August 28: Taking It In and Protection from Onslaught

Interesting.   On Tuesday, I was feeling pretty good.  After my work day yesterday, I was feeling not so good.  As I reflected on what had happened, I realized that I had not protected myself psychically from the onslaught of work with all of its energy, walls, and dead ends.  Shall we talk about a few of the good things first?

I was at the Great River Folk Festival in La Crosse, WI, where folk music is celebrated and artists show and sell 

their creations.  Several years ago, I had seen a wooden music stand that was beautiful - and I wanted one.  It was too expensive for me at the time.  However, this year, someone had given me a monetary gift in celebration of my birthday and the attainment of my clinical doctoral degree and my birthday.  I had enough to get the music stand - if the vendor/artist was there.

He was there.  There were two styles of stands - one was $190 and the other was $160.  Both were gorgeous.  I went with the $160 one - graceful lines and curves - and would suit my needs.  I took it back to the music tent and sat down.  As I settled into waiting for the next musical act, I realized that I was feeling uneasy.  I continued to sit with this "unease," and finally realized the cause: I had not purchased the music stand that I truly wanted, because of the extra $30 in price.  The one I wanted was even MORE beautiful, with even MORE graceful lines.  Even as the

music holder was raised, it curved up toward me, as if reaching out to help me see the music better.  Short story:  I went back to the booth, traded in what I had just purchased for one that I TRULY wanted, paid the extra $30, and went back to the music tent with my new music stand.  The uneasiness was gone.

This was a radical thing for me to do.  In my life $30 is a lot of money.  However, as I tended to what my heart truly wanted, I had respected myself.  That small outward physical manifestation resulted in a huge inward shift.  I am at peace, and so totally pleased and delighted with the work of art I purchased for myself.  Absolutely delighted.

Other things that happened: as I have sat with what it means to respect myself, I have been processing many memories of my past.  The kicker is that I am realizing that there were times when someone had reached out to me - had loved me and gifted me at just the right time - but I had been unable to take it in.  

Now, those memories are opening up like Christmas presents that have been abandoned for years.  The gifts are still fresh inside, and no less meaningful.  When I open them, I am amazed at the love and presence that comes my way.  And while I did process some of the "good stuff" back in the day - I have a visceral memories of not taking in those good feelings in their entirety.  I couldn't, then.  But I can, now.  And it's good.  

I have searched for one of these people - Walter K. Walter - my English teacher my junior and senior year in high school, and one of my staunchest supporters.  I knew I loved him

then, and have continued to love him for years, though I've not seen him since I was 19.  It is only recently that I have been able to take in his love for me.  It's enough for me to approach Oprah about a TV show with a theme of finding people who have made a difference in our lives, and thanking them.  I want to be the first episode.  Mr. Walter - if you are out there - know that your gifts to me surpassed even your awareness.  Over 40 years later, your presence in my life is keenly felt.  Thank you.

So, with this open heart, I entered my work week - the first week back after the summer.  I did well the first two days.  I was able to energetically protect myself, move forward, get work completed.  Yesterday, though, was difficult.  My morning started out well, as I was able to go walking/running for the first time in weeks.  Over the course of the day, though, I had the realization of how much work there is to be done this semester.  

I will be receiving overload pay for my extra teaching - but it does not seem like a fair energetic exchange (in picture to the right, my health and well being is getting shrifted).  I also realized - for the umpteenth time - that my work environment will not support me growing in the direction that I think I am supposed to be growing.  I am told that I will never be considered as tenurable, given that I have a clinical doctorate rather than a PhD.  I am told this without any review of the work and research I have done to date - and, much less, without even a simple question such as "So what did you look at?  What did you find?  How might it influence our field or your future work?" - from the powers that be.  


Wonderful!  Note to Reader: that was Sarcasm.  I am naive and trusting.  I know that discrimination is alive and well.  I guess I didn't believe that it would happen at an institution of higher learning, where there is a department for Campus Inclusiveness, along with initiatives to decrease the

discrimination felt on campus.  I never expected it at this level:  Deborah, your initials will be considered before any consideration of your work and/or your abilities.  How naive of me to think that a clinical doctoral degree, along with the research and work I am doing, would allow me to be viewed in any sort of equal light.  And this, folks, is what took the wind out of my sails - this is what I had not protected myself against…that the five years I have spent obtaining my doctoral degree makes no difference to my employer.  None.  What.  So.  Ever.  At least this is the story from my supervisor.  

I am sitting with the decision about whether to approach my Dean and/or the Provost.  But I have to decide whether I have the energy and time, and if I do, then I will need to be prepared, organized, and clear in both my heart and head.  This decision - or not - to move up the administrative ladder with these concerns, will take some thought.

And in light of my recent query, I have to ask: Am I

respecting myself by staying in a place where I will have to fight to grow into the directions and space that my doctoral training has opened up?  I'm not so sure.  Are there other places that will support my growth into myself, and the work that seems to be asking to be addressed?

There is a voice that says, "Let this season.  Notice it, Little One, but take no action yet.  Listen for your next steps."  

It also says, "Gather yourself; Listen for your next steps; Act with Right Action; Direction will come."

And so I will.

Stop.      Wait.       

And I am going to add: Act in Right Action when it is time.

As Mary Oliver states, in her poem about trees,

"...and you too have come into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled with light, and to shine."

Photo obtained on 8/28/2014 at http://onebigphoto.com/uploads/2013/04/sun-rays-shining-through-trees.jpg.  It was taken by Michael Woloszynowicz.

Postscript:  I am noticing that, while this picture appears in the "preview," it does not seem to consistently appear in the actual published entry.  If you can't see it, I encourage you to go to the url and view this gorgeous pic by Michael Woloszynowicz.

August 23: Respect and "Hoverance"...

The Quakers talk about "sitting with" something…it means holding it closely, whatever "it" is, and waiting for guidance from Spirit.  When we hold an issue like this, over time, and the answer does not seem quite threshed out, we say that we are "letting it season."  This means  waiting for something to come to clarity before moving forward.

Here is the query that I've been sitting with:  Self-Respect.  What does it mean, to Respect myself?  Truly.  Madly.  Deeply.  What does it look like in everyday life?  For some reason, this has been an easier concept to wrap my mind around than Loving myself.  I'm not sure why - and let's not let the pondering about the "why's" distract me from the main event: What does it look like to Respect myself in all of my thoughts and actions throughout my day?

Here's what I'm discovering: I don't think that I'm so good at it.  Here's a simple example: in an earlier post I talked about radical self-care, which might include, as a simple example, going to the bathroom when my body needs to go, rather than holding it so that I could just "finish the one last thought" or task or whatever.  I have watched myself sit and continue to type the almighty thoughts while one or both of my feet were up on their toes and back to the floor, quickly bouncing one or both legs frantically while trying to keep the pee inside me.  How respectful is that of my body?  Of my kidneys?  Of my poor old worn out bladder that rests on my barely functioning pelvic floor?  I'd venture to say, "Not much."

And when I sit at my desk for hours at a time, drawn deliciously into whatever it is I'm working on, sitting, sitting, sitting…all caught up in my thoughts…what am I respecting?  Well, I'm respecting my thoughts…perhaps my mind, and whatever journey it has drawn the rest of me into.  Am I respecting my body?  No.  Not much.  Am I respecting my mind?  Well, it seems so.  But am I, really?  

And when I loll around in bed, when I know I have a 10-mile long list that needs doing, what am I respecting?  Who am I respecting?  You see, it gets very, very tricky.  I may be respecting that I and my body are tired, and need a rest. 

Or, am I?  What if that lolling is a trick of my mind that is merely supporting me from doing what needs doing?  What if something on that list really, really needs doing - and completing that task is in my highest good?  Is it respecting myself if I don't get it done?  Probably not.  

Tricky.  Yes, indeed.  My mind is a strange and beautiful thing.  Everyone's mind is, quite honestly.

Here is what I am coming to, after "sitting with" some notes I found…I had taken them at a workshop for women who were striving for balance and centeredness in their everyday life.    


Action undertaken with our mind only, 
  will wear itself out, in the long run.  

Our hearts can act as a wonderful advisory board.  

Ensuring that we use the advisory board is truly in our best interest.  

Mind and heart - 

working together - 

     will be what sustains our actions

                  in the long run.

  

A friend asked, "Heart….or Spirit?"  He was not trying to parse words.  I could feel what he was saying, although I'm not sure that I could explain it here with words.  That one will need to season a little bit.  

Currently, the query is:  

And how do I respect myself on an on-going basis, throughout my everyday life?  

I think, for now, it comes down to asking that question daily, perhaps hourly, perhaps even minute by minute, and then taking some time to sit and wait for an answer.  This act, in and of itself, is respectful to myself.  Expectful waiting, attentive listening for Divine Guidance, so that my head has time to run whatever "it" is past the Advisory Board in my Heart before I move forward, seems profoundly respectful.  

But what about decisions that need to be made now?  Well, I think I take a breath in, and quickly say, "OK, God, this is a fast one.  If you've got something to say, say it now, say it quickly."  If I get a clear answer, Fantastic!  If I don't, then I say, "OK.  I can't hear you right now, for whatever reason.  Please, hover over me while I move forward, doing the best I can do, with what I've got, at this point in time.  Hover over me."  And then, I do the best I can.  And then it's done.  My mom used to say "Period!  End of Report!"  I like that.

Or what about when the information comes so quickly - and there's so much of it - yada-yada-yada - that it's hard to   

sort through?  Some of it may pertain to the issue at hand…some of it may be superfluous…and perhaps I may feel that the decision has more importance than it really does?  The Buddhists would probably agree with the "importance" thing, i.e., not so important, all illusion, etc.

It seems like the little path outlined in the preceding paragraph would work in this instance as well.  

Stop.  Wait.  Listen. 

And if there's not an answer forthcoming in the present moment when an answer is needed, then ask for a blessing, pray for "hoverance," and move forward.  

Stop. Wait. Listen.  

I'm not sure that there's a better way to be.  At least, that's what's coming to this hovered, lucky duck, right here, right now.

I'm going to leave you with a song that is both beautiful and beautifully performed.  I re-found it on my Bookmarks Bar, and I am so happy that I did.  It is a song by Susan Werner, and performed by Red Molly.  

May I suggest this is the best part of your life?

balanced rocks: http://thirdeyeactivation.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/06/7tipsmeditation.jpg

holding pee:  http://www.shirisarfati.com/wp-content/uploads/holding-pee-e1394649097646.jpg
heart of fire: http://www.jewishlordswitness.com/sitebuildercontent/sitebuilderpictures/Heart_of_Fire.jpg
question: http://thumbs.dreamstime.com/z/question-mark-22537418.jpg
mirror illusion: http://s3.amazonaws.com/thumbnails.illustrationsource.com/huge.7.35225.JPG
Red Molly, May I Suggest: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7kbvTPlYgNw

August 16th: Succumbed...

Some sort of bug has been working away at giving my innards a good washing out.  The only blessing so far is that nothing has come or is coming out my ears or mouth.  If I had fluids coming out of every single one of the orifices of my body, I'm not sure I could stand it.  

And then, there's the indecision:  Do I eat now?  Or wait and see?  should I drink More?  Must stay hydrated, must stay hydrated, must stay hydrated.  However, the 32 ounces of

Pedialyte went through my system faster than anything else I'd put down it.  One really sleepless night: up every hour beginning at 2 and ending at around 7; the next night I made it through until 4, and then 5.  Last night, I made it through until 6, and then laid back down until 8.  It does seem to be getting better.  Today, only my tears and the occasional nose-blow have been leaking, with my gut seeming to vacillate between moving profusely and not moving at all.  And then there's the question: is this related to the lymphoma?  Maybe one of the tumors has grown and now it's obstructing something - and only letting water and small particles through?  Or what about the Alleve I was taking for my sprained anterior tibialis injury?  Is it a side affect of that?    

Now, this poor, tired, worn out body is limping, and on red alert to run to the bathroom if needed, craving some food, and hesitant to put anything into itself for fear of what will happen.  So I drink water with frankincense (it's supposed to be a good essential oil for cancer), and I cross my fingers and hope for the best.  That's all we can do sometimes, yes?  Hope for the best?

In a better moment, I concentrate and meditate and hope that everything that is coming out of my body holds the hate and fear that is in Missouri.  I use H'o'oponopono: I am sorry.  Please forgive me.  I love you (see July 23rd post).  Thank you for showing me this…that lasts for a couple minutes, and sometimes a little longer.  Then I'm back to 

simply letting my body do what it needs to do, and me rolling my eyes at myself as I try to turn something that is physically revolting and smelly into a "spiritual occurrence."  Really, Deborah?  Is the cancer in your brain, too?  Wait…don't EVEN GO there!

And I did not not stop my life.  Couldn't if I wanted to.  Saw some excellent friends and walked their land.  They didn't care if I was spilling the interior of my guts.  They didn't

blink an eye at the laundry I needed to wash out and hang on their shower railing.  Walking through their woods with them was glorious.  I took myself out to a really good restaurant for supper.  I bravely ate something that spoke to me, and ate the rest of it for lunch today.  So far, so good.  I stuffed toilet paper into all of the places that were most likely to need it, and attended a Village Harmony choral concert,

where teenagers from across the country were sharing the music they had learned during a week where they sang all day, and then cooked, ate, and kept house a little in between the singing.  It was amazing.  My concert companion said, "At one point, I didn't 

know if it was me or the bench I was sitting on that was vibrating."  During that same piece, the music reached in and pulled at me so strongly that I literally had to put my hand over my mouth to keep from crying out.  Instead, I sat there and sobbed with my hand over my mouth.  Even as I describe it, I am once again feeling those feelings.  Pure, utter, glorious, joy.  I'm not sure that the music has released me yet.  The power of music will always hold me in its grip.

Today, I've been moving very slowly…took my daughter shopping for needed clothing; pulled my things to be unpacked into my room so that they would not be obvious to her guests that have come over for a fire and S'mores and company.  And I'm aware that I need to make something for tomorrow's farewell potluck for one of my Quaker friends - and there's no time to do that tomorrow morning.  It must be done tonight.  Not sure what it will be.  Some sort of kale-pasta-garlic creation is dropping into my mind.  And I'm

aware that I am getting very close to beginning a list.  Stop.   Raise your hands, and step away---from the list.   



And - I am dreaming of having a live-in cook.  Someone who would plan and cook at least 5 dinners a week, with some left overs to have for lunch.  I wonder if someone would consider living in my house for free, and cooking 5 dinners a 

night.  I'd buy the food.  They could eat the dinners, too.  They'd only need to get their own food for breakfast and lunches and weekends.  Would that be a good deal?  It would sooooo make my life easier.  Well.  The intention has been stated.  

And I'm feeling some sort of satisfying evil about choosing the "Trebuchet" font.  There is something about using a font that has the same name as a medieval weapon that appeals to me.  Take that, Church Lady.  



I am feeling as if I should be writing some sort of mind-blowing, wise, well-thought-out something or other, but since I am letting go of "should's," what I've written is what I get.  I've checked in with myself, and 

….even when it's not.

Right now, though, we can go with the "well thing."

Images

bug:  http://nolanwebdev.com/nwdimages/bug.jpg

indecision: http://cdn-6.livelighter.org/wp-content/uploads/2008/08/i-dont-know.jpg
fingers crossed:  http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WO0qcp2Ts6E/U71K7HPo7fI/AAAAAAAAC1I/NYf4Fxpu-AI/s1600/fingers-crossed1.png
church lady: http://lavandearomatherapy.files.wordpress.com/2013/11/church-lady.jpg
love my friends: http://www.printedclothing.com/shack/contents/media/l_pc2021%20i%20love%20my%20friends.jpg
toilet paper: http://static2.consumerreportscdn.org/content/dam/cro/products/toilet_paper/buying_lg_toilet_paper.jpg
music head: http://boosterland.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/11/Small.jpg
no list: http://www.timedebtevent.com/images/no_more_lists.jpg
cook: http://cdn.theatlantic.com/static/mt/assets/hua_hsu/gordon_blais_post.jpg
trebuchet: http://transformerstrebuchet.pbworks.com/f/1268691491/20080907155223!Trebuchet_Scheme.png
all is well: http://rlv.zcache.co.uk/all_is_well_quote_postcards-re73ec6cb3fe2492d8f0f438f9b941cac_vgbaq_8byvr_324.jpg

August 12th: The Things that are Not Blessings - But Probably Are Anyway

Well, well, well…here I am again.  I began this blog entry as if it were a report of where I've been for the last several days.  I just deleted about 3-4 paragraphs.  Who am I writing "to" and "for" anyway?  For me.  At least that was the idea when I began this spot.  

Doing "more of what brings me pleasure and less of what doesn't," is proving to be a very difficult practice.  My life just seems so very full - probably because it is.  The job itself has many things that need doing.  In fact, some of them needed doing last June.  They still need doing.  I don't want to do them.  I can't seem to convince my mind that, on some level, they will - or even "may" -  be pleasurable.  I could just do them…..you know, how sometimes in life you have to just do things even when you don't wanna?  Well, that is running up against the "do more of what brings me pleasure and less of what doesn't" idea.  In theory, it sounds good.  In fact, it sounds like right action - like what is essential.  My habits for many years, however, run counter to this "more pleasure" idea.  It's not that I don't want to do things that bring me pleasure.  It seems that my job, my kids, the doctoral thing - well, my life - makes demands that need meeting.

I've recently discovered the difference between my "work" and my "job."  The latter is that thing that I do for money.  The former is what I think I am supposed to be doing on this planet.  

Here's the problem:  there is so much to my job that it is interfering with my work.  Let me say that again:  there is so much to my "job" that it gets in the way of my "work," and I'm not sure what to do about that.

You see - with this LYMPHOMA thing - I'm feeling a strong pull to get down to the business of living…of engaging in the work that I came into this incarnation to do.  While I'm not completely sure of what that is, I am feeling more sure of what it is not.  And that's movement in a good direction…at least, it seems like it is.

So, does one just get THE LIST (and yes, caps are intentional) done, and then get on with the "good" stuff once the THE LIST is done?  Hardly.  The list either gets longer, or, minimally, maintains itself at a set level…just like a toilet bowl…and the comparison is not lost on me, I'm telling you.  

I read some notes from a workshop I attended on "MOVE-ing into my life (http://move-as-one.com).  I found something in the notes.  I'll do my best to get them down here - as the notebook has disappeared.  I'm struck by how some nuggets of wisdom come easily and are there when you need them, and others we have to fight to hold onto - but I digress.  Heres what I found:  Often times we move into action, driven by our thoughts.  However, thought to action - without going through the heart - can be troublesome in the long run.  It's as if we have this wonderful advisory board in the heart, that could help guide and support our head (thoughts), but we by-pass it because the action, for whatever reason, seems imperative and exigent - i.e., no heart time.  Yes.  I "get" this.  Getting THE LIST done has been the goal, and moving from one thing to the next has been a way of life.  This is what absolutely has to change in my life.  Absolutely must change……"ABSOLUTELY!" she said emphatically, and in case she didn't hear herself the first time.  

So, I sit in waiting worship  every morning with a couple of major Quaker F(f)fiends in my spiritual nurture group (waiting worship - not quite meditation, but it looks like it from the outside).  I am trying to build in "waiting and 

listening" time throughout my day.  What is my next best action?  What does my heart say?  What is my essence?  Who am I beyond what I think I am?  And how can I take better care of this "body temple" in which my wonderful spirit lives?

Wait….is this on THE LIST?  Is there time for it?  What's the next thing on THE LIST?…I'm not sure that I have time to spend on this right now…...and there's the rub.  My mind has a habit of only allowing, and then doing, things on THE LIST - which has been made up by itself.  It has not consulted my heart, or my body, about is truly essential.

Adyashanti (http://www.adyashanti.org), a teacher in the Zen Buddhist tradition, would say that the soul/sole purpose in his teachings is to "wake us up," and then to help us move forward after we have "awakened."  I am such a baby at this.  I only know that I must "wake up."  And I'm slowly moving forward in that process.  There are so many habits to change - especially in my thinking and what goes on THE LIST first - or maybe I need to move in the direction of making an uncapitalized "list…."  Maybe I prioritize "me first" on the list.

Today?  Huge insight.  I realized that I have feelings of anxiousness - and probably have had them on a regular basis.  THE LIST has kept me from noticing them and/or identifying the feelings as "anxious" - I've just gone onto the next thing, get 'er done, get 'er done, get 'er done….Quite honestly, I think the anxiety about THE LIST is going to be so much easier to work with than THE LIST, itself - at least in theory.  It can at least be a warning sign that THE LIST may be running things rather than Spirit.  Not a good sign.  THE LIST = anxiety = stress = steroids made by and in my body = food for lymphoma.  The diet has to change.

WAIT!  It's not "the list," itself (un-caps intended).  It's the way I think about THE LIST that has kept me in "driven" mode.  Anyway, "doing the list" and how I "think"

about THE LIST has kept me from taking time to recognize, see, and feel the anxiety.  It also keeps me from taking time for myself...from doing more spiritual contemplation...from exercise that I love…from allowing myself time for joy and my heart's desires...from realizing who I am and what I REALLY need to do next.  

Adyashanti might say that it's all - including my thinking - a dream, an illusion.  My dad (the forever Flat-Top) says that "Life is all a matter of establishing priorities…which are constantly changing."  Doesn't matter.  I suck at both.  My patterns of thinking - or "not" thinking - have let what is outside of me establish the priorities, without giving Spirit,  my heart, my self-care, and my spiritual nurturance a voice.  This is not to discount all that I 

have done during the last 10-plus years.  Life has truly made demands on me, and I - like the competent trooper that I am - rose to the occasion.  I don't know that I would make different decisions were I to go back in time and live it again.  AND, the time to make different decisions has begun.  Hats off to the lymphoma.  A friend today said, "It's sort of like an unwanted blessing.  "Blessing" - agreed.  "Not wanted" - sort of agreed.  Something needed to catch my attention.  

My out-laws have another name for it: AFGO.  This is an abbreviation for "Another F**king Growth Opportunity."  On my best days, the "L" is truly a blessing - truly.  On my worst days, it is an AFGO.  On my really worst days, I lounge around in the Pity Room - and, truth be known - some of the best healing I can give myself happens in the Pity Room.  You see, it starts out as "Woe is Me," but transforms into empathy for myself, forgiveness for myself, love for myself.  My loving inner parent begins crooning to me.  "You poor, poor girl.  Let me hold you…cry your eyes out…yes, life sucks right now…it's damn horrible…I know you feel pissy and you hate people right now…and you can't feel any of the love that anyone has for you…yes, nobody loves you, everybody hates you, and you want to eat worms - although I wouldn't advise it.  Give it some time - but right now, let it out, girlfriend…just let it out," and on and on and on.   Pretty soon, I'm feeling much better.  I'm sorry.  Please forgive me.  I love you.  Thank you.  And, at some point in the process, I feel loved again.

I would love it if someone could stand to sit with me during that entire process - but it can be difficult.  When one is a witness, one wants to do something - anything - to stop the hurting for the person one witnesses.  Lord knows sometimes I can barely stand to be with myself in that space.  However,  there is always movement - at least in my life.  It may not be in the time frame that is on "THE LIST," but it truly does pass. 

Bearing witness to such movement without trying to fix anything or sharing wise maxims, is one of the most grace-filled and helpful gifts one might ever give.  And if there is no one around to give this sort of gift to you, you can pay people to do it:  massage therapists, acupuncturists, therapists - you name it.  These days, I seem to be finding it easier to pay someone to sit with me than I do to sit with myself - I simply have no energy when I'm in the Pity Room.  This is a good sign, I think: Spending money on myself in this manner is a great, great gift to myself…no doubt about it.  And, in their kind actions toward me, they provide role modeling for what I need to give myself: slowing down and bearing witness to myself. That's the hardest part - giving to myself what I would lovingly, freely, and abundantly give to others.  It's just not on THE LIST.


Tonight, I have clean sheets on my bed, but I think I may go pitch the tent in the back yard.  I've not been outside as much as I would like - and this blasted new "anterior tibialis tendon inflammation" is preventing me from running and hiking.  Sooooo - maybe I'll take my hammock out to Goose Island in the next few days and just tie it to a couple of trees and read.  And just when I had gotten the exercise habit started…dammit.

Maybe some other day I will share all of the blessings that happened in the last few weeks - Performing (with 230 plus women in a premier concert hall) a song I composed… camping with my niece, Ali, on an island affectionately known as "The Rock," and feeling like, maybe, after all, I do belong in my family...spending time with my mother-out-law, Sandra... - but there will be none of that now.  Not tonight.  No Moleste.  As Tig might say, if you want some of that you'll have to try a couple of doors down.




Images

Balance Guy:  https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqpts7-QkC6prmWI8QLR536BpqfKD01OSwh8vD__3MEdXq7gAjJkJaFFpDS14QoNkeKL5fcA7WPVbWnGa6kmMiAds0TwZrrj1GO_H6dzuhyphenhyphenu2XU6SIElITB5sWRQjMn0ehNv9IJxYE15g/s320/433759-Royalty-Free-RF-Clipart-Illustration-Of-A-Stick-Businessman-Standing-On-An-Unbalanced-Scale.jpg

Dollar Sign: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_yQ87EsfWw2kHEnqk2eNAd06jekXX7yu7tDUx4Dl72KfzKni-YF-7OMg_fCg8LQZJgBipwUL9sWQaSagpqoRwq_kcEX3Drvlj2wS-1Oc-44ZNauL91h9OhE1_9CjRXymOC2SxIVz0cTQ/s1600/Dollar_Sign_web.jpg

woman pushing puzzle piece: http://www.3dcart.com/images/3du/Amazon-Shopping-Cart-Order-Fulfillment.jpg

Woman with many arms: http://s3.amazonaws.com/thumbnails.illustrationsource.com/huge.8.44714.JPG

Waiting Worship: http://blogs.courant.com/photo/20110617Quakers001980.jpg

Adyashanti: http://www.adyashanti.org/images/home_pic.gif

dead horse: http://img.sparknotes.com/content/sparklife/sparktalk/auntie052713deadhorse_LargeWide.png

bird: http://img.sparknotes.com/content/sparklife/sparktalk/auntie052713deadhorse_LargeWide.png

wave: http://www.human-inquiry.com/JPwavesblue1.jpg

hammock: http://www.urbangeneralstore.com/shop/media/catalog/product/cache/1/image/9df78eab33525d08d6e5fb8d27136e95/3/2/3227_mermaids_card_2.jpg

July 22nd: Francis Bacon, Ho'oponopono and Other Teachers

(P.S. written later: the formatting in this post has been a pain in the ass.  Please forgive the large spaces between paragraphs, and the sentences that looked fine on the draft, but were catiwampus when published. -dd)

Francis Bacon:  A long-time friend had a quote by Francis Bacon on the wall in a health food store he used to own.  I'm pretty sure it was only the first line of the quote you see here, as that was all he shared with me over the phone a day or so ago.  It fits.  This new accident in my body has something to teach me.  Quite honestly?  I never

expected my present path to be validated by Francis Bacon - who'd'a thunk it? - but I am grateful to Michael who shared it with me.  What can it tell me, this new accident in my body?

"Getting with" the "I feel health/I have cancer  thing" is quite the journey.  It can be difficult to understand, sometimes, this "non-dualism" that exists beyond the good and bad, the just and unjust.  Wrapping my mind around the "all is one" thing feels so accurate, and so easy, yet so difficult.  It's that wonderful paradoxical thing - again - you know, where I think, the Divine resides.  So this lymphoma is of me - and not me.  What can it tell me?  So far, all messages have been good.  When I told Michael something I'd written earlier, i.e., the cancer may just save my life, he replied that, well, it would provide me the opportunity to save my life.  Details, details…and yet there is power in words.  However it translates to English, I am grateful to have this opportunity that has been provided…truly…madly…deeply...

So, the non-dualism thing.  There is a belief out there that we are all connected - everything.  Supposedly, theoretical physics supports this.  There are pieces of me in every encounter that I have, pleasant or unpleasant.  There isn't a "good" and a "bad," but everything lumped in together.  Billy Jonas speaks to this in his song "This We Know" (http://www.billyjonas.com/index.php?page=songs&category=Get_Real_-oparen-for_adult-slash-general_audiences-cparen-&display=101) in which he addresses the miracles and catastrophes that we have performed, and are, as humans.  There is something about owning whatever pieces I have in me that can be or act in unjust ways, even though perhaps unknowingly, that is powerful.  Loving that which is difficult to like, much less difficult to love, is a challenge - especially when injustice is so flagrant.  I also find it challenging in relation to cutting myself a break, i.e., owning the more challenging stuff - yet reluctant to celebrate all that is good and holy and beautiful inside me.  It is in these difficult situations that I have found the Ho'oponopono prayer helpful.  There are four simple sentences:  "I'm Sorry.  Please Forgive Me.  I Love You. Thank You."  

Please forgive my feeble attempt to explain this.  I've misplaced my booklet (a $10 purchase which has already paid for itself, and please don't let that stuff in the title about "life's fulfillment" put you off: http://www.amazon.com/Hooponopono-Hawaiian-Forgiveness-Ritual-Fulfillment/dp/1844095975/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1406121155&sr=1-1&keywords=ho%27oponopono).  

It's really simple at its heart:  Whenever I run up against a difficult situation, I do my best to get to my heart space, from which I apologize for my piece of whatever is going on, and ask forgiveness.  Then I state my willingness to acknowledge the expression of the Divine in them through Love (with a capital "L" - the Universal kind, the kind from the Source), and then express gratitude for bringing this situation to my attention.  Here is a kicker, and maybe the hardest part: I let it go.  Surrender.  Very simple, yet difficult, especially in relation to forgiving myself.  When I read the section in my little book on self-love I cried like there was no tomorrow.  Yep.  I'd say that there's some

things to work through here, most likely at some deep, dark level that hasn't seen the light of day for awhile - if ever.  No biggie.  The time is now.  I am so very grateful for this opportunity. I am a Lucky Duck.

So - loving myself.  Forgiving myself for not showing up and being there more fully for myself;  for the inability to expect more or ask for more from those with whom I was/am engaged in relationship; for allowing others, in the name of compassion, to trespass on my goodness (see Pema Chrodin on Idiot Compassion: http://www.shambhala.org/teachers/pema/qa5.php);  for not knowing;  for my inability to see more clearly;  for neglecting myself in food, exercise, sleep, and love;  for holding onto that "pee" for 15 minutes more to finish that last paragraph, instead of getting up and walking to the bathroom when my body needed to go (um…excuse me for a few minutes, please).  

I'm sorry.  Please forgive me.  I love you.  Thank you.  And with that "Thank You," I let it go, go, go, repeating as often as is necessary until it is done, done, done - or until I'm bored and/or can't stand it anymore.  If the latter happens, I let that go, and trust that all will be well eventually - indeed, all is well now.    

I'm gathering people to be on my "resource team" in this "listening-to-Spirit-and-Body" think I'm doing these days.  I emailed one of them that I was going to do more of what brought me pleasure, and less of what didn't. 

The next email I received from him asked me this:  And what have you done today in support of that goal?  Whew!  Excellent!  

He took me to task!  

Today, so far, I sat and bounced on my gymnastic ball, sat in worship with my Spiritual Nurture Buddies, and wrote in this blog…you know…celebrated some of my "good stuff."  More fun to come...

Francis Bacon: http://izquotes.com/quotes-pictures/quote-despise-no-new-accident-in-your-body-but-ask-opinion-of-it-there-is-a-wisdom-in-this-beyond-francis-bacon-288801.jpg
Ho-oponopono book:  http://cdn.omtimes.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/hooponopono-book.jpg
lucky duck: http://www.easleys.com/ProductImages/mascottcostumes/22049%20luckyduck.jpg

July 20th: I'm Melting...

Early on, there were only three of us.  Then we gladly added a fourth.  We have agreed to "nurture" each other "spiritually."  We live in different towns, in two different states. Google Maps tells me that if I drove in a circle from one house to the next, to the next, to the next, and back home, it would take me 2 hours and 37 minutes to travel the 127 miles.  That doesn't count the visiting.  When we have the time to meet in person, we do so - sometimes at my centrally located house.  We started a grand experiment some weeks back: We are meeting virtually for an hour on Sunday mornings, at 8 am.  Although we were initially resistant, we are finding that it is a good thing.

I realized this morning, as I sat down to wait in silence with these F(f)fiends, that they have become my tribe, and that I rely on them in a way that I couldn't have imagined.  I'm realizing that relying on others is something that I'm still learning.  My path so far has given me many gifts, one of which is self-reliance - and many of my experiences would never have happened had I not been alone and/or relying on myself.  One of my most favorite encounters was with a woman in Florence, Italy, at the end of a day.  As I sat on the edge of a grocer's stoop, I ate my supper of bread, cheese, and beer, and watched the vendors at a flea market pack up their wares.  Out of

nowhere came this older woman, wearing a longish, colorful skirt, smiling, and talking to me as if she thought I understood what she was saying.  She wore glasses.  Her brown hair was graying.  She never stopped talking, and I finally realized what she was telling me:  I should not be feeding my newly bought, fresh bread to the pigeons; instead, I needed to cross the street, take the old bread that the shop keeper had thrown out, and feed THAT to the birds.  She proceeded to do just that, the whole time laughing to me and talking, and me smiling and nodding and waving back to her.  At one point, she twinkled her eyes at me and said what I think was the Italian equivalent of "Watch this!"  She turned up the street, and threw out bits of bread until all of the pigeons were in front of her.  Then, she slyly turned her back on them and looked down the street in the opposite direction, and threw out a handful of bread bits.  We both howled and whooped as she was suddenly engulfed in a cloud of flying pigeons rushing around to her other side to eat the bread she had thrown.  We both laughed!  It was wonderful!  After she ran out of bread, she waved me goodbye, and was on her way.  That encounter was so genuine, that I was approached by someone shortly after she left, who spoke to me in rapid Italian.  I smiled and said, "No capisce."  "Ah," he replied in English.  "But you were speaking with the woman…"  Yes, I was - but not in any language that has words in it.  That is the kind of up-close encounter that I love, that feeds me, and which usually is hard pressed to find a home in a group setting.

Now, it grows close to the culmination of my 59th year on this planet - which means that I am beginning my 60th.  One of the things I am understanding is that my self-reliance has brought me here in good steed and with many gifts, - and that very little practice in asking for and receiving gifts (from others who are a more regular part of my life than a chance encounter in a flea market), has come with it.  As wonderful and untradeable as my moments have been, I am feeling a leading towards learning about "connection," and what that means.  And in that connection, there is the implicit - yet not widely discussed - idea of showing up for one's self, connecting with one's self,  as well.  "Time for lessons in connection,"  a voice is saying.  "Radical acceptance, self-care and love, beginning with you."  I think it's about showing up for myself in ways that I have not yet learned to - and doing so within a community.  There is also something about boundaries - about expecting my community to be there, and trusting that it will be there.  I think it's also about accepting and receiving nourishment from others as part of a deepening connection.  Scary? Yes.  Disappointments?  Possibly.  Risky?  Without a doubt - at least for me.  However, I've not balked at these sorts of life lessons before, nor am I now.  I am just a "get 'er done" kind of gal. You see, with the self-reliance came a sizable portion of tenacity - another good quality.  And, as I write that last word - "tenacity" - I am wondering if it serves me well in this situation.  Perhaps a better word might be "melting."

Melting into what is? Melting into who I am, warts, lymphoma, miracles, and all…letting go of all things that are unnecessary to my continuing evolution, and embracing all manner of things that will support it.  Perhaps tenaciously melting? 

Christians might say "Seek ye first the kingdom of God" or "Ask, and ye shall receive."  Zen Buddhists might say "Leap and the net will appear."  Scarlet O'Hara might say "I'll think about it tomorrow, for tomorrow is another day."  Some Hawaiians might say, "I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I love you.  Thank you for bringing this to me."  The wicked witch of the west might say "Surrender Dorothy."  Yep.  All of the above.

This morning, during our time together, I found myself asking my spiritual nurture buddies to consider meeting on a more regular basis than Sunday mornings only.  Might there be a way - for some of us or all of us - to meet for 10 or 15 minutes or more a day?  And, then, from one of my homies: "I had a query for us that I was going to ask: What do we need to continue our spiritual growth?  Deborah, it seems like you have already answered it."

So, someone was already asking the question, and I "heard" it - and answered it -  even before the question was put into its physical form so that all of our "ears" could actually, physically, hear it.  That's some profound spiritual shit - some "capisce" on a different level.  And I was in a group - not a flea market.  Hm.  Connection, indeed.

                                 Melt away, Deborah…melt away.

There is a meditation I have learned that uses roses to energetically cleanse one's body.  Roses seemed like good things to have with this post.  For more on the woman from whom I learned the rose meditation, see http://sarahentrup.com


Red Rose: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/51/Small_Red_Rose.JPG
Woman feeding birds:  http://www.enpi-info.eu/album/gallery324/Old%20woman%20feeding%20pigeons_thumb.jpg
Yellow Rose:  http://www.zeehd.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/06/yellow-rose-images-1.jpg
Green Rose: http://www.hdwallpapersinn.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/07/Green-Rose-Wallpaper-HD-Free.jpg
Blue Rose:  http://www.hdwallpapersinn.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/07/Blue-Rose-Wallpapers-HD.jpg

July 16th: Just the facts, Ma'am...

When I told one of my friends that I was diagnosed with lymphoma, she asked, "And what does that mean for you?"  I told her I didn't know…that it felt like a new "housemate" had moved in, and I didn't know anything about them - at all.  Her reply: "Well, Deborah, you've been sleeping with them a long time, so it might be good to find out their name."   I thought I was going to split a gut laughing - it was PERFECT!  Yes, I needed to know more….and did find out its name: marginal cell lymphoma.

I have a friend whom I love, and who is one of the best at ferreting out information.  I hadn't seen her in many months, but when she serendipitously crossed my path, I asked her if she would keep her eyes open for information about my new "roommate."  She sent me a slide show she found that was geared toward medical professionals, but was helpful to me.  It may be helpful for you, too.  Here's a website: http://www.presentme.com/audio2012/20121110LRFUjjani/. 

It turns out that there are over 20-some kinds of non-Hodgkin's lymphoma.  Some of them are rather nasty and aggressive.  In turn, they are treated very aggressively.  However, when the treatment is done, there is usually a cure.  Others, like my own, are very slow growing - sometimes disappearing on their own, other times growing more quickly.  For these slower-growing lymphomas, there is no "cure."  

Many times, treatment is not even recommended until the tumors cause difficulties and/or or interfere with other vital organs.  If treatment is recommended, it's possible that a very specific chemo treatment - one geared specifically for the "genetics" on the tumor cells - might be instituted.  And while the chemo might put the cancer into remission, there is no cure for these slow growing lymphomas - even though they will sometimes spontaneously disappear on their own.  

Cause for Celebration #1:  It turns out that my largest tumor is 1.9 cm - which is about .748031 inches (according to a converter on Google - you think I'd do the math myself???).  This is pretty small - I believe the term my health professional used was "unremarkable." (pic is not "to scale, but you can see that 1.9 cm is about the size of a cardinal's beak; it was obtained at http://csip.cornell.edu/Curriculum_Resources/CSIP/Ardia/first_correction.GIF)


Cause for Celebration #2:  It turns out that there are three layers to my B-lymphocytes, and marginal cell lymphoma affects the outermost layer of the cell, rather than the innermost layer, or core.  This is a good thing. (pic from http://o.quizlet.comi/2X1H--tju3WKY1VjQY-5QA_m.jpg)

Cause for Celebration #3:  All of the blood tests that have been run so far are showing that everything else is looking good: kidneys, liver, lungs, red blood cells - all good.  With the exception of those wonky B-lymphocytes, I'm batting a thousand.  
(pic from http://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0225/4515/products/ar20-softball-48-rq_1_large.jpeg?v=1389733596)


Cause for Celebration #4:  No treatment is recommended at this time.  To use their words, we are  "watchfully waiting."  This means that I will be showing up for blood tests every three months.  Would I rather be getting a massage instead?  Hell yes.  This leads me to - 


Celebration #5:  I am listening - with the volume in my small ears turned on high.  I am doing my best to listen for guidance and act on what I am being led to do.  I am not waiting every three months for a massage, but am getting at least two a month, and sometimes more.  I am exercising more, because it pleases my body, and hence pleases me.  I am eating well.  I am saying "no" more often.  I am crying more - sometimes from fear, and sometimes from the sheer beauty of it all, but I am crying - and it feels good.
In short, I am showing up for myself in ways that I don't think I would have, 
had it not been for the cancer.  


Which leads me to Celebration #6 - and one of my most favorite things, in which I usually always find the Divine:  a Paradox...  

In some weird way, 

this cancer may end up 

saving my life.  

(art: "Bittersweet" by Brian Andreas - obtained at http://www.lifesabirch.com/SPBittersweet.jpg)