La Vie En Rose (Edith Piaf)

DailyOm

July 7, 2009

Opportunity for Reflection

Hard Days

We all have days that seem endlessly difficult and hard. On these days, it is as if the odds are stacked against us and we just can’t get a break as one challenging situation follows another. We may feel like we’re standing in the ocean getting hit by wave after wave, never able to get a full breath. Sometimes it’s necessary or worth it to stay in the fray and work our way through. Other times, the best idea is to go home and take the breath we need in order to carry on.

If the only choice is to get through it, a hard day can be a great teacher. It will eventually end and we can look back on it, taking pride in the stamina, courage, and ingenuity it took to hold our ground. We may also look back and see how we could have done things differently. This knowledge will be valuable when we face hard days in the future. Trust your gut as you’re deciding whether to work through it, and know that sometimes a timely retreat is the best way to ensure a positive outcome. Getting space can remind us that external circumstances are not the whole picture. Once we catch our breath and re-center ourselves, we will be able to determine our next move. With a little perspective, we may even find the inner resources to change our attitude about what’s happening. We may begin to see that what we saw as hardships are actually opportunities. As our attitude changes for the better, our actions and the circumstances will follow suit.

Sometimes all that’s needed is a good night’s sleep. No one is immune to having a hard day and these are usually the times we can learn the most. If we can find it in our hearts to examine the day, and maybe make one small change in perception, we can ease our pain and greet the next day that much wiser.

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Rob Brezsny's Astrology Newsletter

July 8, 2009

LEO (July 23-Aug. 22): At the farmer's market, an escape artist performed in the middle of the street. As a crowd gawked, he had two big strong men tie him up tight in a straitjacket and 50 feet of chain. For the next 20 minutes he shimmied and contorted and bent over backwards. His face grew red and sweaty. There were no Houdini-like magic tricks. There were no puffs of smoke or magic boxes or mirrors or distracting assistants. He rarely spoke as the ordeal progressed, but in the end, after the last of the chains slipped off and he wrestled his way out of the straitjacket, he said simply, "Now I invite all of you to go home and use what I just did as a metaphor for your life." It was a supremely sexy performance, and I realized maybe it would help you with your current situation.

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I told a friend the other day that I need to work harder at being softer - I find myself back in that frustrated frame of mind...

As a few of you (who know my backstory) surmise, there is so much going on here emotionally with my mother, especially given our past history - we've always had a power-and-control tug-of-war relationship... mostly with her pulling and me pulling back in self-defense, trying not to get sucked in to that big mudpuddle in the middle!

Interesting to note that now, in the last few months of her life, she's still doing it - I know how powerless she must feel, unable to have much, if any, control over her life at this point... and of course she's going to try to find ways to dig in her heels, just on principle alone. I know she's grateful that I came, that I continue to stay and that I have sacrificed being with family and friends in order to facilitate her health plan - I am truly trying to do this selflessly, and with great love and respect...

It remains difficult... not just the day-to-day tasks but the emotional toll - caregiving is a thankless job, no matter how much anyone verbalizes their gratitude. My younger sister has stepped up in an *amazing* way and, if it weren't for her coming over three mornings a week so I could go to exercise class, and giving me a few nights a week respite at her house while she stays with mom, I'd have long since crossed over into exhaustion and insanity - I am beyond appreciative of her support, especially since she's juggling around a full-time job...

However, I told her the other day it sometimes feels unfairly like joint custody - she's the one who takes mom to Six Flags and orders in from the local seafood restaurant... and I'm the one who makes mom get up for school and eat her vegetables. Then I realized... that's always been our loop - I'm the responsible one (oldest) and Mari's the fun one (youngest). None of us can help the birth order nor the roles we've always played - I can waste time fretting and fuming... or I can just accept the fact that neither is better or worse... and that we actually need both for a balanced lifestyle for mom (I can be fun with my friends and Mari can be responsible with her daughter... :-)

I am at Mari's now, spending last night and tonight (can't believe how rejuvenating two nights in a row is) - since arriving late afternoon yesterday, I have: napped, eaten yummy crabcakes Mari left for me, watched Jeopardy, drunk half a glass of wine, watched a few hours of mindless TV (including Top Chef Masters), started a new-to-me Alice Hoffman novel, gotten a good night's sleep, walked 45 minutes in her neighborhood... and composed and uploaded this blog!

For my remaining time, I plan to: sun/read on the deck, do some much-needed work for my concert series on the computer, make a Target run, take a nap, watch more mindless TV, drink more wine, enjoy a jacuzzi/bath soak, get another good night's sleep... and head directly to exercise class in the morning... after which I'll return to mom's and re-grasp the baton so Mari can revel in a lovely weekend however she chooses...

Thanks, baby sister... for the opportunity to allow me to continue to learn, grow and give - we make a *great* team and I remain in awe of your maturity as well as your fun-loving spirit!

SONG: La Vie En Rose by Edith Piaf

BOOK: Shower of Heavenly Roses: Inspirational True Stories of Healing Guidance, and other Miracles, Atrributed to the Intercession of Therese of the Little Flower by Elizabeth Ficocelli

POEM: Rose Garden, Summer Solstice by Carolyn Miller

Everyone here believes that the roses
are blooming only for them, there where the air

by the formal beds is layered with the scent

of roses. From deep in their flushed and darkening hearts

pour odors of lemons and pepper, apricots, honey,

vanilla and myrrh and musk and semen, apples and quince,

raspberries and wine and ocean, the faint

scent of blood and the fragrance of death and the breath

of the life we are living now, in this place

where the roses are blooming for each of us, alone.

QUOTE: "There are some things, after all, that Sally Owens knows for certain: Always throw spilled salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Add pepper to your mashed potatoes. Plant roses and lavender, for luck. Fall in love whenever you can." ~ Alice Hoffman

On the Road to Find Out (Cat Stevens)

Today's DailyOM
June 23, 2009
Different Ways of Navigating
We’re All in the Same Boat

We’re all in the same boat. We just have different paddles, and perhaps we find ourselves on different rivers. We all live in human bodies. These are the vehicles in which we move through our world. We are all made of flesh, blood, and bone, with brains, hearts, and lungs to power us. Our paddles—the tools we use to move through the world—vary, as do the bodies of water—the environments—in which we find ourselves.

Some of us use our high IQs to get where we want to go. Some of us use our smiles, others use kindness, a gift with language, or athletic ability. Some of these qualities we were born with and others are skills we have learned. Considering this metaphor in light of your own life can be very enlightening. What tools are you using to get from point A to point B in your life? Chances are, you and the people you know have used many different tools in various combinations throughout your lives to get where you needed to go. Just as with oars or paddles, a balanced approach is best. If you rely too much on one thing, like beauty, to open doors, you fail to be well-rounded and you may eventually lose your equilibrium. And if you lose that one quality, you have no paddle at all. This is inspiration to develop multiple tools to navigate your world.

Some of us may be moving along paths that are like rushing rivers; others may be on a large, still lake. We have all felt, at one time or another, tossed about on a stormy ocean. Through all this, we are never really alone, even though it might seem that way. There is inspiration all around us in the form of other people making their way through the world, in the very same boat. Remember to look around you for role models, companionship, and encouragement.

A dear friend forwarded me yesterday's Writer's Almanac (to which I already subscribe) and asked, about the poem (below): "Wouldn't you love to meet the person she wrote about? Does she know you?"... and at that moment, I realized my smile is one of my best attributes... and I seem to have lost it over the last month...

Not sure exactly when and how it happened, but this caregiving is serious business... and maybe I'm taking it too seriously... except, is there any such thing as too serious when it's literally life and death - I seem to become much more annoyed lately... with mom, with others around me and with myself. I find myself thinking words like "inappropriate" and "irresponsible" with others' methods of dealing in ways different from my own (an unfair judgement I'm sure, as different does not necessarily mean worse) - I feel like "the bad guy", *making* mom do things (like go to the bathroom when she says she doesn't have the energy, because the last thing we need are open bedsores, a situation we *can* control when so much of this we can't)...

Crazy thing is... I'm getting more, and longer, breaks than I did the first few weeks - maybe the transition to "the real world" is jarring - when I didn't know differently, I could immerse myself in the mindless routines. Now I know that everything doesn't have to smell like urine, there is such a thing as a good night's sleep and a day can just flow without having to write down every detail of medication, visits and questions for the hospice nurse - sometimes it seems pointless to "escape" when I know I'll be going right back to it within 24 hours (what's the point, you know?)...

When I arrived here a month ago, mom was handling so much on her own (with the help of my siblings and her neighbors) and my plan was to visit for a few weeks and head back home - instead, the timing was fortuitous and I felt I was the catalyst for drastic changes in her health care plan. Mom seemed relieved not to have to rise to the daily challenges anymore, and her friends were grateful someone had finally stepped in to take control - it's now become a double-edged sword as mom, who has always been the one in charge, seems to be resenting me because I took away her perceived independence... and I can't be "fun" because I am enforcing schedules and order (in her own best interests)...

I miss my husband, children and friends - I have been horribly remiss about returning phone calls and e-mails... and I almost can't think about my old life back home because it takes me out of my head and where I feel I need to be. Mom and I really are trying to make the most of this time together (watching movies, looking up things on the computer and just chatting) - yet sometimes... I can't help but realize how lonely I am... not to mention exhausted...

As I recently wrote on mom's CaringBridge website page, "things are changing so fast now and the key is our ability to adapt" - this means me too (snap out of it, Susan!... or, in the immortal words of Billy Crystal's character's wife to him in City Slickers: "Go and find your smile"... :-)

SONG: On the Road to Find Out by Cat Stevens

BOOK: Helping Yourself Help Others: A Book for Caregivers by Rosalynn Carter, Susan Golant

POEM: The Sun Grows In Your Smile by Linda Rodriguez

When you smile, the air grows warm and soft,
the earth is watered with gentle mists,
seeds sprout and spread leaves above the dark, damp soil,
earthworms pierce the crust and frolic across the surface
to the delight of fat, happily hunting robins,
lilies of the valley unfurl beside purple, grape-scented irises,
fat pink and maroon peonies, and gay California poppies,
damask roses hurl their rich fragrance to the wind,
the crazy-with-sheer-joy song of the Northern mockingbird
echoes above other chirps and sweet winged notes,
gardeners join the worms in the warm, rich dirt,
children gallop across yards and grab handfuls of dandelions
to present to mothers who will set them in glasses of water
in kitchen windows or on dining room tables, weeds
glorious after the dark of winter with the color of the sun
that grows and warms and heals in your smile.

QUOTE: "A smile is the light in the window of your face that tells people you're at home." ~ Author Unknown

Surrender Dorothy (Cris Williamson)

It's been pretty whirlwind since I last posted - we presented a lovely concert Satuday night for Valentine's Day, with tables (rather than our rows of chairs), candles, chocolate-covered strawberries, champagne and amazing music. My husband, who has not attended in the four years I've been doing this, came... and stayed... and loved - we went (still on an adrenalin high) with the musicians and a few others friends, to the traditional post-show diner afterwards (Athenian omelet - yum!).

Sunday night found me at a house concert... and the week's been full of deadlines and overwhelmedness and stress (oh, my!) - I did take time out to meet up with my Falcon Ridge friend Mosh, who flies down from the Boston area each February to visit his parents in their condo in Delray Beach. We had a delicious and entertaining dinner (I adore his parents as well), well worth the one-hour drive each way - now I'm back to reality, still dealing with a multitude of obligations, in addition to clearing out clutter to donate to my church's Rummage Sale this weekend...

We sent my mom roses for Valentine's Day, which really lifted her spirits, since she's been dealing with an iron deficiency, having to go to the lab every other day for IV supplements - two steps forward, one back...

My internet was down for a few hours yesterday, reminding me that, despite my attempts, there are many things in life I can't control - I was overdue for a relate, relax, release lesson...

P.S. SMM here and here - it's trains, baby... :-)

This wonderful DailyOm appeared in my e-mail a few days ago - off to find a box now!

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DailyOM

February 16, 2009

Surrender Box

A Place For Worries and Fears

There are times when our minds become too full. Our to-do lists, worries, plans, and dreams may be so crowded together in our heads that we don’t have room to think. We may believe that we are somehow taking care of our desires and concerns by keeping them at the forefront of our minds. In maintaining our mental hold on every detail, however, we may actually delay the realization of our dreams and the resolution of our worries because we won’t let them go. At times such as these, we may want to use a surrender box.

A surrender box allows us to let go of our worries and desires so the universe can take care of them for us. We write down what we want or need to happen and then place the note into a box. By writing and placing our thoughts in the box, we are taking action and letting the universe know we need help and are willing to surrender our feelings. We give ourselves permission to not concern ourselves with that problem any longer and trust that the universe is taking care of it. You may even want to decorate your box and place it in a special place. Your surrender box is a sacred container for your worries. Not only do you free up space in your mind by letting go of our worries and desires and dropping them into your surrender box, but you are giving your burden over to a higher power. Once we drop our worries and desires into the surrender box, we free our minds so we can be fully present in each moment.

Surrendering our worries and concerns and placing them in the hands of the universe doesn’t mean that we’ve given up or have been defeated. Instead, we are releasing the realization of our desires and the resolution of our worries and no longer concerning ourselves with their outcomes. It’s always fun to go back and pull the slips of paper out of the box once your requests have been granted. And it’s amazing how quickly problems go away and dreams come true when we finally let go and allow a higher power to help us.

SONG: Surrender Dorothy by Cris Williamson (can't seem to find the lyrics, but scroll down to track 10 for a song sample)

BOOK: Surrender, Dorothy by Meg Wolitzer

POEM: Starlings in Winter by Mary Oliver

Chunky and noisy,

but with stars in their black feathers,

they spring from the telephone wire

and instantly

they are acrobats

in the freezing wind.

And now, in the theater of air,

they swing over buildings,

dipping and rising;

they float like one stippled star

that opens,

becomes for a moment fragmented,

then closes again;

and you watch

and you try

but you simply can't imagine

how they do it

with no articulated instruction, no pause,

only the silent confirmation

that they are this notable thing,

this wheel of many parts, that can rise and spin

over and over again,

full of gorgeous life.

Ah, world, what lessons you prepare for us,

even in the leafless winter,

even in the ashy city.

I am thinking now

of grief, and of getting past it;

I feel my boots

trying to leave the ground,

I feel my heart

pumping hard. I want

to think again of dangerous and noble things.

I want to be light and frolicsome.

I want to be improbable beautiful and afraid of nothing,

as though I had wings.

QUOTE: "If you surrender to the wind, you can ride it." ~ Toni Morrison

Amelia (Joni Mitchell)

DailyOM
November 14, 2008
Finding Encouragement
Your True Inner Voice

Within each of us, there are numerous voices often that compete for our attention. It can be difficult to decide which one to listen to, particularly when their messages are all quite different, sometimes conflicting, and even alluring. One voice, however, is the speaker of truth. Among all your inner voices, your true inner voice is the one which encourages you, gives you hope, and pushes you to trust and believe in yourself. Conflict within oneself is often caused by dueling voices inside of each one of us. As we move through life, we get mixed messages from the various aspects of ourselves. Some of our voices, such as the naysayer or saboteur, can speak so loudly that they drown out the voice of truth. Listening to your true inner voice – often the voice of understanding, support, and self-assurance - can help lessen and even resolve internal conflict.

If you’re looking toward the future but your faith in your ability to succeed in life is wavering, you will benefit from finding and listening to your true inner voice. You can connect with it by remaining relaxed and alert, while listening carefully. If you have trouble distinguishing your true voice from the others, meditation may be helpful. You may hear many voices as you meditate, but the one you should pay attention to is the one that speaks to you with love, understanding, and compassion. It will bolster your spirits and urge you to go after your dreams. And it will never cause confusion, remind you of past mistakes, or cause you to doubt yourself.

The more you listen to and believe in what your true inner voice is telling you about your value and your potential, the stronger that voice will become. And the more you disregard the voices that can interfere with your resolve to succeed, the quieter those voices will become. Saying no to the voices that are judgmental and make you feel ashamed will help you stop being critical of your failures and afraid of success. By finding and strengthening your true inner voice, you will be able to ignore internal conflict and pick out the one that speaks the truth.

From Girls Like Us - Carole King, Joni Mitchell, Carly Simon and the Journey of a Generation by Sheila Weller:

Between 1955 and 1957, [in] the women's pages of one of the Anderson's main local papers, the Leader-Post, ... was an inspiring poem by local poet Ella Davis, to a tougher heroine of a former era. The poem was simply called "Amelia", as if that first, distinctive name alone were enough to describe the brave aviatrix who had gone alone across the Atlantic Ocean. Davis praised her "high dreams" in "all out altitudes".

Did 13-year-old Joan Anderson (who was now defying Myrtle by sneaking out to the jazz-and-burlesque tent at the Mile Long Midway carnival) notice that the poem in the newspaper on that summer 1957 day and feel a stab of romantic identification? "Amelia": the intimacy of that first-name-alone as a title. "Dreams". "Altitudes". One wonders.

I googled my patootie off, but was unable to find Ella Davis' long-ago creation - however, I did stumble across what appears to be an amazing book of poetry (linked below), of which I'll be ordering two copies (one for my friend Laurie and one for myself):

Navigate, Amelia Earhart’s Letters Home, Rebecca Loudon’s chapbook from No Tell Books, is saddle-stitched with a glossy cover, with radiant art by Stacy Elaine Dacheux depicting a watercolor version of Amelia Earhart with her arms out and paper airplanes sailing overhead. In a move reminiscent of Jane Mendelsohn’s novel, I Was Amelia Earhart, which imagined Earhart’s life trapped on a deserted island after crashing her plane on her infamous last flight, Loudon’s whimsical collection details the imagined ephemera at the end of Amelia Earhart’s life. The writer inhabits Earhart’s persona so intensely you have to remind yourself that these are not artifacts from the aviatrix’s real life. For those of you already familiar with Loudon’s work, never fear: the collection lacks none of Loudon’s trademark ferocity, vivid, dream-like narratives, and dark humor.

Joni's song lives on forever - for my 50th birthday party at the now-defunct Main Street Cafe (so sad), I asked Laurie to open the show with 5 songs (a Joni, a Dar, a Dave Carter and a Buddy Mondlock, as well as one of Laurie's originals), and I chose Amelia for the Joni selection. I can't imagine any woman not relating to the feeling of wanderlust, translated so beautifully and achingly through Joni's intense lyrics and mournful guitar - after experiencing a broken heart, who hasn't wanted to just get in the car and go... destination unknown?

P.S. FYI - SMM...

SONG: Amelia by Joni Mitchell

BOOK(S): Navigate, Amelia Earhart's Letters Home by Rebecca Loudon, illustrated by Stacy Elaine Dacheux

I Was Amelia Earhart by Jane Mendelsohn

POEM: Where are you Fred? by Rebecca Loudon

the bright sea
you punched my arm
you said the fuel tanks
bubble with champagne

I want to tell you how it felt
falling and knowing
what a bad idea it was
to have decided against the parachutes

ha ha

I was a seed pod tumbling
thought I could flap my arms
shout your name and Snook’s
join hands like synchronized swimmers

Forever yours,
Amelia Mary Earhart

QUOTE: "You haven't seen a tree until you've seen its shadow from the sky." ~ Amelia Earhart

"Pilots are a rare kind of human. They leave the ordinary surface of the word, to purify their soul in the sky, and they come down to earth, only after receiving the communion of the infinite." ~ Jose Maria Velasco Ibarra