Life is a Continual Unfolding

We are entering a new spring, when the people of the world shall be as One.   It is a time to be a careful, for the old are still dying off, and often in denial that their time of power is over.  So there is danger too.  It's a time to be respectful, honoring the sacredness of men and women working together to create a new world.   One step at a time.  No need to be in a hurry.  No need to despair, but to be part of the awakening.  Go onto the mountain, Little One, and let her speak to you in  the presence of the elders and others who respect her wisdom. I had the chance to do this, to be part of Celebrating and Blessing Mt. Ashland in early April.  This photo is of Mt. Shasta to the south that day.

 There is indeed much suffering when we cling to greed, hatred, fear, blaming.   When we can find peace, a sense of contentment in the midst of a world full of violence and contradictions, we can be more like the mountain, accepting the unpredictabilities of life.

 The weather changes, and we cannot control it.  People, even those dear to us, keep changing too.  Can we find in our hearts a place to be patient, mindful, kind, and generous?

Can we listen to one another without offering advice, just being present with compassion for what another chooses to share with us?

With a friend I journey this weekend to Eugene to join with other Birth Mothers for the bi-annual Retreat OA&FS offers to their birthmothers. We meet as strangers, and maybe our only common ground is being women of all ages who have surrendered a baby in an open adoption.  It takes a certain courage and openness to do this, to let go a newborn baby we've carried in our wombs. Some of us get very attached to this child, and some don't.

    Motherhood is a bumpy road for most of us, but to watch another person or couple raise  the child we carried requires a certain detachment, a true letting go  of what our culture expects from us.  Family members don't always get it, friends often judge our choice, many folks who have seen friends adopt  realize what a gift we have given to a new family who may not be able to conceive a child, yet their yearning is  very real to become parents.

My intention is to listen to the stories of the other mothers, and to share my own too.  To be part of this special tribe of women who are all needing comfort, acknowledgment, loving kindness.   For in  the early years especially, the pain  of this conscious choice can be very deep.  For me it certainly helped to have a relationship with the new parents that meant I was included in Lara and Meagan's life, with twice a year visits when they were young.  Pictures continue to help, now from the girls  in their lives in Chile and Argentina on Facebook.  We rarely see one another in person now, so the relationship has changed, as is true for many adult children who choose to live far from the homeland where they spent their childhood.  From the time we wean a baby, that child is beginning to have her or his unique life, one parents cannot foresee or have much influence over.  We do our best, and continually have lessons in letting go.  Life is like that.  We have our personal preferences, but often others make choices we cannot understand, or appreciate.

    I  feel blessed to have discovered Open Adoption and Family Services offered a shelter, a place where this option could be explored, and now more counseling is available for all parties.  Many states still don't deal with open  adoptions, leaving adopted kids often unable to ever connect with birth parents.  I am blessed to be part of a pioneer movement in this arena.   I am blessed to still be alive despite many challenges, and able to watch my grown daughters, as well as sons, grow and thrive, face their own  challenges, and make their own  choices. Time now to prepare breakfast and ready for this next chapter of my life.  Blessings to you all!

Grateful for this Opportunity to Dialogue with and Befriend my Ally

This is a sacred calling, to learn to connect with, dialogue with and be in heartfelt communication with my ally.  In Christian terms, this might be our guardian angels.   It might be secret helpers from another dimension that so many of us don't take the time to create an open, honest relationship with the workings of our inner world.  It's my hunch this will be a vital part of being homework bound, and grounded in a reality I've touched on here and there, but not with consistency.
    Let's pretend my ally right now is eager to share with me, speak to me, question me.  Maybe my ally is like the Unicorn, a mysterious creature that now exists only in  our imagination.  She  loves bright colors, fresh air, and yes, the smell of lilacs, a sure sign of spring.  She knows I am happy when dancing, singing, hanging out with people or in nature where I feel like I am safe and being gently guided to trust these companions.  There is a beauty that bonds me with my ally.

I  have much to share with this amazing Being.   Let's assume we shall be best of friends!

When Opportunity Knocks, say YES!

When an opportunity to have some fun knocks, say YES!

On a glorious April Saturday, with sunshine predicted to last the day

My dear friend and I packed a simple tuna salad, carrots, strawberries, and sprouts

   Along with plenty of water and electrolytes, and even sunscreen

   Tennis shoes and for me, my old hiking boots, walking poles , and camera

And we took off for the Greensprings, for an unplanned adventure.

Emigrant Lake is bursting with water, the hills greener than I can ever recall from

  our very wet winter and early spring.  When we reached the summit, we turned left onto the Old Hyatt Lake Road, drove a few miles and took another left onto a BLM unpaved road

leading to a Greensprings Loop Trail, or the Pacific Crest Trail.  We parked where there were only three other cars, and walked to the trailhead after eating our tuna sandwiches.  Having no maps, we didn’t have much but instinct to go by, so we chose the PCT heading north.  The trail was in good shape, the climb gentle with only a few log crossings (lots of Douglas firs were downed by winter storms). We were hoping to see mushrooms, but could only see turkey tails on the ends of a few logs.

With my trusty walking poles, the winter weeks of Endurance Fitness at the Y and maybe 6 sessions of physical therapy, along with my own stretching at home and on Sit and be Fit (TV show for seniors), I was able to actually be out hiking.  Jerry helped me when a log crossing required a helping hand to lift my right leg, but all in all, it was so exhilarating to actually be on a mountain trail, with deep blue skies, white billowy clouds, and a trail barely dry, so gentle on our feet.  Nonetheless, we both were really foot sore on returning to his van, for this was a big 

outing for us both.  Like two kids, we reveled in the stillness, the beauty, the sounds of woodpeckers and a few other brave birds.   Saw only a very tiny blue wildflower, maybe in  the onion family, but spring was alive everywhere, and snow still melting  in the prairie meadows.

   A nap was in order once our shoes were off, and with van doors and windows open, it was cool enough to rest inside on this balmy sunny day.  Amazing how restorative a good nap can be!  Then we explored some more of these back roads, and checked out Hyatt Lake, still with snow on her shorelines, but with more water than we’ve seen in years, enough for a few hearty boats to be out.   We had no traffic this early in the season, seeing only a few folks out hiking, some with their dogs, on this awesome day.  It was after 5 pm when we got to the Greensprings Highway, so we chose an early birthday dinner to celebrate at the Greensprings Inn.  We shared a delicious salmon dinner with polenta, some salad greens, homemade bread and a chicken tortilla soup.  Happily we could enjoy the yummy meal and hearing one another before quite a dinner crowd showed up by six.  And with  only a bit of encouragement from the waitress, we shared a marionberry cobbler with ice cream; best birthday dessert I’ve had in years!  

    We were both tired, but chose to fill our water bottles and Jerry’s 5 gallon plastic container at Tubb Springs before our drive home.  Never have I seen the hills so green, and still snow on Mt. Ashland as we descended into the Rogue Valley.  What a grand day  to be celebrating with a dear friend.  We’d both been homebound too long, and needed a bit of a holiday together!

   Time to stretch, start my morning tea routine, and prepare breakfast.  On returning last night  I was too tired to think, much less write, so rested on my yoga mat with my legs elevated as I watched Doc Martin  and Globetrekkers, and went to bed by ten.  So glad we didn’t both do our home chores instead; they will still be there, but a day like that in the mountains is food for body and soul!

HOW WE AGE, Growing OLD, A JOURNEY THAT BEGINS WITH BIRTH

Last night I attended, along with a large crowd of my local brothers and sisters, a new documentary film called OLD.  It was the creation of a woman new to filming (she’d been  an orthopedic pediatric nurse, so this is a new adventure) and her editor, a kindred spirit who had recently lost her husband to death. It is clearly a labor of love to be a witness to many perspectives, from toddlers to a woman in her centurion years,  on what it means to be old.

   The producer chose to follow her intuition in creating this film, with no agenda, no script at  the start on  how it would play out.   As we watch we become part of the journey too, from young kids who see a Grandma in her 50’s as old  to a remarkable older lady who hears in her dreams the name of a man she hasn’t seen for 70 years; she discovers on the internet his wife has died, and when she calls him, he asks for her to come see him in New York.  She flies from the West coast to be with him, rekindling a  deep friendship forgotten  for decades, and stays with him until  he dies of a heart attack with her as his companion.  So moving, so touching, with scenes of people in every stage of living, reflecting on what it means for them to be growing older.

   It is a magical work of art, filmed mostly in the Rogue Valley.  For many of us, we knew personally several of the folks in the story.  The children were mostly grandkids of the director and  editor, and they gave us the precise perspective of innocence. There is a grace to filming like this, with no set intention but to share in such an open  and genuine way what we experience as we grow older, and  care for those we love as they too age in their own unique ways.  This is a film to see again and again, for it is rich in the wisdom of its multigenerational perspectives.  You can see it at the Ashland Independent Film Festival, and it is my hunch it will touch people  everywhere who have a chance to see it.

    How we choose to age reflects how we choose to live.  There will be losses, regrets, changes we wish we’d handled differently.  And there will be peace where we can accept our own changing bodies and minds, and learn to go with the flow and mystery as it unfolds.  It touched me in a deep way, especially seeing elders who still love their work, and keep on reinventing themselves as their circumstances change, and old ways no longer serve them.  It was a film of hope and inspiration, of how important our connections are with our friends and families.  Many scenes were outdoors, quietly honoring how important nature is for so many of us.  I do hope you get a chance to see this remarkable documentary too!

   

There is Inside of Me

There is inside of me, a sweet young child eager for adventure, curious about the world's beauty, glad to hold hands and be hugged by warm-hearted people

There is inside of me an eagle, eager to fly free, not bound by silly rules
There is inside of me a gorilla who longs to be held and touched by another, no words exchanged, just
   a mutual respect and tenderness, a moment to be present for one another before we go off our
   separate pathways too
There is inside of me a wise and silent owl, who communes with the Moon,  and has a mystery
   all her own, rising above my human foibles to see with a deeper perspective;  Solomon is his
   name, and he questions my cherished beliefs, helping me let go and be more playful.
There is inside of me a bold and brassy jazz singer, still finding her voice, and she feels so uplifted
   to be in the presence of kindred folks who find great joy in singing songs of life and loss and wonder, songs that have a life all of their own, uplifting the human spirit.

There is inside  of me a turtle, at home on land and in the sea as well.   She is patient, and perseveres
  when  times are hard.  She is not fast, but has a steadiness unique to her.
There is a poet within my bones that revels in listening to Rumi, Mary Oliver, Emily Dickinson, Emerson,  the Dalai Lama, and Carl Sandburg...who inspire, challenge, and awaken the mystic
   that dwells in me as well.   With poetry, we speak from the voice of our souls, and find our common
   ground.  Many others too, some living right in my own community!