32/365: still falling

i walk around these days, my feet not quite on the ground. i see the ground, i even see my feet on the ground. i see seeds and plants and petals fallen on the ground. but i? i am mid-air. it feels good to be suspended this way, not quite sure what will happen next, but willing to let myself go all the way, wherever this lovely breeze shall take me. i have given in to Life, i am not even trying to control it. sometimes, when i get scared, i try a little bit to control. but i quickly realize that i am not in the driver's seat, and i let go again. trusting. trusting Life. 

and i know, as i even told a complete stranger the other day, i can do this, because i KNOW that i can take care of myself. i am fine. i will be just fine. no matter what happens. i am fine. 

and so i let myself fall, love ... happily, easily, fully. 

15/365: love of place

from early morning mountain trails -- complete with redwoods and oaks and eucalypts and dirt and bicycles and dogs and red cheeks in cold air -- to beach by harbor -- complete with sailboats and sailors and paddle boards and dogs and palm trees ... this is the northern california i know and love. the northern california i praise in my quietest moments, and my happiest moments. 

messenger

gratitude project, day 14

visionary messsenger, the hawk symbolizes seeing our life from a higher perspective, and to flying high with our life's purpose. 

this magnificent bird came into my life in a very second-hand manner, yet i still humbly receive its message.

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 ...

wisdom words: blossom

 

 

on a routine dog walk the other seemingly regular day, i ran into my neighbor cathy. she showed me her basket, took her time with me, present and pleasant. my morning became something special ... 

let go. relax.

the day after one of the roughest weeks i've had in years and losing rocky boy ... i headed to a week at the ranch.

rancho la puerta, that is. those of us who've been there before, we just call it "the ranch." a health spa. a treat to myself for my 50th BD. worth every penny.

one full week of pure bliss. the grounds, gardens, facilities, food, and setting about as gorgeous and tasteful as could possibly be, with a rustic mexican sensibility. at the base of a sacred mountain. where everyone hikes starting at 6:30am, to kick off the day with golden boulders, fresh air, and meandering conversations with new friends.

i needed that week. i needed that 9am stretch class every day. i needed to walk along the garden paths. i needed that mountain. i needed those 8pm massages right before bed (!).

the first few days were about letting go, especially in the quiet moments. letting go of that last week with rocky, letting go of the to-do lists in my head, letting go of old ideas of how life should be.

the rest of the week was simply about moving my body in the mornings and relaxing in the afternoons. relaxing, as in falling asleep in the lounge chair by the pool. and sitting in the stone jacuzzi at sunset and watching the water spray dance in the light. 

i hadn't been that relaxed in YEARS. my system needed it. my heart needed it. and i am so grateful to have been able to go. 

* highly recommended *

older now

 

so i'm fifty now. older now. wiser sometimes. 

more and more, i find myself. find myself wanting myself. wanting what's really in there. to come out. 

as for the others, they may see me as old. 

i see me as me.

 

found this poem just now. another moment of serendipity. they happen more and more ...

 

WEATHERING by fleur adcock

My face catches the wind

from the snow line

and flushes with a flush

that will never wholly settle.

Well, that was a metropolitan vanity,

wanting to look young forever, to pass.

I was never a pre-Raphaelite beauty

and only pretty enough to be seen

with a man who wanted to be seen

with a passable woman.

 

But now that I am in love

with a place that doesn't care

how I look and if I am happy,

happy is how I look and that's all.

My hair will grow grey in any case,

my nails chip and flake,

my waist thicken, and the years

work all their usual changes.

 

If my face is to be weather beaten as well,

it's little enough lost

for a year among the lakes and vales

where simply to look out my window

at the high pass

makes me indifferent to mirrors

and to what my soul may wear

over its new complexion.

kissing in the rain ...

can you feel it? it's happening. it's coming. the sun. the warmth. the growth. the life. rebirth. SPRING! 

EVERYONE is coming out of their caves, their winterized spaces, their lairs. coming out into the SUN!

can you feel it? 

i have been busier these last two weeks with PEOPLE than over the whole of winter, it feels. and i have lots of photographs of these pale and happy faces. 

and yet, here i am, photographing plants, still. 

daisey and i walked out this afternoon, after a day of gray drizzle. woodsy fireplace smoke like french countryside.

raindrops lay in the late low rays of march, whispered

kiss me!

and so i did.

and this is what those kisses looked like. tasted like. wet. juicy. exciting. SPRING!

walk gently

pink sky at night: sailor's (and my) delight! 

thanks goodness for my little furry friend daisey. she stops me in my busydom with her pleading eyes, tail wagging, is it time? can we go now? ok ok ok already, feeling guilty. too many hours have passed. yesterday i was in bed with a fever and she didn't get out at all. so today i promised her, and myself, some nice leisurely walks.

i launched our afternoon walk toward the much-needed pharmacy, combining leisure with errand. not always the best combination. 

and on our way back, flu-meds in hand, i finally got present. as in, i saw what was before my eyes. 

it was this pink sky in all it's daintiness and subtle beauty, gentle february hues. 

walk gently. see lightly, speak softly. of magnificence.

g - l - o - r - y ... us

my "sister" sue from boulder is here visiting her mom. we met down at crissy field this morning for a glorious walk along the water. spectacular.

sue's aussie husband has only been to san francisco a couple of times and only on fair days when there has been no fog. so she wanted me to take a picture of the fog to send to ross back in colorado. see ross?

this morning it was just a little wisp, a little fog finger drifting out the gate under the bridge, as it does most days here. 

the sun so warm and bright, sue couldn't even keep her eyes open to be photographed (an occupational hazard if you sign up to be my friend).

i'm so sorry to all you east coasters buried under tons and tons of snow and cold (she said snidely).

hot shot mark twain once gloated, "the coldest winter i ever spent was a summer in san francisco."

so today i shout out to you mr. twain, loud and clear so you can hear me in neverneverland:

the nicest winter i ever spent was today and yesterday here in norcal. nah! 

and sue even took care of business for a moment on our walk in the sun, by the bay, with all the happy people. lucky us.

grounded. and lifted.

as you know, daisey and i were off to utah for thanksgiving. that is, until we weren't. 

all packed up and bundled up (daisey with her new pink sweater and down coat to brave the utah piddle breaks), we settled into one of those fancy black cars to the airport (since daisey isn't allowed on the airporter shuttle bus), well early to accommodate the tuesday-before-thanksgiving holiday crush. gliding up the swooping offramp to SFO, i reached in my wallet to pay the guy, and realized, "i don't have my driver's license!" 

now we all know we need a government-issued photo ID to fly. (i had lost my wallet, and had applied for a new license, but only had the temporary photo-less paper from the DMV). so i made a quick decision ... instead of going into the airport and spending my precious time finding out if they'd let me through security, i asked the driver if he would take us back to my house to get my passport and back again to the airport ... maybe i could still make my flight. he turned the car around and we raced home. i must've told him at least three times, "i know exactly where my passport is." his driving pleased me. he drove as i would have driven. he executed smart lane changes to make the best time possible, and we would still -- maybe -- make the flight.

this kind of thing used to send my adrenaline soaring. and i loved it. adrenaline was my fuel. happened often as a photojournalist. insanely desperately racing to get to an assignment, to a news scene, to a last minute flight ... this time, i was relatively calm, with floods of adrenaline rising through my body, followed by ebbs of the attitude: i'll make it if i make it. 

pulled up and dashed into the house to my trusty filing cabinet to the file marked: BIRTH CERTIFICATE /PASSPORT ... but no current passport (only expired ones). whaaaaat? where IS it? i looked high and low, upstairs downstairs, in all the other files, in my other filing cabinets, the clock ticking. i looked and looked, and 20 minutes into the search, i knew. i wasn't going to make this flight. i was grounded.

for a moment, that other flood rose upward in my system, the surge that brings on tears. i could feel it coming, to right up behind my eyes. i wasn't going to get to go to utah to be with my brother and my sister-in-law and my nephews for thanksgiving. my parents aren't here anymore. i was going to be ALONE for the most important holiday of the year. ALL ALONE. 

and then, as suddenly as the surge started, it diminished, ebbed. no flood here. no tears. ok. i'm not going to utah. i'm staying right here. 

told the driver what happened, paid him for all his good driving and kindness, dragged my bags back into the house, made calls cancelling catsitters, and called my brother. grounded.

the reality set in that i was home -- not in utah -- for this four-day holiday. nothing but time and space. got invited to several thanksgiving dinners. made plans to see friends. all was well.

i had heard for so long from all the great spiritual teachers of our time -- eckhart tolle, byron katie, and my teacher adyashanti -- (and jesus and buddha probably said it, too) that whenever you argue with reality, when you want something other that what is actually happening ... you create your own suffering. if i wanted to be in utah but wasn't in utah, then i would suffer, i would be sad and mad and frustrated. this time, i didn't even have to try to tame my mind. none of those thoughts came, thoughts of being a victim of the circumstances, nor did the self-critical thoughts that usually come, like "how could you be so stupid to let this happen?" i was miraculously ok with being grounded. weird. 

this whole thing is very weird, i thought. i'm usually so organized. i'm not at all flakey. there must be a reason why this is happening ... so i headed up to my meditation room and sat, asking "why am i not going to utah for thanksgiving? what is this all about?" and clearly *got* that it was about aloneness. 

this aloneness thing has been a real bugaboo for me. makes me incredibly sad and makes me anxious. and at times, i'll do anything to not feel that aloneness. eat too much. go to the movies in a tizzy. work till all hours of the night. just to not feel alone and lonely. my therapist says that everyone feels alone, even people in happy, stable relationships for 50 years. so it's not just about being single and living alone. huh?

wednesday i got up and went to meditate straight away. this is the best way for me to start the day, to meditate before my mind gets distracted by everything else. but i admit it happens rarely. i often get distracted the moment i open my eyes.

so. i meditated. and asked the Universe (or God, Spirit, Truth, Life, Higher Power, Christ, Buddha, Allah, Whatever-you-want-to-call-it) two things. the first thing i can't remember. the second thing i asked was: "please show me what it is i need to learn or see about aloneness." i have learned to just put the question out there, and wait for a response. so finished up. then yoga. then hopped in the car and pulled out heading to a nearby trailhead for a run. but i wasn't paying attention and hit the car parked across the street from my driveway. 

now one might think i'd really lose it here. i thought i'd lose it. this is the kind of thing that usually really spins me out, and makes that critical voice inside my head into a monster. the flood of adrenaline/crying/criticism started to rise, then just stopped, ebbed back to calm. go inside, write a note, leave it on the dashboard, and drive to the trailhead. which is exactly what i did. no drama. i hit a car. all is well. all will be repaired. that's what insurance is for. calm. 

whaaaaaat? no drama? NO CREATING MY OWN SUFFERING? ... no. i didn't even have to try. didn't have to wrangle my monkey mind. peace just came. 

the day started out perfectly with meditation/yoga/run and just sailed on all day. the car owner came to the door later, we exchanged information, she was completely chill. no drama. the whole thing was kind of surreal. 

i was a little concerned about the wednesday evening before the thanksgiving holiday. it's like a friday night on steroids. A VERY IMPORTANT EVE. and i'm often a mess on friday nights. everyone racing home to their loved ones to go have a super duper duper fun weekend. and i'm often alone. so i was trying to be careful about how i was going to spend my thanksgiving eve. 

i had planned on taking take daisey to sausalito in the late afternoon. but i waffled, didn't seem like the right place to go. couldn't make up my mind. what about muir beach? what about tiburon? what about the dog park? i actually sat down on my bathroom floor and shut my eyes, trying to get where it was we were to go, where was the right place to go? (i've been trying to live more by intuition lately, and it works when i can hear it). finally i got we were going to tiburon, and off we went. 

the waterfront in tiburon is daisey's favorite. she can romp off-leash on the lush grass with all the other little doggies. and it's beautiful for me, too, looking out over the bay towards angel island, the golden gate bridge and san francisco beyond. and it's oh so familiar, having grown up in belvedere-tiburon. 

but i had some trepidation. worried i'd be upset seeing all the families together.

it was a magnificent afternoon, clear and crisp. daisey romped. shortly along the path, i saw up ahead a big family coming toward me. multiple generations, all strolling together in a pack. a small flood rose in me, then ebbed. i saw an older gentleman in a wheelchair being pushed by his strapping grandson. more women, men and children, chitterchattering away. but when i looked in the eyes of that older gentleman, who didn't look particularly lonely, something in his eyes told me he felt alone. 

a flash of insight struck me: we are all alone. each and every one of us. no matter what our outer circumstances. no matter if we have people all around us or not. we are born alone and we die alone. and that being alone is painful and that we all carry that pain. it is part of the human condition, and thus connects us all, making us all the same. all-one. alone. and yet truly connected. 

this realization gave me deep compassion and LOVE for that gentleman. and for myself, and for that whole chitterchattering family. and for everyone who came along my path that afternoon. and for my family in utah. and for everyone i know all over the world. and for everyone, for all people, everywhere. PURE LOVE.

i walked, daisey trotted and sniffed, we chatted with folks, got a latté. all was well. 

i spent my weekend among friends ... eating, celebrating, hiking, drinking, sharing. made plans to see my brother and family here after christmas. and just relaxed.

grounded. and lifted. beyond my wildest dreams. so so thankful.

i was also reminded that i am not alone at all. if the Universe answers me that quickly and clearly, then i am never alone, because the Universe is so magically and mysteriously there, always.

PS - i still can't remember the first question i asked the Universe, but i know the answer was my hitting that car. i guess i have to ask the question again. i just hope i'm paying more attention next time!