#iseefaces

gratitude project, day 6

my parents gave me one of the greatest gifts ... the love of travel. i always loved how alive i became when travelling, all senses open, soaking in the wonder of a new place.

i realized quickly that my camera gave me that same sense of awe and interest, and i decided on a career in photojournalism because i knew it would offer me the opportunity to keep alive my interest in the world.

today i am grateful for that gift from my parents, and for what really sustains me and feeds my soul. looking. seeing. discovering. a face on a wall!

atraversiamo!

gratitude project, day four

of all the places on earth i've traveled, this one i call home is one of the best. this bridge? an exciting crossing. each and every time.

 

for the love of a machine

for so long now, i've had a love/hate relationship with my computer.

and digital photography means that i am tethered to my machine. 

i have to sit my ass in a chair in a room in my house in order to complete my photographic vision.

no more standing in a dark room with a red light, often with other people, swaying to music, watching my visions come alive. 

nope. here i sit. alone. when all i want is to be out, with people, moving and seeing and living. connecting.

and while i have participated in many online classes, and have had a blog now for a couple years, and even met and had an amazing experience with the first ever people to whom i wrote after reading their blog ... 

still, the people in my computer seemed so far away. little links that appeared as "handles" were mostly just that, little letters on my screen with an underline.

i never really thought about the actual people who are on the other side of those underlines, those funny names. until now. 

 

link = whole human being.

link = potential friend.

link = possible soul sister.

and computer = connection. 

(kind of like the telephone, but i can "call" people i haven't actually met yet.)

maybe the younger set has known this all along.

but i just realized this at camp when i actually got to meet the living ladies behind the links. and saw how connected people were with their "online" friends, before they ever met in real life. 

and i realized, my computer is my passport to the world. and to friends. to love. 

 

 

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.

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 ...

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.

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 *

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.

and so it goes ...

yesterday it was sunny. today it is raining. and so it goes.

has been a flurry of a week, since i lost a week last week (sick). and 'tis the flurry of the season.

i'm off to portland for christmas with friends, then my brother and family are coming for a visit the following week. 

will be back here in the new year, ready to rock and roll!

may you have healthy, joy- and love-filled holidays and a happy new year! 

solstice wishes coming true ... 

peace,

xh

monday memories / RTW trip: the end of the end

sadly there are no more photos from our RTW trip, even though we visited three more countries (there were supposed to be five). here's the story of the early end of our trip:

after the last post about israel ... 

we headed north to greece where we had both previously travelled. i had spent my sophomore college year in greece. curt had travelled with a friend to visit someone in my group. amazingly we had both been at the same new year’s eve party in athens 12 years prior but had not met! 

this time, we wanted to stay at the same hotel for old time's sake ... but there was no room. was this a sign of things to come? 

so we island hopped to skyros to stay with the cutest aussie couple we had met just for an evening in egypt ... that’s travellers for you. so open! stayed with them for a week of eating (olives, feta, dolmades, calamari), gabbing and laughing (into the wee hours), motorbike touring (including a flat tire, which we fixed with more ouzo) and beach time. heaven. 

pulled ourselves away from this little piece of paradise and headed to italy to send most of our stuff home, buy bicycles and panniers and start our cycling portion – the last portion – of our trip: cycling and camping from italy to portugal. 

i had been lobbying curt for a bike trip through europe since the beginning of our RTW trip. thinking europe is so expensive compared to southeast asia, let's just ride bikes and camp, keeping our costs down. it'll be fun! we'll wine taste in france. you'll see!

turned out this was the HOTTEST summer on record in southern europe. we started in june in italy. we hadn't yet headed southward (HOTward) to spain or portugal in even HOTTER july. to beat the heat, we rose each day before dawn to eat a hearty breakfast and break camp. had some dazzlingly stunningly beautiful dawn rides down country lanes in italy. but as the mornings progressed into noontime (HOTtime), we melted each and every day. we pedaled between 54 and 108 kilometers daily, then would roll into a campsite and soak in the swimming pool all afternoon. ate pasta every night for dinner and crashed to sleep, waking again pre-dawn for another day of the same. it was europe, it was beautiful, but it was just too darn HOT. 

crossing into france was exciting, except that we somehow lost each other in the hilliest place of all: monaco. we each ended up riding up and down that huge hill in monaco a few times until we found each other, relieved to find each other and furious that we'd become separated and had to ride up and down that @#!&* hill so many times. our bikes were pretty heavy, and even heavier with full panniers.

in nice, we wanted to go to the matisse museum. having left our rear panniers in the tent in the campground, we locked our bikes in front of the museum. i left the handlebar bag on my bike. curt thought i should carry it into the museum, but i didn't want to lug it. no one will steal anything, i argued to curt. (i can be pretty darn persuasive. it'll be fine, you'll see!) both of us forgetting he had put his travellers checks in the my bike bag that morning, which also contained all my exposed film from italy, greece and israel. THIS WAS ABOUT THE DUMBEST MOVE I MADE ON THE ENTIRE TRIP! 

went to the window just 15 meters from our bikes to buy our museum entrance tickets. when we turned around to look at the bikes before entering the museum, my bike bag had already been stolen. 

after a few low days sorting out travellers checks, we steered our bikes into the countryside of france, pointed toward portugal. looking forward to shifting gears back into happiness, we wanted to make our french cycling dreams come true, lavender and sunflowers and wine tasting, all that! still, it was HOT. 

another dawn start and we were in a wine region early in the morning. the first winery sign we saw, curt wanted to stop for a taste. the sign pointed toward a little dirt lane with a bend so we couldn't see how far it was to the winery. the lane was a downhill (which means i have to ride back uphill with heavy bike and panniers). it was 9am. we started down the lane and then i said STOP! 

i wasn't about to go knocking on a winery door at 9am. and it might not have even been a proper tasting room, could have been just some winemaker's home. no way. and especially since i didn't know how far off the main road it was. downhill. i wasn't having any of it! 

infuriated, curt rode back uphill toward the main road. when i got to the main road, he was nowhere in sight. i waited. we had ONE RULE for cycling together: wait at all intersections for the other. i waited and waited. finally i started riding in the direction of our destination. didn't see curt for an hour. stopped at the first sign of civilization, a cafe along the road. excusez-moi, have you seen a cyclist? they had not seen him. i was very worried. where was curt? had he fallen into a ditch? someone offered to drive me back to the country lane with the winery sign. he wasn't there. i looked in the ditches and bushes along the way. back at the cafe, i waited some more. they suggested we call the gendarmes (police). so the gendarmes arrived, i told them my story, and we went out looking for curt. 

we found him riding further along on the main road. loaded him and his bike in the cop car and brought him back to the cafe. i was crying. he was seething. while the gendarmes read curt the riot act in french. 

this bike trip was not turning out to be the fairy tale cycling escapade i had imagined. 

we were arguing. a lot. it was HOT. maybe riding all the way to portugal was not the best idea under the circumstances. we made it all the way to aix en provence. still HOT. still bickering. we looked at one another and agreed. it was time. time to go home. as soon as we even mentioned the idea out loud, a wave of relief came over both of us.

10 months. 13 countries. a lifetime of memories. 

~~~~~

lessons learned: travel. go! go NOW! you never know when or if you will have the opportunity again. oh, and never ever EVER leave important things in a bike bag. 

+++++

before the trip, i had recently graduated grad school in journalism and was freelancing as a photojournalist at the oregonian. curt and i had seen "jean de florette," a movie about a parisian couple who moved to a village to live a simpler life. we thought it would be fun to rent a house in the french countryside for awhile. then we thought, why not travel? which mushroomed into why not travel around the world? i was 30 years old. i would have a full-time job someday and wouldn't be able to just up and leave for 10 months. curt had just been accepted to art school after working at the same job for many years, and was ready for a change. so we travelled!

a month after our return to portland, i was offered my first full-time job as a photojournalist at the long beach press-telegram. and moved to socal. curt and i went our separate ways. 

we are still very close and he has helped me remember our travels, so i could share them here. and i'm going to portland for christmas to see curt and other friends from college. this is the last installment of monday memories until the new year, when i will continue to remember and share. 

2011 monday memories will include stories of athletics, school, family, friends, spirituality, and of course, lots more travel! 

thank you for coming along on these journeys, which i hope inspire you to remember your lives, your special moments, and your lessons learned while living.

peace.

xh

monday memories: latke heaven/hell

the only memory i have for you today is this from my cousin mark's rockin' latke party this weekend. 

i am seriously under the weather, my throat is on fire, my brain is underwater, and hopefully as you are reading this, i am tucked snugly into bed. 

this cold/flu may be just-what-i-get for eating too many latkes on saturday. or is that the gelt talking?! (you may have to be jewish, or know a little yiddish, to understand this!)

anyway, the finale of our RTW trip will post next monday, with any luck. the following week, i have a new series ready to continue on monday memories ...

thank you for your understanding. 

now bed. 

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!