The world, according to Dawn

Ever had one of those moments when you feel detached, VERY aware of what's happening, participating in that moment, yet knowing it's something special?

That happened to me Wednesday during what I thought would be a routine haircut. However, my stylist is anything but hum-drum. She's a hoot and about as unique as they come. She'll tell you exactly what she thinks while giving you the best cut. I've never trusted anyone else to just do whatever they want. She really has a gift and it goes beyond cutting hair. She's had a very hard life, yet risen above it with grace, humor and the goodness to help others with similar paths.

Surprisingly her cubby in the warren of mini-salons was empty when I arrived, about a minute late. So we had time to chat about what I wanted and catch up. Dawn just knows everything. She's given me sound advice on teen girls and helped me open to a sassier look. Her knowledge is earned – from experience. She's even shared a Spirit-moment when, as a child and life looked impossible, something BIGGER let her know it would be okay – and it was. I found her on the recommendation of an artist friend, who said she was a genius with a frankness about life. She needs to write a book, "The World according to Dawn."

courtesy of Stuart Miles and FreeDigitalPhotos.net

As Dawn was finishing me up, a young woman quietly appeared and sat down. Soon a new father showed up and the party was on. Our hostess offered us each a glass of wine. I kept covering mine while the hair flew. The wine was a good antidote to a busy day and evening.

The young woman went to the chair and Dawn began to shave her head. She had an edgy cut, half to her chin and half shaved. Apparently, she'd grown braver after she'd come out. Dawn teased her that she'd always known "since you were nine and wore those baggy clothes and t-shirts." It was affectionate teasing. Dawn doesn't care who you are. Last time, I witnessed as she cut the hair of an older woman with some disabilities. The cut was gorgeous and made the woman shine. Dawn sheared the hair away from her face and her entire demeanor changed. I made a point to share how becoming it was on her.

Dawn told the young woman she shouldn't get any skinnier, to which she responded the stress of an ended relationship was the culprit. "Ok then, let's get you a new cut and a new girlfriend."

While they bantered, I took a few minutes to polish off my cabernet and chat with the new father, a cute IT engineer with an adorable five-week old. I asked all about the birth, how his wife was, the size of the baby and if he slept yet. In the process, I also learned the father is from a region in India called Kerala. We discussed the spicy food, use of coconut milk, how he's been here five years working and brought his wife over two years ago. I confessed I had always wanted to visit India. You should, he encouraged me.

We were this odd, ragtag bunch: a young lesbian, a thirty-something immigrant father and a middle-aged artist chatting away, enjoying each other's company thanks to the salty hospitality of a wise, witty and gritty hair stylist who accepts everyone who darkens her door on THEIR terms.

• When have I been detached and aware of a special circumstance?
• How or where did I see Spirit's hand in it?
• Whom do I know that accepts people for who they are?
• What has that taught me?
• How have I learned to do the same?


I almost called  
to ask if I'd 
be waiting

last time,
my turn
was delayed

while a women
it seems struggles
with life was
transformed
on the spot

I was on a
tighter schedule
today and less
flexible
than normal

funny thing
is, she was
waiting on me

not another soul
in sight

with my cut
well in progress
and some
free-spirited
conversation,

strangers began
to trickle in

but the flowing
wine and
authentic
hospitality

made me feel
anything but
strange with
this random
bunch

Listen to this post:

Community of strangers

And I thought I was teaching. Saturday, they arrived in a steady stream with enough space between to begin to get to know them, their pain and stories. I had been prepping for this event for weeks with my new partner, and years before that.

As often happens, I had not counted on receiving so much from a group I was helping facilitate. Yet, that's what transpires when you invite Spirit in with the intention of deep community.

We laughed, cried, ate, played, turned inside, shared and learned together. We may have entered as strangers, but we didn't leave that way – at least not from my perspective, even if we never meet again.

This courageous group opened me and provided community I had been missing without knowing. Mostly I have experienced my pain in isolation, sharing with immediate family and close friends. But, honestly, they have no inkling of this journey. I tend to put it away on a shelf when not dealing directly with the pain. Nobody really wants to hear about it, except God. And this group.

It was as if we could not believe it was ok to talk about what we experience, including our darker thoughts. The ones that typically remain unspoken for fear of being misunderstood. 

This group certainly got it. They live it, daily. For over three hours, we vacillated among discussion, one-on-one conversations, prompts, journaling, playful and interior activities aimed at confronting our pain and seeking its spiritual messages. For most, it seemed the only path with the promise of real answers and transformation, though certainly not the first path for many of us. Seems we've reached a place of desiring understanding and not necessarily healing because of so many false promises. I can't say I've had the surgeries and hardware others have, but I know all too well the disappointment of a shiny new therapy, test or drug promised to work.

We all seemed to share the idea that we are less than. Chronic pain can do that. But I suspect we had some of that in us before the pain. Yet, hearing another person verbally articulate those feelings broke my isolation. One wise soul shared that she had learned to become her own best friend.

I felt normal for having such an inconsistent life and ability to work because they live similarly. I am more patient with my lengthy morning routine, grateful that I can get out of bed and into the gym or studio.  It was as if Spirit blew in a breath of fresh air, helping me see there is connection even in pain.

I came home and crashed. Frustrating, but not unexpected because I typically can not count on performing major activities back to back. My partner was down two days with a temperature. Yesterday, we e-mailed each other from bed. It seemed so pathetic as to be funny. Humor was another common element in Saturday's group. We laughed more than anything else – a rich and welcome surprise!

There's still some processing to do and program tweaking, follow-ups and prepping for the next session, but I suspect this group will be in my heart for a very long time. Isn't it amazing whom Spirit randomly seems to pull together?

• When have I felt accompanied and understood among strangers?
• What bound us?
• What is my experience of receiving when I thought I was giving?
• When have strangers marked my heart?
• Whom has Spirit randomly pulled into my life?


Thought I was
SO organized

everything neatly
packed and in
the trunk

ready to
transform
the room into

a colorful
splurge of
playing with pain

yet I forgot
my latest art
piece, a rainbow
pain meter

my partner gently
encouraged me to
get past it and
move on

into Spirit's lively
flow of reaching
down deep with
patience, humor
and tenderness into
our pain and tapping
the places we
all share

building

a community of
strangers 

Listen to this post:

Strangers who haunt us

Listen to this post:

Last week, I wrote about serendipitously meeting Rebecca at Whole Foods. Today, I believe that wave of Spirit put me in the path of Amanda and Scott, again, two strangers I encountered while having tea. 

I'd taken my younger daughter to Starbucks enroute to picking up her sister from band practice. I had to be fair, not necessarily by my accounting, since I'd schlepped the older one out earlier in the week for refreshment.

Hadn't but just sat down, when, the man sitting across from me noticed my keycard was the same as his wife's. He wondered if we worked at the same place. No, we just had the same brand of key cards. The conversation got deep very fast as I learned they have 5 sons, one of whom died in his mother's arms, was revived and, later, survived a heart surgery. There were two miscarriages. Amanda, who was also present,though more quietly so, was a stay-at-home mom until Scott found himself out of work. Their roles are reversed. They used to live close to me in Milford, but moved six years ago when busing was cut and they could no longer afford it here.

Once again, death entered the equation. But so did religion, spirituality and faith. We talked about so much distraction in the world when I mentioned I was Quaker and, for the most part, we wait in silence listening for God. That captivated Scott. He is an informal student of religion and open to new ideas. Scott and Amanda actually met at church. He spotted her all in black, beautifully playing the trumpet, when they were both pretty young.

It was a very even exchange of listening and being listened to: a rare gift, especially in the care of complete strangers. But then, were they – really? Scott didn't think so. Upon parting, which we were disinclined to do, he said he had felt not only blessed by the encounter, but certain we were supposed to meet. "Usually, we just get our coffee and go," he said. "But something told me to comment on your keycard; not what I'd normally do."

They both looked me back straight in the eye, which I liked. I think you get soul-to-soul that way. In the same manner I'd get naked-to-naked, skin-to-skin with my kids when they were babies. It's a way I like to connect and the manner in which I recently greeted wounded American soldiers back from Afghanistan. Mostly amputees and those with limited mobility that I think rarely get seen as whole. (link) Looking someone square in the eyes helps me witness their essence, their wholeness.

Scott's eyes told me more than his words. At some point in the conversation, I mentioned how wise they seemed for their ages, mid 30s. That blew Scott away. "Just today, I was praying for wisdom and right here, right now, you just gave me my answer."

How often do we experience this? Perhaps more than we recognize.

Well, they had to be on their way and we soon had to be on ours. We vowed to meet again at Starbucks because we just knew we would. They left ahead of us and as I was packing up, I used the last $10 in my wallet to buy a gift card for them next time they visited. A random act of kindness? A thank you for such instantly deep community? A desire to see them again? Who knows? Only Spirit. 

• When have I felt on a wave of Spirit?
• What was it like?
• What were my experiences?
• Who or what came into my path?
• How did I express gratitude? 

whisking in,
12-year-old
in tow

a quick
coffee break
before retrieving
the older one
from band practice 

about to settle
in on a nice,
hot chai,
when an energetic
stranger asks
me a question

the answer leads
to conversation
and a knowingness
by both parties

that we were not
strangers

we, reluctantly,
part company

I return to my drink 

 ... and it is still hot* 

 *homage to my favorite book, the last line, from Maurice Sendak's "Where the Wild Things Are"