoidance of pain. Of let down. Of disaster. Sure, the core of control, like that of an onion, is mythical; yet, knowing that makes it no less terrifying to let go of all that I thought I had wrapped up neatly. Holding on. Grasping. And is that something like panic?

I have read books about this, about the virtues of letting go, how beautiful it will be. I’ve known it was time to release that branch I've used to tether myself to the water's safe edge, the only thing keeping me from flying downstream. I remember smiling at the salmon as they hop upstream; silly salmon- you think you can keep that up forever? Let go, the river nudges, gently at first. Sticks and leaves and bubbles fly past at break-neck speeds, toppling over rocks and quickly out of sight.

My enthusiastic faith in the river, in the better life I’ve heard to be found downstream, is replaced with- terror? Something like it. Something immune to rationality, to reality. River: If you don’t let go, the branch will break anyways.

I'm not sure if I let go or if I couldn't hold on anymore. The current hasn’t slowed; I don’t know where I am. I don’t know what the next inch of river brings.

It is dark, and I finally revel in it. The darkness becomes my liberator. I’m not in control; I don’t have to be, and thank God, because I’m exhausted from the misconception. I am seeing the lessons in the darkness. Only in darkness can I surrender to the universe- it is not surrender if I know all of the outcomes, or if I think I do. Only in the darkness can the light find itself.

“Blackbird fly, blackbird fly, into the light of the dark black night.”

I am peeling through the blackness, and I can see the light.

good morning, neighbor.

(periphery)

It is finally growing warm enough to spend my mornings outside, as I love to do. Well I wouldn't call it warm, but with a giant sweatshirt and a cup of chamomile tea, it's doable for someone even as wimpy as me. Preston digs his nose into my legs, hiding himself under the table from the rambunctiousness of Fool 1 and Fool 2, who sprint in constant combat across the bricks. We are full on ghettoasis this morning; the bird songs, towering trees and sounds from the waterfall below could almost fool me into believing that the waterfall isn't made of urban litter (which I am not moving- love my trash waterfall!), that there aren't a couple of no-tell motels within walking distance. I love the contrasts. I love it here.

B loves the Cliff, too; but he doesn't love this particular neighborhood as I do. With no interest in the house, he is moving to another Cliffborhood. It is frightening, yes, the fact that he is finally leaving. I can feel one foot out of my comfort zone, and I feel quite naked. We have known this was coming for much longer than we have outed ourselves, and we kind of knew for much longer than even that. We are both peaceful and compassionate towards one another in this, and in that peace, we find our confidence that this is our best next step.

It is hard to explain to others why getting divorced is a step forward, mostly because it seems an unconventional line of thought to many. People who know us well know that we love to spend time together and that we rarely fight. They know that Bruce was wonderful to me when I was very sick, and that for a long time woke up an hour early every morning to make massive amounts of green juice to help me get better. They know I helped him through his mom's lymphoma last spring; they know he then helped me through my mom's lymphoma later that spring. They know we practice transcendental meditation together and go to one another for spiritual advice.

In spite of all of this, we feel like we have outgrown our time with one another as a married couple, that keeping our relationship in this capacity isn't best for us. Of course, there is always more; yet, even the unspoken "mores" don't really warrant being typed into words, because the point is we aren't thriving like this, and it is no one's fault. Does that make it a mistake? Not for me; I would do it exactly like this again. It has been a wonderful seven years of safety and stability, which I know I needed and will always be grateful for. Do I think I'll get married again? Well, I've learned to try not to say never, but I don't think so. I have questioned whether marriage was the right path for me for years, and I do think I needed to get married in order to have those intuitions confirmed. I may be with someone again; but, a forever promise just doesn't feel right. If forever happens, that would probably be lovely; but then, after the dust settles, most everything seems lovely anyways.

I remember learning about the Buddhist concept of impermanence from Lori when she was working brilliantly through reorganizing her life post-cancer. I recall reflecting on how special B was too me- How could it be that we are transient bubbles on a stream, no more connected to one another for eternity than any other two particular bubbles? How could it be that we could pop out of existence as individuals who felt so much compassion and connection for eachother, and just be water, sameness, perhaps even other bubbles down the stream? I still don't have an answer, but I've developed a haunch that our path is to follow our bliss, to float down stream; and maybe that the love and connections we find on that path are a reflection of the sameness and compassion that is core to the relationship that we all share...That the love we feel between two people is one of the greatest hints of all time, an analogy.

bubbles on a stream.

I have this quote and design on a coffee mug that just might

be my main source of wisdom at the moment.

This is a strange time for me.

I'm not sure if I should even say up here what all is going on. In 3 months, my health has spiraled, my husband's mom has been diagnosed and then cured of non-hodgkin's lymphoma, then today we find out my mom might have ovarian cancer-- she is not insured, and won't know for sure until her medicaid goes through, but apparently that's what they are thinking. Yesterday, I found out that another very special person to me has been dx'd with pancreatic cancer. Bless her. Bless my mom. Bless B's mom. Bless all of us.

I went to the new endo yesterday who said he's not ready to treat the tumor- unless it's Cushings, which he's checking for, and in which case I'll need neurosurgery this summer (but this is very unlikely). Interesting. I think I need to juice. I think I need to run again. To write. To somehow deal. This is the weirdest time- somehow dark, yet I know that there is a purpose. I'm not sure what to do, really.

no more fudge-ickles.

Green star juicer. Cheaper. Uglier. Crazy amounts of versatile. Lots of people love it, including juice guru Kris Carr.

Pretty, pretty princess Super Angel Juicer. Supposed to make better juicer. More expensive. Supposed to be easier to clean. I don't think it's as versatile. So pretty.

Downtown Dallas from the zoo monorail. Zoo monorail!

It's a big week.

Work + Me as a Neurotic: There are two more days of school. I'm going to miss this group SO much that I wondered how I'd do it this time! And there's the silver lining of this health drama- nothing can make me NOT want the school year to end right now. This is all my ego talking, because I love teaching; honestly, I'm ready for a break from the sucking at my job feeling. This has really taught me how strongly I identify with doing well at work. Right now, I just can't do what I used to be able to do, and I have to find a way to be ok with that. I'm so surprised at how "Monica" (from Friends) I am about it-- I want to run around to everyone: "Are we okay? Really, even secretly? What about now? Now?" I'm often observing thoughts like, "Does she think I'm making this up?" I want to be that person who doesn't care what others think, but my thoughts are more along the lines of, "Is there anything I can do so you will like me? Please? Like me?" Don't get me wrong- when I decide it's okay, I can easily get over someone not liking me; but it's very rare that I truly write someone off like that.

Green things: Getting a real, fancy pants juicer! I'm SOOOOOOOOO over this health crap. I watched a couple of documentaries, too; that, combined with this health dram fest may have just put me over the edge to a healthier me. The other green thing coming into my life is (maybe)...wait for it...a PRIUS!!! If the 90's hippie conversion van could see me now!

When I get more healthy: I'm going to be more present with my family and my friends and my funky little pets. This weekend was my dad's 50th birthday (my parents had me when they were young!). He got a Fender! My dad is seriously a rock star guitar player. There's all this musical talent in my family. You should hear my mom sing, too. And my aunt. Me, I'm like those people who try out for American Idol that have a dream but not much talent. I rock out, it just doesn't make a pleasant sound. like you hear on the radio...I've been thinking of trying guitar (again); my dad kind of inspired me. Sometime I'm going to get one of those electric pianos, too. It keeps getting pushed to the back of the budget. That's okay, though. I'm glad I got my camera first. It was my present to myself for doing leadership team.

Well the good news is I got a hair cut and it was at an Aveda spa for uber comfort and relaxing (and wine for the asking); I also don't look like Laura Ingalls Wilder anymore.

Also, Thursday I saw India Arie in concert. Please see her; she is the voice of women and exactly what I needed. I only saw her for about 30 minutes because I was just tired, but it was perfect. Her positive and spiritual message is beautiful; it just seems like the answers the world needs, especially women. After all of the weight gain (put on over the past 6 or so years, being sick and not knowing it) , listening to India sing songs like "This Too Shall Pass" and "Video" was perfect. At the beginning, she prayed that the concert would touch everyone in exactly the way they needed.

The other news is my health has very much spiraled as we attempt to figure this tumor thing out. I can barely get out of bed sometimes; it's unbelievable- we are talking tired to the point that I'll have B drive me some place to "get out of the house," and by the time we pull up, it's not worth getting out of the car for me, and I sleep right there. I've never felt anything like this. My work and family and friends (although I rarely am social these days) have been fantastic. My mom flew out here when B visited his mom (dealing with chemo!), so I was not alone. My work has given me the space I've needed, including the wonderful parents of my classroom; I don't like to discuss work in detail, but I will say that 12 parents attended our final field trip! Sadly, I just haven't had the stamina/physical stability for the past two field trips. It's been hard. I so identify with my role at work, being good at it...and, although I still stand proudly behind my teaching, there is much that I just can't do. I love being with my students. I love teaching. Missing the last field trip was unbelievably hard; the humility of watching a sub and 12 (very kind- I don't know what I'd do without them!) parents load my students onto a bus because I couldn't do it all just hit me at once, and I went to my class and just cried.

Thank God for the people I work for, the people I work with, the kids I teach and their parents. Thank God for B, for my family, for my friends who put up with me never ever calling. I know this too shall pass. I know it's all good in the end. I know I will see it. I have enough wisdom to know it will come, I just don't have the wisdom to see it right now.

Wednesday I visited my infinitely wise gp (message me if you are a Cliffie and need a fabulous THINKING, non-egoic gp!). I knew things were much worse, but it's one of those things in which I've felt so exhausted for so long that I'm not sure what's what these days. She looked at my cortisol labs and said, "Your life is hell." I had this instant feeling of validation-- for people going through something that no one can seem to figure out exactly, the LAST thing you want is a normal lab or a dr to minimize things! She tells me I'm approaching total adrenal failure and I need to get into a good endo in "days, not weeks." I think only a handful of people will understand why this was good news to hear (as was the tumor!).

The endo, I'm working on. My last endocrinologist was, well, we're not going to work out. I cannot wait out the left-brain logical-sequential approach to this. I'd like to get into someone that specializes in pituitary issues; I'm wait listed right now but some say they can see me if my gp asks for an urgent referral (working on).

I have researched cortisol levels that are this low, and it seems that these people wear medical bracelets-- you need cortisol to live. If you're in an accident or ill and your body can't make cortisol, that's a life or death thing. I'm not certain if this applies to me-- I tend to think we just don't know if it applies to me. We don't know how or why my cortisol has tanked, if its related to the tumor or no.

I'm getting a little, not worried, but wondering if this is going to be something more serious. When you step out far enough, there are only a couple of things that would make sense and encompass the breadth of lab results and clinical symptoms. One is not very good, and one is pretty bad.

I cycle between acceptance of my new normal and then desperate fantasies of coming back to next year's school year as if I've been 'watered,' energetic, thin again, healthy and strong. And then there are the darker times in which I wonder if this is the beginning of some kind of end, of what's nature I don't yet understand. I know I'll come to terms with whatever I need to reconcile, but I'm finding myself grasping onto the structures I've so intentionally built into my life. I want them to be permanent; I love them. Intellectually I'm aware of the ephemerality of things, and yet intellectually, I grasp. Another day, another paradox.

:)

It's raining, it's pouring, it's all relative.

evergreen + rain drops

leaf +  grasping

It's all relative.  Is it a good day? A bad day? I feel...depressed? But I don't know if I would call it that, because I know everything is going to be fine.  Better than fine.  I know this is important for me, this experience.  One part of me is actually grateful for the challenges, knowing my job is to let go and float down stream, follow my bliss, see where I go.  On some other level, I just feel...tired.  And not just toomah tired, but some kind of emotional hangover of sorts.  I feel like my vulnerabilities have been exposed, like the ground I stand on is shaky.  And intellectually, I know that's okay and even good...but I'm having a hard time moving, because I just feel a little, I guess, beat down?  It just is what it is.

I'm not at work.  I'm working out things that make part of me sad, like setting up what to do if I need to take a leave of absence (which is heart breaking to me!), going to the doctor, making more appointments, figuring out how to get my insurance company back on my good side, and catching up on a lot of the work-related things I simply did not do last week when I was in my pharmaceutical daze.

This moment is the perfect teacher.  This moment is the perfect teacher.  This moments is the...

trash water fall + upgrade to class I rapid

This moment is the perfect teacher. No. This one.

+If you wanna look at the bright side of things, sleep every night with a Preston next to you.  No matter what happens any other time of the day, you've got that and it's pretty great.  One of those small pleasures that adds up to a whole lot.

+Preston makes everything better. 

+If you want to look at all sides, listen to Pema.  She would say to lean into the pain, the groundlessness.  Be grateful for pain and losses, a reminder of the inherent impermanence of things, of the groundlessness that is our true reality.  You know, I've tried to visualize myself in groundlessness, and it was not at all comforting; I had really thought it would be.  But, when I visualize myself in a river or creek, letting go completely and flowing with the current of the stream, I do feel comforted and at home.  And I do want to let go, and I am, kind of; but it's also so easy to grab a branch here and there, or to think you've let go and not even notice your legs are exhausted from trying to kick their way upstream.  This moment is the perfect teacher.  Even the kicking.  And the grasping.

+Today at work, I did some inner grasping.  I had a reaction to some new medicine, yet another new.   All in all, not that big of a deal in and of itself, but of course I let it all add up.  I felt so out of control about things these days, just like, "I can't control what I'm doing right now in life.  I want to, and I can't."  I had this awareness that all the control I used to have, over my body, had just been escaping me, little by little, and now it seems to be escaping in ever-expanding chunks-- and there I was, not being able to do my job (which I tend to identify with), and really having to face that it's harder to do my job the way I'd like...knowing that what I was so excited and relieved might help me was doing the opposite.  I really did want to panic a little bit, because having no control has been a recurring theme as of late.  It's very humbling.

+And, in the humility was finally the reminder that I was never in control anyways.  "This is where I am," I thought.  And I just kept saying it to myself.  "I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.  I'm doing exactly what I'm supposed to be doing."  And, when I went back to my class and watched a bunch of 6 year olds just so into their creative little works, I thought about how sad I felt to not be "with it" enough these days to really engage with them like I should.   I mean, I'm doing my job, but not with the same passion.  But I remembered again, "This is exactly where I am supposed to be."  And really, although so much of me hates, hates, hates this, it is.  Exactly.  

+The meds, by the way, I was given yesterday for these chronic, debilitating headaches I've been having.  I've had a handful of migraines in the past, but have never gotten medicine because I've never had a consistent issue.  Then, I started getting "migraines" that wouldn't go away, that were really kicking my youknowwhat.  Thought it was a migraine from the hormonal changes of said toomah  or something to do with sinuses, but the dr said it sounded a lot like cluster headaches.  Huh.  I had heard those, but thought they were only the ones you hear about that are supposed to be unspeakably painful (think: screaming in public).  Some say it's the most severe pain known to medicine; mine are not like tickles, but man, it is nothing like what I've heard.  I did a little reading, and there is a correlation between tumors like mine and these kinds of migraines.

+Maybe this will get me motivated if I end up needing what shall henceforth be referred to the "what the hell?" surgery.

+Maybe Preston needs to come lay with me.

+Or, maybe I should just be still with the drama, the uncertainty.  The uncertainty was there all along.   Now, my life circumstances have just highlighted what is a universal truth already; why do I act surprised?

+-says one part of me.

+The other part is feeling pretty shaken; accepting impermanence can be a b&*%$.

stillness speaks

+you know that book, The Great Kapok Tree? + This is a kapok tree somewhere near Quepos, Costa Rica, which I clearly cannot get enough of + It is way huger than it looks here + I think I took this pix from a car, actually +

Stillness speaks, says Eckhart Tolle. Not that he's the first or last to say it. Really, when I think of sitting still through mental drama, I think of Pema Chodron and her fabulous words which have really become somewhat of a mantra to me, "This moment is the perfect teacher." In honor of day one of my new two-day (did you know some people do like 90 days?! Holy crap!) second juice fast, I've been reading Tolle's little book called Stillness Speaks. Before I actually read some of it this morning, I did sit for a long time (kind of). I was semi-grumpy for what my normal self would call a silly reason, and really didn't want to sit with it (because, like, it's uncomfortable!). I'm realizing more and more, that these are the times that I would often not even know what was annoying/grumpifying me, because I'd move right on to some kind of destraction. And every time...EVERY time, like frickin' magic, when I sit with it, look the discomfort in the eyes without even telling it go go way, away it goes. It goes away, even if it takes awhile. And I don't tell it to go away; I just accept the moment, I say to myself, "this is what is, the feeling that is, or the fear that is floating past my mind like a dark cloud." This too shall pass, dark clouds and giant fluffy clouds alike...Then, I picked up the book and read something I found fitting :


"When you are identified with mind, you get bored and restless very easily...When you feel bored, you can satisfy the mind's hunger by picking up a magazine, making a phone call, switching on the tv, surfing the web, going shopping, or- and this is not uncommon- transferring the mental sense of lack and its need for more to the body and satisfy it briefly by ingesting more food...
OR, you can STAY bored and restless and OBSERVE what it feels like to be bored and restless. As you bring AWARENESS to the feeling, there is suddenly some space and stillness around it, as it were. A little at first, but as the sense of inner space grows, the feeling of boredom will begin to diminish in intensity and significance. So even boredom can teach you who you are and who you are not..." -Eckhart Tolle, Stillness Speaks


Uh, yeah! Put a check mark for me in all those boxes! That's what I want to do this for. I think I'd like to go the rest of the day without the internet, and then not at all tomorrow (except maybe to post). No movies. Just acceptance and awareness for whatever is in that moment. In this present moment.

And a little xanga wannabe update. I shall now attempt to define myself by my books and song:
+Been listening to: New Soul, by Yael Naim; The Heart of the Matter, by India.Aire; The Amelie Soundtrack (Le Fabuleaux Destin d'Amelie Poulain), by Yann Tierson
+Been reading: Stillness Speaks, by Eckhart Tolle; Goodnight Nobody, by Jennifer Weiner; The Laws of Money, by Suze Orman
+Been watching: Oprah's Soul Series, Season 8 of Friends...but I'm putting it away! I am!

dosha smosha?

+Monkey over my head+ Manual Antonio, Costa Rica+ ahhhh+

So I'm totally going to an ayurvedic doctor in in a couple weeks!! I am SO excited! The best part? He's a regular dr, too, and he graduated from my husband's medical school...In 20 minutes on the phone, this guy used Ayurveda (India's traditional medicinal system) and told me so many things about myself that I didn't tell him so couldn't not freakin believe he knew! Honestly, a little surreal. And ayurveda? It's kinda cool...It presuposes that all of us have a body tendency, or humor, called a dosha. When I've previously read about it, I thought it sounded too flakey for even me; but when I really applied the ideas to my own life, I realized that it makes a lot of sense and really doesn't go in the face of Western medicine but instead summarizes it in a different way and offers very different solutions. More later.

I think Dallas is weighing us down a little now that summer is here...On one hand, I love it here so much; my job is truly amazing and a place where I can live out my work as a spiritual practice. I've enjoyed the energy and the arts of living downownISH of a bigger city, and I have met some people who I find uplifting and inspiring...Even with that, sometimes I miss the midwest so much, or even just places where people can go outside without developing asthma...I miss nature walks and creeks where people take their dogs...I feel like the Dallas culture might be extra achievement oriented with less value on community interactions; I really think standard Western lifestyle is just amplified here by the major urban sprawl that exits that is so prevalent, and the lack of a vital downtown core. Also, maybe the fact that the economy here has been relatively stable compared to other places, so you can make a little money here. We find that you tend meet a lot of people who moved here for money, and aren't from here AND if they do live downtownish, that usually seems to mean that they just haven't fully settled down yet and soon will be off to the suburbs to do so...I can see us living in Austin someday and that being a truly good fit...Both B and I are the outdoor type and talk about hikes, camping and have always wanted to have our own kayaks (turns out our relationship is not strong enough to share a canoe). I don't need all this in my back yard...A 15 to 20 minute drive would be just fine...So I guess I'm making this my open letter/appeal to the city council to turn the suburbs into a nature preserve.

Anyways, Austin is good for all that, and I have to admit that a greater community of like minds might be nice. The real mother ship, I tend to believe, is Costa Rica.

But then again, maybe I need to let go of the ideas I had of who (and where) I thought I would be, to make way for upcoming fabulousness of which I've never dreamed? B and I NEVER thought we'd end up in Dallas for good, and always talked about living in a very liberal city with hippies and lots of live music, which is, well, not where we live...As we become who we most are at a soul level, does geography matter?

maybe

Once upon a time a peasant had a horse. This horse ran away,so the peasant's neighbours came to console him for his bad luck. He answered: "Maybe".

The day after the horse came back, leading 6 wild horses with it. The neighbours came to congratulate him on such good luck. The peasant said: "Maybe".

The day after, his son tried to saddle and ride on one of the wild horses, but he fell down and broke his leg. Once again the neighbours came to share that misfortune. The peasant said: "Maybe".

The day after, soldiers came to conscript the youth of the village, but the peasant's son was not chosen because of his broken leg. When the neighbours came to congratulate, the peasant said again :"Maybe".

(Huai Nan Tzu)

you could be my umbrella. ella ella ella hey hey hey

Currently reading:

Just finished, "In Her Shoes" again. You know, as part of my Jennifer Weiner re-readathon. I only re-read two, but two was enough and they were good, even though I'm not usually into re-reading. Thank god I'm reading more fiction again...Something is wrong when you can no longer bear to settle into fiction. It is as if your mind will not tolerate something that does not result in some sort of "gain," whether it is professional, personal or spiritual. I find that as I've practiced presence more, reading fiction is back (replacing dumb, often regretted internet time) and I'm having fun with it. It makes me sad to think of all of the time I didn't read that kind of book...it's so good for the soul to invest in something that is made-up and just as and transient as the lives we are living right now.

and of course I'm still reading "A New Earth," by Eckhart Tolle.

In his book, Eckhart Tolle says, "The key to understanding 'this to will pass' is knowing that non-resistance, non-judgement and non-attachments are the (keys to) enlightened living. Once you see and accept the transience of all things and the inevitability of change, you can enjoy the pleasures of the world while they last without fear or anxiety about the future."

Love it. I love this book. I love the WAY he quotes Jesus...It feels like that final connection I've been looking for (consciously and unconsciously) to reconcile the Buddhist philosophies that make so much sense to me and have brought me the most peace with the intensity and intimacy of my childhood connection with Christianity. I love reflecting back on verses from the Bible that used to mean so much to me. I haven't known what to do with those for awhile, but they fit in so well with this paradigm of thinking.

I'm grateful for mornings with flickering candles and heavy cups of coffee...open patio doors...relaxing with books and slow, purposeful breathing. I'm grateful to go to work in an inspired setting with inspired people, and to share laughs with kids, to work in small groups at my little kidney bean-shaped table, with my window open behind me, listening to spring's birds, the old-school bowling alley-ish wood floors shining in the sun. It could all end, disappear, turn out to be a fleeting dream, one of a million bubbles on a fast-moving stream. There is nothing I can do to make the impermanent permanent. That used to cause me pain. But it is reality, and accepting it feels better than the mirage of stability.

“Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow. The important thing is not to stop questioning.” Albert Einstein

So, Dear Universe...

Someone somewhere undoubtedly has a more important question, but my sneezy a$$ self wants to know: What is the lesson in a cold? Is there a lesson? Stillness? A reminder of the fleeting, impermanent state of things? Appreciation for baseline? When I am sick, I tend to feel anxious about what I'm not getting done and of the life I'm not getting. I think things like, "I should be outside," and "how am I going to write my lesson plans?" Pema Chodron says, "This moment is the perfect teacher." What is this moment trying to teach me?

I've also been wondering, will Sabrina and Mark(DWTS) stay together forever? And what is your take on Albert's strappy sandals?

and when i see you, i really see you upside down

Lyrics from Dath Cab for Cutie's "A Lack of Color." It's what I'm currently listening to. Take that, Xanga.

You know, in yoga, they say we hold emotions in our hips. I have also read that tight hip muscles are the main underlying issue leading to knee pain. Now, isn't that interesting? As I have whined on here for, years actually, I have chondromalacia (fancy pants talk for arthritis before you are 30) in my knees. This keeps me from my old hobby of running, my lame excuse for getting fatter, yada, yada, whine, whine. Well, it was a hobby to me.

Interesting flakey fact number one is that I have a history of being totally unaware of negative feelings, and I've started wondering, "where did they goall those years?" Were they in my hips? (Yeah, I know it's weird.)

I was the "it's no big deal" girl, and I didn't even know it. I just thought I was accepting and forgiving. You know, I have this very spiritual, interesting friend who is an Episcopalian priest; one day he gave me a Buddhist book on anger, and I was totally surprised bc I never ever acted angry. Ever. I was a little offended; yet, when I read the book, it became clear to me that I was angry about a whole mess of crap. I just didn't really know it.

For me, I think it was a form of rugged individualism...you know, that I would not be invested deeply enough that anyone or anything could actually have an effect on me. And I'm not going to get all weepy here, but I'm talking about some super serious stuff that I never knew even bothered me.

I think that book helped me accept the duality of feelings: You can forgive someone, but still have the pain and even some anger, bc that part is outside of our scope of control. And if you turn your head to those emotions, they don't go away, they just change in form. Since I've been more awake to this, I'm continually surprised at what feelings feel like! Case in point, I have a friendship that sort of fell apart almost a year ago. No, I'm not in middle school; turns out, this happens with grownups, too. My point: I am actually shocked that sometimes I still feel sad/hurt. Okay, so on occassion, this initially comes out as Mean Girls-esque judgement; I'm straight up human. But still, I'm shocked by the lingering nature of the whole thing, and I don't think it had a lot to do with the details of the relationship. Rather, that is what it's actually like to be invested in another human and to then get hurt. A few years ago, I would have reacted with full indifference.

My point here is, look at me growing! I am so less repressed than I once was.

Excuse my stream of consciousnes, by the way. Day in the life of a random processor. Barbecue.

sedation 101

Haven't been blue or anything; I have, however, been feeling generally uninspired, which is why I haven't been around here much. I've poked my head around my regular reads, and it seems I'm not the only one who hasn't been feeling the updating vibe. I wish I would sign up for more of those artistic prompt websites like Self Portrait Challenge, Inspire Me Thursday, etc. I guess what I'm saying is I'm in need of some inspiration.

Costa Rica inspires me; that's why I posted this rainforest picture I captured on my honeymoom. Aren't these beautiful? If you've been to CR, you know this plant is no anomaly. I think it's some sort of bromeliad (pineapple cousin)...which, if you are a secret life sciences nerd like me, you know that bromeliads are the plant in the rainforest in which poison dart frogs lay their eggs. The rainforest is like a caricature for life; deep, humbling contrasts such as the shimmery reds and yellows of a tropical flower to the deadly tadpole that lies within its leaves...The great kapok tree to the tiny, insignificant people who stand in its wonder.

Speaking of insignificant in the scheme of things...Long story short, my "great new job" didn't work out. Don't worry, no one was fired by anyone, I left them, everyone's on good terms with everybody and nobody's mad at anybody. Nothing I should be sharing on even a mostly anonymous blog, so the short story is that I'm in a well-planned job search...meaning I'm financially prepared to wait several months in order to find the place where I really need to be. I don't regret going to the job where I was, and I don't regret leaving either. I followed my bliss, and now I just need to hold on. What is hard now is that I am in a waiting place...You remember the waiting place from Dr. Suess (Oh the Places You'll Go)...

"...for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or waiting around for a Yes or a No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a sting of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting."

Pretty surprising that my life (all of our lives, really) seems to be following a Dr. Suess story, bc I believe it hasn't been long since I referred to myself as being in Dr. Suess's "slump," or something like that. I've read ahead in this book, and it gets good in the end, so I guess it's all okay.

My point is that waiting is hard for me...bc it is vulnerability. I just want to 'fish or cut bait' with everything. Everything. I guess everyone is that way a little, at least. I've grown a little concerned about my issues with vulnerability, though, b/c I've realized it's more ubiquitous than I thought...


So, I tried to entertain the thought of, well, sharing my life in that way (not that this would matter for YEARS anyways), and I felt freaked.the.youknowwhat.out. One of the first thoughts that scared the youknowwhat out of me was that if I did have kids, I should have at least four, bc then the handicapped one would get taken care of by the others. WHY am I assuming I'd have a handicapped kid, like my brother? How shameful is it that I would almost not have kids just bc I would be so afraid of having one like him? You know what's interesting...My dad (who has been through WAY more than me) totally did this. He went through the humility, heart break and heart warming roller coaster that is caring for Tyler, and he went on to have two other kids, knowing either or both of them could have ended up just like Tyler. The thought makes my heart beat in my throat, and then there's the guilt from thinking it in the first place. There's a good chance that I was dead on the whole time with the kid thing, but I feel I owe it to myself to be more alive, to scrutinize my intentions.
No special ending, really....the thought is really as incomplete as it seems.

*****
Cross your fingers for me that the teaching job will come along again, though...I miss it desperately. Ironically, it is the humility, the right conditions for spiritual growith, that I love so much about teaching. I don't know if I mentioned this, but I decided not to do the social work master's and went for literacy specialist instead, which I am loving. As it turns out, and as I believe it is for many educators, teaching IS my social work. Teaching.has.my.soul. I think other jobs will probably have my soul someday, but now I know teaching is where I need to be. I truly miss it right now, in an " I could cry" sort of way. More than anything, i'm just feeling blessed to know that there is something out there that I truly love to do and that pays my bills AND leaves me feeling incredibly blessed (sometimes through clouds of stress) at the same time.

ophelia

My new favorite (always changing) musician is all around general bad-ass India Aire. If you like the message of Maya Angelou's poetic words, you might really like this. Her lyrics are absolutely spiritual...medicine for the collective soul of our culture. A message of female empowerment--that it's okay to 'just be.' I want to play it all day into the ears of American young ladies, young girls go though so much- and women, too, for that matter. Our souls are damaged, clouded by the unforgiving way our culture judges our bodies. I say I don't buy into the aesthetic pressures Western culture puts on women, the microderm abrasion, name brand clothers, but the fact is, I do...So, what I'm saying is that these lyrics- all of her lyrics- are good for my soul. I encourage anyone who hasn't to download some India. Need some help choosing? Try: I Choose, There's Hope, I Am Not My Hair, Wings of Forgiveness)

India Aire - Video Lyrics


Sometimes I shave my legs and sometimes I don't
Sometimes I comb my hair and sometimes I won't
Depend on how the wind blows I might even paint my toes
It really just depends on whatever feels good in my soul

I'm not the average girl from your video
and I ain't built like a supermodel
But, I learned to love myself unconditionally
Because I am a queen
I'm not the average girl from your video
My worth is not determined by the price of my clothes
No matter what I'm wearing I will always be the india arie

When I look in the mirror and the only one there is me
Every freckle on my face is where it's supposed to be
And I know our creator didn't make no mistakes on me
My feet, my thighs, my lips, my eyes; I'm lovin' what I see

I'm not the average girl from your video
and I ain't built like a supermodel
But, I learned to love myself unconditionally
Because I am a queen
I'm not the average girl from your video
My worth is not determined by the price of my clothes
No matter what I'm wearing I will always be the
india arie

Am I less of a lady if I don't wear pantyhose?
My mama said a lady ain't what she wears but, what she knows
But, I've drawn a conclusion, it's all an illusion, confusion's the name of the
game
A misconception, a vast deception
Something's gotta change
but,Don't be offended this is all my opinion
ain't nothing that I'm sayin law
This is a true confession of a life learned lesson I was sent here to share with
y'all
So get in where you fit in go on and shine
Clear your mind, now's the time
Put your salt on the shelf
Go on and love yourself
'Cuz everything's gonna be all right

I'm not the average girl from your video
and I ain't built like a supermodel
But, I Learned to love myself unconditionally
Because I am a queen
I'm not the average girl from your video
My worth is not determined by the price of my clothes
No matter what I'm wearing I will always be the india arie

Keep your fancy drinks and your expensive minks
I don't need that to have a good time
Keep your expensive car and your caviar
All I need is my guitar
Keep your Kristal and your pistol
I'd rather have a pretty piece of crystal
Don't need your silicone I prefer my own
What God gave me is just fine

I'm not the average girl from your video
and I ain't built like a supermodel
But, I learned to love myself unconditionally
Because I am a queen
I'm not the average girl from your video
My worth is not determined by the price of my clothes
No matter what I'm wearing I will always be india arie

we are family.

My brother came to visit a couple of weeks ago, and we all had the best time. (He's coming again this weekend) I think he had fun. We cooked out, and Tyler got to get his "roll on", rolling his wheelchair all over the courtyard; it is not usual for him to get that much freedom, one of the downfalls of a handicap like this.

Other than the fact that we refuse to live in the suburbs (you either get this or you don't), finding something that worked well for our special situation was probably the biggest factor in the apartment/community that we chose to live in. I wanted something that was obviously handicap accessible (which is not as common as you may think), and then I also wanted a really safe neighborhood where I wouldn't be worried to take him for walks alone. You might be surprised how vulnerable you feel when it's you and then a 170lb individual who is 100% wheelchair dependent. It was different when I could lift him on my own; now that he's outgrown me, not so much. I also wanted a place with a great courtyard, so that we could let him do his own thing, something he hardly ever gets to do. So, yes, we pay too much and it is a giant step up from the 300 sq ft basement apt we had back in KS, but it is worth every penny.

It is good for me, too, expands my mind some. I used to be such a judger of people who wanted conventional things (fancy schmancy cars, boob jobs), and let me tell you, my neighborhood is full of that. But, who am I to judge? Worse than any 'judgee,' I can tell you that. True, I have the most fun in like-minded company, but, like the Maya Angelou said, "We are more alike, my friends, than we are unalike." How can I want peace, yet not BE peace? "Be the change you wish to see in the world," Mahatma Gandhi said. Be the peace. Even to the plasticy ones.

Anyways, it took Tyler a long time to fall asleep. He just laid there, smiling at me when I came to check on him. Usually, I don't have him spend the night, but I believe I always will from now on because it was very special. I lay with him for awhile, and ran my fingers through his hair, like I did when we were little kids. Of course, he does not speak, but he smiles when I do this. As I've mentioned before, we were separated in childhood a couple of years after our parents divorced. The summer that it happened, we both went to visit my dad, as usual, but only I returned to Kansas. Every summer I came to visit, and leaving was the hardest thing to do. I remember my dad telling me that Tyler would wheel his chair around the house, looking for me after I had gone back home. I can't tell you how much it really felt like part of my soul was missing during that time; I was so used to him needing me, and then he was gone. He still needed me, I just wasn't there. I don't know why I felt so guilty, but it was overwhelming. I remember having dreams of his funeral, and I wasn't invited. Somewhere along the way, I healed; but it was still natural for me to come to him. I think that is just what we do for family, if they need us. Sure, it's inconvenient at times. Sure, it stands in the way of some of my dreams of running off to a lesser developed country to make my life by the beach. But, maybe the new plans, the plans that life is always throwing at us, are better than what I had invisioned in my finite mind. Like Joseph Campbell said, "We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us."

bittersweet (and not me pole dancing)

Sweet...
My brother (who is severely handicapped) graduated high school this weekend. He didn't freak the out or have a seizure from all of the flashing lights. We had a great celebration of him. No family fights, in spite of my worries of such.

Bitter...
No more place to go every day for my brother; now, he'll just stay in his group home during the day, which is a lot less enrichment.

Sweet...
He had a great visit at my house, and I had a little family gathering at my house after his graduation luncheon. Good food. Lettering on the cake turned out pretty (thanks, me!). Beautiful weather. No, BEAUTIFUL!

Bitter...
Changing my brother's "number two" daiper. Enough said.

Sweet...
Summer is almost here, and my first year of teaching is almost over...Which means that the main  reason I moved here (to hang out with my brother) can finally get some real attention.

Sweet...
My brother, who seems that he can "give" nothing back. This, if we let it, teaches us much more about life & love than if he could do more. My journey to understanding, when it comes to my brother, has been long; honestly, it has been very painful. The peace and blessings on the other side of the journey have far outweighed all of the pain. Some people's brothers stand up for them, support them, advise them. My brother teaches with silence. With dirty diapers and even drool.

Bittersweet...
Tyler's graduation
dark chocolate
family
wine
love
friendships
life
...all the good things.


Now, I need to go throw up, because I sound like a greeting card. Again.

green minus yellow = faye

I'm blue.

I am one of those people who surprises others with how well I react to misfortune...for example, when smoke started coming out of my car on my way to an interview this weekend, I just smiled and looked into it. Don't sweat what you can't control, right? So, I lost my air conditioner. Who cares, right? I showed up sweaty but confident. When I got to this interview that I spent 9 hours driving to and unlimited hours preparing for only to find that the position had been filled earlier that week & so I was interviewing for a position on a waiting list, I said, "well, at least I gained experience." When, on the way home, the clutch in my little (much loved) car gave way and the car coasted along to the side of I35, where it stopped indefinitely- and where I, my husband, our dog & our cat would wait the next 4.5 hours for our family to come from KS and rescue us, I said, "at least our car died next to a meadow!"

I am one of those people who surprises others with how well I react to misfortune...or how well it seems that I react to misfortune. Enter Monday. Enter boughts of laughing and crying at the same time. Enter re-playing the same Friends DVD over and over. Enter emotional eating. Enter grumpy uber-psycho, Faye.

No car. No great new job. No money.

I'm blue.

I know. I know. My perspective is jacked. I will return to normal Faye, somewhere in between the creepy plastered smile when everything is going wrong and the even more disturbing fits of simultaneous laughter/tears.

Somewhere in here, I decided to share a quote that I stole from my once ex friend, Jenn. It is nice not to have an ex friend anymore...especially if I continue to get a stream of inspirational material like the following...

It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

By Marianne Williamson
from A Return To Love: Reflections on
the Principles of A Course in Miracles