Memoir – Page 4 – Janis Dehler

A Death and a Duchess

I met her after the death, after she was found, arms wrapped around her son’s lifeless body, dead for three days.

The location where the pair were found was a residential hotel in a destitute area of downtown Minneapolis, he dead from malnutrition, she clinging to life and yes, death. With no food or water, her senses dulled, the odor of his death becoming her own with the line of separation melting as they become one, waiting for the grave. She wanted and hoped that she would die with her son, but it was not to be as other tenants smelled the demise and authorities whisked her away.

Her room was one room with a bed shoved against the wall, papers strewn about, filth evident everywhere. This was my job in the mid to late 80’s, the social service arm of a private attorney managing guardianships for those who could no longer make reasonable decisions for their care. Now, discovered, Dora came under his management and my concern. Generally, I felt good about the work I was doing, the help I could provide people who could not cope on their own.

I next saw Dora in a stark room with shiny linoleum floor and bare cream-colored walls with light streaming in through the window. This cleanliness defied the smell that assaulted me as I entered with a fan blowing the putrid smell of urine and feces into my face. I saw her sitting in her wheelchair, a toothless grin on her face, cat eye rimmed glasses, thick yellow greying hair pulled back in a ponytail, emaciated from the lack of food, nothing more than a towel covering her bare bottom. I wondered, how have you survived?

The nurses expressed frustration, and I had agreed to talk to Dora about her behavior. I had brought with me a few of her worldly possessions that rested in our storage in four plastic bags and two large boxes. The lot of it mainly containing bits of paper, her son’s manuscript, old plastic bags, one dress, a sweater, a few cooking utensils, and a picture.

We reenter a discussion we had on my last visit:

Me: Dora, I understand you are still urinating in cups.

Dora gives me a nervous laugh and a look of insult.

Me: The nurses tell me you won’t use the toilet.
Dora: No, I won’t. It’s dirty. I can’t sit on it.

Me: I looked, Dora, and the toilet and bathroom are clean. I understand you go to the toilet in your chair or in paper cups and put them in drawers.
Dora: I don’t do that. Whoever told you that is lying. I need to live in a place where I can work on my son’s book. It is all I have left of him.

I sigh as I focus my gaze out the window.

Me: Dora, I am tired of the same conversation and having to come over and check on you for not using the toilet.
Dora: You know they have no right to treat me this way, I am a Duchess. I have the papers to prove it. They are at my nephews. And my niece is Bette Midler

Me: Yes, Dora, I saw the mail order papers declaring you a Duchess of a nonexistent nation.
Dora: I am on a cardiac diet. I can’t eat what they give me; it breaks my veins. I need to live alone in a hotel so I can get my meals at a restaurant and order what I like.

I listen, let Dora vent, and realize that all she is asking for is what we all desire, the freedom to choose, to live life as we want to live, believe what we want to believe. I wish for Dora to have this freedom, make choices that I might not make, and let her be. I wish for her that she could live in her own room under her own decision making, that she is a Duchess, work on her son’s manuscript, eat or not eat, as she chooses. It is what we all want. I have seen her son’s manuscript and wish for her that it was more than reams of undecipherable numbers and letters and symbols and squiggly lines.

In this moment, as I look around this room, smell the putrid smells, listen to the ramble of words, I wonder, what pain in your life brought you to this, Dora? What life events, circumstances, brought you to see this as a reality, to accept this as a life? And I realize, peeing in cups and hiding them is her effort at taking control of her life in whatever way possible.

I tell this story because it stayed with me through the years as a moment of truly seeing that at our core, we are all the same. We were both born with different tendencies, DNA, and life circumstances but in our humanity, Dora, and I both fiercely loved our children, both had thoughts that created our life, did things out of habit with some becoming an obsession, both wanted love and pleasure and avoided pain as best we could. To a more or lesser degree, we both believed our thoughts rather than letting them go.

Dora was the most challenging client I had encountered during those four years and the best teacher. There was not much I could offer her, but she was now in a place that could provide her with medication, psychiatric services, a place to grieve her losses, and maybe a move into a healthier future. Sitting with her, I felt more firmly committed to the course I had set in motion and was preparing for, wanting to work with individuals earlier in their healing process.

Dora taught me, get your thoughts in order, heal your losses, open your heart, make peace. It is the only path to truly live in freedom.

“…grief and the spirit were the two common denominators, the two underlying characteristics of all people, the ever present potential for hell or heaven at any moment.”
Stephen Levine, Unattended Sorrow

“Freedom is not worth having if it does not include the freedom to make mistakes.”
Mahatma Ghandi

And, one of my favorites:

“The truth will set you free, but first it will piss you off.”
Joe Klaas, Twelve Steps to Happiness

On Going Resource List

The Gene Keys: Emracing Your Higher Purpose by Riuchard Rudd
Your Brain on Art: How the Arts Inform Us by Susan Magsamen and Ivy Ross
A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle
Energy Speaks: Messages from Spirit on Living, Loving, and Awakening by Lee Harris
Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself: How to Lose Your Mind and Create an New One by Dr. Joe Dispenza
The Women by Kristin Hannah
Cosmogenesis: An Unveiling of the Expanding Universe by Brian Thomas Swimme
The Mastery of Love, Don Miguel Ruiz
Change Your Thoughts—Change Your Life: Living the Wisdom of the Tao, by Dr. Wayne W. Dyer
God of Love: A Guide to the Heart of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, by Mirabai Starr
The Four Agreements: A Toltec Book of Wisdom by Don Miguel Ruiz
Mindfulness and Grief by Heather Stang
How We Live Is How We Die by Pema Chödron
The Bhagavad Gita, Translated by Eknath Easwaran
St Francis of Assisi: Brother of Creation by Mirabai Starr
Wild Wisdom Edited by Neil Douglas-Klotz
Earth Prayers From Around The World, Ed by Elizabeth Roberts & Elias Amidon
The Tao of Relationships by Ray Grigg
Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom by John O’Donohue
Unconditional Love and Forgiveness by Edith R. Stauffer, Ph.D.
Keep Going: The Art of Perseverance by Joseph M. Marshall III
Art & Fear by David Bayless & Ted Orland
Quantum-Touch by Richard Gordon
The Van Gogh Blues: The Creative Persons Path Through Depression by Eric Maisel, PhD
The Faraway Nearby by Rebecca Solnit
Amazing Grace: A Vocabulary of Faith by Kathleen Norris
Forever Ours: Real Stories of Immortality and Living by Janis Amatuzio
Personal Power Through Awareness by Sanaya Roman
Violence & Compassion by His Holiness the Dahlai Lama
Teachings on Love by Thich Nhat Hanh
Devotions by Mary Oliver
To Bless the Space Between Us by John O’Donohue
Meditations From the Mat by Rolf Gates and Katrina Kenison
The House of Belonging: poems by David Whyte
Full Catastrophe Living: Using the Wisdom of Your Body and Mind to Face Stress, Pain and Illness, by Jon Kabat-Zinn
The Faraway Nearby by Rebecca Solnit
Soul an Archaeology Edited by Phil Cousineau
A Path With Heart by Jack Kornfield
Listening Point by Sigurd Olson
I Sit Listening to the Wind by Judith Duerk
Dancing Moons by Nancy Wood
The Soul of Rumi, Translations by Coleman Barks
Keep Going by Joseph M. Marshall III
Arriving at your own Door by Jon Kabat-Zinn
The Untethered Soul by Michael Singer
The Hidden Secrets of Water by Paolo Consigli
Conquest of Mind by Eknath Easwaran
Color: A Natural History of the Palette by Victoria Finlay
Peace is Every Step by Thich Nhat Hanh
I Thought It Was Just Me (But It Isn’t) by Brene Brown
Practicing Peace in Times of War by Pema Chodron
When Things Fall Apart by Pema Chodron
On Death and Dying by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross
Unattended Sorrow by Stephen Levine
Joy in Loving, Mother Theresa
The Joy of Living by Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche
Let Your LIfe Speak by Parker Palmer
Zen and the Art of Saving the Planet by Thich Nhat Hanh
The Essence of the Upanishads by Eknath Easwaran
Welcoming the Unwelcome by Pema Chodron
Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer
Medicine Cards: The Discovery of Power Through The Ways Of Animals by Jamie Sams and David Carson

A Dinner Party for Eight

The dinner was black tie,
our own interpretation,
with imagination,
exceptional, she said. 

John arrived with a work glove
tucked in his shirt,
Peter a paper top hat,
a bow tie and vest.

Couples in youth, bending
toward then, celebrate 
now; love, romance, 
friendship – sacrament – we said.

A crown roast centered the table
with little white hats for the bones. 
We blessed our meal, toasted our hosts,
and dined with heart to our fill.

Post dinner entertainment
brought the women to sing.
The men went out to the porch 
to work up their routine.

What I remember after,
was laughter,
a flash, and
the glow of four moons.

©Janis Dehler

“A smile starts on the lips, a grin spreads to the eyes, a chuckle comes from the belly; but a good laugh bursts forth from the soul, overflows, and bubbles all around.”
Carolyn Birmingham

“In the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures. For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.“
Khalil Gibran

“Each friend represents a world in us, a world not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.“
Anais Nin

May the love and laughter that is in our hearts today overflow from within us and spread throughout the world like a wildfire, blessing all in its path. May we each know even a moment of loving kindness.

Ongoing Resouce List

The Gene Keys: Emracing Your Higher Purpose by Riuchard Rudd
Your Brain on Art: How the Arts Inform Us by Susan Magsamen and Ivy Ross
A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle
Energy Speaks: Messages from Spirit on Living, Loving, and Awakening by Lee Harris
Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself: How to Lose Your Mind and Create an New One by Dr. Joe Dispenza
The Women by Kristin Hannah
Cosmogenesis: An Unveiling of the Expanding Universe by Brian Thomas Swimme
The Mastery of Love, Don Miguel Ruiz
Change Your Thoughts—Change Your Life: Living the Wisdom of the Tao, by Dr. Wayne W. Dyer
God of Love: A Guide to the Heart of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, by Mirabai Starr
The Four Agreements: A Toltec Book of Wisdom by Don Miguel Ruiz
Mindfulness and Grief by Heather Stang
How We Live Is How We Die by Pema Chödron
The Bhagavad Gita, Translated by Eknath Easwaran
St Francis of Assisi: Brother of Creation by Mirabai Starr
Wild Wisdom Edited by Neil Douglas-Klotz
Earth Prayers From Around The World, Ed by Elizabeth Roberts & Elias Amidon
The Tao of Relationships by Ray Grigg
Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom by John O’Donohue
Unconditional Love and Forgiveness by Edith R. Stauffer, Ph.D.
Keep Going: The Art of Perseverance by Joseph M. Marshall III
Art & Fear by David Bayless & Ted Orland
Quantum-Touch by Richard Gordon
The Van Gogh Blues: The Creative Persons Path Through Depression by Eric Maisel, PhD
The Faraway Nearby by Rebecca Solnit
Amazing Grace: A Vocabulary of Faith by Kathleen Norris
Forever Ours: Real Stories of Immortality and Living by Janis Amatuzio
Personal Power Through Awareness by Sanaya Roman
Violence & Compassion by His Holiness the Dahlai Lama
Teachings on Love by Thich Nhat Hanh
Devotions by Mary Oliver
To Bless the Space Between Us by John O’Donohue
Meditations From the Mat by Rolf Gates and Katrina Kenison
The House of Belonging: poems by David Whyte
Full Catastrophe Living: Using the Wisdom of Your Body and Mind to Face Stress, Pain and Illness, by Jon Kabat-Zinn
The Faraway Nearby by Rebecca Solnit
Soul an Archaeology Edited by Phil Cousineau
A Path With Heart by Jack Kornfield
Listening Point by Sigurd Olson
I Sit Listening to the Wind by Judith Duerk
Dancing Moons by Nancy Wood
The Soul of Rumi, Translations by Coleman Barks
Keep Going by Joseph M. Marshall III
Arriving at your own Door by Jon Kabat-Zinn
The Untethered Soul by Michael Singer
The Hidden Secrets of Water by Paolo Consigli
Conquest of Mind by Eknath Easwaran
Color: A Natural History of the Palette by Victoria Finlay
Peace is Every Step by Thich Nhat Hanh
I Thought It Was Just Me (But It Isn’t) by Brene Brown
Practicing Peace in Times of War by Pema Chodron
When Things Fall Apart by Pema Chodron
On Death and Dying by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross
Unattended Sorrow by Stephen Levine
Joy in Loving, Mother Theresa
The Joy of Living by Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche
Let Your LIfe Speak by Parker Palmer
Zen and the Art of Saving the Planet by Thich Nhat Hanh
The Essence of the Upanishads by Eknath Easwaran
Welcoming the Unwelcome by Pema Chodron
Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer
Medicine Cards: The Discovery of Power Through The Ways Of Animals by Jamie Sams and David Carson

The Journey to BE

El Camino: Entering the Calm
by Janis Dehler

The wonderful irony about this spiritual journey is that we find that it only leads us to become just as we are. The exalted state of enlightenment is nothing more than fully knowing ourselves and our world, just as we are.
Pema Chodron, Welcoming the Unwelcome

…the whole modern world has been laboring under this one colossal superstition – that we are not what we are, and are what we really are not… It is no exaggeration to say that if civilization is to survive, this false idea of personality has to be abandoned…we have to disidentify ourselves with this shadow image and learn to identify ourselves completely with the Self.
Eknath Easwaran, The Essence of the Upanishads

My first response to Pema Chodron’s quote was laughter. Yes, the irony of it all and how hard I worked for more than half my life trying to figure out the big mystery of “how”. How to be all that is good. How to be all that is perfect. How to be all that is someone, wife, mother, friend, daughter. As everyone born into this world, I learned about living from family and society, how to get along, how to cover up my faults, how to fill the many roles we take on, and in the end, believing that this me just needed to be better. I learned to see others through this distorted window as well, seeing them in my version of them while they were seeing me in their version of me.

A memory is triggered in the quote of Pema Chodron from the year 2001 while visiting my daughter in Boulder, Colorado. This was a period in my life with a good amount of change, empty nest, career moves, trying to know the me outside the roles I had taken on— all the versions of me. I made an appointment with a gifted astrologer, a teacher of my daughter, a young man from Israel who continues to be a friend and a wisdom figure. As we talked through what I was struggling with in feeling not enough, disconnected, the heartaches formed over the years, he simply said to me in his kind and caring manner, “Simply be you. Let the light and beauty within you shine.” My response to this man who in those two sentences seemed to be speaking in a foreign language was, “But how do I do that? I don’t know how!”

I see that younger me now and in my best Scottish accent (I have been watching way too many British shows) I say to that me, “Are ye daft, child?” At that time, in his kindness, after a pause of reflection, he offered, “There is no ‘how’, there is only, ‘be’.” I went away befuddled.

When it no longer works to live in roles and expectations, the beliefs that have not been fully questioned or opened to explore all come pouring out leaving us feeling empty, stripped of all the containers that we operate out of in our navigation of this world. There is no clear road map on how to unwind from all this learning and be, be me, whoever this me is beneath the one who knows the role and how to fill it. Just tell me what to do, A, B, or C. What is BE? To be or not to be, that is the question. To be or to how—that was my question! What I have come to know is that there is no blueprint, no how; I am the only me there is, and you are the only you.

I wonder now what it would be like to be raised believing that it is not perfection we seek but rather our wholeness as spirits embodied in human flesh that we wish to unite with and open to. Our birthright. Our reason for being. Oneness with the Divine which is ultimately one with all life. So much energy is wasted with the feelings of blaming, judging, and lack, in self and other. For years, I created suffering around feeling not seen. In truth, I was not seeing me either, merely me in the roles I played.

While there is no blueprint or rules to follow and there is no right way or wrong or good or bad in this journey of BE, there are, surely enough, guideposts. Information in our spiritual traditions that help train us to enter quiet, to open our hearts, to center in our bodies, to be of service, to forgive, to feel compassion, and to build the metaphorical muscles needed to focus and to truly see and open full hearted to ourselves, our neighbor, the trees, the moon, the stars, those we disagree with, those who hurt or wound, and all that is within us that we have held in shame, hate, or dislike.

At one time we were taught that what we think of as me, the personality, is constant. As with everything in life, rather than being constant we are in process as we learn, open, become consciously aware, and attain more freedom to choose. While we may tend to be abrupt, we learn to breathe first before responding. While we may appear intense, we learn to be calm as well. While we may be quiet by nature, we learn to speak up. While living a busy life we learn to sit in prayer or meditation. We can learn to see, face our fears, live with peace of mind, and be in compassion. Baby step by baby step we make our way beyond the learned behavior, roles, and attitudes to that place of goodness within each of us, learning to be and operate out of that, the core of our existence, one with all life, exactly as we are.

On a given day in our sitting practice, there are moments when we breathe in the vast vista before us and then there are moments when all we can see are thoughts running like a train load of boxcars, speeding across our view, laden with all the stuff of life, of the day, of then, when, and how, and we practice letting them all go. We then move into the duties of our day bringing freshness and life to the tasks at hand, not living a role, but creatively living each moment, in our lack of perfection, with purpose, and ease.

It is, it all is. This life. This love. This patience. It is this.

Learning to ‘be’ can seem like an insurmountable task that we take on until the end of this life. It is dedicated hard work in its seemingly absurd simplicity, but we enter, keep going, seeing, learning, opening, and loving, just as we are.

In Memory of Thich Nhat Hanh, a wisdom figure who moved on from this world during this past week, who has brought healing awareness to me and so many, and will continue to live on through his teachings, books, and legacy, and the energy through which he so beautifully graced our world. I bow to you, Thay.

Ongoing Resource List

The Gene Keys: Emracing Your Higher Purpose by Riuchard Rudd
Your Brain on Art: How the Arts Inform Us by Susan Magsamen and Ivy Ross
A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle
Energy Speaks: Messages from Spirit on Living, Loving, and Awakening by Lee Harris
Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself: How to Lose Your Mind and Create an New One by Dr. Joe Dispenza
The Women by Kristin Hannah
Cosmogenesis: An Unveiling of the Expanding Universe by Brian Thomas Swimme
The Mastery of Love, Don Miguel Ruiz
Change Your Thoughts—Change Your Life: Living the Wisdom of the Tao, by Dr. Wayne W. Dyer
God of Love: A Guide to the Heart of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, by Mirabai Starr
The Four Agreements: A Toltec Book of Wisdom by Don Miguel Ruiz
Mindfulness and Grief by Heather Stang
How We Live Is How We Die by Pema Chödron
The Bhagavad Gita, Translated by Eknath Easwaran
St Francis of Assisi: Brother of Creation by Mirabai Starr
Wild Wisdom Edited by Neil Douglas-Klotz
Earth Prayers From Around The World, Ed by Elizabeth Roberts & Elias Amidon
The Tao of Relationships by Ray Grigg
Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom by John O’Donohue
Unconditional Love and Forgiveness by Edith R. Stauffer, Ph.D.
Keep Going: The Art of Perseverance by Joseph M. Marshall III
Art & Fear by David Bayless & Ted Orland
Quantum-Touch by Richard Gordon
The Van Gogh Blues: The Creative Persons Path Through Depression by Eric Maisel, PhD
The Faraway Nearby by Rebecca Solnit
Amazing Grace: A Vocabulary of Faith by Kathleen Norris
Forever Ours: Real Stories of Immortality and Living by Janis Amatuzio
Personal Power Through Awareness by Sanaya Roman
Violence & Compassion by His Holiness the Dahlai Lama
Teachings on Love by Thich Nhat Hanh
Devotions by Mary Oliver
To Bless the Space Between Us by John O’Donohue
Meditations From the Mat by Rolf Gates and Katrina Kenison
The House of Belonging: poems by David Whyte
Full Catastrophe Living: Using the Wisdom of Your Body and Mind to Face Stress, Pain and Illness, by Jon Kabat-Zinn
The Faraway Nearby by Rebecca Solnit
Soul an Archaeology Edited by Phil Cousineau
A Path With Heart by Jack Kornfield
Listening Point by Sigurd Olson
I Sit Listening to the Wind by Judith Duerk
Dancing Moons by Nancy Wood
The Soul of Rumi, Translations by Coleman Barks
Keep Going by Joseph M. Marshall III
Arriving at your own Door by Jon Kabat-Zinn
The Untethered Soul by Michael Singer
The Hidden Secrets of Water by Paolo Consigli
Conquest of Mind by Eknath Easwaran
Color: A Natural History of the Palette by Victoria Finlay
Peace is Every Step by Thich Nhat Hanh
I Thought It Was Just Me (But It Isn’t) by Brene Brown
Practicing Peace in Times of War by Pema Chodron
When Things Fall Apart by Pema Chodron
On Death and Dying by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross
Unattended Sorrow by Stephen Levine
Joy in Loving, Mother Theresa
The Joy of Living by Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche
Let Your LIfe Speak by Parker Palmer
Zen and the Art of Saving the Planet by Thich Nhat Hanh
The Essence of the Upanishads by Eknath Easwaran
Welcoming the Unwelcome by Pema Chodron
Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer
Medicine Cards: The Discovery of Power Through The Ways Of Animals by Jamie Sams and David Carson

Living Like Sweetgrass

sweet is the grass that clears my mind

The forces of creation and destruction are so tightly linked that sometimes we can’t tell where one begins and the other leaves off.
Robin Wall Kimmerer, Braiding Sweetgrass

Sweetgrass is a perennial grass with hollow stems and underground rhizomes. It has a purple, red, and white hairless base and can grow to about 30 inches tall. … This aromatic grass is found in wetlands, wet meadows, and marshes—all environments that are in decline due to human impact and the climate crisis.
Museum of Natural History, University of Colorado Boulder

My daughter and family gave me the book Braiding Sweetgrass for Christmas and at the rate I am going through the book, it will take a year—a readers delight of pause and reflect. The above quote by Kimmerer captured my imagination and has been lurking in the shadows of my mind for the past couple of weeks.

I think we all know deep within our bones the truth of creation and destruction as in the ocean and a wave. The ocean is a force of creation. One that is life giving and one that also takes life when the ocean forms a wave that wipes out a village. When this happens is not a defined moment but a continual ongoing process, one within the other. It is the wind within the air that takes down life, trees, and animals and is still the air we breathe to survive. It is the fire that cooks our food and warms us that burns our homes, people, animals, and forests.

What then is creation and destruction within each of us? This one is harder to see and acknowledge. I see it in our journey as humans to wholeness. I see it in the body that is moving to death and housing a spirit that is alive and creating. We know it in unwanted change that comes our way demanding that we think differently, view the world through a different lens, open our hearts to those whom we had disregarded. We all have these points in our lives when we recognize not only the growth and regeneration but the coming apart, the breaking of heart, that happens in the process. Not a moment but a process that awakens us to our own life experience. At times this can be painfully difficult, and it feels like we are being torn asunder. It can feel like a part of us is dying when in truth we are also opening to creation within ourselves.

When I hiked El Camino in 2017 with my sister, Di, the path to Rabanal, increasing in elevation, requiring our focus, our dexterity, and our will, became a visceral experience of destruction within construction. In my journal, I write, we walk more miles of forest and farmland and then on up a steep grade with a path filled with shale. We climb 255 meters and the last 2.5 kilometers of distance through what Di, terms “Golgotha”, the hill in Jerusalem which was the site of Jesus’ crucifixion. We climb through paths of shale with each step tiring and challenging as the shale slides beneath our feet. Further along we encounter a fence that runs along the trail for a few miles and is lined with crosses that people have made from sticks, branches, and bits of cloth, left over the years, and attached to the fence in various ways. There is no way to really prepare for this day. It is one of images, reflections, and exhaustion.

The Shale Path

This unfolding of effort, exhaustion, and recognition was not a point but an awareness—our destruction within our construction. The entire journey was an unfolding of self, an enlarging of self, a recognition of self within Self, the Sacred, the Holy.

“Golgatha”

While we were just building our strength after barely a week of hiking, this point of the journey felt like we were beginning to be taken apart. It did not start here, nor did it end at the destination of the trip. It is life, the ongoing process of humanity. Later that night trying to sleep in exhaustion and cold, I felt like I had regressed to my six-year-old self, wanting warmth, comfort, and feeling lost in a sea of emotion and thoughts of suffering that the images and experiences of the day highlighted for me with many religious depictions and training from childhood floating through my mind. In this dark moment, I felt like I was merely surviving but, in truth, I was thriving.

There was a seed of truth that I awakened to during this night that allowed for change in me and an opening to joy in the subsequent days. Suffering is not the goal, nor is it of value in and of itself. Suffering is not the same as pain; my suffering was being created by my desire for all that was not available to me on this night, with old emotions, memories, and attitudes running through me, and my concern for tomorrow and how we were going to make it if we went on in the way we were currently managing things.

There is an adage that states “pain is inevitable, suffering is optional.” Pain can be experienced at an emotional, physical, psychological, or spiritual level but it is how we create our stories around our pain or painful experience, our fears that form, our willful desires that get triggered, that creates our suffering. Our suffering happens when we ignore or try to stifle that which is painful rather than fully feeling, allowing, and bringing awareness to our experience. I felt relief over the next couple of days as I gradually opened to my feelings and could choose to change my thinking and thereby my full experience as it unfolded—creation within destruction— realizing that we could accommodate this pilgrimage to our needs, that there is not one way to walk the Camino nor life itself. As Di was being injured physically, we could create options that best suited us, allowing our hearts to open to the challenges and the joys before us in each day, supporting ourselves and each other.

It thrives along disturbed edges.
Robin Wall Kimmerer, Braiding Sweetgrass

We all long for peace, love, and comfort, and it is hard to understand anything thriving in “disturbed edges” as sweetgrass does. When I attempt to relate this statement to my life, I remember arriving at an understanding developed over the years that my body needs warmth, warm moist food, stability, and routine that I can count on. You can keep your disturbed edges, thank you very much! For years I disregarded what my body needed as I disengaged from my body and put my interests elsewhere. I now understand; it is not in the comfort and ease I seek through which I grow, as that keeps me stable and in a resting point, nor is it through the suffering that comes from ignoring or resenting, as that keeps me blind and my heart closed, it is through opening to the disturbed edges of my mind, my life, the losses, the discomfort, as well as the beauty and the joys that bring me to awakening, to freedom of choice, and to mindful compassionate living, for myself and others.

Do we merely survive, or do we thrive? Surviving allows us to move from one thing to another making sure we have what we need to make it through, trying to avoid pain while trying to feel love and some measure of happiness. To thrive, we don’t run from the pain but enter it with our whole being, letting it create within us. Like sweetgrass that grows in areas of decline and sends out its rhizomes deep within the earth stabilizing the land and creating new life that will mature to fullness all down the line, we accept the fullness of our lives in pain, comfort, joy, and sorrow, and send out the sweetness of self to bring new life into the world in joy and forgiveness, and kindness.

I want to be like sweetgrass, thriving along disturbed edges. But hey, give me a calm routine day, any day, and I will joyfully rest for a bit in its stable support.

On Going Resource List

The Gene Keys: Emracing Your Higher Purpose by Riuchard Rudd
Your Brain on Art: How the Arts Inform Us by Susan Magsamen and Ivy Ross
A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle
Energy Speaks: Messages from Spirit on Living, Loving, and Awakening by Lee Harris
Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself: How to Lose Your Mind and Create an New One by Dr. Joe Dispenza
The Women by Kristin Hannah
Cosmogenesis: An Unveiling of the Expanding Universe by Brian Thomas Swimme
The Mastery of Love, Don Miguel Ruiz
Change Your Thoughts—Change Your Life: Living the Wisdom of the Tao, by Dr. Wayne W. Dyer
God of Love: A Guide to the Heart of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, by Mirabai Starr
The Four Agreements: A Toltec Book of Wisdom by Don Miguel Ruiz
Mindfulness and Grief by Heather Stang
How We Live Is How We Die by Pema Chödron
The Bhagavad Gita, Translated by Eknath Easwaran
St Francis of Assisi: Brother of Creation by Mirabai Starr
Wild Wisdom Edited by Neil Douglas-Klotz
Earth Prayers From Around The World, Ed by Elizabeth Roberts & Elias Amidon
The Tao of Relationships by Ray Grigg
Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom by John O’Donohue
Unconditional Love and Forgiveness by Edith R. Stauffer, Ph.D.
Keep Going: The Art of Perseverance by Joseph M. Marshall III
Art & Fear by David Bayless & Ted Orland
Quantum-Touch by Richard Gordon
The Van Gogh Blues: The Creative Persons Path Through Depression by Eric Maisel, PhD
The Faraway Nearby by Rebecca Solnit
Amazing Grace: A Vocabulary of Faith by Kathleen Norris
Forever Ours: Real Stories of Immortality and Living by Janis Amatuzio
Personal Power Through Awareness by Sanaya Roman
Violence & Compassion by His Holiness the Dahlai Lama
Teachings on Love by Thich Nhat Hanh
Devotions by Mary Oliver
To Bless the Space Between Us by John O’Donohue
Meditations From the Mat by Rolf Gates and Katrina Kenison
The House of Belonging: poems by David Whyte
Full Catastrophe Living: Using the Wisdom of Your Body and Mind to Face Stress, Pain and Illness, by Jon Kabat-Zinn
The Faraway Nearby by Rebecca Solnit
Soul an Archaeology Edited by Phil Cousineau
A Path With Heart by Jack Kornfield
Listening Point by Sigurd Olson
I Sit Listening to the Wind by Judith Duerk
Dancing Moons by Nancy Wood
The Soul of Rumi, Translations by Coleman Barks
Keep Going by Joseph M. Marshall III
Arriving at your own Door by Jon Kabat-Zinn
The Untethered Soul by Michael Singer
The Hidden Secrets of Water by Paolo Consigli
Conquest of Mind by Eknath Easwaran
Color: A Natural History of the Palette by Victoria Finlay
Peace is Every Step by Thich Nhat Hanh
I Thought It Was Just Me (But It Isn’t) by Brene Brown
Practicing Peace in Times of War by Pema Chodron
When Things Fall Apart by Pema Chodron
On Death and Dying by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross
Unattended Sorrow by Stephen Levine
Joy in Loving, Mother Theresa
The Joy of Living by Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche
Let Your LIfe Speak by Parker Palmer
Zen and the Art of Saving the Planet by Thich Nhat Hanh
The Essence of the Upanishads by Eknath Easwaran
Welcoming the Unwelcome by Pema Chodron
Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer
Medicine Cards: The Discovery of Power Through The Ways Of Animals by Jamie Sams and David Carson

Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer

Darkness Into Light

Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.
Martin Luther King Jr

The darkness declares the glory of light.
T.S. Elliot

December is a busy month of celebrations with many focused on the arrival of light. It is not by accident that these holy events take place in the darkest days of the year. Hanukkah is known as the Festival of Lights. Bodhi Day celebrates the day Siddhartha Gautama achieved enlightenment. Solstice or Yule is a pagan celebration on the shortest day of the year celebrating the return of the sun and is a festival of rebirth. Christmas is a day of honoring the birth of Jesus the Christ. In John 8:12, we read that Jesus referred to himself in these words, “I am the light of the world.”

We all know what we would consider a dark time, individually or collectively. Times when we have lost our way, said goodbye to a loved one through death or betrayal, lived through battle in war, devastating illness, and any condition when we feel separated from our inner life. We have learned to fear the dark as a place where we can get hijacked by disturbing thoughts, lack of hope, painful memories, or a feeling of emptiness. As children we grew fearful when the lights were turned off. Not trusting the dark, we saw monsters in the corner; what was once our favorite yellow toy truck now is an animal waiting to pounce. When we cannot see, we do not know how to orient ourselves. Our imagination grows wild. In our fear we don’t think to wonder what it is we are really seeing. We want light. We want what we perceive as truth, reality.

Life cannot survive without light and the smallest of seeds cannot germinate deep in the soil without the rich moist darkness surrounding it. We will not die from lack of sunlight, but prolonged lack of light will bring us to illness which will then take our life. These are references to light from an external source, the sun, or a light bulb but what this season is really reminding us of is the light within each of us. A light that has gotten clouded over, diminished, or forgotten. It is what Jesus spoke of in proclaiming himself ‘the light of the world’. Here he is speaking of the internal light that so radiates from him he becomes a guiding principle available to all, a source of spiritual light. Buddha also found that light source as have the rare few who continue to guide us and help us find our way.

As adults we can still fear the dark for many reasons. Trauma, despairing thoughts, layers of insecurity and doubt, and all the conditioning we have learned that keeps us from our true self. All the mental junk mail that arrives daily and that we have not filtered out, over time creating a perception of self and of the world that does not serve us well.

If we cannot live without external sunlight, how do we survive in our soul’s journey without awakening to the light within? Meditation and contemplative prayer are avenues to that light. When first learning to sit in meditation or contemplative prayer with eyes closed, we can feel anxious about what we might find. What is supposed to happen? In the inner dark and quiet we experience the jumbled thoughts of our mind, the lack of direction, the desire to be done now, the impatience for light and the opening of our eyes. We are outer referenced and want the light to be on.

The more we practice the more we learn to trust the inner darkness, the quiet, and the workings of the mind. If we bring curiosity, we see the shadow self, all the personality aspects of self we don’t want to admit to or don’t recognize in consciousness, but in themselves are keys to our healing soul, and in recognition and patience open an avenue to the light. This is a common truth for all no matter our political or religious or social beliefs. The billionaire as well as the one living on the street. Our hate and discrimination will not light our way. Light is found in our hearts of love, our compassion, care, and kindness.

In the early 80’s, I was asked to preach during advent, the waiting time before Christmas. It was three years after a dark time in my life, the death of my infant daughter and my continuing struggle with health issues. I was asked to share how I found light in the darkness, what brought me forward, gave me hope in this advent of my life. Simply put, it was light. I consciously chose light, hope, love, and compassion. It has taken me years to understand those words more fully as I continue to live into that choice; I continue to learn and to understand. Like the seed deep within the moist dark humus, we can only grow into our fullness or languish and die. There are not a lot of options.

In that darkness, I learned more about who I am. I looked closely at what was needed to help me to grow— the dung that we place on the garden for the natural nutrients. This is not clean, tidy work; it is digging, weeding, nurturing, pruning with honesty and courage. Choice is not made on one day and then see what happens; choice for light and love is made daily, becomes a discipline, a practice. An embodiment of courage. But in that moment of choice, it also felt natural, an ‘of course’ moment that I had to trust and see where it led me. In doing so we begin to recognize, even briefly, this light in each other. The inner light becoming as important as the outer.

During this season of light, we are reminded. We celebrate. We take stock of where we have come in life. Feel gratitude for life’s blessings and the connection to spirit, the All. To whatever being we have chosen as our guide, our guru, our reflection of what can be, we celebrate the birth of the light of the world, in our hearts, in our very being. We celebrate the return of light in our days. We honor and bow to those who have achieved this rare human occurrence.

May the darkness of these days increase our awareness of all the light there is to see.

Holiday blessings to all.

A Journey of a Forgiving Heart

The mind selects, enhances, and betrays; happenings fade from memory; people forget one another and, in the end, all that remains is the journey of the soul, those rare moments of spiritual revelation.
Isabel Allende from Paula

To understand the judging mind, we need to touch it with a forgiving heart.
Jack Kornfield

Warning to those who have witnessed a violent act and have been subsequently traumatized.

The idea of “happenings fading from memory” and “forgetting one another” at first glance might scare us as we all watch the continually rising rate of dementia as we age, however, looking at these statements from a day to day living viewpoint, I believe we can also consider the propensity for forgetfulness in our thinking selves a boon of our ever-changing brain.

We are all bombarded daily with rampant and random thoughts, those that are judging others, painful memories, resentments, judgement toward ourselves, fears, angers; the mind can be exhausting. With a holiday season and for many of us in all manner of beliefs and traditions, these thoughts might be more burdensome, including the loss of loved ones, depression, anxiety, and lost dreams.

Pestered by the smallest incident of who did not clean out the dryer filter last to a painful experience in childhood that has not been resolved and won’t leave us in peace, our mind selects today’s winner of the mental lottery and runs with it in a circle of exhaustion, upheaval, and self-criticism. The more we fight our thinking the more persistent it becomes. The body and mind are one, hence the body is also aroused in our mental circles with our nervous system responding in increasing heart rate, breathing, and muscular tension. What a blessing it would be to live in this day without dwelling in the past in old hurts that drain our energy or to not lose ourselves in worry for a future that is not yet written but leaves us stuck in inaction.

Many times, we feel helpless with the running of our thoughts; I know I have. One moment stands out for me as a time when I could pull together all the years of meditating and education in mindfulness and other techniques for calming the mind/body that I had learned and tried to practice. It was a cold January morning when a call came letting me know that my colleague, Sarah, had been murdered during the night by her husband. There were enough details gleaned leaving me feeling sickened, shocked, and unmoored—this did not fit my known sense of reality. The event was traumatizing in its gory details with much left to my imagination.

Hanging up the phone, I felt stunned and off balance. Where a moment ago, I knew exactly what I was doing, I now felt like I needed direction. My sister was visiting, and we had a full day planned regarding care for our youngest sister. While a part of me needed time to process this information, I also knew that I did not want it to take over my mental state and consume me as we had a long drive with a long day ahead of us and had to be leaving soon.

I took a few moments to sit quietly and review the information from the call. Saying a blessing prayer for my colleague and her husband and young son, I then visualized all those in my department who would also be hearing this story. I allowed myself to feel the pain and the shock and asked that I and all be held in love as we journeyed through our important duties in this day. I acknowledged to myself that there was nothing more I could do and whatever was happening now for her, and her family, was in the care of other hands. Then, rising from my chair, with my sister in tow, we entered the tasks at hand.

As we drove, I began to watch my mind. An image would come of my colleague, then the murder, and her little boy. Then, I would try to shut it off. No. I do not want to see this. But that never works. The more we say no, the more persistent a memory or a thought becomes. The next time the thought of her arose, I watched it and saw that it began to take me down a road, one that was always seen in my mind to be at my right, and one that I had been following, but not now. When I caught myself beginning on this path, I acknowledged the thought with non-judgement, saying, “Okay, I see you, and now I am thinking of Sarah at work.” I pictured her doing or saying something that brought a smile to my heart and face and then I proceeded to bring myself back to the moment with my breath or in looking around at the world around me.

This is and was hard work. I kept at it throughout the day and into the night and the next day as the thoughts of the trauma continued to rise. The energy for working with this came from knowing that I knew enough of the story and dwelling on it did not offer me any new insight. I was not shutting off my care for her or the reality of this tragedy but working to open my heart to the whole of her life, all the while caring for myself. I was giving my body the time and the trust it needed to calm and to settle as the mind worked to claim its center once again, thus allowing the autonomic nervous system the time it needed to understand it was not needed for fright or flight and I could now breathe, rest, and feel peace.

My experience showed me a way to be compassionate and kind to myself and my thoughts. This story was tragic, shocking, and challenging to work with, and there were many more days and events that followed when I needed to use my will to care for myself. Over time, the mental images I struggled with receded to a fading memory replaced with a recollection of a beautiful woman’s life as I knew her.

As Jack Kornfield states, judging comes in many ways. There are stories and images created in our minds around any event. The ones we tend to cling to come when someone slights us, or when we feel we have not done enough for another, or we have felt misunderstood, or we witness an event, or experience trauma, and on and on. Some are quickly let go of, others linger, coming forward when we are not focused, or we get triggered by something we see or do or hear. It happens equally in our grief stories and our love stories. We replay and recreate and every time we do, we develop a new version of the narrative.

I chose to free this narrative with my heart. Being mindful of the suffering mind of the spouse who acted out his own troubled thoughts. Allowing my heart to open to the young boy left without a mother and father, to the broader hurting families and coworkers. I chose to care for myself as well knowing that I have a challenging time clearing visual images. Choice is essential in working with our mind. We all have the power to choose and we either forget or do not believe this as a viable option.

When we get to the end of life, the detail stories and the list of grievances will not be important, fading from memory, forgotten in the truth of the moment, enveloped in the lifelong task of letting go. The path we trekked, those we met along the way, the kindnesses shown, the compassion developed, the care for each other, from birth to death, is the journey of the soul. That is what we will be taking with us. This is what we are preparing for in the cleaning, the clearing, and the polishing of the heart, all that happens in the rare moments of spiritual revelation.

On Empty Feeling Full

Words are the most powerful thing in the universe… Words are containers. They contain faith, or fear, and they produce after their kind.”
—Charles Capps

I sit and stare at a blank screen trying to conjure up words, craft a sentence, develop a theme. I find nothing new arises, except the awareness that I have used so very many words in my writing over these past days.

Early in the week, my words wove into a tribute to my mother on the 100th anniversary of her birth, followed by my El Camino memories crafting into a broader memoir, then continuing the arduous task of writing my life and complicated ancestry into a more developed timeline in story form for my kids and grandkids.

I realize that within this feeling of empty there resides a deep satisfaction in the artistry of words, flowing like a rhythmic dance, whether they mean anything to anyone else does not intrude. It is the feeling when I am lost in painting and it all connects, when the spices are just right in the dish crafted for dinner, or the tree, the sun, and the shadow align in perfect symmetry for the photo I snap.

Then, there is a moment of empty, a day of rest, or possibly the eternity hidden within the pause between each breath—a long moment to take it in, deep within, and ready myself for the next flash of inspiration. We can’t consume so fully every day. We need rest, contemplation, review, as a time to pull it all together and see the whole.

The truth of this comes to me as it has been a span of four years since I walked El Camino and the full review of my blogs, journal, and post trip review, reveal to me what I could not see then. They point to where I am today. They beg me to go deeper into an event revealing something in me or other that I could not see before. The pause has deepened my experience. The space of time has opened my heart.

Today, empty is a feeling of full.

Where There is Despair, Hope.

All Hallows Eve is upon us. The veil between the physical realm and the spirit realm is thin, as I experienced it upon my mother’s death. A sacred and holy time when we feel the presence of all that is beyond our finite sense of reality. It is the eve before the day of the saints; those who have now become the ancestors; those who we look to for their inspiration and guidance; those who we will become as we in turn decay into food for the soil in a mutual exchange from walking this earth feasting on its abundance. The children dress as goblins and ghouls as they stand up to the dread and anxiety held for this final transformation. We bring laughter to this day as we allow the child within to face her fear.

In this covid time, dying feels closer as we witness the illness, the deaths, the fires burning across the world. Where do we find hope? Where do we find peace for our tender hearts? What do we bring to the alchemy we conjure in turning fear and divisiveness into kindness and caring?

Like the seed that sprouts in the crevasse of rock, the green of will and desire rises and flows, weaving and connecting, bringing the persistence of the living to this momentous time. Let us not shy away from remembering, acknowledging, and honoring all that dies while deciding carefully what we wish to carry forward. It is choice at its finest. Not through the idle movement of habit but through conscious awareness of all that we are and wish to become. Not against something but with, not away from but towards. Knowing that each moment of life is a moment of death as everything changes, cells die off, and memories fade. Forgiveness transforms resentment, love envelopes hate, kindness covers cynicism. Growth and beauty strive forward from the depth of darkness to the brilliance of a new dawn.

And so it is.

Tears From The Heart

The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears, or the sea. Karen Blixen

A friend recently asked if it is okay not to cry as others do. I have encountered this question in the past from clients and at times from myself. Tears are curious things. They can come unexpectedly, unwanted, in torrents, or gently and softly, and not at all. And then we wonder, why?

Tears might come as a simple moistening in the eyes, or gently fall while experiencing another’s pain. They might come quite suddenly in a joyful moment, and we feel our heart burst open. We can feel cleansed after a deep cry. Our body relaxes, softens, and as we breathe and quiet, we might become aware of a larger space within. There are tears after a profound loss that can feel as if we will drown. There are also the tears after humiliation, betrayal, standing up for yourself when all you want is to be angry and confront, and then out pour the tears. Then that feels humiliating. Sometimes tears come after prolonged laugher, the kissin’ cousin of tears, with at times moving into the weeping of deep pain that had been buried or ignored. It can feel as if we have no control, and we don’t. Not really. We can make ourselves cry but that takes some practice and may be a surface experience only. We can at times hold our tears back, bite them back, but then everything else gets all scrunched up and we tighten around the tears or the loss. We can feel like we have not cried at the appropriate time, like at a funeral. Then, a few weeks later, we are watching a Hallmark commercial or a movie or listening to a song and the tears flow, sometimes gently and at times into a sob. We may not find tears at all in a loss experience as our primary feeling might be gratitude or relief.

The tears after profound loss don’t necessarily flow freely. Not for me anyway. After I learned that my baby had birth defects and would not live, I was in shock and numb. I was brought to her in the NICU and on the way there had a panic attack. I could not breathe. Then I saw her in all the wires and machines, and she was beautiful. It was only later, back in my room, away from it all, during our priest’s prayer and blessing, as he placed his hand on my head, that the tears arrived. Even then they were painful but gentle. This loss contained a well of tears that took many tear sessions over a length of time to get to the depth of the well.

After my dad’s death, I went into action. There was funeral planning, a eulogy to write, family arrangements, making sure mom was attended to. It took a few weeks, and seeing I was starting to snap at my husband, for me to realize and own that the pain was being held in too long and I needed to take the time to go to the well. It was the same after my mom’s death except the first tears came in torrents soon after her critical stroke when I knew to my core where this was headed with the difficult decisions needing to be made.

Not having tears does not have to mean one is numb. It does not necessarily mean the heart is closed. The mantra from my childhood goes, “If you are going to cry, go to your room.” It has been hard for me to fully cry in another’s presence. I have had to learn to trust that experience as it does not come naturally. My daughter is my teacher. I marveled since she was young how tears could flow naturally and freely in pain or joy. I treasured her free open expression and realized how the witnessing of her tears opened my heart. Some cultures encourage and live out a very natural robust expression. For others it is stoic. We are a melting pot of an array of expressions, and we cannot judge one against the other. And certainly, we cannot judge ourselves in our experience. At best we bring compassion and curiosity.

My response to my friend’s question? It is all okay. Tears are not required. Rather than, why am I not crying, I might ask; Is there something I am not expressing? What do I wish to express? In what way now do I want to express myself? Create? Build? Write? Sing? Laugh? In what way do I best express myself? Then, after the question, return to the heart and listen.

Tears are healing because they flow from the heart and there is a myriad of ways to express from the heart. When we do allow expression, we feel not only a deeper connection to self but to the greening world around us, to the collective whole, to sacred Oneness. In our honest open expression, we come to an inner silence, the doorway to the Divine.

Going With the Flow

As I wrote in my last posting, I have been making some decisions regarding offering myself once again as a spiritual companion and grief counselor.

After my formal retirement as a Grief Counselor for Allina Hospice, I traveled with Leo for a year enjoying many new explorations, foods, people, and lands. Then in 2020, we entered covid land and I took on many projects in the home, ones that had been queuing up for years. These activities were refreshing and gave me a much needed break from the long accumulation of grief stories as well as time to look back to honor and celebrate the many years of my life through photos and the writing of my life stories.

During these past couple of years, I was asked to offer a grief education and retreat day for the students at Sacred Ground, a Spiritual Direction training center in St. Paul. This one was followed by another and then a private request came for some time with me as a Spiritual Companion. Through these offerings, I was reminded of my love of one to one work and group work that allows me to be of service to others as well as nourish my soul. When I began to wonder where I could give of myself in the community, the answer was to keep giving as I have over the past 30+ years.

I now feel I am ready to once again offer myself to others for support. I will be making myself available, one or two days per week, while honoring my needs for flexibility, travel, and creative endeavors. If you are curious you can click on my new page titled Spiritual Companion/Grief Counseling.

The words, “go with the flow” seem to best describe my desire to follow where I am being led. Change takes us where it will. We can fight it or we can flow with it. Like water in the river we will get buffeted at times, our very presence will change the landscape, we will have times when we feel as if we are floating on our backs in a summer afternoon, and at other times we fear we will never touch the bottom. The following quote by Bruce Lee brings us to this place of letting go. Of being one with. Of being the blessing.

Be Water, My Friend.
Empty your Mind.
Be Formless, shapeless, like water.
You put water into a cup, it becomes the cup.
You put water into a bottle, it becomes the bottle.
You put it into a teapot, it becomes the teapot.
Now water can flow, or it can crash.
Be water, my friend.