Loneliness

Recently, loneliness came for an extended visit, a nagging annoyance for even the most gracious of  hostesses.

I wrote for hours at a time, but there was nothing to show for the time spent writing.

I watched TV, but did not follow or retain the content of whatever show was playing. I couldn't even follow the commercials.

I turned to the potters wheel, but never got around to molding the clay into the little mala bowls I was planning.

I sorted the acrylics, chose the brushes,  and designed the canvas in my head, but no paint ever left a tube.

I unwrapped the training DVD for my new caamera, but never even placed it in the CD player on the computer.

I pulled out all the canning jars I could find, but wasn't strong enough as yet to pick up the canning pot and put it on the stove.

Finally, I made a couple of phone calls to rendezvous with friends, but not one  returned my call.

Mind you, I was not depressed. - just consumed with loneliness and wishing  it would leave. I had a great deal of energy - went to the gym every day, made the bed, and ate carefully (as opposed to trying to fill the loneliness as if it were a hole).

I was reflecting on this state of being which was determined to stay. All alone with the feeling, I was struck with the notion that loneliness and I are ONE.

At about the same time, I woke up to my surroundings. I was sitting on my favorite wicker chair on my porch. Even in the stifling hot humidity, there was a cool breeze dancing through the sunny air.  Birds - bald eagles or osprey - were floating on the breeze. Air conditioners were humming and a buzz saw around the corner was cutting down a tree. 

As I was noticing all this, one of the cats, hopped up in my lap and began to kneed my bare leg as he nestled into cuddling position, nudging me to begin the ritual scratching of his neck.

There was a lot going on around me and lots to do. Yet, I was alone with loneliness and we were ONE. I slowly relaxed into the presence of loneliness.  As I breathed acceptance into loneliness' existence, loneliness relaxed and took its place, like my cat on my lap - first digging into me, causing discomfort, then nestling into its own safe place in my life.

Loneliness, when acknowledged and accepted, is valuable, precious, healing. and brings meaning to the moment. Trying to get rid of  loneliness only increases stress.

We all are, finally, alone. All ONE.

Loneliness is not a feeling exclusive to the few. We all experience loneliness. How do you deal with loneliness when distractions don't finally work?

Earthquaking Retreat

 All shook up!

It was California, a Catholic retreat center, on a hill overlooking   Torrance .

At night, the city below looked like a golden pool. Although it was an illusion created by the many streetlights and the fog in the valley, the power of its presence stimulated the sense of being in a wonderland, as in Alice in....

I awoke about 4 am. It was 7am on the east coast, where I would already be driving to work. Ready for a relaxing week of training, I stretched my arms up like the branches of the giant tree beside me.

Out of nowhere, the ground began to shake mercilessly. My first thought, having never been in an earthquake, was that this was going to be a totally unusual retreat!!

Then the golden pool below went dark, and I, so as not to fall, grabbed hold of the tree. We both shook for what seemed like forever.

Then it stopped.

The event of it all grasped hold of us for the entire week. TV news blared out the havoc and devastation caused. It all set a tone of urgency to what we were learning. It kept us awake and on edge.

During  discontinuous parts of the day, a group would walk to the ocean which appeared to be untouched by the earthquake.

We all bonded, not only by the event, but by our ability to maintain focus on our reason for being there.

Today, so many years later, I love to tell the story of awakening,  centered and so at peace. Being so present, in the moment, I could feel the earth moving  at the root level of  being awake and on already on my feet.

I remember the presence of sheer terror in that moment, as well.   - especially when the golden pond vanished into darkness.

It was one of the magical life experiences, the memories of which return as sheer wonder and awe.

Take a quiet moment to recall a time in your life which still holds both sheer terror and hypnotizing fascination.                                  

Old Movies Made Whole

I inherited the 8 mm film reels and projector that hold family memories from the 40s and 50s. Although I have been intending to have them digitized, I haven't found anyone to do it in this part of the world. What I really need is someone to put them onto an extended hard drive.

I'm recalling a picnic at (Great) Aunt Carrie's and Uncle Fred's. They had a chicken farm, gardens, and a willow tree in the yard. There are shots of the family on the lawn and the little kids in diapers and sun suits running around. One brother in diapers, was drinking out of an empty beer bottle. I'm remembering him, now a recovering addict.

Another was at a beach - in the summer - shots of both grandmothers,  three aunts, four cousins. The grandmothers wore fancy hats, long sleeved dresses, stockings, and sturdy shoes.  They must have been stifling in that sun! The rest of us were in bathing suits. From that, I'm also remembering a few years later at the same place, going for a ride in my father's Penn Yan - state of the art at the time, mahogany motor boat. Today, it is stored in a barn and has a hole in the bottom of it.

Another was a parade on upper Genesee Street. My grandfather's business was selling Oldsmobiles - he owned his own dealership. He was in a white riding coat and hat, with his cronies, and they were showing off their "old" cars. I'm remembering now, just a few years ago, watching the Boiler Maker run ( world famous nual foot race), as runner after runner, passed while I stood on almost the same spot as those old parade movies had been taken.

Another is pictures of my brothers and myself, at a swimming pool, diving off the board. We were quite impressive. I always thought I was fat. What I wouldn't give to be in that good of a shape these days! These are reminding me of a couple of years later when my girlfriends and I went to the same pool for the sole purpose of meeting boys - all skin and bone of me still thinking I was fat!

Memories captured on film can be powerful catalysts for spanning a life's time - like getting flat pebbles to skim across the water.With each attempt, there is a determination to outdo the previous number of hop skips , traveling further than before

I should, I know, have all the film digitized and saved on an external hard drive. Excuse me while I add that to my "bucket list".

Revisiting the movies of the past revitalizes the reality of being somehow rooted. Woven in and through this "memory meandering" is the pain, the wounding that also occurred. Some of us have been spared  extreme trauma, Most of us haven't.

The scripts of old movies can be rewritten. Yes, illusions or losing the film altogether can replace the reality of it all. But, also,  healing stories can be written which include all the facts.

Our pasts can become total gift to us, just as they really have been lived. We all have the potential of being our whole life experience - standing tall with it all - walking with confidence that we have been somehow blessed by it all - that we were meant to learn a valuable lesson from it all.

You know I'm going to suggest you review your old movies, especially those you keep rerunning.

Create a mew perspective for one for which you strongly feel regret - OR - one which  is only the happy part of the story, to include the whole movie.

What changes as a result?

Grand Canyon

It was a hot August afternoon. I was sitting on the edge of the Grand Canyon, observing an eagle nesting on a ledge below  and to the right of me.

Earlier that day, I had taken a left and gone north because I saw a bill board that said, "You can't come this far and not go to the Grand Canyon".

Of course, much to my surprise it took half a day to get there from Route 66, the road I was traveling from San Jose, CA to Ft. Sill, OK.

I was lost in an eagle's flying to and from its nest which held eaglets,, when I became aware that a photographer had pulled up in his car and was taking pictures of the eagle and other views of this great gap on this earth.

I also noticed that the sun was beginning to set, soon it would be dark, and I had no idea how long it would take to get to a motel. Since I was traveling alone, I thought it best not to tent, but to get in my car and drive on down the road.

The sun set and darkness filled the drive down the mountains. The ride took all night. I did not dare stop anywhere, perhaps from sheer fear, perhaps from better judgment.

Elated from the day, rushing with adrenaline from the dark unknown, and exhausted from lack of sleep, I wound my way down the road

.During the ride, intermittently,  ghostly faces appeared of Indians in full headdress or as warriors, or as women with papooses on their back, and occasionally an animal. (I have always welcomed these apparitions). When the faces appeared,  I felt safer and more mindful than when there was only the darkness.

I imagined them as guides sent from the Universe itself. Tiredness left, I relaxed, and almost felt as if I were drifting through the journey of a life's time.

Soon, the sun began its ascent. I was near a small rustic town which had yet to awaken, so I kept on driving until I could go no further. I pulled into a motel, paid the guy his cash requirement (what did he think I was there to do?!!!) and got some sleep.

As I pulled out of the motel parking lot, I reflected on the night's journey, and wondered about the reality of it all.  It was real, even if it was an imagination enlivened by fear. It was very real!

We have all had these super-natural experiences.

What has been your experience of being guided through the darkness, safely and present to the wonder of it all?

Stones on the Hearth

The other day, my friend, Laurie, and I were reminiscing about summers in the foothills of the Adirondacks and other areas within driving distance of our common home town.

The essence of our common yet very different annual experiences was the refreshing return to a natural environment, stone and wood built rustic houses with screened in porches and lots of room to romp.

A lake for swimming -  a pond for skimming flat stones - a stone bedded creek to wade in - weather smoothed quartz to slide down - evergreen woods to wander - wild animals going about their business - berries and currants for the picking - clearings in the woods filled with silence - campfires for roasting marshmallows - sun bathing - moon light and stars - fields of fireflies.

Poison ivy covered with calamine lotion - mosquitoes  for swatting - biting yellow and black flies gathering on  the spiraled sticky paper - sunburn covered with oil - mildewed mattresses to be aired - beaver dams to unblock - pine trees to be trimmed up - daddy long legs in the tents.

I could fill a whole book with these memories.

We loved every second of our time at our summer camps - one week, two weeks,every weekend, or day camp.

My favorite was the early morning mist, walking on the tree shaded paths to a small clearing. I had shaped it by building a fence of pine needles, a circle of stones on the outside and a hearth of stones in the center.  I was very young then and, unless I saw a picture in a national geographic, the sacred space came from somewhere deep inside of me. I imagined it into being there at summer camp,  hanging out with the trees, plants, and animals in the foothills of the Adirondack mountains.

Even today, I look for the small clearings and create of it, a sacred space. There, I breathe in and breathe out, grateful for this opportunity to  hang out, play and be totally in nature with those of us who have gathered at  a summer camp.

We all have memories of going back to  nature. Some of us have moved back there permanently. Those fortunate souls, I envy.

How do you create a sacred place, together with nature,  for your solitary time?

Grace Happens.

 Every year at a time around my birthday, I reflect on the year. 

First, I draw a line across a blank piece of paper OR draw a circle in the center and 12 circles  (for each month) around it. 

Then, I add events that happened around each month.

I weigh the impact of each event, decide which was a turning point and write about it. Then name it.

This past year has involved much revelation.

Every month brought a momentous occasion or two, an event, a new friend, re-acquaintances, special colleagues passing, a new political scene, health crisis or two, an opportunity for new channels of engagement. . .

Some encounters have been filled more with pain and some filled more with joy.

For each, I have been ever so grateful. Most of all I have experienced this gratitude with my whole Heart and Soul this year.

Everything changes when longings, plans, and memories long stuffed into the shadows, become dreams finally realized. Nothing new happens until the lights turn on and grace is here in the present moment.

I have been open and actively involved in occasioning the changes, but grace happens when it is ready. It sure has been gushing this year!!

The whole year has been like this. grace really does appear now and then. I am so grateful to have been so privileged, so blessed.

Everything happens when the time arrives for it to become real.   

Try this exercise, for your year, the past month, past week, or at the end of a day.  Recall the events, weigh their impact on you, choose the turning point and name it.