loving miss daisey

gratitude project, day 8

i can promise you only one thing: this will not be the only day in november when my little miss daisey takes center gratitude stage. she teaches me love, and devotion, every single day.

jubilate deo

gratitude project, day 2

most wednesday evenings, you'll find me singing to god. which may sound weird from someone who eschews religion. 

'god' is a tricky word. organized religion makes the word and the idea of god heavy with dogma, rules, shoulds. 

but my direct experience of god is of pure freedom. pure love. everywhere. at all times. in all people. that is what i know of god. 

so on wednesdays, i gather with 100 other voices of god to sing ancient music to god, in honor of god. and god, do we sound good! 

a fact of beauty

about 90% of the time, i am not photogenic. even my friends will attest to that. some people are, some people aren't. i'm not. and i accept that, since there's really nothing i can do about it. it's like having blue eyes or being tall ... genetics, traits, facts. i have other gifts, but photogenicity is not one of them. 

this photo, however, does not have me cringing when i look at it, at myself, the way many photos of me do. the high angle is better for my round face, reducing some of the roundness. the lighting isn't great but the blues are pretty. 

but this photo is about waaaay more than colors and angles. 

the juice is in my eyes, behind my eyes. my whole self, my inner self, my soul and spirit Self is right there. i am present. i am grounded. i am in my body. there are so many ways of describing this state of being.

ten years ago, i had no idea what this meant, being "in my body." i thought i WAS my body. 

years of study, and evolved friends and teachers, and spiritual experiences, and oh so much work and practice have all helped me to not only understand this concept, but to actually feel when i'm in my body and when i'm not.

some people have a much easier time being and staying grounded/present/in-their-bodies. often those with past trauma or super sensitive nervous systems have a harder time. i find that people who work with their hands are often more grounded than "intellectuals." and surprise, surprise, i'm one of those folks who has to work at getting out of my head, being present and staying in my body. 

i like this self-portrait because i can see my Self, my soul, shining through my eyes, my clothes, radiating. i see me, the real me, not the outer me, not the photogenic or not-photogenic me.

i really see me. and i find myself beautiful. because spirit IS beautiful. fact.

and i'm learning how to say it, to state it. without the outer getting in the way. without my head getting in the way.

i. am. beautiful.

you are beautiful

 myriam

"you are beautiful!" myriam exclaimed as i walked into camp registration. who me? she can't be talking to me. we proceeded to have a transformative conversation that night: beauty is about letting ones inner light *shine* through. it is not about what's on the outside, the physical ... it's all about what's on the inside. i know this t-h-e-o-r-e-t-i-c-a-l-l-y but, ohhhhhh, i could see the storm brewing. so THIS is my secret reason why i came to camp.

i've known for many years that i am not my body and that i (and everyone and everything) am soul, spirit. i had my spiritual awakening the night my mom passed 9 years ago. 

but it's a whole other thing to really grok ... not when i look at others, but when i look at myself. many/most/all? of us are so hard on ourselves and so loving with others. we see their inner beauty. we see their hopes and dreams and tenderness. but when i look in the mirror, i see chubby cheeks, small eyes, thin lips, extra pounds, and on and on. and i hear my mom's unknowing words of many years ago jangling around in my head ... "i wouldn't consider you beautiful, but you're interesting-looking."

what i so needed -- and didn't even know i needed -- i got from myriam the first night of camp, so naturally, so very effortlessly: you. are. beautiful. 

the minute our hosts tracey, myriam and jen started talking, i knew this experience was going to be about so much more than the technicalities of photography: intentions, secret wishes, poetry, permission, passion, sharing, seeing and being seen, gratitude. and beauty.

before reading several soulful poems out loud to the group, myriam mentioned "this is especially for hillary" more than once. she could see that i really needed to get this. i know this poem well, but i obviously needed to hear it again, and apply it to myself: 

 

Love After Love by Derek Walcott

The time will come 
when, with elation 
you will greet yourself arriving 
at your own door, in your own mirror 
and each will smile at the other's welcome, 

and say, sit here. Eat. 
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart 
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you 

all your life, whom you ignored 
for another, who knows you by heart. 
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf, 

the photographs, the desperate notes, 
peel your own image from the mirror. 
Sit. Feast on your life.

~~

 

when i looked at every single one of my fellow shutter sisters at camp, i could so clearly see their beauty:

wendy 

siobhan ria


stef

when i asked tracey the first night which class i should take, "composition" or "self-portraits," she blurted, "you? self-portraits." 

my comfort zone stared me down. i knew i had to do this, to go toward the scariest thing.

fortunately i was in safe hands. taught by the lovely meredith, i learned that making self-portraits is not the height of narcissism as i had thought in the past (this judgment a sure sign i was really just scared of it). now i know it's quite the opposite, in fact. making self-portraits is a high act of self care, self love. of really seeing my inner self and honoring that. of seeing my truth, my story, not other people's stories about myself. about seeing my inner beauty. ohhhh. 

self-portraitohhhh. so THAT'S why i came to camp.

to learn that i, too, am beautiful.

the sisterhood: a homecoming

i kept stepping into scenes with my heart melting, melting, melting at the sights i was beholding. on the beach. in the lodge. up at kiln. at the bonfire. upon each entrance, a shock quivered through my system, powered with the realization: i am not alone anymore. a whole community of sisters actually exists!! women who LOVE photography as much as i do. real, live, in the flesh, shutter sisters.

and these women share. share their knowledge, their tips, their special sauce ... technical advice yes, and so much more. their dreams and fears. their truth. the generosity of spirit shocked my system, too. the openness and vulnerability and depth were not what i expected from photo camp. 

we talked a lot about "story" at camp. here is mine: i've been a photographer since high school. my teacher was a man. i went to journalism school and all my photography instructors were men. i was one of very few women photojournalists working in the uber-competitive world of photojournalism in which no one shared their ideas for fear of someone stealing them. because people did steal ideas. literally.

pinups covered the walls in the newspaper photo labs where i worked. the guys returned from football games and printed up pictures they'd taken of cheerleaders' breasts and butts and tacked them above their desks. 

i photographed fires and car crashes and gang warfare and dead bodies. there was no one to talk to about how i felt. 

it took me a long time after my photojournalism career to even understand what shutter sisters was all about. my perspective was so ingrained by all i had learned and seen in my previous world of photography. i didn't get the "shooting from the heart" thing, photographing as expression of tender feelings and family life. sun flare, starbursts and out-of-focus were serious no-nos in all my training. i'd check in on the shuttersisters site every once in awhile, and leave thinking, "this is not the place for me." 

until i was far enough and long enough away from all that i had learned before. i needed a cooling off period of unlearning what was no longer necessary, a melting of all that hardness which was imperative to survive in that world. 

over time, i found myself on the shutter sisters site more and more. learning so much from the archives. seeing what other women were seeing and sharing. joining in on the "one word" and "daily click" projects. commenting on posts. writing a guest post. i even eventually found myself playing with sun flare, starbursts, and out-of-focus! and loving it, i mean, down to my core LOVEing it. cherishing the place where i finally know, i belong. that the shuttersisters site exists in the world is like sailing in the middle of the ocean but knowing there is land. somewhere that is safe. somewhere that is welcoming. somewhere that is home.

 

so to have my journey take me into the actual arms of tracey and all the contributing shutter sisters, and into the arms of women who love photography as much as i do, to have ALL THAT? i had no idea how much i had suffered, and how much i needed this. need this. i am no longer sailing. i am anchored. i am home. and i am so incredibly grateful.

the last morning at camp, the dining hall man took my ticket and wanted to direct me to the tables reserved for our group. "are you a shutter sister?" he asked. yes. yes i am.

 

 

squam-time

i've been preoccupied all summer with a huge project which i can't write about here. but the project is starting to wrap up and i just HAVE to share my recent trip to squam. ah squam. others say it's a weird-sounding word. to me, that one little five-letter word conjures up all that i crave: stunning natural beauty, a real sense of history and place, creativity with kindred souls, and lots and lots of love ... 

the dreamy lake ... 

the beauty of birch trees which we don't have on the west coast ... 

the festively decorated deephaven dining hall ...

 

my sweet home away from home ... 


and then there's the art. making art. clear. easy. beautiful. serene. open. time. and space. in which to create. SUCH A GIFT!

my mixed media piece which the ultra-lovely and ultra-talented sarah ahearn taught me how to make ...

nothing but time spent in the company of old and new soul sisters ...

dr. sarah ... 

lovely, talented AND photogenic sarah ahearn ... 

sweet soul jen ... 

whimsical eileen ... 

another sweet and talented soul diana ... 

and then there's the high priestess herself, elizabeth -- whom i like to call bethie and she calls me bunny (granted, she calls everyone 'bunny') -- who, thank god, created the whole etheric thing that is squam art workshops ...

in her inimitable way, elizabeth's parting gift on our last morning hushed the dining hall -- as we were all excitedly saying our goodbyes and trading contact into -- by reading us part of john o'donohue's "a morning offering."

may my mind come alive today
to the invisible geography
that invites me to new frontiers
to break the dead shell of yesterdays
to risk being disturbed and changed

may I have the courage today
to live the life that I would love
to postpone my dream no longer
but do at last what I came here for
and waste my heart on fear no more.

and then just as quickly as i entered into this space ... snap! the party was over.

we went our separate, but squam-connected, ways ... 

i took it all home with me, in a little pocket inside my heart. the woods. the women. creativity. time.

these few soul-nourishing days -- this time -- may be past, but they remain, completely mine ...

and i recall a lingering feeling. to remember: just be ...

pasting faces

this is one of the most powerful photographic projects i have ever seen, ever. JR is asking all of us to share our portraits and stories. anyone can upload a portrait to his large-scale art project inside out and receive it printed on a poster to *paste.*

you'll see ...

i'm uploading this portrait:

this is my dear friend laura. her lovely mother has had cancer for the last several years. every time we speak, i hear courage in laura's voice. and vulnerability, and heartbreak. and strength. and love. this is the story i am sending to JR's project.

just what my heart needed

arrived home this afternoon weary, exhausted. too much to do, too many decisions, too too too. until i saw the package from germany placed on my front porch. and i knew, this was exactly what my heart needed. i waited until the right moment, and sat, and touched the linen cover, let my eyes drink it in. and opened.

i had been anticipating this *stunning* book by ubertalented stylist/photographer/traveller pia jane bijkerk for months after having discovered her blog. not available yet on US amazon. after searching around for the past three weeks since it was released in australia, i finally found one, i think from amazon germany. MINE! i jumped on it with my credit card.

tonight my heart will wander, with pia's, to france and holland. and then further on, my heart will continue to wander. mine heart.

photoflow: instant bliss!

just five days ago, i fell in love. again. (some of my friends find me fickle. what can i say, i just love lots of things!) 

this time, it's a love affair with *instagram* 

i had seen it around the internet, but didn’t really get it, so didn’t look into it. i’m never at the front of the pack when it comes to tekkie things, and usually i’m months if not years behind.

this time, i’ve discovered something toward its debut (instagram launched in october 2010), and it’s so much fun to see it grow. in just the last five days! it’s spreading like wildfire.

so let me share with you what i've found, to make it easier for you to join in the fun! here's the skinny:

instagram is a *free* app for iphone that lets you take pictures and add filters with a tap of your finger (similar to hipstamatic, but simpler) which turn regular photos into magnificent beauties. it also has a "tilt shift" feature which enables you to control depth of field.

the most exciting thing about instagram is its instantaneous sharing possibilities. once you take the picture, you can automatically upload your photo to fb, flickr, twitter and more. and just like fb, you can "friend" people and see their photo streams (they call it "feed") and they can see yours, instantly! these are viewed in the iphone itself, and on third-party websites (the one i use is called webstagram. i also like inkstagram).

as soon as i learned of this new delight, i emailed my friends in france and england to share. my friend manny started instagramming that very day! now i can *see* what her daily, hourly, life is like! 

in fact, i had sent manny a care package with some coconut chai which she loves but can't get over there, and this morning i saw this in my feed by manny:

it warmed my heart to see her enjoying my gift. so instead of emailing her back, i decided to instagram her a photo of my morning coconut chai!

and that is how technology can actually create connection, with someone on the other side of the world!  

here are the links and info i've found which may be helpful:

official instagram site for download: http://instagr.am/

official instagram blog: http://instagr.am/blog/

helpful articles about instagram: http://www.mercurynews.com/business/ci_18147909?nclick_check=1, http://blog.appboy.com/2010/10/5-things-instagram-got-right-that-others-before-it-couldnt/

webstagram site for viewing instagram photos: http://web.stagram.com/feed/

inkstagram site for viewing instagram photos: http://inkstagram.com/

i'm sure there's much more. maybe i'll see you there! (my username is eyechai)

my sweet rocky boy

 

my sweet rocky went to kitty heaven today.

 

he was the best cat. sweet, soulful, and smart, with big curious eyes, and extra toes making his paws seem extra large. he liked using those mitts (thus the name rocky); he had a penchant for opening closet doors. and he had just the right sensibility when it came to snuggling. not completely in my face like my other (bratty) cat, but always around, sleeping at the foot of the bed but never pinning my feet under the covers. we lived well together.

i'd never been sure how old he was because i got him as an adult from the humane society. and i'm sad to say he did not die from old age. 

i'm not 100% sure, but i think he ate some leftover grass after my yard was sprayed for weeds. normally i wouldn't have the yard sprayed, but all the grass and plants had been ripped out in preparation to completely redo the yards. the gardeners chose a supposedly non-toxic and organic spray, and i OKed it. the label said it was safe.

the main ingredients in this spray are clove oil and citric oil. sounded harmless enough to me, natural, essential oils. great. but our vet explained citric oil is toxic to cats. 

i will be so much more careful in the future. but i thought this information was worth sharing. it could save a kitty's life.

this is the last photo i took of rocky this last week, trying to coax him to drink water.  

oh special day

spent my big birthday in boulder. doing things i love with people i love ... 

walked around with my camera ...  

photo fun at lunch ... 

browsing one of my favorite spots in boulder, among the vietri dishes at peppercorn on pearl street. mmmmm ...

then a three-and-a-half hour dinner at the best (ambiance + food) restaurant in town ...  

with fab folks who chose tasty wine ...

and told exotic stories of their days in india and kathmandu ...  

 

they didn't sing happy birthday too loudly ... 

the gals didn't want their pictures taken, so i snapped away at the table.

a lovely day ... feels like the start of a very good year/decade! 

monday memories / the sporting life: dancing for my supper

i'm sharing some of my sporting life with you in this monday memories series. last week's story was about playing on the men's lacrosse team in college ... 

so after college came grad school and career. not much time for sports. 

several years into my job at the long beach press-telegram, i went to australia to visit my cousin who was studying trees there, and planned a trip to the great barrier reef. i figured this is the one time i'm going to australia, i'm going diving there.

reserved a place at a fancy -- and i mean FANCY -- resort in the barrier reef called hayman island. hadn't been on vacation for many years. it was time to treat myself. but the week before i left, i realized this resort would be filled with honeymooners, not the best place to travel solo. there was another option close by, but i was equally hesitant for opposite reasons. club med. i figured it'd be filled with drunk 20-year-olds. hmmm. honeymooners or drunk 20-year-olds??? i opted for club med. and it was not at all what i expected.

this club med was a "family club," on a stunning island inside the barrier reef, with sports GALORE, and i could do them all! (i remember being so grateful to my parents for helping me learn to do any and all sports, even though neither of them were at all athletic.) and the partying was relatively tame. i kept pushing back my departure date, leaving me less and less time with my cousin. i was having a blast. so many sports! and one handsome man.

my last day there, i asked, "how can i work here?" ... they said they might be needing a tennis teacher ... and a few months later, i was teaching tennis at club med lindeman island.

and how did i swing that?! hah! 

first i needed to learn how to teach tennis! i had played a lot as a youngster, tennis camp at 14, all that. but hadn't played in years. i found renowned and hilarious teacher vic braden at his orange county tennis academy. christmas vacation tennis clinic for tennis pros. somehow i talked my way into the course. 

at work, my boss was on vacation. for a week, my colleagues helped me switch schedules so i could work the 7am shift and leave a little early to race down to tennis class. i learned how to teach well enough for teaching beginners. got a 6-month leave of absence from work. and WOOHOO! became the junior tennis instructor at club med!

i can hardly believe it myself. and have no photos to prove it (just this one doing my daily shift in the tennis & golf shack). but i loved it. i still wasn't a great player, so whenever i wanted to play tennis for fun, i played on the most remote court so the guests wouldn't see me playing ... didn't want them to lose their confidence in me!

but club med was about so much more than tennis. the staff or GOs (gentils organisateurs) not only act as hosts for the guests (gentils membres) during the day, but the GOs also perform in the elaborate shows at night. that's just part of the gig of working there. dancing for room and board and a teeny tiny stipend. 

whaaaaaaat? who me? dance? 

(remember, i was a total tomboy growing up and didn't do sissy stuff like dance.) 

yessirree bob. at club med, i danced. kinda caught the performing bug, you might say.

first week, they had me do an easy gig, not too far outside of my comfort zone. we 4 american staff members dressed up like red white and blue dorks, it must have been the 4th of july.

then a few months later, they had me doing a show. a show. a show? way outside my comfort zone. we rehearsed from 11-12 at night after the nightly entertainment was over and the guests had dispersed. i had to get up at 6am to be at the golf shack. those were short nights at club med.

i was fit enough to dance, but not very graceful. and scared! found it quite challenging to remember all the choreography. but also i found, like team sports, that when i relaxed and got into the flow with my fellow dancers, my body seemed to remember and i could feel my stagemates and move with them. THAT is what i love about team sports and dance, too. being completely in the moment and FEELING with all senses completely open and on, and flowing with the group, making something magical happen.

but i seriously needed more rehearsal. the first show, i forgot my gloves in one number. that's me in the back, facing the wrong way.

facing the wrong way again.

and was pretty much facing the wrong direction most of the time those first few shows. after my very first performance on stage, my boss noted,

hillary, don't forget to smile! you looked petrified up there!

over time, my confidence grew a bit. encouraged to enter the costume contest with a guest, i entered as marilyn monroe with guest dean martin. my partner was a fabulous dancer and spun me around. we won!

so then i volunteered with my roommate cynthia and another gal to do a lip sync to diana ross and the supremes. i was really getting into the performing thing now ...

at the very end of my stint at club med, the sports team had to perform a crazy skit before dinner in which all of us ended up in the pool. i squeezed into a tiny leotard, totally embarrassed by my outfit but that was THE OUTFIT for the role and the costume department wasn't going to change it ... and the show must go on!

back at home, i returned to being behind the camera. watching others. not the one being watched. where it is comfortable.

to be honest, i do miss the stage! and i miss dancing. who'd have thunk it?!

~~~~~

lessons learned: while i LOVE LOVE LOVE doing photography, i think it's also healthy for me to be in front of the camera. shining out. hey universe, how can i have both in my life?

~~~~~

ps - the handsome man didn't speak to me when i returned to the island. men! that's ok. there were other fish in the coral sea.

including this one, that i let get away. 

i really liked him. kind. nice mixture of humble and confident. handsome. we shared a champagne sunset on the 8th hole of the golf course one evening. 

when i got home from club med, he wanted to fly me up to vancouver to see him. 

i chickened out and didn't go. 

if anyone knows this man, who was living in vancouver bc in the 1990s, please contact me! or forward this to the one that got away.

monday memories / the sporting life: one of the boys, one of the happy people

i'm sharing some of my sporting life with you in this monday memories series. last week's story was about the politics of soccer ... 

 

 

my junior year of college, i had several guy friends who came to oregon from prep schools back east. with them they brought lacrosse to the left coast, a sport we hadn't yet seen out west. they didn't think they had enough players to start a team, so they recruited me and my soccer friend sheila. i guess they figured, she's tough on the soccer field, so she can play lacrosse with the guys. and they were desperate ... 

the whole season for me was a bit of a fiasco! 

we practiced much of the year in the rain and mud, and i learned how to wield a lacrosse stick, kind of. then the spring lacrosse season rolled around, and it turned out there were so many guys who wanted to play lacrosse, probably because lacrosse players were smart, cool, and extremely social. it ended up being a huge team.

at that point, i should have bowed out gracefully like sheila did ... but i guess my childhood desire to be equal in the [man's] world still needed to prove itself, so i wasn't about to quit the team. some of the guys, the really serious players, didn't want me on the team. my buddies were mixed, they wanted to have a strong team, but they also stayed loyal to me. 

there weren't many teams then, but we found a few to play against in oregon and washington. we had a couple of away games, and the lacrosse teams are so social that the opposing teams put us up for the night before or after the game in their homes. those lacrosse boys know how to have a good time! 

when i'd show up on the field in my uniform, it would create a stir in the opposing team. they didn't quite know how to handle me. you see, men's lacrosse is a VERY ROUGH game. completely different from soccer. more like hockey. that's why they wear helmets! 

or maybe it was the uniform my teammates got for me. we had to borrow jerseys from our football team, and i'm not sure who decided that 69 was my number. young men being young men, they thought it was hilarious. i was a bit naive, and was just glad to have a jersey.

so the opposing team weren't sure if they should hit me as hard as the guys, or if they should go easy on me. i think most of them were not as rough with me, thank god! not that i played much. i had field sense, but not great ball handling skills. plus i was scared shitless!

in our last game of the season, the college allowed us to play on our main football field. there was a huge crowd watching all those foxy lacrosse players. it must have been a pretty close game, since they didn't put me in ... until the very last few minutes of the game ... when the crowd started chanting "hil - la - ry! hil - la - ry! hil - la - ry!" so our captain put me in.

i think i touched the ball once in those last minutes and didn't do anything spectacular, but at least didn't flub up.

the crowd roared!

we won!

my favorite moment of that season was the post-game party at "happy valley," the home of the greatest guys on our team. i was one of the boys, but i was also one of the gang, one of the happy people gathered in that backyard.

i remember feeling so much love for those guys, for all of our friends, for those great people. so loved and accepted. so much a part of the group. right in the middle of it. not on the outskirts.

so much love at that gathering. and it wasn't just the beer talking, i swear. maybe it was the mix of sunshine and winning and finishing the season and beer and team spirit and love all mixed in together.

you could ask any of those guys and they'd tell you the same thing. it was magical. to be a part of a group, doing what you love, running around on a field, being with those you love. it doesn't get any better than that.

~~~~~

lessons learned: join groups with people you love. there's so much power in groups of like-minded folks.

+++++

the following year, sheila and i started a women's lacrosse team. much more gentle!

friday night reality check

friday nights can be brutal for us single folks. 

i can see someone at the grocery store on a cell phone, and it looks like he's talking to his mate at home, asking her what she wants him to bring home for dinner ... a picture of domestic bliss.

and then in my head, i go into a whole story about how EVERYONE in the whole world is paired up, like noah's ark, two by two. and i am solo. and i must be somehow defective because i am alone. and i will ALWAYS be alone. no one will EVER love me. and i will NEVER have anyone to love. and on and on into a total headspin. brutal.

and it's not true. not one word of it.

the only things that are true are: i saw a guy on the phone at the grocery store. and i'm alone TONIGHT. 

it's not the easiest thing to NOT believe our own thoughts. they seem so real. but thoughts are thoughts, made up in the mind. they are not reality. reality is that i'm sitting here typing in my office. that's it. 

tonight, friday night, i only went partially down headspin road before i made a quick u-turn. i'm going to snuggle up with daisey and count my blessings: warm home, good food, safe and sound. amen.

love and other bits: a valentine's day tribute

 

new to life. beautiful little girl betty.

middle life. beautiful grown up betty. who happened to be one of my mom's best friends. she passionately loved food and opera. stroganoff and puccini.

later in life. betty married and gave the world two boys and a girl who became my best friend sue.

yesterday sue's dear mom betty left this place for the other. 

may peace be with us all, and especially with sue and with betty. 

at times like these, it does seem that life is but a dream. a dream full of love and other bits.

ps - dear betty, please say hi to my mom for me.

i love me

february = red = hearts = romance = jewels = flowers = cupid = chocolates = valentines = LOVE. it's everywhere. in stores, on tv, in magazines. i found tiny heart confetti spilled on the sidewalk today.

we all -- the collective consciousness of human beings all over the planet -- love LOVE. we love being LOVED. of course!

and those of us who have done any personal work know that no matter how much love comes toward us from the outside, if we don't have love for ourselves on the inside, then no amount of love from the outside can fill us up or ever make us truly happy. 

all around me, i see dear people having meltdowns when something on the outside triggers their lack of love on the inside, the lack of love for one's SELF. i think many, if not most, of us humans need to love ourselves more and better.

in a chapter about self-respect in his book "the power of intention," wayne dyer suggests many ways to love the self. the one that got to me was his statement:

affirm to yourself and all others that you meet, I belong!

i can be quite self-conscious in social settings, so i'm going to practice that one.

for me, taking good care of myself is a great act of self love ... hot baths before bed, and going to bed early for that matter. and silencing the inner critic. and bringing to light and loving even the dark and shameful parts of myself. 

i'd love to hear how you love yourself in real-world, practical, every day ways. don't be shy. it's something we all need more of ... chime in, in the name of love!

all this SELF love is imperative so we can share that expression with the world. so we can BE LOVE. and BEAM LOVE!

monday memories: mom

yesterday, a stunning eight years ago, my mom went into the light.

some people say that a light went out. and that's true. a force, a life force, a shining light of human existence (even though she was imperfect, human and didn't always act in *lightly* ways). extinguished for all eternity. 

but when someone dies, they also go into the light. the light of eternity.

i see it both ways. we are the light and the light is here all around us. the light IS eternity. we are eternity. 

my mom was many things to many people, just like everyone is.

she was warm and funny, controlling and manipulative, hilarious and generous, bitter and mean. loving. hating. she was just like everyone else. light and dark. but the light is what remains.

i have learned much since my mom's passing. about a year after she died, i wanted to know ... where did she go? i started reading about death. i'm fascinated by it. and not at all afraid. apprehensive perhaps, but not afraid. because i know about the light. (more on that, another time).

there has been much death around me lately ... robbie, and my friend's mom, and many anniversaries of death. i have heard that there are many more deaths around this time of year -- end of december, beginning of january. i have heard it's because the "veil in thinner" at this time of year, the material and spiritual worlds closer. tried researching death statistics. to no avail. anyone?

i don't mean to be morbid. and i don't mean to be insensitive. death is soooooooooo painful for those left behind. believe me, i know.

mom, i miss you. i still want to call you at important times, to tell you all about whatever it is. and after the passing urge to pick up the phone, i remember. you are not here to call. so i "call" you in the way that i can now, speaking to your spirit, feeling you, feeling your love. you never shied away from speaking about your own death. thank you for that. you said, when i die honey, i'll be in the clouds looking down on you.

so i used to talk to mom in the clouds. and when there are no clouds, like at night, i talk to her anyway. i don't need clouds anymore. she is the light, and the light is all around, even when it's dark.

I saw eternity the other night, like a great ring of pure and endless light.

- Henry Vaughan