Get That You Matter

4Years.Go... a Valentine's Day Invitation

2011-02-14T21:24:00.000-08:00

Happy Valentine's Day.

Wherever you are, whoever you are with, whatever you are doing, I invite you to take a moment and remember what you are grateful for.

Remember what you love about the people in your life,

what you love about where you get to live,

what you love about how many opportunities you have all around you.

Now that you are present to that, I invite you to remember that we are at a crucial time in human history - there is more at stake than ever before. Our children are the first generation of human beings who are being handed a world in worse shape than any previous generation...

and we have a great opportunity to change that.

This is good news.

We have the ability to turn things around.

In other words, we have the capacity to live from Love even more and to bring more potential for good to the world than we could ever dream was possible.

One of the most powerful ways I know of doing that is to make a commitment to the possibility of leaving our children and grandchildren and generations to come with a

Thriving, Just and Sustainable Way of Life for All.

If you believe that this is not only a possibility, but also our responsibility,

I invite you now to make your voice heard by visiting FourYears.Go.

Watch the 3-minute video there -

let it Move you,

let it Inspire you,

let it Remind you that you have the Power to make a difference.

After you watch the video, Declare Your Commitment to this possibility and know that you have joined me and thousands of others who are ready to Be the Change.

Help surpass the goal of 6,000 commitments TODAY!
Watch the video, get Inspired, Commit...

I thank you from the bottom of my heart and wish you a most Breathtakingly Happy Valentine's Day.

Ah, The Daily Dread...

2011-02-06T15:08:00.000-08:00

I woke up again with that feeling of near-dread, almost-anxiety and sort of free-floating fear-slash-worry. It happens almost every day....

Most mornings, I just push it aside like the blankets. But today I laid there in bed and visited with it for a while and asked what it had to tell me. It said, "What if I never go away? What will you do then? What will you do if I am with you every morning for the rest of your life?"

TO READ MORE... visit the full post on the Cafe Gratitude blogsite. Check it out and you'll see what's happening in that amazing community! Feel free to post comments here or at the Cafe Gratitude site. Coming soon... Get That You Matter updates and news on the book, the movement, membership and more!

100 People... 4 years. go.

2011-01-18T08:16:00.000-08:00

A couple months ago I woke up to this blog and video on Superforest (my favorite way to greet the world when I turn on my computer!): Miniature Earth

It really made me think... even more deeply... that, if there were only 100 people in the world, I would of course want to make sure that EVERY ONE OF US had enough food, clean water, shelter, health care. I wouldn't be able to live in a world of 100 where any of the members of my little community was suffering while I was eating enough and sleeping out of the rain. So... if I wouldn't let that happen if the world only had 100 human inhabitants, why do we let that happen in a world of billions and plenty?

TO READ MORE... visit the full post on the Cafe Gratitude blogsite. Check it out and you'll see what's happening in that amazing community! Feel free to post comments here or at the Cafe Gratitude site. Thank you and blessings....

Making the Commitment to Go Carless

2011-01-12T22:15:00.000-08:00

I recently moved to San Francisco and, in doing so, realized that I can get around just fine without a car. So, after 25 years of being a car owner, I decided to take what may seem like a monumental leap in this auto-centric culture and sold my car.

TO READ MORE... visit the full post on the Cafe Gratitude blogsite. You can read this, and a whole lot of other great posts, to see what's happening in that amazing community!

In the meantime, what kind of commitment can you make to lighten your footprint on the planet? What might you do - either one big, decisive action or a new daily practice - that would galvanize your commitment to easing up on our environment?

It's pretty easy if you think about it... all it takes is three steps:

1. Getting that you matter- that your actions and choices (no matter how small) have an impact.

2. Being willing to commit to making different choices, regardless of how small or big they are.

3. Taking consistent action in alignment with those choices.

Let me know how it's going... I'd love to hear! Feel free to post comments here or at the Cafe Gratitude site. Stay tuned to our website, www.getthatyoumatter.com, to learn how you can become part of the Get That You Matter team.

Discovering Oneness at the Planetarium

2011-01-03T11:59:00.000-08:00

Read my story on the Cafe Gratitude blogsite about the show, Life: A Cosmic Story. It's an amazing example of the world of science proving what mystics have been saying for thousands of years... that we are all One.

TO READ MORE... visit the Cafe Gratitude website where you will also see what's happening in that amazing community! Feel free to post comments here or at the Cafe Gratitude site. Coming soon... Get That You Matter updates and news on the book, the movement, membership and more!

Cleaning up the Coast… Cleaning up the Past

2010-12-13T11:28:00.000-08:00

On September 25th (the day before my 48th birthday), I really wanted to chill out and give myself a "day for me" since I was leading a workshop on my birhtday. Instead, I decided to participate in the Coastal Cleanup Campaign – where citizens gather together and pick up trash and debris on the beaches of this beautiful state. It's something I've always wanted to participate in and something I'd never done until this year. Since, however, I live only a ten minute drive from the beach, I felt like I had no excuse not to participate. I'm so glad I did.

TO READ MORE... visit the full post on the Cafe Gratitude blogsite. Check it out and you'll see what's happening in that amazing community! Feel free to post comments here or at the Cafe Gratitude site. Coming soon... Get That You Matter updates and news on the book, the movement, membership and more!

To read more great blogs and get connected to some really amazing stuff going on, check out these links:
http://www.fouryearsgo.org/
http://superforest.org/
http://www.dailyacts.org/
http://storyofstuff.org/
http://challengeday.org/
http://www.debbieford.com/

Superforest, Ommwriter and White Space

2010-11-28T13:15:00.000-08:00

In the midst of helping to plan this ginormous event earlier this month called Leaders Causing Leaders (by FAR the biggest thing I've ever produced - besides my two kids!) which you may have heard about, organizing and leading Cafe Gratitude workshops about once a month in L.A. ...AND starting a business, I actually managed to stay abreast of some really great things. I also had the privilege of meeting some incredible people… one of them being Mathew Harreld, an amazing 19-year-old blogger for Superforest.

He has since become another one of my adopted sons and is now officially part of my family, whether he likes it or not! (Did I tell you this, Mathew? Well, if I didn't, now you know!) I was so inspired by his BEING and his passion for Superforest (and a fabulous endorsement by Jason Mraz that Superforest is his homepage) that I had to check it out myself.

So I did, and since doing so, I am proud and honored to say that Superforest is now my homepage as well! I love booting up my computer in the morning, knowing that the first experience I am going to have is of inspiration, joy and hope. I get to read wonderful words and watch inspiring videos from contributing bloggers around the globe. How cool is that?!?! (Then, I go to my email and read my daily emails from The Daily Love, Mary Morrisey, TUT and the question of the day from Cafe Gratitude. What a fabulous way to start any day - waaaaay better than Wheaties!)

So, here it is November 28th, 2010 and I could write about a whole lot of things... about how I have one dollar in my wallet, about how easy it can be to focus on what I don't have and how easy it can be to forget all that I DO have. I could write about all the things happening "out there" in the world. But honestly, what's coming to mind/heart is how much I LOVE this new writing program I'm using called Ommwriter... you GOTTA check it out.

I know, writing about a program is not the most romantic or even inspiring topic, but truly it is the most beautiful way to write I've ever seen and I plan on using it a WHOLE lot more. I learned about it on Superforest (woohoo!) and am thoroughly in love with it. It makes writing a meditative experience... like an extension of my meditation.

I've noticed that my morning pattern has shifted from getting up and at 'em right out the gate to one of a softer entry to my day. I'm really relishing my quiet time in the mornings, finding myself drawn to getting up earlier again (now that I've pretty much recovered from being completely overextended for the last 6 months)... to meditate, make my cup of tea and write. It feels like my natural rhythm more than getting up and going out for a walk or run. It's slower, more "me friendly," more in alignment with my sensibilities than with the habit of being so much in over- or hyper-drive.

And this program is quickly becoming a wonderful part of that morning quiet time. I mean, listening to beautiful meditation bells or a soft, echoing minimalist symphony just provides this natural state of quiet mind that engenders my creativity and calm connection to what's being asked to come forth in the form of the written word like nothing else I've used before. Way to go Ommwriter folks!

Honestly, I don't - in this moment - feel like there's much I FEEL like writing about other than how good it feels to be quiet, to be connecting to my heart and soul and how much I love this program.

I could write about how lovely it was to spend a few precious days with my kids, their dad and close friends over the holidays. I could write about how I'm moving to San Francisco and all the excitement and newness and logistics around that. I could write about how I'm shifting from living deeply embedded in a story of scarcity and fear to generating a new story of abundance and faith for myself and what a s-t-r-e-t-c-h that is.

But right now, I'm not writing about any of those things. Really, all I want to do is listen to these bells, enjoy writing in the white space of a winter sky and b-r-e-a-t-h-e... deeply and fully, and feel how good it feels to be alive.

On The Road

2010-10-04T23:02:00.000-07:00

I've driven up Love Creek Road countless times, ever since I was a small girl, and hardly a time goes by when I don't feel overjoyed when I turn off the highway and make my way up that winding, uneven ribbon that connects me to my soul affectionately known as "The Road." I always feel such incredible gratitude for my grandparents for having had the foresight to purchase this land - our family's legacy - all those years ago on which I have spent countless hours playing, dreaming, living, loving and growing.

There have been moments in every season when I have marveled, in tears, at the beauty of this road. In summer, the warmth of mid-morning seems to ooze out of every leaf, giving off that particular dusty smell that is only recognizable June through mid-September.

Autumn brings the parade of rusts and oranges of oak, roses and pinks of dogwood, bright yellows of maple, and apples, apples, apples. The rains come again, with that wonderful scent of earth rising, singing to my interior to prepare, to hunker down, to can and put away, to hibernate.

For winter is just around the bend, with its all-encompassing cold bearing the beauty of lacy black branches painted with ice crystals and pine boughs that look like white boxing gloves. The road is an ice palace, a carriage ride through Varykino in Dr. Zhivago. It is absolutely breathtaking.

Then, spring comes with hesitant daffodils, gentle buds of dogwood, the small curls of oak leaves, green shoots in the meadow under a varnish of frost and whisps of woodstove smoke floating through the canyon. It is the new day, the coming 'round of the year to its next birth.

The Road is my beacon in many ways. When I am feeling lost, afraid, faraway or confused, I bring my mind's eye to its grey patches and cracks, reminding me that life's journey is far from pristine. I mentally drive along its twists and turns, feeling calmer by the second as I recall particular turns in the creek dancing alongside, mom's mailbox, the "Forever" sign hanging above her bench in the gently sloping meadow, the barns, my hugging tree, the apple orchard. The colors and smells, the sounds of God whispering through the trees… all of it brings me back home to my heart and soul.

It is a rare gift to have such a place to actually visit when I feel overwhelmed by the world or simply need to recharge my internal batteries. To know that I can go any time I wish holds a sense of freedom and security I can hardy describe. It warms my heart to no end to know, too, that my children feel the same way about this place, this road. That they have had the opportunity to grow up on The Road and learn to love and revere its beauty and depth is the greatest gift I could ever have given them.

I wish for everyone a place like this, whether in reality or imagination. I believe that well all have a place inside where we reconnect with our deepest selves, each other and Spirit. My wish is that these places are as magical, restorative and empowering as The Road.

The Gift of Clarity in a Jar of Juice….

2010-09-20T09:00:00.000-07:00

I did the Café Gratitude Juice Club with Terces Engelhart and hundreds of Juice Club members around the world for the first seven days of this month. (I highly recommend it for those who want to give it a try- you can get more information at www.cafegratitude.com.) And I have to say, I received the most wonderful gift from that time of not eating solid foods... the much-needed gift of reconnecting with my natural daily rhythm.

I've been working tirelessly (unstoppably, I might say!) for the last three months on several projects, one of which is co-producing a conference for 5,000 people in November called Leaders Causing Leaders. (I've never produced anything that big, except my 2 kids!) It's really going to be an amazing event and I hope you can come! Check it out at www.leaderscausingleaders.com. I've also been working on growing the Café Gratitude community here in L.A. by putting together workshops, giving talks and organizing a community of volunteers for various events. Oh, yeah, and then there's the job. Thank God it's not full-time; I don't know how I'd get everything done and stay sane if it was! And now I'm gearing up to finish the book, which has had to go on the back burner for a while… something had to move there, otherwise I'd have had no room to cook!

The thing is, lately I've been getting up early, staying up late and falling asleep at the computer, not exercising as much as I want, and on and on. Being "driven" would be putting it mildly. Being compulsive and slightly mad is more accurate. This is likely not an unfamiliar scenario. So many of us drive ourselves into the ground being the best we can be, while we sacrifice our internal quiet on the altar of getting ahead or doing good. I'm not complaining, I'm just saying that it's so easy to forget to live a balanced life with so many amazing things to do and with the planet making such a clear, loud cry for co-created solutions to what we've done. How could I not get involved?

On the first afternoon of the club, I hit the wall. After a day of driving all over Los Angeles for meetings, toting along my mason jars of juice, broth, almond milk smoothie and a gallon jug of water, I got home in the late afternoon and couldn't do a thing. I felt like a popped tire. So instead of pushing through, which I normally would have done this last couple of months, I decided to go to bed early and get up extra early to meditate and work in the cool, quiet dark and dawn. It was so much better!

I am NOT a night owl (never was)... and for the duration of the juicing, I went to bed at a graceful hour (not nodding off at the computer and feeling bad because I couldn't stay up longer to do more work), taking time to read something "fun" before sleep (Three Cups of Tea right now- wonderful, inspiring story) and getting up at 4:30 or 5 to start my day. I can't tell you what a difference it made. I felt like I was back on my own humane schedule. If the rest of L.A. was up late, doing business at 10 or 11pm- more power to 'em!

It's been a couple weeks since I completed the juice club and I found myself slipping back into the old habit of pushing myself beyond my internal limits in order to keep up with the fast pace of all I'm doing. Thank God, though, I had the blessing of that perspective, of that time away from my habitual overworking and eating without really taking time to consider whether or not I needed to. Something has shifted and I'm being gentler with myself, giving more credence to the voice that says, "Wait. Slow down. Do you really need to eat that? How about getting up early and going to bed now?"

It has not necessarily been easy to continue to listen to that voice, but I am so deeply grateful for reconnecting with it, with my early mornings, and my own rhythm. Even when I feel myself slipping into my acculturated habit, it's been a bit easier to say "no," to readjust, renegotiate and make requests. The thing is, I'm finding that because I am listening to that inner voice and honoring my own rhythm, I'm actually feeling productive in a much more grounded way. I'm learing that I can take care of myself… and, I can still be unstoppable!

LABOR DAY, 2010

2010-09-08T08:03:00.000-07:00

A few months ago, I made a declaration to myself and the Universe. I said, "Let me be used in the biggest way in service to humanity and the planet. Let me be a leader, whatever that looks like. I surrender my ego and my personal wants and comforts in service to the greater good."

I've lived nearly 48 years on this beautiful planet and I feel like my three greatest accomplishments have been my two kids and my 5 years as a Challenge Day Program Leader. And, although being a mom has been the most rewarding job ever, I'm pretty much done with the time-intensive part of it. They're adults now and I get to watch them as they fly and build amazing lives of their own. And, although working with over 20,000 people in those years with Challenge Day was miraculous beyond my ability to put into words, I've had this aching in my heart to now do the thing that will fulfill the second half of my life. What is it that is going to be my contribution? What can I leave as a legacy that's my own?

I've come to realize, deeply, that the rest of this life's journey is about selfless service. It's about giving up what I think is best or right for me and saying "Yes" to the "next right thing." That's how I came to Challenge Day and that's how I've come to live in Southern California, co-producing this amazing event called Leaders Causing Leaders. That's how I've come to work in partnership with Café Gratitude. I said "yes" and chose to be relentless in my vision of service.

The thing is, when you make declarations like this to the Universe, it says "Yes," too!

And, boy, am I learning what I've gotten myself into….

The long and short of it is that Monday– Labor Day – I got a good dose of "labor." Labor Day this year was, for me, about the sometimes painful yet expansive birthing into my role as a Leader. I have to say before I go any further, I've been missing my home in the Sierras very much lately, so I made plans to go there for a week to enjoy the fall colors. I've also been planning to do something special just for me on my upcoming birthday.

But, as Labor Day got into full swing, I received two requests to change my plans – to not go to the mountains and to work on my birthday. Normally, I'd just have said, "Sure, okay!" and denied or stuffed my feelings about it. Normally I don't really even care about my birthday and would be fine with postponing my travel plans. But Monday, it felt like too much. Then, to top it all off, I agreed to have a very difficult conversation with someone, to stretch and honor what was needed to begin to clear the space between us.

For some reason, it all came to a head that morning and I could no longer hold in the flood of grief I was feeling at the prospect of not going home and of not celebrating my birthday the way I had intended. I knew they were reasonable requests, but in that moment, like the rocks and cement tumbling forth from an over-full and poorly built dam, I burst into tears in front of the very person for whom I've been trying to be a rock and a supporter – their "go to" girl. Although I tried, I simply couldn't hold them back any longer.

I felt as if someone had pulled the rug out from under me. Did anyone have any idea how hard I've been working? How much I've been giving, giving, giving? Do I not deserve to have a bit of a break here or am I just supposed to go, go, go and let myself be used up in service to this thing I've helped to create?

Then I remembered… I signed up for this.

This was exactly what I meant when I declared I was choosing to "surrender my ego and my personal wants and comforts in service to the greater good." ARGH! What had I done?!?

It was as if my commitment to serve and my longing to care for myself had banged into each other like two cars in a head-on collision. So, after having my tears, explaining there was nothing wrong – just a lot of overwhelm and exhaustion I've been holding in for weeks, I declared that I would do whatever was needed to serve the greater good, including not going home next week. This is the line in the sand I had drawn earlier this summer, the commitment I had made – the thumb-pricking, blood-brother vow I had sworn with Spirit.

Having sat with it for a couple days now, I've actually worked it out to go home for a few days, and decided that leading a workshop on my birthday would be a perfect way to celebrate. Surrendering my will to Spirit doesn't have to look like martyrdom. I get to negotiate and make requests, too. And, then, with all the options laid before me, I get to make a conscious choice that serves the greater good… which, by the way, includes me.

Happy Labor Day!

Wendy at Seventy… August 21st, 2010

2010-08-22T06:36:00.000-07:00

Today my mom, Wendy Lou Alford, would have been 70 years old, had she made it past 60. And she would have had a rip-roaring party, I tell ya… especially since it's on a Saturday!

However, nine years ago, her life was cut short from a disease which, although she was able to stave it off for years with good self care, Chinese herbs and a lot of support from her family and community, finally got the better of her formerly strong body - hepatitis C. But it's not her death, nor even her living about which I'm thinking this morning, as I sit here watching the sky lighten from dark to day. It's about her essence and her gifts; it's about what she brought – and still brings to me, and I would venture to say, and all those who knew and loved her. It is a testimony to her spirit that, for the last nine years, I still receive calls and emails on her birthday, and every time I've sent out an email or posted a note, I've received numerous responses saying that others were thinking of her on this occasion, too. It's that – her indomitable spirit, her undying gift for leaving a lasting impression - which is on my heart this morning.

Since she passed, my life has changed in more ways than I could have possibly imagined. Although I knew my kids would grow and leave to create wonderful lives of their own, I had no idea that they would both become world travelers, nor that they would come to be the unwavering pillars of love, strength and support they have been in the years since her death. I have stepped into living as a single woman in her 40's, feeling stronger and more confident than ever before, in many ways following in my mother's footsteps. I have moved away from the home I thought I would inhabit for the rest of my life, carving out a new path and creating a new community in a place I could never have imagined hanging my hat – Los Angeles. And, although I have relocated, it seems ironic yet so fitting that, of all the places I could have landed, I landed in Topanga Canyon – a place much like our home in the Sierras.

Nothing, really, has remained as it was when my mom was alive. And it is this about which I am thinking this morning… the way in which her living – and her dying – always inspired me and so many who knew her to stretch beyond our comfort zones and go for our best lives, even when – especially when – it meant going out on the "skinny branches" into unknown territory.

I've written many pieces about her and who she was, about her being larger-than-life, her unwavering courage during her battle with Hep C, her phenomenal ability to make friends in an instant with anyone she met, her deep love of the natural world, and her incredible ability and all of these things were who she was. The thing is, she still inspires me on an almost daily basis.

Honestly, I feel at a bit of a loss for words, but the essence of what I am trying to say is that, in her courageous living and dying and beyond, she has carried a torch of sorts for me. She has walked ahead on this path called life, pointed out the roots and rocks upon which I might stumble - or not and let me stumble and learn. She's held my hand in the particularly dark and scary parts where I might have been too afraid to venture without her by my side. She's stopped me short in my tracks – countless times – to stand in awe and amazement at the beauty of the scenery before me, the sounds of the wind in the trees, the scent of fresh rain, the wonder of being alive.

It seems so ironic that, for a woman who was so vocal about how beautiful and precious and wondrous the world is, I am more moved by her guidance to recognize it now than ever before. She walks with me in the mornings on the misty mountain trails, dances with me on the beach, smiles through me at each stranger on the street, and most importantly gets me up on many a morning when I'd rather stay cozy in bed to write, to correspond, to plan and execute this big life I've chosen to live.

It is she – and the vision of my children's hopeful yet uncertain future – who reminds me that if I want to be of service to humanity and the world, it takes me getting up and staying up, getting uncomfortable and pushing on to do it. No one is going to do it for me. Her favorite quote, from Anais Nin, sums up her life and legacy, "…and then the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud became greater than the risk it took to blossom." In everything she was and did during her brief visit here, in her determined month-long fight to live long enough to receive a liver transplant, and in her guidance from beyond, she shouts from the top of her lungs, "Be the one you are waiting for!"

In this moment, then, I ask you, on behalf of a woman whose large life, and even larger spirit continues to inspire her daughter, her grandchildren and countless others, what will it take for you to risk blossoming? In the words of Mary Oliver, "What will you do with this one wild and precious life?"

I ask you because the world needs you now and Wendy is out there, somewhere, cheering you on, holding you accountable and lifting you up to Be the Change you wish to see in the world.

Ah procrastination...

2010-05-26T07:33:00.000-07:00

I have been procrastinating about this blog for months… again. It's my very large streak of perfectionism… the old "all my ducks must be lined up before I take action" story. Don't get me wrong – I'm fairly spontaneous when it comes to doing fun things with my friends and family. But when it comes to what I'm "putting out there" in the world, it's more often than not got to be perfect. Hence, my book continues to live in the "to be published" phase. Do you recognize this in yourself?

The truth is there are always things to write about, comment on, argue for or against, take a strong stand for, figure out, offer, share. Always. As a matter of fact, I could safely say there are more things to write about, comment on and share than one person could ever handle, but I sure as hell do my best. I continue to save emails, notes and ideas, stashing them away to send out when I do my newsletter (which is still waiting in the wings for the right time). And they continue to pile up.

I realize, in holding this Vision I've been holding for nearly four years now, I feel I have lost some of my momentum – or at least misplaced it temporarily – and that has me scared. The clock is ticking more loudly than ever. I'm almost 50 years old and I need to get off my ass and live out what I'm here to do!

This panic often drives me to work until I fall asleep at the keyboard, often startled awake at 11 or 12 to a bunch of ffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff's on the page. I often wish I didn't need to sleep (or like it) as much as I do. I sometimes wish I didn't need to eat or take care of this body as much as I do. It simply feels like there is not enough time in one day, week, month, year or lifetime to do all the things I want to do, and that I'm steadily losing ground on what I want to create. I wake up at night wondering, "Is my book already written by someone else? Has the title been taken and I just don't know it?" I can't help but feel slightly guilty and embarrassed that it's taken this long to get it closer to being published.

Then I remember what I tell my clients – starting new from this moment is all we can do. Regret will get us absolutely nowhere. I am teaching, once again, what I most need to learn myself… that forgiveness, self-love and discipline… this fine balance of qualities are what makes for a life of contribution and meaning. A life of mattering.

There is really no point to this little bit of verbal purging other than my attempt to at least get something out of my head and into the world. I will save my soapbox for the next posting. Suffice to say, I am – once again – renewing my commitment to share, to get "out there in the world" what lives in my head and heart, the issues and causes that make me flail my arms in the air in absolute frustration, cry with deep compassion or laugh with sheer delight. Woohooo!

Juice Cleansing and The Gift of Patience

2010-04-04T20:02:00.000-07:00

This is not my usual lengthy article-like blog. It's actually more of what I hope to be posting in future- an update, an insight here or there, a way to communicate and share and be "radically transparent" as my new friend Tricia's button said (which I loved!). I hope you enjoy it, find it useful or helpful; if it is, I'd love to hear from you. If not, delete the invitation to read it, roll your eyes as you muse on how much time and energy you wasted, or print it out and make origami cranes out of it. Regardless, know that I'm honored you got this far! So, without further ado, Day FOUR of The Cleanse.

I am on my 4th day of a Juice Cleanse with Cafe Gratitude's co-founder/owner, Terces Engelhart, and am really grateful to be doing it along with a worldwide group of folks who have signed on for this monthly quest for health, insight and a deeper experience of wholeness. Knowing that so many others are on this week-long journey with me makes it 10 times easier to keep going and not give in to the temptations of delicious things in the freezer and all the goodies at the Farmers Market!

One of the themes is forgiveness, so I thought I'd share a bit about what I forgive myself for over the last four days. I forgive myself for the vegan Thai curry soup I had on Day 1 (with chunky bites of veggies in it), the few bites of coconut I had on Day 2 and 3, for making a cuisinart "frappe'd" slightly cooked soup for dinner tonight, and for not drinking enough water today. I forgive myself for being tempted to stop today because it felt "too hard" and I really, really wanted one of those amazing waffles (or at least a raw taco) from the stand at the Farmers Market.

Mostly, though, I'm freaking proud of myself for hanging in through this "hump day" on Easter, this day of Resurrection, renewal and rebirth. I'm grateful that I'm listening to my body when it says to rest and walk gently, to go to the beach and hang out, to not overdo and go to bed early, and to be quiet. I love the gift of re-acquainting myself with my own voice yet again. So divine.

In honor of my gratitude for this experience, here's a poem I wrote yesterday morning.

Day 3….

Cleanse
yourself
for a week or a day

give up
your daily unconscious
habits

release that
which no longer
serves
and notice the
space

you want to fill

but don't.

Instead, wait
wait for it to feel
empty

even if it takes a month
or a year.

Let it be filled
from your deep
innate desire
to serve.
What will it be?

That
Is not important.

What is,
is that you
let the space

be there

without filling it
with your old
habits
and choices

let a new light
from deep in the earth
from the
vastness of the sky
fill you

with inspiration
as you wait
patiently
for your assignment.

I wish you patience in waiting for your assignment, and once you get it, I wish you the most fiery, passionate execution of it! Happy Easter everyone!
Blessings....

Jerry Rice's Incredible Gift

2010-03-18T16:49:00.000-07:00

My mom was a major 49er’s Fan with a capital “F,” and her favorite player - by far - was Jerry Rice. He was a god in her eyes! She watched every game wearing her #80 football jersey, waving her 49er’s flag and football wand, whooping and hollering every time Jerry would make a catch or a touchdown. It was more fun to watch her than to watch the game most times.

I think, however, that the reason she loved Jerry Rice so much was not because of his incredible athletic skills- his speed, finesse, grace or Spiderman-like ability to catch and hold on to a ball. The reason she loved him so much was because of his heart. She could see that he put his entire heart and soul not only into the game but also into living. It was like he lived to make others feel better about themselves, no matter if they were on the field or not.

It was this generous, loving spirit I was given the gift of witnessing first hand almost exactly nine years ago in March of 2001.

It turns out that, all those years my mom was cheering and shouting for her '9ers, a ravaging disease known as Hepatitis C was slowly turning her liver into cement. It had lain dormant in her body for over thirty years. But in 1994, the year Jerry made 149 yards and three touchdowns to win the Superbowl, she was put on the waiting list for a liver transplant due to the ferocity of its progress. She managed to keep herself healthy with a rigorous regimen of Chinese herbs, diet and regular visits to the clinic at Stanford. However, in January, 2001, she took a bad fall which precipitated a rapid decline. We ended up rushing her to our local hospital on Valentine's Day with an acute case of pancreatitis.

Mom was very sick - she had been fighting this battle for over seven years, but with the opening the pancreatitis provided, the disease decided to make its final assault. If we didn’t find a donor liver for her immediately, she wasn’t going to make it. She was transferred Valentine's night to Stanford Medical Center where she received the finest of care and spent her last month alive.

I moved into the hospital with her, setting up a cot and watching over her night and day. We took the kids out of school so they could be close by, and she had more visitors than she knew what to do with. Family, friends, doctors, nurses – if they didn't know her before, everyone who came into her room fell in love with her by the time they left. As her stay went from days to weeks, and her health and energy deteriorated, everyone on her "team" began to feel that she needed as many boosts as possible in order to maintain her hope in the possibility that a liver would turn up in time.

She wasn’t getting any closer to her life-saving transplant, though; as a matter of fact, it seemed like it was slipping through out fingers. There is a window of optimization with transplants; you need to be sick enough to be eligible and healthy enough to withstand the grueling day-long surgery. We really needed a miracle- something to boost her spirits and our hopes. That’s when someone had the brilliant idea of seeing if we could have Jerry Rice surprise her with a visit, or even a phone call. That would give her something to talk about!

So, as she slept with her #80 football jersey for a pillow case, and her little football wand laying on her nightstand, we schemed. Jerry was right there conspiring with us, in a manner of speaking. In her quiet room we had come to call home, covered wall-to-wall with cards, posters, photos and banners from the worldwide multitude of friends and family who were rooting for her, we brainstormed about who we knew and who we knew who knew someone.

Then, after about a week, it seemed our miracle might be on its way. It just so happened that some of the nurses who were working with mom knew of another nurse – Krishna - who was a nanny for Jerry Rice when she wasn’t caring for people at the hospital. The nurses arranged a meeting with her, and she was truly one of the sweetest people I have ever met. No wonder she was the nanny for such a great guy! Krishna came to mom’s hospital room and talked with us about India - her home country - and mom’s worsening condition with such love and presence, we knew she would be able to help us. She told us she would convey mom’s story to Mr. Rice, and see if she could arrange something.

What seemed like an eternity went by without a word; in reality is was only a few days. But when you're waiting for the break that will save someone's life, every second seems like a week. By now, mom had slipped into a semi-comatose state, just breathing and resting her tired body. She hadn’t responded to us verbally for several days, and seemed to be slipping away.

On March 11th, however, our miracle came through. The phone, which was in pretty constant use with all the well-wishes and prayers, rang. I picked it up. It was Jerry Rice. I couldn’t believe it! “Oh my God!” I whispered to everyone in the room, covering the receiver with my hand. “It’s Jerry Rice!!!”

He listened very graciously as I explained the situation... mom would most likely not respond to him, but he could know that somewhere, somehow she was hearing him and what an incredible, wonderful surprise and lift that would give her spirit. Before I put the phone to mom’s ear, I said, “Mom, there’s someone very special on the phone for you.... It’s Jerry Rice!” She stirred, turned her head, and mumbled something. It was the first time she had responded that much in four days. “Go ahead, Mr. Rice.” As I held the receiver to her ear, I could hear him saying, “Hi Wendy. It’s Jerry Rice.” She turned and stretched her neck, as if trying to wake up. “Now, Wendy, I want you to be strong. You hang in there, Wendy!”

Then the real miracle occurred, when somehow, from deep inside of her, she managed to mumble weakly, “Okay.” Then he said, “Okay, Wendy. You take care now,” and I got back on the phone with him. “Thank you so much, Mr. Rice. You have no idea what a gift you have given her. Thank you.” “You take care now, and take care of your mom. Be strong,” he replied. And I really felt like he meant it. I hung up, and looked over at mom. “Hey, mom. That was Jerry Rice!” A weak smile flickered across her face. She had heard.

We were all shedding tears of joy and deep gratitude for this man who had taken time out of his busy life to call a woman who he didn’t know at all, but who deeply admired him. I will never forget his generosity, nor the generosity of Krishna, the nurse who so willingly went out of her way to help a very loved woman and her family and friends in our time of trouble.

Unfortunately, the gift of that donor liver never came in time... my mom slipped away at one in the morning on the 15th - the Ides - of March, 2001. But she did receive a the most precious gift- the gift of love- from a man she had idolized for years.

Thank you, Jerry, for one of the greatest presents my mom could ever have received. Thank you, and bless you for being such a wonderful example of what it is to be a true human being.

Poetry...

2009-12-15T19:01:00.000-08:00

I was just writing an email to someone and realized that I really want to post some of these poems that have been oozing out of me for the last couple weeks. So, here they are.

One of them actually has something to do with today's earlier blog- it's called "Remember." The others are commentary on my personal process as I've let go, more and more, of my pride and protection around my current state of affairs. There is such beauty in surrender....

I hope you enjoy- my gift to you.
Love and blessings,
Erin

Remember

Dear Mr. President,
I can only imagine
How difficult
It must be to be
In your position

Pressure from the right

Pressure from the left

Constant
Criticism
Need
Questioning
Doubt
Expectation

I can only imagine

And I want to say
Only one word.

Remember.
Remember.
Remember.

More important

Something has shifted
in realizing – no remembering –
I am a poet.
I have not turned on the computer or compulsively
checked email for
two days now.

I had forgotten
somewhere along the way that

showing up
is more important
than self-promotion,

that desperation
is so very unattractive.

Relishing the silence

Curled up in the cozy chair
next to the fire,
I listened.

Nothing but
the dripping of melting snow,
and the small whoosh and crack
of the fire and wood.

The sun
squeezed through the fog
with long fingers,
pushing its way through,
cracking the door
to a blue sky.

The mist,
thick as soup
moments before,
made its last
attempt
at hanging
between the trees,
mingling with the smoke
of my fire,
hoping to go unnoticed
and stay just
a
little
longer.

And I, under my blanket,
warm and content,
sat
relishing the silence
I couldn't bear to break.

A Letter to President Obama

2009-12-15T13:27:00.000-08:00

Well, this isn't exactly what I was expecting to post today, but it felt like what needed to be done. It's pretty self-explanatory, and I know it may piss a few folks off, but I'm willing to live with that. Everyone deserves health care, regardless....

Dear President Obama:

I am writing you to let you know that I am extremely disappointed in how the health care fight is going.

I campaigned for you and was elated when you were elected. You were the very first President I have ever voted for because I wanted to vote for you, rather than voting for the lesser of two evils. However, I'm also a realist and understand that, no matter how much you may have wanted to move this country forward towards real, lasting, positive change, it takes time. You have said so yourself... and you are right.

However, it doesn't mean that you can't continue to take a strong stand for the millions of people who are being gouged every day by private insurance companies and their greedy, manipulative tactics. I know that you have incredible pressure coming at you from the right, but I cannot stress enough that it is imperative that you stand up to Joe Lieberman and fight for real health care reform, including a Medicare buy-in and a strong public option.

I continue to believe in you, Mr. President, and I pray for you every day- that you find the strength to stand by your values and convictions, that you remember why we voted for you, and that you remember the legacy you are leaving your two beautiful daughters, my children and children everywhere.You have the power and opportunity to do so much good.

Thank you for having the courage to even take on this monumental task in the first place, particularly given the huge mess you were left with. And remember, that we, the millions who voted for you, are here for you, to stand by the words you spoke so eloquently during your campaign, and to work by your side to make sure we give every American a fair, fighting chance for a healthy life.

Thank you for your time (whoever is reading this...) and for inviting real dialogue. Please, please, please... make it count.

Some thoughts since Thanksgiving...

2009-12-01T05:42:00.000-08:00

I've thought a lot about whether or not to post this blog the last couple of days. Is it too depressing? Will it come back to bite me in the butt somewhere down the road? Will it turn people off from wanting to work with me or buy my book? And what I keep coming to is a clear and steady, "No." What I actually hear is a clear and steady, "Share this. Share yourself with the world, clearly and with love, and you will be amazed."

As I wander through the world, everywhere from my home in the Sierras to Boston to various communities on the internet to my soon-to-be-new home in L.A., what strikes me is a longing for authenticity and realness. I feel and hear a yearning for connection that's about much more than making ourselves or others feel good in order to get something or add one more name to our email lists. In the last week or so, I've "unsubscribed" to a lot of things just to get back to the quiet inside and to be able to really hear the cries for connection under all the chatter....

So, I choose to share in this way, revealing my pain and struggles as well as the insights and beauty in this moment, in the hopes that someone may be moved, inspired or feel they're not as alone as they thought they were. I share this to remind you that you are loved, that you are important, that you matter and that you are needed... no matter how down, low or useless you feel right now, this is temporary. I know... and you are not alone.

Thanksgiving Day, 11/26/09
It's early morning on Thanksgiving Day, and I am sitting here with a myriad of emotions and thoughts. Honestly, it's been a tough year- for so many, myself included. It's hard to cultivate my gratitude sometimes when I'm constantly worried about how I'm going to get myself out of the financial hole I'm in.

If you really knew me, you'd know that...
* although this year has been a year of great experiences and wonderful shifts, it's also been one of the hardest years of my life (like the year my mom died, the years of the divorces).
* although I'm so grateful for everything I do have (a home, food to eat, running water, electricity), I feel a nearly constant fear of not being able to take care of myself.
* I am so grateful for all the help I've received from my close family and several friends, and just under the surface I feel a constancy of guilt and shame about how far down I've gone and that I've become a burden to those around me.
* most of the time, I live with this low-grade panic or anxiety about life- like I'm just one step away from total self-destruction.
* sometimes, especially lately, I think, "My God, I've become the crazy mother I hear other people talking about- crying, mood swings- happy one minute, in a puddle of tears the next." Who have I become?
* I really wonder if I'm really depressed or manic… this does not feel normal. Is it just mid-life hormones?
* although I often talk and write about the importance of gratitude and feeling good about ourselves, it's really hard to feel good about myself when I work so hard to get things going and just the smallest trickle of response comes in.
* most of the time, the shame I feel about where I'm at in my life makes me want to be alone and hide from the world but the thing I long for the most is connection and to be held.
* whatever love is being offered feels far away, like I've created some kind of energetic quarantine sign that says, "Don't come close! What I've got is infectious and you wouldn't want to catch it."
* almost more than anything, I want to be held… to feel someone's arms around me, and hear them say, "It's all going to be all right."
* the tears feel like they'll never stop- this well of grief and shame and sadness feels bottomless.
* I feel so out-to-sea right now, rudderless... with a small, slow leak in my tiny little boat.
* I believe that, even though this is truly one of the few most painful and difficult times of my life, I know that I'm being led somewhere… if I can just hang in there a little longer....
* I'm tired of hanging in there….
* Thanksgiving is usually my favorite holiday, but this year I just want to crawl in bed and pull the covers over my head.

11/27/09
4:30am… Can't sleep. Woke up 30 minutes ago and tried to go back to sleep, but no good. So, I decided to get up, make a cup of tea, crawl onto the couch with the blanket and write and meditate. Thinking about all the bills and how I'm going to deal with them, the prospects of looking for a job in L.A., looking for a place to stay, and hoping I'm not setting myself up for even more failure by going down there. I don't trust myself right now. It seems like listening to myself has gotten me dug into this hole, but listening to others hasn't exactly dug me out either. Waking up with fear and anxiety every day has got to be taking a toll on my health. No wonder folks who inquire about my coaching don't hire me- if I saw my blogs and facebook posts, I don't think I'd hire me either. Seems like very little makes sense anymore, except that I keep hearing Spirit saying, "Finish the book. Focus on the book. Let go of everything else."

5:12am... Woke up about an hour ago in another panic. Can't seem to focus on what I can do- just overwhelmed by fear and shame. Feeling numb, hoping and praying that, somehow, in sharing this, I will find my way.

Listening to one of my favorite songs- "Wash Your Spirit Clean" over and over again. What will wash my spirit clean? What do I need to let go of?
* the high hopes that I would have at least 20 folks sign up for my teleclass.
* being able to pay my bills.
* dreams of the life I've created in my mind and visions- of traveling, of sharing my life with someone I love.
* hopes that my life will ever be different than it is right now. I mean, what if my life never changed from what it is right now? What if I continued to live with this amount of debt, scarcity, fear, doubt, anxiety and pressure?
* pride (BIG TIME) – about anything I'm too afraid to share, about looking good to everyone "out there" while I'm continuing to suffer "in here," about being an "expert" and wanting to hold up the façade of being someone who actually knows what she's doing when, in truth, I'm just stumbling around hoping I get this life right for the most part.
* shame (in deep, thick layers) by telling the truth of where I am right now....
* the deep pain and fear, anxiety and worry… if I let it all go, where would I be? Who would I be? What would I do?

I'm going to go to sleep for a bit and see if my dreams bring any relief or answers….

8:00am…
Just woke up again. Had some dreams, but can't remember them. But I just realized that this depression I'm in is an opportunity to get back to what's really true and simple- back to the things that are most important, the basics. Like taking care of my body, eating well, brushing and flossing, doing yoga, etc. Something is being asked to be sloughed off… there is wisdom - great wisdom - in letting go of as many externals as I can and in learning discernment. I must re-member who I am, discern what serves me when, and make conscious choices about how I want to present myself.

My question for the day…
What do I need to do today to move my Vision forward and live from my purpose?
Shed all you know. Shed all expectations you have of yourself and that you think others have of you. Surround yourself with comfort right now, find what you need to take care of yourself and make that happen. Find what you can to enjoy this time here with your kids. Things didn't work out the way you'd expected them to, but remember they don't usually. Stay focused on the book; it's hard to do that when you are so worried about money, but the more focus you put on the book, the more you're going to find flowing in. Listen to your heart… follow your dream and passion.

Stay connected with your guides; they will guide you beautifully. Feed your internal flame. Do things that feed your flame - do things that will bring more joy into your life. Take walks, play games, listen to music, dance.

You are not in this book game to make money, you're in it to bring your message to the world. You are not going to go the route of fast-paced, sales-y, go-go-go marketing. You are going to go the way of beauty, truth, transparency, art, love and openheartedness. Your path is very different from many of those around you. Follow your path, even though it seems scary, lonely and different. You are blazing a trail- you are a pioneer as Tanner said….

Give more, hope less, BE GRATEFUL always. Be gentle with yourself today… be gentle.

11/28/09
Got a email from my friend from Rob, kicking my butt, in response to a note I sent out. He quoted my statement, "it's my passion and the Mission of this book to inspire people (myself incuded) to remember who they are and get that they matter," and then wrote:
OK, so here's your assignment: tell me who you are... and why you matter!

I love it when my friends kick my butt. Thank you, Rob!

I decided to meditate on it, and this is what I got:
I am giving birth- squatting, screaming, my guides are holding my arms- holding me up and yelling, "Push! Push!" There's a bed of leaves covered with a blanket under me. The baby has arrived and I am crying and laughing. One of my guides comes around behind me and is holding me, cradling me in his arms, brushing my hair from my face. We are looking at this beautiful baby that one of my other guides has wrapped in a blaket and she's now in my arms. She is so beautiful. She is so beautiful. She has luminous eyes – dark but luminous. It is so peaceful here, so peaceful. Just sitting here, warm and complete in this family- in the beauty of this family knowing tht this child is being born into a family that loves her so much. "What is her name?" they ask; I respond, "Erin. She is the light of the world, she is the perfect reflection of everyone here, of all beings, she helps them remember who they are, she is truth and beauty and fragility and the deepest pillar of strength. She lives to serve. She lives to remind others of their perfection and beauty and fragility and strength. She is a writer, a songmistress, a singer of humanity's trials and journeys and triumphs, she is here to LOVE. She gets to be born into this family of love, to be supported in her every step, to be allowed to make mistakes and to fall, to learn how to get back up on her own again and to run and run with others. She is here simply to Love. She is our Reminder of Love. Her path is not necessarily easy, but her path is necessary and hers to walk."

She, the baby, is speaking now. "I am here to help you remember to trust that you are taken care of. I am here to remind you that all things that happen are not your fault- how could an innocent child ever be to blame for what happens to those around her? You are sensitive – that is both a blessing and a curse. You are not to blame for anything that happened to you as a child, you are not to blame for your mother's unhappiness nor for your children's challenges. You have contributed your part, sure, but you are not to blame wholly and entirely."

The guide who wrapped the baby in a blanket says:
You are birthing the child that's being born of your internal feminine and masculine. It must come from your pain, your pushing, your letting go and releasing that this child is born. Your internal masculine and you are the parents of this child, this woman to be, this new you, this Erin who is being asked to give life to her new self. Olnly thorugh your pain and suffering could she have been born at all… you could not be coming to this new place of beingness, this new plateau, without the pain of birth. You are not so much standing on the brink of a precipice as you are on the brink of a new life.

In order to step fully into it, you must shed your old life. You must release all ways of being that you've come to expect of yourself and that you've trained others to expect of you. You are shedding shame, fear and any expectations that you are any way- in your behavior or being. You are shedding expectations of being bubbly and joyful, of being morose and serious, you are shedding all expectations that you or others have of you and stepping into the "nowness" of being.

What are you releasing? You are releasing...
* Old stories.
* The deep shame and guilt you have lived with from before you were born.
* Your behaviours around your children, the ways in which you interact with them- you must release all expectations of your daughter, all fears for her and release her to the winds of life, even if you are scared for her. You no longer need to protect her from the winds that blow; she needs to do that for herself. You can be her refuge when she asks for it, but you no longer need to offer it.
* You are releasing going to your children for affection, relying on them for physical love and connection. You must find that in other places; when they reach out to you, you can equally share in the connection, but you must not rely on them to supply you with the love you ache for.
* You must step into this discipline- the discernment and discipline- it is absolutely necessary for you to move into this in order to move into the greatness that is being asked of you.
* You are releasing the so-called freedom of having a lot of time for yourself. You are calling in the discipline of short amounts of time for yourself in order to work at jobs that feed your pocketbook and soul.
* You are stepping away form massive amounts of time alone, building a community in a new place, and finding the moments of time for yourself in the early mornings and late nights to write, to work and to move forward.
* You are surrendering to a much greater vision of yourself, and you must let die the old self in order to do so. If you do not let the old you die, you will continue to live with this ache and longing for "something more." Let it all go.

When I say to my guide, "I feel like I'm moving through emotions, states and thoughts at lightning speed, as if I'm moving through years of work in a day sometimes- flip-flopping from one emotion to the next," she responds, "This is because you are healing and shifting at a very fast pace, moving into the next phase of your life. Let it take you at its pace and you will be amazed at how quickly things shift. Do not resist this; if you do, it will be long, slow and even more painful. Let it all go... and step into the brilliance and beauty of your new life...."

Hey, Rob- here's my homework.

Happy Thanksgiving... The Guesthouse

2009-11-26T04:36:00.000-08:00

This is the poem to which I referred in yesterday's blog. It is one of the most profound and beautiful poems I've ever read; I can't even remember where or when I heard it for the first time, but it was at least ten years ago. It floored me then, and it continues to move me to tears today.

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

-- Jelaluddin Rumi
(translation by Coleman Barks)

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.
Blessings to all,
Erin

Looking Inside and Being Thankful

2009-11-25T16:58:00.000-08:00

I haven't blogged for over two weeks... and realized that I've been making this big deal out of it. I've been pushing myself like I've been under assignment to write an article every week as opposed to a blog. It was good "discipline" but I've been paralyzed by the prospect of it for over two weeks amidst everything else going on (or not going on) in my life.

This morning, when I was writing an email to my dear friend Thomas, I realized that what I've really been desiring to do is to share my process - this crazy roller coaster of what it is to be listening to Spirit, discerning between that voice and the voice of fear and ego, and trusting in the journey along the way. So, rather than force myself into a box that doesn't work, I've decided to start blogging here about this process - on Thanksgiving Day. This holiday seems like the perfect beginning to a daily (or almost daily) "check in" and sharing, a revealing of the ups and downs of getting that I matter and how that shapes itself through these last few months of moving toward the publication of my book. If an article finds its way through me, taking shape in a way that wants to be shared here, then I will, of course, take due notice and follow its lead, giving thanks and being grateful for every single occurrence, person and feeling. I will be the innkeeper at the Guesthouse....

For now, today, I begin the process of countdown to publication... with the hopeful date of March 20th, 2010 - the Spring Equinox - for having the book out and available for sale. We'll see how this goes and without further ado, I give you... "If you really new me, this is how I get that I matter" Installment #1:

Looking within... been doing a lot of that the last few days, and a lot of crying and releasing. Feels important and good. This stuff is so old... almost like I'm carrying the weight/healing the wounds of past generations, too- especially my mom.... The last few months have been so challenging- feeling like "butter spread over so much bread" as Bilbo says in Lord of The Rings; stepping out of my comfort zone so far I can't even see it anymore, getting ready to move to L.A., experiencing financial crisis and the corresponding stress of it, feeling so alone despite the massive amount of love and support flowing in from friends and family around the world.

I've been "stuck" a lot, forgetting all that I've learned, asking "What am doing wrong?" a lot. But this morning, Thomas asked me, "What do you hear when you ask that question?" So I decided to take a moment to listen... and what I hear is, "Nothing. You are doing nothing wrong; you are just doing what you're doing. You may not be doing some things right, but you are right on track for the lessons that are being asked to be learned. You know that this is all part of what you need to develop the compassion and understanding of others about whom and for whom you are writing. You could not speak to them without knowing, deeply, their experience."

I've also been saying, half-joking, to anyone who will listen to my pity party, "I should just throw in the towel and get a job!" And, when he asked me to reflect on what I was saying, I heard, "Now you know better than that..." (which I do). But I also heard, "You do need to get a job- a regular, paycheck-type job in Los Angeles. You would do well to work in a restaurant or as a receptionist someplace where you have the opportunity to shine your light and bring your love and teachings to the public in a bigger way while you're developing your book and workshops. You need to, again, have the experience and compassion for the majority of the people you're writing for/to who have regular jobs and aren't self-employed. This is very important."

And, then this very wise friend Thomas asked me what other question I need to be asking myself. So I listened again and heard, "You need to be asking yourself three questions:
1. What do I need to do today to move my vision for ward and live from my purpose? (at the beginning of the day)
2. What am I grateful for? (throughout and at the end of the day)
3. What did I do today to move my vision forward? (at the end of the day)
These three questions are your guideposts for your days and weeks ahead, until at least the end of this year."

It felt really good to have three concrete questions to ask, and to receive some specific answers (which were pretty mundane things like getting my website updated, taking a walk, writing this blog (!) and cooking dinner with my kids) on which to follow through.

In the end, though, at the end of this day, what resonates more than anything is that I am grateful... so grateful... for friends like Thomas who hold my feet to the fire of my highest visions and essence... for my children who are immeasurably wise and compassionate adults (far more than I was at their ages)... for the folks who will be signing up for my Getting That You Matter Teleclass today, tomorrow and in the next few days... for the motivated, passionate and action-oriented folks who will be signing up for complimentary coaching sessions who I can't even imagine yet... for having a home to go home to... for having enough food to eat, warm blankets, hot tea and running water, sweet romantic movies to watch with my daughter... for a bed to sleep in and the restorative power of sleep, for gratitude itself and most of all for Love....

If you are interested in attending my upcoming 12-week Teleclass starting Dec. 1, Getting That You Matter, visit the Services page at ErinRossCoaching to register. If you register by midnight on November 26, you'll get a 20% discount on the total cost - only $120! Looking forward to hearing you next Tuesday!

The Promised Land, Part One… Walking toward a new future together

2009-11-02T07:17:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking about how much flack President Obama has been getting for either not doing enough or too much, for being too radical or not radical enough, in his first ten months of office, and I just want to say, "Give the guy a break!" I don't know about you, but, honestly, I sort of expected him to take us to the Promised Land - like some kind of Moses - when he was sworn in as the 44th President. I think some part of me was hoping that he would be able to magically fix everything that's been broken in this country, and on the planet, as soon as he was inaugurated.

Yes, he made bold campaign speeches, both serious and hopeful – the first mainstream candidate besides Dennis Kucinich to really address the critical situation in which we find ourselves as a country and a species. He spoke the truth when he said it would take all of us making sacrifices to create real, lasting change. He made the phrase, "Yes we can!" internationally recognizable. Honestly, he was the first candidate I've ever had the honor of voting for because I believed in supporting him. And… he's only one man. No matter how sincere, visionary, well spoken or down-to-earth he is, he is human… just like the rest of us.

I was simply so relieved and thrilled at having such an incredibly down-to-earth, well-spoken, visionary leader in the White House, I forgot that it was all of us (well, the majority of us) who put him there. I was so ready for a change, I forgot I had a responsibility to be part of it.

Because the truth is, no matter how much some may want to blame him and his administration for the various messes we're in right now – our national health care travesty, the real, horrible and deepening chasms in our own country between the "haves" and the "have nots," and the greatest challenge of our time, the global climate crisis - we can't blame anyone but ourselves. We are collectively responsible. All of these things started a very long time ago and we chose to ignore the signs and keep living as if everything was just fine.

Responsibility is sometimes a scary word because it means we don't have the luxury of pretending any more. When we take responsibility for our circumstances, personal and global, we have to wake up. We have to remember that everything we do has an impact. It also means that we are going to have to give up some of the things that we thought we wanted if we're going to make it to that Promised Land. When we begin the process of waking up, of becoming who we were meant to be, we must slough off the old, tight skin that kept us small and comfortable in order to grow into the bigger person we know we are. Letting go is both terrifying and exhilarating; it means, as Charles DuBois said, "giving up who we've known ourselves to be for the person we are becoming."

Yes, it will require some sacrifice; each one of us is going to have to take a long, hard look at how we live our lives, from the big stuff to the seemingly mundane. From how we buy our groceries and what we choose to do to our bodies, to how we use energy in our homes and how we travel. We no longer have the luxury of believing that any choice we make is "insignificant."

We must ask ourselves questions like, can I walk or ride my bike instead of driving today? Do I really need that toy, appliance, clothing or beauty item? Could I buy a different item that would use fewer resources and create less waste? Where does my food come from? Where were those clothes, toys, foods made? Who made them? Did they get paid fairly for their work? In other words, how could I make choices that have less impact on the planet while feeling more fulfilled, happy and connected to the world around me?

We are each part of a larger whole, we are not at the top of the pyramid. There is no pyramid. We are part of the web of life, a strand in the tapestry woven from the one thread that connects us all, no matter how different we may seem from each other, the trees, dirt, buildings, stars and animals. We must wake up to the fact that the world was not made solely for our benefit; it is not a department store in which we "shop 'til we drop" without thought for the consequences. We must wake up to the fact that we share this world with many other people and species for whom this world is also a precious, living source.

Because we are the one species who has caused the most damage to this precious planet, we must be the ones to take responsibility for it. Personally. We can no longer afford to ignore the fact that every decision we make has a great affect on everything around us. And because the U.S. is the most privileged nation on the planet (and the one with the greatest environmental impact), we have the greatest responsibility to do our part. With privilege comes great responsibility.

No one, not even the President, is going to rescue us from these things that cause pain or suffering, No one has a magic wand to wave over our lives or the planet to "make it all better." There are no band-aids big enough for the wounds we've created. The only solution is serious, concerted effort to do our part. As my friend Yvonne St. John-Dutra says, "We are the heroes we've been waiting for."

What if, like Mahatma Gandhi, we all realized that "we must be the change we want to see in the world?" Just like it took all of us walking to the polls in the election process last year, it's going to take all of us stepping out of our comfort zones and walking there to make it to this Promised Land. And we must walk together!

It's not necessarily going to be an easy road to walk. There are potholes, steep hills, sharp curves and blind corners. We may sometimes feel like we can't go any further, like it's just too hard. But we must remember, just like President Obama, we're not alone. There are people right next to us who can help us when we need it. There are people we can help when they need it. If we all work together to get there, remembering that everyone matters, that each of us is here for a reason, and that we have a responsibility to each other and our world, we'll make it to the Promised Land with a lot more grace and joy.

Free the Hikers… Taking Personal Responsibility and Disturbing Our Lives for Others

2009-10-26T10:23:00.000-07:00

I've been working on this blog for almost a month; it took me this long to synthesize what I was trying to say. Ah, the writing process… the fine balance between discipline and surrender.

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On September 30th I attended the two-month anniversary vigil at the UC Berkeley campus for Sarah Shourd, Shane Bauer and Josh Fattal, the three hikers who have been detained in Iran for almost twelve weeks. I wasn't quite sure exactly what to expect, but I went hopeful of raising awareness and willing to do whatever was needed - to "disturb my life" on their behalf for a few hours. I ended up handing out fliers about the hikers to as many passers by as I could; unexpectedly, it turned out to be an interesting social and emotional experience.

Initially, as I walked away from the supporters holding the large, cloth banners, clutching my supply of fliers, I felt some trepidation - almost a dread - at having to approach strangers, which is really funny for someone who regularly gives out Free Hugs at BART stations. As I scoped out the situation, I noticed many people walking in a multitude of directions - alone, engaged in conversation with others, many wearing headphones or talking on cell phones. Although I was somewhat apprehensive, mostly what I felt was determination - to hand out as many fliers as possible in the two hours ahead of me.

After about ten minutes, I noticed that most folks were more or less open to slowing down to hear about the hikers. I would approach them saying, "Have you heard about the hikers in Iran?" or "Help us free the hikers!" pointing to the banner on the steps of Sproul Hall, and they'd stop, often engaging in conversation or asking for a flier. Some, however, wouldn't make eye contact, would wave me off or say, "No, thanks" as if I was trying to sell them something.

It was my internal reactions to the folks who said, "No thanks," waved me off or made little or no eye contact that really sparked an inner conversation. At first I felt somewhat offended, angry and hurt, as if they didn't care about this very important issue. I mean, here I was willing to take a few hours out of my life and they were just blowing me off! I found myself judging them for being self-absorbed or indifferent. In other words, I took it very personally.

It surprised me that I was taking their responses (or lack thereof) so personally; normally, I'm a pretty tolerant person. But, as I looked more deeply into my own thought process, I remembered a beautiful ritual called "disturbing your life" I participated in several years ago when I was a counselor at a church camp. We did this ceremony on the top of a mountain where we sat in a huge circle with all of the campers and counselors, each turning to the person next to us, taking their hands in ours, looking right in their eyes and saying, "I will disturb my life for you." It was an extraordinarily powerful experience of love, commitment, and community. This expression of willingness to rearrange our lives for another, to do whatever it takes to make sure others are loved and cared for, has stayed with me ever since.

So, as I stood out there on the plaza, hoping to spark some interest in the fate of these three UC Berkeley graduates, meeting averted eyes and strange looks with a cheerful "Thank you!" I began to despair, to wonder why people weren't interested or why they just didn't seem to care. Why weren't they willing to disturb their lives, even for one minute?

Was it because they had more important things to do? It's true, many said, "I’m late for class!" Was it because they thought it was ridiculous to help three people who had obviously gotten themselves into this mess? One gentleman was very quick to point about that. Or was it just because they were so focused on their own lives, on what was right in front of them, that they simply didn't feel they could take a moment to consider the possibility that their actions could make any kind of difference for three hikers half a world away?

I was rolling all of these questions around in my mind, wondering why so many people weren't willing to "disturb their lives" for even one minute to take a flier, when I realized I was being exactly what I was judging them for- ignorant and self-absorbed. Oh, the beauty of being human… the beauty of having a mind.

Taking a mental step back, I remembered another beautiful practice I recently learned called "Ho'Oponopono." It's a radical practice of taking responsibility for everything in your life and everything around you… everything. The way I interpret it is that, on a very deep level, we are each of us responsible for everything that happens in the world because everything is interdependent. In other words, the only separation we experience is the illusion of it in our own minds. So, anything we experience that we don't like "out there" is ours to love and heal internally with this simple phrase, " I love you, please forgive me, I'm sorry, thank you."

If I bring both of these profound practices under one umbrella, they fit perfectly together. If I want to see a change in the world, "out there," I must be willing to disturb my life and take responsibility for it "in here." I must be willing, at any moment, to drop what I think I'm supposed to be doing and listen to the greater call, the Universal urge that tells me to give, without judgment, an extra dollar when I only have two; to stop and tell the clerk at the grocery store how grateful I am for them being committed to impeccable service. This doesn't mean I stop my life permanently, but it means that I stay open to the myriad possibilities of connecting with my fellow human beings.

This is no small feat; we all have busy lives, places to go, people to see. But I wonder, how would our world be different if we all lived from that place? How would it be to take radical responsibility for everything and be willing to disturb our own lives, even for a moment, on a daily basis for the greater good? What would be possible for our planet and all the beings who share it if we got that we mattered that much?

I'm also very clear that I have a long way to go myself. There are countless time when I could have taken an extra minute to make a positive difference in some one's life, could have kept my word, could have held my judgment at bay and "walked a mile in their moccasins." As I stood out on that plaza, hoping to reach into peoples' hearts and souls, hoping for a connection, a spark of recognition and compassion, I could have reminded myself of the thousands of times I'd said, "No thanks" or waved someone off instead of leaping right to the conclusion that they didn't care.

Perhaps they just didn't know. I mean, if it were their brother or daughter suffering the same fate as Sarah, Josh and Shane, I'm certain they would be out there doing the same thing. Yes, it's time to wake up but we have to wake ourselves, and each other, up with love and compassion, not with harsh judgment. There's a time for fierceness, but always it must be with love.

As I have had several weeks to ponder these questions, I am simply left with more, for myself and for anyone who takes time to read this far in this week's blog…. What would I need to do to shift from judgment and taking things so personally to responsibility and willingness? What would it take for me to let go and surrender to the nudges of the Universe? How could I give a little more, and in that giving, remember that I have received so much?

Disturbing my life? Taking 100% responsibility? Seems like a small price to pay for the gifts I've received on this journey called life.

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Postscript:

There is so much hope to feel, and I'm very clear that it has to start with me. That whole taking responsibility and "disturbing my life" for another being practice starts right here… and it starts with taking responsibility for the content of my thoughts. Let me explain.

Since early August I've been praying for Sarah, Josh and Shane, picturing them sitting in prison somewhere in Iran. I've been sending them love and support, but always with that picture in my mind. However, when I read about the 1:33 meditation mentioned below, I realized that I needed to take another step and move away from envisioning them as stuck in this situation. So I decided to change what I was picturing from seeing them in Iran to seeing them being released, getting on an airplane in Tehran, walking off the plane in New York, and into the open arms of their overjoyed families in blissful, relieved and tear-filled reunion. I have set a daily alarm on my cell phone for 1:33pm so I can take some small step to at least remember to send this new vision out into the collective consciousness to be made real.

Things to know:

If they aren't released this week, Halloween will mark the 92nd day of captivity for Sarah, Shane and Josh… over three months. That's an agonizingly long time for their families, and I hope you will consider joining one or more of the events below.

On November 8th, there will be "Vigils of Hope" held around the globe to send love and hope to Sarah, Josh and Shane and their families. Please visit http://freethehikers.org/ to learn more, if you want to light a candle, share a poem, play music, and basically send positive energy to Sarah, Shane and Josh in Tehran.

In addition a daily "Peace 1:33" meditation has started making its way around the world to support them. As it says on the website, http://freethehikers.org/, "it is easy to get caught up in daily responsibilities and let family and friends fall from the forefront of our mind. Shane, Sarah, and Josh were taken on July 31st, 2009 at 1:33 pm and are still being held in Iran. Keeping them on the forefront of our minds is one of the most important actions we can take. Action is created by thought. It is this universal truth that has inspired Peace 1:33. The purpose is to hold the vibration of peace and positive energy for Shane, Sarah, and Josh by focusing on and feeling peace for 1 minute or more each day at 1:33 PM. Set a daily alarm on your cell phone for 1:33 PM. Spend one minute thinking/meditation on peace in honor of Shane, Sarah, and Josh and continue with the daily commitment. If you have access to a bell, ring it three times in honor of each hiker."

Lastly, please spread the word. Send e-mails to your friends, join Free the Hikers on Facebook, and invite friends to do the same. Visit the website. Ask your church or school to participate by ringing their bell three times each day at 1:33 PM. The simplest act on our part can make a world of difference for them.

Topanga Canyon Part Two... Leaping from mountains to ocean and everywhere in between

2009-10-21T14:59:00.000-07:00

When I woke up the first morning here in Topanga Canyon, I was excited, energized and ready to take on this strange new world. However, after a day of absolute bliss, the disorientation set in... I felt like I'd plunked myself down in the middle of a foreign country (which, in a way, I have...) where I didn't know the language (which I kinda don't...). The truth is, though, I know it's the right place to be, regardless (which I do...).

But, jeez… I forgot about the whole "What the hell was I thinking?!?" part of taking huge freakin leaps of faith when I decided to actually listen to that Voice! Friday was a doozy, I tell ya. Self-esteem in the toilet, absolutely heart-wrenching loneliness, totally disoriented when I went "down the hill" to Santa Monica; everything in me wanted to go home… and I don't mean to Topanga Canyon.

Every day since, however, feels a little less strange and a little more real. This weekend was good and each day is brighter, feeling more hopeful, and in my search for connections for my book, Getting That You Matter, and work here in L.A., I'm meeting some really amazing human beings like Duncan, Julie-Ann, Aniko, Alessandra, Philip, E.B. and Marcy. I'm reconnecting with some great friends like David, Erin, Janette, Michelle, Laura, Michael and Maura. And I'm being showered with love, support and gifts, like tickets to events, lunches, tea and lots of hugs. Gotta love hugs! As a matter of fact, I think I'll go out and give some Free Hugs some time in the next few days. Heck, I've got the signs in the trunk of my car! Hmmmmm….

The thing is, I'm writing this book and, truth be told, it's taken me years to get that I mattered for who I am, for what I love to be and do in the world. The truth is, it's a journey that's taken a lifetime and a lot of struggle and effort to bring me to this place and time right here. Through two divorces, four network marketing companies and more personal growth workshops than I can count, among many other things, the thing that's been constant is how much I love people and love to see them connecting with their own inner passion and sharing that with each other.

It's funny, I've always thought of taking leaps of faith as being this sort of "on purpose" kind of thing, but from where I'm floating now, I can see that it wasn't "on purpose" at all. Actually, it felt more like I was standing on the cliff backwards, toes clinging to the ledge (like a diver doing a reverse flip, or whatever they call them), and the Universe, with its ever-so-loving nudge, gently pushed me off. Arms and legs akimbo, screaming "Waaaaaait!!!!" I didn't so much leap as lurch. But then this funny thing started to happen… teeny tiny wings sprouted out of nowhere, expanding quickly, and just as my nose was about to scrape the canyon floor, they took me on a sharp turn upward.

All in all, I have to say, this foreign country is starting to look more familiar – I'm remembering street names and short cuts, and learning to allow way more time than I think I need to get anywhere but just down the road. The language is getting easier to manage – I'm learning that cynicism is just part of the territory down here but when you scratch the surface, everyone still wants to be connected and loved. And, more than anything, this is the right place to be, regardless – there is so much going on here, more than I ever could have imagined….

So here I am pumping away, like some sort of moth in the night, hovering in the flame of passion and purpose that lives inside my heart, trusting that my little monkey mind that says "Who do you think you are?" will quiet down when I tell it to Please Be Quiet, and knowing that It's All Good.

Friday morning, Topanga Canyon... free-falling after the leap

2009-10-16T09:35:00.000-07:00

Last night was good but strange. I went to dinner with my host and two of his friends, a lovely couple taking a break from traveling the world to visit friends and family before heading out one more time. They were lovely people and I hope I get to know them better, but I felt very quiet and shy, and all I wanted to do was listen and observe. The introvert in me was in full bloom, and I felt strangely out of place, almost an intruder even though the three of them seemed quite happy to welcome me.

I felt awkward and almost dispassionate when Amy asked me why I'm in Los Angeles. I stammered out a crude explanation about the directive I received last fall to "go to L.A.," my desire to make connections and look for investors for the book project, and the fact that I was also looking for work that will sustain me in the meantime, but it all felt flat. What I really wanted to say was, "I have no freaking idea why I'm here!"

Why am I here anyway? Because a loud, booming voice from the sky told me to come here? Yes! Is it the same loud, booming voice I heard three years ago this month when I was told to write this book that's taking forever to complete? Yes!

So I listen and follow directions like the good girl that I am, and now I'm sitting in someone's (a very kind and generous someone, I might add) back patio, overlooking Topanga Canyon, watching the sun make its way over the crest of the mountain, feeling alone and scared, wondering why in the hell I'm here. "My GOD, what have I done?!?"

I guess the single simplest explanation is I've taken a leap - a giant, free-falling leap of faith. But doing it alone at 47 feels a lot different than doing it at in my 30's with a husband and a plan. It feels way scarier, even than taking a trip around the world with company, way more risky, and way lonelier.

Truth be told, if I were to give my Inner Critic full reign, it would say, "What the hell are you thinking?!? I mean really! You're up to your eyeballs in debt, have no idea how you're going to pay the bills due next week, and you're sitting here writing about it. You should be out there pounding the pavement. You should be looking for work right now. You should get up off your ass and do something! Instead you're sitting on your ass, sipping tea and writing about it." That's what my Inner Critic says.

And yet, when I say ever so kindly, "Thank you for sharing. Now please be quiet," when I take a deep breath and feel the depth of my loneliness as well as the rightness of where I am and the depth of conviction that this is the right place for me to be and I'm doing exactly what I need to do, I remember that listening to that big, booming voice (no, not the Inner Critic) has gotten me this far with great success. I've created a really amazing life for myself. Despite not yet having all the material things or financial freedom I desire, I have a beautiful home in the mountains I can go back to any time I wish, I have more amazing friends than I could have ever imagined, two incredible children who are creating amazing lives for themselves, and so much more. I remember that I've known for a year that I needed to come here, even if it meant feeling completely alone.

So, I take a deep breath and a good look around at the beauty of this scene, listen to the birds arguing, the cars driving by down below, hitch up my britches and exhale... I remember. I am right where I need to be and everything - everything - is okay. Even the rapid beating of my heart. Even the feeling like I'm either about to explode or pack up the car and head home as fast as possible like this was all just a big mistake. Even the feeling that this place is just too big, too cynical and too hard for an open-hearted, thin-skinned country girl like me and I have no idea how to maintain my open heart and greet everyone I meet from that place, like I seem to do so easily at home. Even that

I just have to breathe and be - in this moment, and this one, and this one. That's all I have to do to keep that monster in my head at bay.

After I do that for a bit, what's next? Post this blog, make some calls, get on craigslist and look for some jobs, then get in my car, head out of this protective canyon and into the big, wide valley of possibility. As my son wrote in the very sweet note he left on my passenger seat, "...give 'em hell. LA won't know what hit 'em.

Amen.

Questions about Willingness and Surrender... Learning to Fly

2009-10-07T14:55:00.000-07:00

Recently I watched The Visitor again and wondered what it is that is so compelling about this movie for me personally. I mean, obviously, it touched my heart in a very profound and powerful way- how could it not? The subject matter is entirely timely, every bit of acting is flawless, and a sweetness flows throughout the film which greatly appeals to my personal sensibilities. But that's not what I'm thinking about. What struck me this morning as I was meditating was that the main characters in this movie surrendered to God's (or Universal- whatever you want to call it) Will for them.

I think what really struck me about that movie was that the main characters, particular the older man and woman, knew that they could choose differently than they did; they were not so much the victims of their circumstances, but the momentum of their situations propelled them in the directions they eventually chose. I witnessed their struggles with desire, with their egos wanting things to be different; but in the end, they made the choices that were the best for themselves and the greater good, even though they had to make deep personal sacrifices. At the same time, the younger couple had to deal more with "the system," were unwitting victims of their circumstances; but they, too, made choices in how they responded to the situation at hand.

This movie has kept coming back to me again and again… and, as I've pondered it more and more, I've realized that every one of the four main characters in that movie, albeit sometimes struggling with it, was willing to surrender to God's Will for them. They had no choice- either because they were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time or because they knew that it was in their highest good to choose a particular course of action.

Earlier this year I graduated from a course in which "willingness" was a key concept, so I've been asking myself questions like: How or where am I willing to do what I need to do to move forward in my life? What stands in the way? How or where am I being stubborn? We were asked to notice these things at a profoundly deep level, to actively seek out the places where we bump up against our old stories and beliefs that keep us from living in a place of total willingness.

As I look more and more, I begin to see it everywhere in my life… and I have some further questions: What does it mean to be willing? What is the difference between stubbornness and having good boundaries? What is God's Will for me? How do I know I'm not just fooling myself and creating a really good rationalization that's coming from my ego to make myself believe it's "God's Will"? What's the difference between willingness and surrender?

These questions baffle me from time to time, and sometimes I feel extremely clear on the answers. Sometimes I feel like they're just out of reach, along with my willingness, and sometimes I feel like I have them in my back pocket and the world is laid out before me like a beautiful red carpet. All I need is the dress!

The thing is, we often have to make hard choices, to struggle internally with what we want versus what is in our highest and best interest, or more importantly, what will serve the greater good.

I guess that is what I struggle with most of the time- is what is in my best and highest interest also serving the greater good? OR do I have to sacrifice what's in my best and highest for the greater good? But if I'm doing that, am I not just really being a martyr, acting from my need for attention and approval? Is it possible for my own good and the greater good to coincide? Is it possible for the greater good to actually be my greatest good, even when it doesn't seem or feel like it? So many questions!

So, here I sit, thinking about this movie and the willingness these characters exhibited, while considering what is going to be in my very best and highest. In other words, what will pay the bills and what will move me forward in my vision for contributing to the planet as a whole? Can that be one and the same thing? It is not easy to balance all of this stuff… not easy at all!

Unless… (What a wonderful word), unless (the key word in Dr. Suess' The Lorax) we make a choice, a conscious choice for an easy, loving, non-dualistic outcome. Perhaps, then, it would not be difficult at all to "balance" all of this heady stuff. Unless… I'm just thinking way too much here and all I need to do is drop into my heart, listen to the small, still voice within and trust the answers I receive…. (It's kind of like "stop, drop and roll," but a little bit different- one is for a fire in a building, the other is for a fire in the spirit.) Maybe all I have to do, like the people in this movie, in order to really surrender, is let go of all the questions, take a deep breath, and go inside…

So I go inside and say, "Thank you for sharing," to the crowd of voices, take some nice deep breaths and listen. And do you know what I keep hearing, over and over? "Let it all go… all of it, every expectation, every thought of good or bad, right or wrong, what you need to or should do. Be willing to let it all go." It's like this great big neon sign on the inside of my forehead- it's absolutely un-ignorable, undeniable and ever-present. So, why do I persist in staying stuck in the mire of my ego, worry and struggle? Basically- fear. No, wait, abject terror. That's it, really. Terror.

The thing is, I've done this before. I've taken many leaps, and continue to take leaps, and every time I do, I'm always fine. So, what's up with this "stinkin' thinkin'" as they say? What about all of these questions? As I look back over them, I realize that there is a thread through all of them, through all the doubt, and that thread is this fear.

My ego wants to cling so desperately to what it knows. And rightfully so - its job is to help me survive; any good citizen would talk someone back from the edge of a cliff, right? It makes perfect sense my ego would be doing everything it can to keep me safe; it makes perfect sense to my ego. But, in the questioning and the doubting and the living out of my fear, what is actually dying is my spirit. I believe that, on some level, my ego, always the eager achiever, wants to win… at any cost, even the cost of that which keeps it alive.

In a way, our egos are like a cancer or a virus. Our egos believe that they are growing and getting stronger by feeding off of the host, the spirit; but, in fact, the stronger it gets, the weaker the host and, eventually, the ego can end up killing off the very thing which keeps it alive. That's when we die with regrets, with unfinished business, without harmony and peace. That's when we haven't said, in the words of John Mayer, "what you need to say." I know that it seems like we are these bodies walking around housing our spirits, but what if, instead, we looked at it like our spirits are actually the houses for our bodies and the body is simply the matter-result of the desire to learn and grow in human form? If that's true, then all of my worrying and stress are simply illusions and I could just be... right here, right now.

Ah, but there's the rub! We do live in the world, we are embodied of flesh and bone, and we have responsibilities. Is this just a privileged person's conversation? I mean, how do folks who live with the daily threat of deportation like the characters in The Visitor or who are dealing the lack of clean water in Sumatra handle these issues? Do they have the luxury of pondering these questions or are they so busy surviving that they are just putting one foot in front of the other trying to get by? And, maybe, just maybe that's all I need to do- all any of us needs to do- put one foot in front of the other and see what happens. What if I stopped thinking about it all so damned much and simply did what needs to be done? How would that be different? What kind of results would I get?

So, after all that, this circular little conversation comes back around to willingness... even more, to surrender. And, in the end, I think that what it's about is being willing to surrender. If we can do that, let go of standing at the edge of the cliff with our toes curled over the corner, arms stiff at our sides, maybe we won't fall. But maybe, if we take a deep breath, spread our toes, lift our arms from the center of our being, put one foot in front of the other and jump… we'll fly.

Free the Hikers... Love and Miracles in a Time of Uncertainty

2009-09-14T15:32:00.001-07:00

On Monday, August 31st I attended my first press conference. I wish I could say it was for something wonderful, some kind of celebration or monumental achievement, but it wasn't. It was a small gathering of friends and family who had come together to try to keep the media's attention on a grave situation happening half a world away. It marked the one-month anniversary of the arrest of Sarah Shourd, Shane Bauer and Josh Fattal, three American hikers, none of whom have been heard from since their July 31st arrest on the Iraq/Iran border. It was not a celebration.

Before I go any further, let me tell you what I know about Sarah. I met her a couple years ago when she was living in Berkeley; the moment I met her, I felt like I was in the presence of an angel. She has the most penetrating, kind and transcendent eyes, and love just oozes out of her. She is truly a remarkable woman... not because of anything she does, but because of who she is. It's funny, when I think about her, I think, "She's someone who really gets that she matters."

Sarah has plenty of accomplishments to warrant her mattering for what she does. She graduated from UC Berkeley and now lives in Damascus where she teaches English and is learning Arabic. She previously taught as part of the Iraqi Student Project, a program that gives Iraqi students living in Damascus the skills to continue their education in US schools. She has also written a multitude of articles on travel and social issues reflecting her time spent in Syria, Ethiopia, Yemen and Mexico. Sarah does a lot. From what I've read about Shane and Josh, and knowing Sarah, it seems that they are two remarkable human beings who do a lot, too.

But it goes so much farther than Sarah's "doingness." Her mattering emanates from her deep compassion for humanity, her strength of character, her commitment to all life and to the environments in which we live, her passion for adventure and her way of making everyone with whom she comes in contact feel like they're the most important person in her life.

A little over one month ago, on July 31st, Sarah, Shane and Josh were spending her week-long vacation from teaching hiking in the mountains of Iraqi Kurdistan, in a region of Iraq that is increasingly popular with Western tourists. They were on their way to visit a beautiful waterfall they'd been told they should not miss when they may have accidentally strayed over the unmarked Iranian border and were arrested. They made a brief call to their companion, Shon Meckfessel (who had stayed behind, not feeling well), to tell him they'd been detained, but haven't been heard from since.

Now some argue that they should have known better than to travel in that part of the world. Heck, I have to admit, I even had a moment when I said, "What were they thinking?" But the truth is, they are world citizens, comfortable in a multitude of environments, and they chose to spend their vacation in a peaceful part of Iraq where many tourists feel comfortable traveling. Regardless of whether or not you think they were being naïve, they did not ask to be in the situation they are in now.

One of the reasons I am so concerned about Sarah, Shane and Josh is that I have two kids of my own who are incredibly worldly, well-heeled and intelligent. It could just as easily be my son in this situation, and I don't honestly know what I would do if he were. I can hardly even begin to comprehend it.

When I met Sarah's mom, Norah, at the press conference, I was overwhelmed by her composure, dignity and openness. She has been dealing with this situation on a daily, moment-to-moment basis for over a month, and I can only imagine how many moments of anxiety, grief and fear she's had in almost two months. However, she welcomed me with surprising graciousness, and was genuinely present for our conversation in a way that was truly admirable. I offered what help I could... a listening ear, someone to reach out to, but I know, as a mother, the only thing that will help will be that phone call saying her daughter is on her way home.

So, where do the love and miracles come in?

Shortly after the press conference, I heard someone say, "There is nowhere Love isn't." I immediately thought of Sarah, Shane and Josh - wondering if they're together, fed, safe or something much different. I didn't want to let my mind wander to the awful possibilities, but I couldn't help it.

Pondering that statement, I envision Sarah meditating on forgiveness for her captors, smiling at them, bringing as much love as possible to this terribly dark situation. My mind wanders to all the horrific, unspeakable atrocities that happen all over the world on a daily basis. And I have to believe that Love is everywhere, even in those places.

If we can trust that Love is everywhere and live from that stance, without allowing ourselves to get complacent or bitter, what might be possible for Sarah, Shane and Josh? Can we bring awareness to their plight and stay compassionate toward their captors? Can we send as much Love to the people who arrested them as we do to Sarah, Shane and Josh? What miracles could be possible if we did that?

I know I don't have any answers, only questions at this point. But what I do know is I'm going to continue to send Love to Sarah, Shane, Josh and their families, as well as their captors, and all who are involved in helping to resolve this unfortunate set of circumstances. I do know that, for me, holding everyone in the light of love and compassion is what helps me to stay active in a powerful, positive and effective way.

This is not to say there is no room for expressing our feelings of fear, grief, anger and confusion. To the contrary, we must express and share those feelings with each other so we can continue to think clearly and come back to Love. So, I offer this to Sarah, Shane and Josh, and their families - please know that you are held, that all of your feelings are welcome, and that there are more people with you than you can possibly imagine.

At the press conference, they said public awareness is really important, so maybe this is one small way I can help bring awareness to the plight of these three incredible people. Now the question is, are you willing to help? If so, what are you willing to do? Please visit www.freethehikers.com to help bring these three wonderful people home, and bring love and miracles where they are most needed.

Distraction or Action? Fasting for Zimbabwe

2009-01-28T11:13:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, in support of my goal of finishing a first draft of the writing for my book in the next 90 days (oh jeez! I just said it publicly, like I said I would in my last post- now I have to do it! Oh well, no turning back now…), I made a commitment to cut out as many distractions as possible from my life. I sent an email to some folks with whom I've created a local event saying I need to bow out for now, I decided to let other folks handle a correspondence in which I'd had limited input anyway, and I committed to deleting all email notices from social networks and to only check those sites once or twice a week. Pretty proud of myself, I went to bed with a feeling of conviction and satisfaction about staying focused.

Well, you know how, when we make a declaration to the Universe, it does everything it can to challenge the strength of that declaration? It teases our commitment and conviction by bringing us more of what we say we are giving up, less of what we say we are creating, and frustrates our efforts in order to build our muscle of resolve. At least, that's what I believe. So… of course, I get up this morning, and after doing my "morning things," go to check my email and there in bold, black letters is a plea to join in solidarity with the people of Zimbabwe by pledging to fast for a day.

What am I supposed to do with that? Delete it? Ignore it? "Save it for later?" I don't think so!
There went my resolve to not get distracted, to stay on point with my daily routine and get my writing done before ten o'clock. Yes, I allowed myself to get caught up in a "distraction" this morning for about thirty minutes by signing the pledge to fast in support of the situation in Zimbabwe, sending email notices to as many folks as I could and creating an event on Facebook to support this critical cause. Hey, it only took thirty minutes!

For about ten minutes I felt bad about it, beat myself up a little bit and admonished myself that I must not get caught up in things that take me away from "my work." Then, I realized a few things: one- that, if I don't do something by participating in this cause, I have no right to complain about what's happening over there; two- it is "my work" to get involved in a way that is doable for me; and three- that I could write about this situation and incorporate it into my daily writing time. After all, I have had a lot of strong feelings, thoughts and words about what is happening in Zimbabwe in the last couple of years, and it's about time I put my writing where my mouth is, so to speak.

I decided, in that moment, that, instead of beating myself up for being "distracted," I would turn a distraction into an action! I know that there is the strong possibility that this is just a really good excuse for extraneous behavior, but I'm choosing not to see it that way. I mean, come on, I cannot sit here in my comfortable home, eating my breakfast, sipping my tea, enjoying the beauty of this winter morning and just do nothing. That would be unpardonable.

The thing is, I feel particularly connected to what is happening there because, when my daughter had the incredible opportunity to travel in southern Africa with an awe-inspiring program, The Traveling School (http://www.travelingschool.com), the driver and cook for the semester were from Zimbabwe. Japhet's daughter even joined the girls for several weeks at the end of the trip. I feel as if I have a personal connection to them through my daughter, and that I have a responsibility to do whatever I can to support them.

From time to time, I have asked my daughter about what is happening with them and if there is anything I can do to help, but up until now it seemed like nothing can be done. The other day, when I asked again, she said we could buy each of their families a cow- that having animals, particularly cows, is a really helpful thing for families there. How do we do it, though? If we send money, that only gets confiscated by corrupt officials. We certainly can't send a cow, and even aid organizations can't seem to get through.

In other words, how do we begin to make a dent in what seems to be an overwhelming steel wall of Mugabe's resistance to aid, to the reality of the cholera epidemic and to helping his people in any real way. It's like a huge Wall of Denial. We have had countless conversations about this issue and it seems so complex, and it always colored by the fact that I don't understand this resistance. I judge it, make him wrong and speak in frustration about the decisions he has made and the things he has said about his own country. It seems to me like he doesn't care.

"So," I ask myself, "What can I do to move from my own place of resistance and judgment to a place of openness and true service from over 10,000 miles away? What can I do, here in the small town of Avery, California, to help? How can I make peace with the one in me who is in denial, who resists change and who turns away help when she most needs it?" These are questions that I believe must be asked by each one of us who wants to help or "do good" in the world.

I think that, in the end, I must remember that I am everything, that I am capable of just as much horror, neglect and abuse as that man across the globe. If I were given that much power, would I, too, abuse it? Would I, too, turn away from the "hungry masses" with a wave of my hand, dismissing the realities that are plainly in view? Or would I be a "leader for and of the people," like I continue to hope and believe our new president is being? I don't know… and that scares me. I have been more of a sheep than I care to admit sometimes, losing my voice when I see injustices in public, not standing up for my oppressed brothers and sisters because of a multitude of stories and fears in my own mind. But I do believe that, if I own and embrace the possibility that I could be just as cruel and ignorant as that, then I believe I am taking the first step toward being able to be truly "helpful."

So, I "pick myself up, dust myself off" and begin the work of seeking out the dark corners of my heart, bringing them to the light and feeling the attendant feelings that arise. I start by alerting as many people as I can to this action, this fast for solidarity, and write about it, post it to my blog, sharing it with the world in my own small way. I commit now (again in public- the only way to keep myself accountable!) to seeing what I can do to raise money to buy a cow each for Crispen and Japhet's families. I commit now to living up to the fullness of my purpose on the planet in every way possible so that all can have a fair shot at a good life.

Staying honest... making commitments public

2009-01-26T18:06:00.000-08:00

There's nothing quite like making our commitments public to really hold ourselves accountable. So, I have decided to begin this New Year (the way I see it, January 20th was the official New Year!) by blogging a lot more often (I'm not willing to commit to a daily thing- waaaay too much!) in order to hold myself accountable to what I say I want to create and as a way to keep my commitment to writing much more tangible this year. So, if you are reading this, thank you for being my invisible "Accountability Buddy" ...and, as they say, "Carpe diem!"

I want to expose my internal dialogues and share them with others so they can see that even someone like me, who speaks to her dreams and visions and talks about all I've got going on in a really positive upbeat way, struggles with issues like confidence, discipline and motivation. Just because I'm writing a book, working on my music and coaching doesn't mean I don't wrestle with these things; as a matter of fact, I'd venture to say that folks who are working toward things that mean a lot to them, who have big goals and grand visions, probably wrestle with these issues even more than the "average Joe" in large part because of the vastness of their sense of responsibility to, not just their family and/or community but, the whole world at large. I sometimes find it challenging, as if in making my declaration to the world that I'm a writer, musician and coach, to live up to my own expectations and the expectations I've set up others to have of me, too.

I think it's a real fallacy people buy into that sets up famous and/or powerful motivators, speakers, actors, musicians, writers, politicians and other leaders to be perfect, to "have it all together." And, let me be clear now, I’m not lumping myself in with that group of folks – YET! What I am saying, though, is that I believe, whether someone is "already there" or they are "on their way," they need to remember and honor that they are not machines that can go and go without taking breaks, without down time and self-care. They need to remember and honor their humanity.

Having said that, I am recommitting to my writing and my music, to getting "out there" as much as possible and, at the same time, to taking impeccable care of myself in the process. I commit to my meditation, my exercise and my good eating habits. I commit to continuing to keep my personal space free of clutter and distractions. I commit to loving myself so much that it feeds my heart and soul and fires my internal flame in a way that brings incredible power to my actions "out there," whatever they may be.

I know we all fall on our diapers, mess up, take two steps back or slack off from time to time. We all do that. But it is my intention to always get back up, clean it up, take 4 steps forward and give myself the down time I need to regenerate and rejuvenate for the journey. Even when I fall down for weeks at a time, I'm not going to use that as an excuse to beat myself up or go into a depression. I'm choosing to use it as a lesson for myself in humility and grace. As long as I can call up on those two qualities, I believe I'll be able to do anything I was put here to do!

Do Your Part Two: Hope and Reconciliation in a New EraDo Your Part Two: Hope and Reconciliation in a New Era

2008-12-08T15:59:00.000-08:00

This morning, as I was walking past our small barn admiring the beauty of the autumn colors and the unusual warmth of the November breeze, I noticed a runner approaching and wondered who it was. We don't get too many folks out here on our road, since we're about four miles from the nearest town (consisting of a post office, a bar and a trailer park). Turns out it was the pastor of our most popular local church out for his early morning exercise.

In the moments after we exchanged friendly greetings, I had a wave of compassion flood through me for this man who, I have to admit, I have judged in the past. Let me explain….

I was born and raised, and now again (after several long-term sojourns out into the "big world") live in a rural, conservative, Christian-centered county in the Sierra Foothills of California. There are pro's and con's to living here. The pace is slower, it is quieter, the Sheriff's Log reports such incidents as "suspicious person seen near gas station," folks don't have to lock their doors and most folks know each other. There are also a lot of big trucks and rifles, a clear lack of diversity and tolerance, and numerous bumper stickers stating "Flatlanders Suck." Needless to say, it can be a bit "vanilla" around here. When I was in high school, the only two darker skinned students were bi-racial brothers, and that was a big deal.

Things are changing, however, albeit slowly; with an influx of transplants from places like the San Francisco bay area, there is a little less of a "Leave It to Beaver" feel here, but sometimes I still feel like we're about 20 years behind the times. To illuminate, I remember, at my 10-year high school reunion, one of the guys asked me where I was living at the time, and when I answered, "Berkeley," he remarked, "Oooohhh," as if I had some sort of contagious disease, and slowly backed away.

The thing is, I was raised here in this sleepy little county in what was, at the time, very likely the most left-wing family in the county. I am a "flaming liberal," as one of my daughter's more conservative friends likes to say with great gusto - a card-carrying member of an extended family that is progressive to say the least.

However, even with all of my progressive ideals about equality and social justice, I have been known sling mud along with the best of them. Even though I was raised to find the best in people, to not make assumptions, to ask questions if I had them and to always give someone the benefit of the doubt, I have still bought into the cultural soup of media-saturated behaviors that permeated every area of my life. It seems inescapable and I don't even watch television!

We grow up learning to judge, dismiss, ignore, belittle and sometimes even abuse others. It's part of our culture and our psychological structure to make ourselves feel better at others' expense. But at what cost?

As I was walking home after this friendly exchange (and they have always been friendly with Dave), I began to think about all of the ways in which I had judged, said negative things about their church, and even avoided contact with folks I knew from that congregation, all because of a couple of experiences I had had with some of his members over 10 years ago. In feeling judged by some of the members of his congregation, I in turn judged the entirety of that group for being exclusionary, judgmental and fundamentalist.

I have no idea what makes this man tick, or what he is passionate about. Actually, in every interaction I have had with him, I have always walked away with the feeling that he is a good man. I have no idea what their church does for its members, for our community or for organizations it may support around the world. I do know, however, that I have judged them simply on the basis of a couple experiences and the hearsay that runs around the more liberal camps in our small community.

If that is what I've been carrying around, knowing my friend's response at my 10 year reunion (and subsequent rolled eyes during conversations with some not-so-like-minded folks over the years), what are "they" thinking, saying and avoiding about me? I'm not saying this because I care on a personal level (I used to… a whole lot) but because, if I am thinking, saying and doing these things and "they" are thinking, saying and doing these things, how in the world can we expect to heal the larger rifts in our communities, states, nations and world when this happens on such a microcosmic level?

I mean, even at the beginning of this article, I was guilty of judging the people in my community as "bad" or "less-than" for carrying rifles and driving big trucks, implying that their behavior and choices equal ignorance and intolerance. We make judgments all the time; it's part of being human.

So, what if we all admit that we have judgments, but instead of letting them run us, we acknowledge them and move toward those we judge in order to find our common ground? Isn't that what our President Elect is asking us to do? Can you imagine a world where we know we judge, but we don't let that get in between us as people, as members of groups, organizations, communities, even nations? What kind of healing could occur then?

I believe that we are all working toward the same goals, we all want the same things – a decent living, good schools for our children, to be healthy, to live lives that have meaning, to be of service in some way, to make the world a better place. How we do that may look very different. But is the how what we should be focusing on or should we be focusing on the fact that we could begin to work together, despite our differences, and actually support each other in reaching these common goals?

I believe it is time that we all come together, not only in word but in deed, recognize our differences and celebrate them. Just because we may have different paths to God/Christ/Heaven or enlightenment doesn't mean that we have to belittle each other for our chosen paths.

As the Zen story says, it's not the finger pointing at the moon that is what we need to focus on- how different it is from ours, how bony or fat, whether or not it is well-groomed- but rather the fact that it's pointing to something outside ourselves, outside of our ego structures, outside of our stories of how our path is better than someone else's path.

I am certain that this congregation, with its committed, passionate pastor, wants everyone to feel welcome, wants everyone to know the blessings of the joys they experience in knowing God in the way they do. It is not up to me to judge them for being on the path they are on, nor is it up to them to convince me that the path I am on is wrong. It is up to all of us to love and celebrate each other and carry and transform the burden of these trying times together, creating whole, healed and loving communities.

It is time that we chalk up our bad behavior to immaturity and lack of knowledge, get over our little egoic selves and come together. If we don't do it here, in my tiny little town with its liberal and conservative camps, tent stakes firmly planted in this common ground, then we have no hope for doing it anywhere else. And we have no right to judge what happens in Israel and Lebanon, Ireland and North Ireland or anywhere else. We must begin here. We must be wiling to step across that line we have drawn so arbitrarily in the sand and grasp each other's hands in a gesture of humility and hope.

I think I owe that pastor an apology.

copyright 2008

Saying Goodbye to Farley… A Diary of His Last Days

2008-12-08T15:54:00.000-08:00

Friday, December 5, 2008
I walked down to the meadow with our dog, Farley, for the last time this morning.

It was particularly poignant because that's where my mom's bench is… the one that has "Wendy Lou" lovingly carved in curly letters by one of her best friends. This is the spot where, seven and a half years ago, a beautiful memorial shrine was created the day she died- with wind chimes, notes on the fence, letters and candles, and more flowers than I could water. This is where I go when I feel sad or upset, talking to her as I sit on her bench and look out across the meadow at her favorite tree, a gnarly old cedar standing sentinel on the edge of the forest. This is the spot where, on any given day, you can still see a car parked by the gate, and a figure walking through the meadow or sitting on the bench. It's such a reassuring spot, like a sanctuary for anyone who needs to connect with the spirit of the woman who was the matriarch of our little community.

Farley was actually my mom's dog before we welcomed him into our family. Having rescued him as a pup, she loved and cared for him better than anyone ever could have; as a matter of fact, she doted on him. The kids were 12 and 7 when we moved up here and adopted 6-year-old Farley, so he's been a part of our family for over half of my daughter's life and he was my son's companion on many an adventure in the woods. After my mom died and we moved here into her house, it felt so natural that Farley was back in the home in which he had grown up. He saw us through living back and forth between here and the bay area, and a divorce where he shared time between my ex, John, and myself, and finally the last six months of his 16 years back here. Through it all, though, he was ever eager, expectant as my daughter said, and happy to be part of our many adventures.

I wonder if he's lost his sense of what it was like to be a puppy, or even a younger dog, running free and easy through the meadow or down the trails. Maybe he's lost his memory of having a fully functioning body or what he used to bark about, or what it was like to swim in the lake and fruitlessly chase the mallards that live there. But I don't think so; I like to think he remembers it all. I like to think he remembers every wonderful moment of his long, long life, and that he is looking forward to being free of this old, tired body so he can run and romp again. I like to think that he's looking forward to shedding the pain, the inabilities and limitations of that ancient body so he can reclaim his vibrant spirit in the next part of his soul's journey.

Farley and I made our way very slowly down the long, steep driveway, my hands gently nudging his frail old body to one side or the other to keep him from wandering off over the edge or into the bear clover. As we neared the gate in the meadow, he got as excited as he could given his arthritic condition and started sniffing around in the piles of oak leaves lying on the ground. I let him wander around a bit, and then he headed toward the barn. So we walked down the trail for a bit. Then he paused, we turned around and headed back for the house. It was such a simple ritual, something we'd done every day for years, but we hadn't done this for the last few months, as it had become so painful for him to walk long distances. I could tell, though, that he really appreciated this little journey.

Saturday, December 6, 2008, 6:00am
This morning, Farley and I arose at our usual 5:30, walked carefully down the stairs, my hand on his collar to keep him from falling. I opened the door and gently guided him off the small porch to go "do his business," then began to prepare his breakfast as I have every day for a long time. This was the last time I would perform this ritual; fixing the food and pain medicines, opening the door where he is patiently waiting, gently guiding him into the kitchen and his waiting bowl of food.

The entire time I was preparing his breakfast, I was thinking (as I was crying and smiling), "This is his last breakfast. This is the last time we'll do this. This is the last can of dog food. This is the last time I'll carry that bowl into the pantry. I can't believe we're here; today will be his last day in this body." It was so incredibly sad. And then he didn't eat- which is very unusual for Farley. It's almost as if he knew he didn't need to eat where he's going.

There is such a bittersweet feeling- the tears and the smiles come at the same time. The tears are only for how much I will miss him, his sweet presence in our home and the joy and love he brings to everyone who meets him. The smiles are for the thousands of memories of him, especially the everyday memories- the way he puts his paw on you when you pat him, like an acknowledgement of your loving touch. The way he stands right next to me when I am cooking, following me around- not so much for a hopeful scrap, but just to be nearby. And lately, the way he waits patiently at the back door for someone to let him in the house, his head in the corner, staring at who knows what. The way he bumps into things more and more, but never seems to be phased by it at all.

And the memories of him as a younger dog, running through the meadow, nose to the ground, sniffing for gophers or who knows what, and then, finding something satisfying, digging with all his might at least a foot into the soft, loamy earth with the greatest of abandon and glee. The way his ears used to flap, like Dumbo the Elephant, when he rode in the back seat, head out the window, nose twitching, catching the smells on the breeze. The times he would bark incessantly when we let him outside, often we thought, just because he liked the sound of his own voice. Or the way he would find the biggest rock he could possibly find, carry it around proudly for a while, then go and bury it in some secret place.

He doesn't do those things anymore; he barks to be let in if we don't see him standing in the corner, but he's too deaf to go out and protect us from all the bad things out there. He's too arthritic to run; he stumbles when he shakes his sweet little head these days. His body is in pain, he sleeps most of the time and when he's not sleeping, he sort of wanders around as if he's looking for something he lost.

It has been such a long road, and he has been so incredibly good to our family- so loving, loyal, playful and present. He's been a steady companion, even through all the times when I was impatient with him, frustrated with cleaning up his messes in the house, scolding him for getting into the garbage again. He's been there, the rock of our family, the steady force, connecting us to this place, reminding me of how easily unconditional kindness and love are to give. He's been one of the best teachers I've ever had, and for that and so much more I will always be grateful.

We will miss you, Farley, and will always hold you in our hearts as a treasured friend, loyal companion and trusted member of our family. You have given so much to us, more than you'll ever know. Thank you. We know it's time for you to go; you're old, 112 in dog years - that's a full life… a full life.

Sunday, December 7, 2008
The candle we lit for him on Thanksgiving Day, which has been lit almost every day since, is burning down to its last bit of small, fragile wick as I write, reminding me of the last week of Farley's life. Like the flame, his spirit was so incredibly bright; as we remarked during his ceremony, "Everyone loved Farley!" And, yet, like the wick, his body, small and fragile was finite and ready to let go. This last week, he slept most of the time, only getting up occasionally, and when he did, he tended to wander about the house, looking confused and bumping into the furniture. It was so sad to see him like this; but, as we all agreed, he felt very peaceful. It was as if he knew it was time.

The ceremony was so lovely. We laid out a sheet and several blankets, one of them the small coverlet that I had used in the last month to cover him in these early winter nights. That was one of my mom's favorite blankets, and I think she'd be glad to know we wrapped it around Farley's sweet body as we laid him in the ground below the house. As we waited for the vet to arrive, we sat, my son, daughter, ex-husband, Farley and myself, on the blankets, sharing memories, feeding Farley slices of apple and stroking his long, black fur. From time to time, we would pause, and a tender silence would fill the air.

The vets arrived (the most compassionate husband and wife team- we are so blessed to have them in our community, and I can never thank them enough for coming to our home today) to give Farley the overdose of anesthesia that would send him to his final sleep. Before Kathy did so, though, Tanner read a passage from the Baghavad Gita about death and the lack of need to mourn for the dying or dead. It was so perfect. Then, we helped Farley lay down, speaking words of love and continuing to pet him, Kathy gave him the injection, and he began to get sleepy.

Soon, as we continued to stroke and talk to him, he fell into a very deep sleep, his breathing deep and slow, and he began to snore. We all had a wonderful release of sweet laughter, remembering how many times we had heard that sound in the last ten years. Our tears were flowing, and, as I looked around at the kids, John, and Kathy, I felt such love and appreciation for all of them, who had each, in their own way, loved and cared so much for Farley. Later, Tanner said he saw Farley's spirit leap from his body with joyous puppy energy, and I heard a distinct, "I’m free!" shortly after.

After his breathing diminished, and then stopped, Kathy checked his heartbeat and pronounced him as having made his transition fully. It was such a profound moment, and honestly, it brought me right back to that hospital room in March of 2001, where a small group of loved ones sat in the wee hours of the morning with my mom as she let go of her body. It was so similar, so beautiful, so hard and so final.

As we sat in silence, the sun streamed in through the trees, in perfect alignment with Farley's body, as if it was welcoming him to the spirit world, lighting his way. We began to speak quietly, sharing more memories, and eventually, I went into the house to see if my housemates wanted to come and say goodbye to the dog they had come to care for in the last couple of months. We all walked down to be together and continued sharing stories as the sun set.

Then, after removing his collar and gently placing his body on the plaid coverlet, we wrapped it and lowered it into the hole Tanner and John had dug earlier. He looked so peaceful there, as if he was just taking one of his many naps. We stood around admiring his serenity, then placed some mementos near him- a pinecone, a rock and some dog food for his journey, we each laid a shovelful of earth over his body. After he was covered, we laid some stones on top, gathered all of our things and walked slowly to the house, amid tears, laughter and quiet conversation.

As John said, "This is the end of an era in more ways than one." Farley's death marks the end of a chapter of each of our lives in different ways, to be considered by each in our own hearts. His passing marks the beginning of a new life for his soul about which we can only speculate, but we all agreed he is probably happier, freer and digging a whole lot of holes in the big meadow in the sky.

copyright 2008

Do Your Part: Taking Responsibility in a New Era

2008-11-20T15:06:00.000-08:00

Last week, on Tuesday November 4th, I woke up in a panic, thinking, "I haven't done enough!" I was filled with a moment of anxiety and dread, considering the possibility that I hadn't done enough to affect a real change in our country, I hadn't made enough calls or talked to enough people, and now it was too late.

Then I took a breath, got on my knees, and started to pray. I prayed hard. I asked God to help us, to guide us, regardless of the outcome of this historic election. I asked what I could do to make sure I didn't wake up feeling this way again, and I heard a gentle voice say, "Do your part."

So, taking a deep breath, I began to search my heart for what that would be... I knew I'd have to step up in a way I never have before, and I decided that what I needed to do was to write to everyone I know and encourage them to take a deep look inside, see how they can step up their own personal game, and to make a commitment they maybe have been unwilling to make before now. Now, a week later, having had time to think, process and complete this letter, I ask you now, "What is your part? And what are you going to do?"

If you ever doubted that you could effect change, now is the time to release that doubt and be willing to do your part, whatever that looks like. This is just the beginning....

For the first time in my adult life, I feel a growing sense of patriotism. According to the dictionary, patriotism is "a
pride in or devotion to the country somebody was born in or is a citizen of," and by that definition, I do feel patriotic. I feel proud of this country and devoted to it in a way I never have before. And this patriotism stems not from a feeling of panic, desperation or hopelessness, but rather from a feeling of hope.

For the first time in my life - the first time - I feel invited by the person in the highest office in our country to participate in the process of Democracy, and I am willing to do whatever I need to step up to that invitation.

Like millions of citizens of the United States, in the last few years I gave up hope for a better future. A part of me withered away to almost nothing as I watched in shock while we continued a devastating war for no good reason, as our economy took a perilous dive, as more and more people became disenfranchised, grew hopeless, and threw up their arms in despair about any possibility of a positive change ever occurring. For the first time since the cold war, I was afraid for my children's future - deeply afraid, and intensely angry.

However, I felt like I had no outlet for my fears and concerns, no way to feel heard by a "government that had no pride," (The Pretenders). I allowed myself to get lazy. I gave up hope. I didn't do the things I could have done to do my part and participate in this government as a voting member of our citizenry.

I've heard some people say that it's up to the government to take care of us - we pay taxes for that. We should be able to trust the people we elect to do their jobs so we don't have to be a watchdog over them. After having given it some thought, what I have to say to those folks is, "Has that worked in the past? Has it worked for us to not take responsibility for the things we want to see done? Has it worked to trust our politicians to take care of things for us?"

We have an opportunity now - a great opportunity - to participate in this process called Democracy. If we care about an issue, we need to make sure that we take personal responsibility for making it happen, or at least do everything we can so we know we gave it our best.

So, if you're concerned about the growing number of African and Latin American men who are incarcerated in our already overcrowded prisons, if you're passionate about making sure that every child in this country has the same access to a good education regardless of where they live, if you're dedicated to providing a decent home and health care for every citizen of this country, if you are worried about our global climate crisis, then step up. Do your part! There is no excuse - if you think you have elected someone to do a job for you, think again.

We face unprecedented challenges, not only here but around the globe, and it would be foolish of us to think that, simply because we have elected someone who stands for change and creative solutions, we can sit back and relax. On the contrary, having elected a new leader who has clearly spoken out and asked the people of this country to participate. It is time for us to step up more than we ever have before. This choice that the people of our country have made is a clarion call for change, for a radical paradigm shift and most especially for responsibility.

This is about moving from a patriarchal paradigm where the father figure says, "Trust me. I'll take care of you. Turn your power over to me and I'll handle everything." When we do this, we become numb, like the frogs in the pot of very slowly boiling water, staying in as it gets hotter and hotter, until they boil to death. We have been frogs long enough!

We put ourselves in the position of being victims and then we end up complaining to everyone around us, whining about why things aren't going the way we think they should be going. I say, "It's time to get over it and step up!" This is about making a shift from the paradigm of giving away our power to a paradigm of co-creation, of taking shared responsibility for what happens in our nation. We do not have to turn our power over to someone just because we elected them, regardless of which party - be it Republican, Democratic, Green, Independent, Libertarian or anything else.

One of the foundational elements of creating what you want is taking responsibility. Taking responsibility means that you are willing to give up your excuses for not doing, being or having all you want in your life. Taking responsibility can look like making time for your family, paying your bills on time, or making an apology you know you need to make. Taking responsibility can look like donating money to a cause you believe in, volunteering your time and effort to someone or something you support, or staying involved in our democratic process.

Our planet is in crisis, our economy is in crisis, our health, our children and the majority of our citizens are in crisis, and we can no longer afford to sit back and wait for someone else to take the lead. It is up to us! I believe it is time that we all stop blaming "them" (regardless of who "they" are) for the conditions of our lives, our pocketbooks, and most importantly our climate. It is time to stop playing the victim, do whatever we need to do to get over ourselves and take action.

If you are unwilling to take responsibility, then don't complain to me. As of today, I refuse to allow myself to complain because I have things to do, people to encourage and a planet to honor and protect. I have no time for anything that holds me back from living the purpose G-d put me here to fulfill. I commit to living my vision and I urge you to do the same.

So, what is your vision? What is your passion? What are you willing to do? How uncomfortable are you willing to get in order to make this world a better place for our children, their children and generations to come? We must do something! Regardless of your political beliefs, religious affiliations or cultural mores, you have a responsibility to do your part. If not, you can sit by quietly while the world changes around you.

We have an opportunity to recreate a true democracy. I believe the founding fathers and mothers of this country fought for that - for everyone to have a voice, a say, in what happens on every level. This creates true accountability in our government. That is what President Elect Obama is saying, "Work with me. Let's do this together."

I believe that, regardless of your opinions about his capability to lead our country for the next four years, each citizen of this country has a responsibility to step up and support him in eliciting real, lasting and positive change. There is too much at stake not to do everything we can to be the change we want to see in the world. YES WE CAN!

Endnote: Thank you, Barack Obama, Debbie Ford, Rich and Yvonne Dutra-St. John and all other courageous leaders who are willing to risk judgment for speaking their truth. You are my inspiration.