Life is a gift

My oldest, 17-and-a-half, finally obtained her driver's license yesterday. She wanted no fanfare because of being embarrassed about how long it had taken her. No Facebook posts and, maybe, she would be bothered by this. She passed with only two points off and a lot of beforehand grief on her part.

We had a very sweet and honest conversation on the way to the exam station. I hadn't prodded her much for information on why she delayed, I know she does things in her own time and for her own reasons. She was a 29-hour birth delivery.

And I have really been pondering what that 29 hours must have been like for her after recently confronting my violent birthing process and re-doing it.

In the car on the way to the driving exam, my daughter grew very anxious, her cheeks flushed. "Mom," she confessed, "I hate when this happens. I have performance anxiety, even in band. I make myself crazy."

She was asking me for help. We talked about deep breathing and looking at the benefit she will gain afterward. I insisted that she NOT beat herself up, but I know how the self works in moments like these. When she was little and become anxious, I soothed her with Rescue Remedy, Bach flower homeopathic drops recommended by a friend. They seemed to work. I hadn't even thought – in the busyness of my day – to tote them along this time. I had not realized that she still struggled.

It breaks my heart. And leads me to wonder how much she struggled and became anxious during her birthing process: being forced into labor by drugs when she wasn't ready. Almost 11 days late and with no amniotic fluid, the doc said we couldn't risk waiting any longer. Like me and many of us, she was forced out. Perhaps not with forceps, but with drugs.

"What happens to the mother, happens to the child," my shaman had told me last week. Just how did this baby experience the drugs. Did they make her anxious?

That state, she confided, is why she had waited so long to take her test. I had no idea and guessed it was more her perfectionist tendencies. "No. Mom. I let those go. I was avoiding getting worked up."

I centered and remained calm, working with her to breathe and reminding her how we automatically go into shallow breathing when we feel stressed. That the long, deep breath is cleansing and a signal to the brain and body to relax.

She settled some, but the delay in her appointment, I knew, stirred the anxiousness. And then, it was her turn. I laid my hand on her knee as the tester emerged from the previous nervous teen and tried to send her calming energy. And then she was gone. Off on her own, doing big, grown-up things over which I had no control. For a split second, I could have fallen apart and into her anxiety, but I chose to ask Spirit in and hold her as close as possible. "Just be with her and let her feel you."

We had talked about prayer in times of distress and she revealed that she had pursued that path. I was grateful. And I knew, right now, God was with her – no matter what. Then I could let go.

Apparently she did, too, and came in with a grin. "It was so much easier than I thought;" almost the same words she used after her temporary-driving permit book test.

As Jesus said "...with God all things are possible."

• When have I witnessed or experienced the grip of anxiety?
• How do I deal with stress?
• How do I help others deal with stress?
• How do things change when I invite God in?
• How have I learned that with God all things are possible?


over ripe
by medical
standards

she wasn't
quite ready
to enter
this world

I wasn't
either

yet have
learned
I am meant
to be here, 
now

Spirit
planted
me

as she
planted
my daughter

in the
here and
now

teaching
life is
a gift

Listen to this post:

Soothing the soul nerves

[Recording located at end of post]

Anxiety and anger: What's the difference? What's the connection. Seems like an odd thing to be on my mind in the midst of success with my Artsy Fartsy arts' exploration for at-risk kids and recent word that the program has received another modest grant from a BIG source.

And yet I find it so. Haven't we all found ourselves in the middle of utter bliss when something gnaws at us. A recent astrology reading, my first, with a credible source, may have prompted it for me. Or , perhaps, I am ready to take this on right now, open and trusting because of the flow of grace in my life. The author, astrologist and Jungian expert with a Ph.D from Yale had a few things to reveal about the topics. I wonder what of these may speak to you as well:

Specifically anxiety:
• You have a golden understanding of the nature of the physical body, the mind and emotions and an emotional connection now called psycho-neuro immunology or soul nerves. [This may be what I am trying to unearth in this post.]
• You experience issues with nerves and chronic illness, but not forever, and enjoy ways to rejuvenate. 
• You have lots of nervous energy you must let go.
• Trouble sleeping is caused by not venting your energy enough; it builds if not expressed or blocked.

• When ambient anxiety shows up, it means the mind-body-spirit connection is not working together.

• Swimming (for me, it may be something else for you) burns off nervous energy; you can not underdo physical activity.

Specifically anger:
• Appreciate your anger as assertiveness. Don't REpress it, EXpress it inappropriately, but CONfess it in journals or with a resonator, someone who can hear and hold those feelings.
• Illness arises out of anger that turns around and affects the nerves; if things fester, health problems show up.

The connection/disease:
• Soul is asking you to understand the inner urges and not over do in your life; you can be too demanding of yourself; there are positive ways to deal with it so it doesn't manifest as disease.

• Getting to the root of the problem is required for healing

• When you hear the negative animus, the voice of judgment, it means you given up too much; ask others to pick up the burden.
• Your have a propensity for making mountains out of mole hills: be aware that it's just your nature.

Torn between the two emotions today, I began writing out a prayer, understanding that the anxiety that has bruised my sleep the past few nights is unexpressed anger. That is after I swam a mile to burn some of it off. I ranted and raved at God to let off steam, read it out loud, screamed and began to simmer down. To release and be ready to listen and understand what's happening. Apparently my soul nerves had had enough input and needed output before they exploded.

I think I am teaching myself that it's ok to express these feelings as confession. I only learned repression, possibly because I crave serenity and harmony in my life. I would cower in the dark, quiet basement when, at 16, my twin sister, would argue with my parents. So, I stuffed some of the anger in. That was also a year I struggled with IBS. Hum? I am now finding creative ways to unplug years of eating my anger.

Personally, I see the anxiety-anger connection as a barometer. If I am anxious, then something obviously is pent up. Pretty often I believe it's anger. Several years ago I decorated a black-and-white speckled composition book with a giant M, creating my mad journal. So this isn't all new to me. God has slowly been opening me to my disease. I need it in small chunks at the right time, otherwise, it's just lost on me.

I believe the astrology reading and its lessons came at the appropriate time, as well.

So now that I'm pretty well over my madness and anxiety, I am beginning to realize valuable lessons and that Spirit has been beside me all along this roller-coaster ride called life. Thank heavens!

• How does anxiety show up in my life?
• How does anger?
• What connection is there for me?
• What lessons can I learn?
• How do I see Spirit's imprint in all of this?


awakened and
anxious
again

racing to the
pool to swim
it off

much of it
dissapates,
not all

so I sit,
light a candle
and babble

on and on
in my journal
to God

when things
lift and
shift,

trading loneliness
for lightness
and lessons

finding my
soul nerves
soothed

and me,
smiling my
gratitude

Listen to this post:

Against the cultural flow

After what seemed like a very short night full of anxiety, I roused myself at 5:30, went to the gym pool between getting girls off to school (with much thanks to my other half or it would not be possible) and came home physically re-charged. but somewhat lacking mentally.

I showered off the chlorine, fed my growling tummy and decided to head to my studio FIRST instead of the computer, from which I never seem to emerge. Maybe that's why I rarely get to my studio. Anyway, in my safe haven, I journaled and prayed and made art and pushed the negative out ... and into the paper and prayer. En route back to the house, the garden called; specifically, the eggplant, green beans and pepperoncini. They were begging to be harvested or languish. I obliged, having to go in twice for bigger colanders. I tenderly twisted the deep-plum colored eggplants off the vine, then headed to the strung-up beans on so many tangled yellow vines. I gathered for over an hour. Each time I finished an area and dumped a load, I looked back to see more. They beans appeared to grow magically as soon as one disappeared.

The meditative task worked its spell on me and I laughed at the metaphor before me: "There IS plenty."

That is what I was struggling to figure out in the studio, my concern for not having paying work at this moment and lots of expenses.

It's so very hard to be outside of the American norm: to be called to ministry that is not yet a livelihood. It seems everyone else has returned to a rhythm and something productive such as school or a regular job. While I wait, which it seems I am often called to do.

So this was my prayer today and the response:

Dear God/Spirit –


I release all
of my anxiety
and concerns
   to you


Replace them
with your vision,
your work for me
...

You didn't get
    this way accidentally
  
You have the freedom
now because I provided
it – giving you time
   to prepare the way

Get strong and healthy
 for when the work
 does come.


And it will


Unburden your stress
              your worry
                  anxiety


Give it all to
      me
I don't want you
to carry any of it,
child


   Only my love
for you ... to
   transfer to others


breathe that in
let it embrace you


• With what am I wrestling right now?
• Is there a way to release it?
• Is prayer a possibility?
• If so, what is my prayer?
• When said, what's the response?

Spirit releasing me to my work, against the cultural flow

Sewer leaks, cold showers & God

Amazing what you relish – even respect – when it's removed or non-functioning. Often it's the simplest things taken for granted. A hot shower, for example.

I let mine today – the first in almost a week – wash away the anxiety of all those days. Enjoying the penetrating warmth as it swirled over my body, rejuvenating and reinvigorating ... as if a new or first experience. The living water. The unheated pool shower served its purpose, but nothing more. No nurturing or lingering. Quick in, quick out, quick clean and very cold.

We became adept at using the facilities wherever we happened to be.

When the first plumber arrived in a flurry of panic Sunday, the anxiousness began in earnest, mounting when he advised we dig and replace with all new pipes to the tune of mega bucks. Shocking, to say the least. So we waited ... without laundry, dishwasher and only minimal toilet or shower ... for other opinions that trickled in.

The solution was much simpler and way less expensive than first proposed. And now we're getting back to life as normal. But there was something about that break, about being more intentional with hygiene and not taking it for granted that added some depth, even spirituality, to the experience. Possibly it's my altered perspective and more-acute awareness that has made a difference. I am living with more ease, flowing more through life and not getting hung up on issues or events that crop up. Trying not to fight myself so. I can only control my reaction and whatever it is that happens will occur anyway. So why not embrace change? It's a lesson I have been struggling to master for years and, likely, always will.

I just read a jarring idea about being a pilgrim rather than a tourist in this life, this journey. I know that it speaks to something about this recent no-water experience. That we can unthinkingly flit from incident to incident in life, sometimes mindlessly taking in the negative, stockpiling just to show off our accumulated stash or we can choose to look deeper into each for the lesson. I suppose, however, you have to own some awareness each time and I believe grace plays a role.

"Tourists leave their footprints as monuments," Quaker Brent Bill writes in Sacred Compass, "while a pilgrim's footprints are a marker ... Seeing ourselves as pilgrims and our lives as a pilgrimage changes us. To be pilgrims means that we are people who spend our lives going somewhere – in our case, going to God."

Learning to live without was a stripping away that, ironically, added more purposefulness and mindfulness, bringing me closer to my beloved.

• Has an experience made me I more mindful by living without?
• If so, what was the lesson?
• How has that changed me? How I react?
• Can I recall a time when something so seemingly unconnected to the Divine brought me closer?
• How/why is that? 



The 
shock
of living
without

the pain
of the
price
to correct

the block
of time
spent
waiting

in
inconvenience

prayerful
throughout

so that
the shock
and
the pain
and the
waiting

become a gift,
new insight

a marker
on my
journey

binding
me
more
closely
in the
discomfort

than the
usual comfort

to my
beloved 

In the cover of darkness

How come in the darkness of night, everything seems so ominous? I awake at 3 a.m. (I used to more often and am grateful it's not so frequent) and everything, I mean everything, weighs so heavily on my mind. I think I had had a very heavy dream, which woke me ... although I don't recall it.

This morning all of that worry seems like a mere shadow ... the one under my eyes. However, at the time, it seemed disastrous and anxiety-inducing. Not a nice place to be when sleep should be rejuvenating.

What is it, exactly, that kicks into gear in my mind (primarily) and body at that hour to instill such panic? Is it connected to whatever I had been dreaming? Is the sense of isolation and loneliness when no one else is awake the culprit? Is it hormones and aging? I've read that as we get older, our sleep gets less and worse. I used to be such a fantastic sleeper. My head would hit the pillow and I would be sacked out til light and fully rested. Ready to tackle anything.

This morning, I drug myself out of bed shortly before the alarm at 5:25 a.m. and headed to the gym. I was shocked, and not pleasantly, when our longstanding instructor had been replaced. And, perhaps because of my 3 a.m. mindset, not very generous in spirit and a bit grumbly. Until I started to pay attention and found she was, indeed, a terrific instructor and taught an amazing workout. My body is still basking in the afterglow. I also suspect my change of attitude happened as the sun rose, absorbing the darkness.

I know I adore the light: warm sunshine, reflections on the water, sunset and rise. But, early evening as the sun blurs to orangish-red has always been my favorite time of day. When the daylight hours have been rewarding and there's the promise of more to come with evening. That darkness looms close. That liminal, transitional time.

I was re-introduced [because I tend to forget important lessons] last fall to the idea of spiritual darkness being a productive and transformational space. Much like hibernation when things are happening beneath the surface, under the cover of dark. I had not thought it it quite in that light before -- as a positive and necessary place. As a Quaker, we're always talking about being in the light as if darkness is the evil antithesis. Quite frankly, I've probably felt more in the dark than in the light in my adult lifetime. And it was affirming to know that it's ok. I think I have been striving for that illusive enlightenment or nirvana where everything is placid and nothing should matter. I have never achieved that and am not sure I ever will. I feel like my heart's too big. It picks up so much, perhaps more than it can hold. I guess I don't know how to release all of that and still be me.

A friend at the pool this morning told me a neat trick to use at night. "Think of your thoughts as clouds," she said. And I quickly added "and let them pass." "Well, no," she said, " try to go to the spaces between the clouds."

Wow – what a concept. Perhaps that's the liminal place between light and dark and the balance.

Think I'll try it the next time I'm awake at 3 a.m. or, maybe, even in a daytime meditation.


• How do I settle my mind when it becomes anxious?
• What are my triggers?
• Where's my balance of living in light and dark?
• Have I been able to safely navigate the darkness?
• What are those spaces between for me?


bolt awake
in total
darkness,
feeling
isolated

nothing to
distract
my mind,

so it
lurches
into overdrive

wielding havoc
on my body

how do I
flip that
switch?

can I begin
to think of
darkness
and night

as necessary

and quit
fighting
them?