David Roche graciously helped me form a possible new title for this blog of mine. Among a list of verbs he attached to Heart ( and he got pretty creative) was Splash as in Heart Splash! I came up with a maybe to be used subtitle:
Musings in a Physically Challenge Vehicle Circa "52: A Collector's Item.
What do you think my Dear Readers? Feedback appreciated.
More to follow when time parks its ever turning wheels into the lane for thoughtful and reflective writing.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Title Masters Come Hither!
Lying in my bed the other night, pleased that I have finally started a blog after thinking about doing so for so long it suddenly occured to me I'd do better with a catchier name. HeartSpeak Productions is very sweet and lovely but I would like something much more distinctive, that's to say, crisply descriptive and babblely playful. My friend David Roche is great at coming up with titles for stories. Do check out his amazing one-man show, "The Church of 80% Sincerity" when you and he are in the same area (davidroche.com). I pray that something pops, slides, or better yet wildly splashes into my brain a stays there long enough for me to remember by the time I get to my desk. Any suggestions from you dear reader would be greatly appreciated. While I can't guarantee a prize for the best submission until I am a famous blogger your name will certainly be on the honor roll of credits!
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Meet Them at the Door Laughing?
Physical pain is daily visitor. It is by far not my only visitor but it certainly is a regular. If I were Rumi I would grandly exclaim, “Oh, good morning Pain. How great to see you! Please, do come on in and have a seat. May I take your hat and bring you some nice tea and toast? Wheat allergies, you say. No problem! I have a crisp juicy red apple I can slice up just for you. Welcome to my table of guests!” But I am not as delighted to see this visitor as Rumi would have me be. In fact I am pretty darn grumpy with this sparking fire cracker. This particular guest dominates the conversation with its companion Worry a close second. Still, I did remember, as I promise myself I would in winter, to notice how warm it was when I woke up. How lovely it is to slumber in a thin cotton spaghetti-strap top. To feel the soles of my bare feet slid softly against each other before they’re encased in socks that tug come the cold winter nights.
Two days ago I dissolved in fearsome quiet tears when my beloved friend and colleague, Pam, asked me how I was as I slipped stealthy into our small office shared with some 25 plus amazing clinicians interning at this agency of mercy and generosity. Because I know she loves me and I love her, because to hug her is like hugging something as big and softly enfolding as the great and compassionate divine mother, because her golden-brown eyes are deep and warm and her smile is radiantly bright and sweet, because she is a magical Celtic love knot of Goodness, because she just is one of the best, I let all of my fears and sadness freely reel out. They raced out of my mouth, out of my belly, these elliptical river rocks, rolling head over heals far down into the steep bank by the edge of the road we walk along. Through these hungry tears of mine and a whorl of words I told her of nearly all the things stored up in me I wanted no one to know. And here I am telling you some of them dear reader, though not in full… At least not for now. Here I am, I have worked so hard for 6 years to become a therapist, something I wanted to do since I was 12 years old and I am beseeched by pain. I’ve a confidence I never before possessed as so many of the fears that chased me have been tamed to manageable magnitudes. In the last 6 years I have challenged myself over and over again, willing to be a fool, make mistakes, try new and exciting ways to guide others on their healing journey and yet this cruel hearted lasso keeps rounding me up. Spiritual teachings would I suggest I surrender. Surrender to Unfairness, another unseemly guest, following many of us round each bend of the road. Will I ever outgrow, “It’s not fair! So and so gets to do such and such, why can’t I…?” It’s sort of funny in a way. How we can be such little kids in grown-up middle-age bodies!
The next morning I woke up happy because Pam listened to me “so good” it was a healing. My spirit felt cleansed and light even with the physical pain there. At work when I saw her she looked different too. Clearer, lighter than the day before. Instantly I realized she had given her all to me when she herself was close to empty. Guilt popped up for a sec but as soon as she gave me that radiant smile of hers I knew I need not worry. Speaking Oval was coming up for the afternoon’s training. I would have two and a half minutes to speak before my fellow interns. I knew I would tell them what my disability is followed by some impromptu reflections. A nervous excitement worked on me for hours. 1:00 pm we gathered. Talked about the format and finally started in. I uncharacteristically went up to the front of the room early. Feeling into the wholeness of me, grounding, moving and swaying slowly side to side, I look into the eyes of my listeners. A groundswell of powerful joy surged into my body, heart and soul. I began to talk, surprised at how slowly the words came out for the energy was so immense the words had to weave their way into this palpable amoeba of love filling the space. I felt myself grow bigger. Fill up the whole room, my legs, minutes earlier in pain were rushing with gentle pleasant quivers. Gentle quivers rolling just along the surface of a deep, deep river that flowed through a very large red rock canyon. All of it me, them, us. In essence, huge magic, wonderful, playful, transformative magic took front, center and back stage and I - I was in my joy. I wanted stay up there far longer than my allotted precious two and a half minutes but had no choice but make the most of my short time. It would only be fair. Yes, to make the most of my time here on this stage. With magic as my instrument it might be possible.
The Guest House
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meaness,
Some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re 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 whoever comes,
Because each has been sent
As a guide from beyond.
- Rumi
Two days ago I dissolved in fearsome quiet tears when my beloved friend and colleague, Pam, asked me how I was as I slipped stealthy into our small office shared with some 25 plus amazing clinicians interning at this agency of mercy and generosity. Because I know she loves me and I love her, because to hug her is like hugging something as big and softly enfolding as the great and compassionate divine mother, because her golden-brown eyes are deep and warm and her smile is radiantly bright and sweet, because she is a magical Celtic love knot of Goodness, because she just is one of the best, I let all of my fears and sadness freely reel out. They raced out of my mouth, out of my belly, these elliptical river rocks, rolling head over heals far down into the steep bank by the edge of the road we walk along. Through these hungry tears of mine and a whorl of words I told her of nearly all the things stored up in me I wanted no one to know. And here I am telling you some of them dear reader, though not in full… At least not for now. Here I am, I have worked so hard for 6 years to become a therapist, something I wanted to do since I was 12 years old and I am beseeched by pain. I’ve a confidence I never before possessed as so many of the fears that chased me have been tamed to manageable magnitudes. In the last 6 years I have challenged myself over and over again, willing to be a fool, make mistakes, try new and exciting ways to guide others on their healing journey and yet this cruel hearted lasso keeps rounding me up. Spiritual teachings would I suggest I surrender. Surrender to Unfairness, another unseemly guest, following many of us round each bend of the road. Will I ever outgrow, “It’s not fair! So and so gets to do such and such, why can’t I…?” It’s sort of funny in a way. How we can be such little kids in grown-up middle-age bodies!
The next morning I woke up happy because Pam listened to me “so good” it was a healing. My spirit felt cleansed and light even with the physical pain there. At work when I saw her she looked different too. Clearer, lighter than the day before. Instantly I realized she had given her all to me when she herself was close to empty. Guilt popped up for a sec but as soon as she gave me that radiant smile of hers I knew I need not worry. Speaking Oval was coming up for the afternoon’s training. I would have two and a half minutes to speak before my fellow interns. I knew I would tell them what my disability is followed by some impromptu reflections. A nervous excitement worked on me for hours. 1:00 pm we gathered. Talked about the format and finally started in. I uncharacteristically went up to the front of the room early. Feeling into the wholeness of me, grounding, moving and swaying slowly side to side, I look into the eyes of my listeners. A groundswell of powerful joy surged into my body, heart and soul. I began to talk, surprised at how slowly the words came out for the energy was so immense the words had to weave their way into this palpable amoeba of love filling the space. I felt myself grow bigger. Fill up the whole room, my legs, minutes earlier in pain were rushing with gentle pleasant quivers. Gentle quivers rolling just along the surface of a deep, deep river that flowed through a very large red rock canyon. All of it me, them, us. In essence, huge magic, wonderful, playful, transformative magic took front, center and back stage and I - I was in my joy. I wanted stay up there far longer than my allotted precious two and a half minutes but had no choice but make the most of my short time. It would only be fair. Yes, to make the most of my time here on this stage. With magic as my instrument it might be possible.
The Guest House
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meaness,
Some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re 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 whoever comes,
Because each has been sent
As a guide from beyond.
- Rumi
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Finding Home, Finding Sanity
Forget writing reports for work, handwashing blouses and filing wanton papers sitting in messy piles on my desk! It's hot. And still summer. I'm heading to the coast! Lying in bed this Saturday morning I scan my body for aches and pains as become my daily custom. Noting what hurts and what doesn't I express gratitute for the parts that don't and worry for the places that do. Placing my hands across my heart I feel the blooming energy rising up and declare my love for my body, for me, my beloved angels and guides, God/Goddess and my favorite dieties. Back and forth I slowly rock my feet and torso in hopes of relieving some of the back pain. No luck. Reaching over my head I use the bars on the decorous bedframe to gently hoist myself up, marveling at how it came to be that I purchased this bed from a former roommate not knowing how invaluable those bars would become. Ablutions complete I sit down at my rusty old computer to see if I can watch Ted Kennedy Jr. eulogized his incredible, wonderful father, Senator Edward M. Kennedy. Much to my consternation I can't. I sigh hard in frustration.
It's 90 degrees and I love it. I want to live in sun hot days year round. My peripheral vision notes for the millionth time my desk littered with detour signs from my life. My resolve to give myself a day off starts to waver. No, I'm not staying home. Yes, I have reports to write, papers to file, online traffic school to finish, professional material to read, garments to wash by hand, floors to sweep and mop but I'm going to Mt. Tamalpias. First back to bed to rest my back and sleep as the 6 hours I slumbered was not enough and then I'm off on a journey.
Heading down 116 in my car I notice my impatience to get to the best, most succulent part of my drive. When I finally arrive in Fairfax the impatience lifts and I settle in to my car seat. Driving west from this great little town I wish I lived in I start to climb Mt. Tam. The two lane road is narrow and windy. I have to pay attention even though I want to look at the houses and trees. After a ways I notice hardly anyone else is on this road. It's a little eerie. My heart starts to pound. I observe. Slowly I cruise, the wheels of my vehicle sinking into the slightly crunchy road. Through my four open windows streams the woody fragrances of the trees and dry grass. The smells feed my body as the energy of my surroundings over take me. Bounty after bounty of beautiful trees hovering over, the scenery grows darker and richer. I'm a little scared because I am all alone but there is no turning back to my way of thnking. Into the thick converging woods I continue on. This feels good and right. Speaking wordlessly for the pain in my back, I'm journeying, spiraling into the blackness even though I have to remain alert to the road's vicissitudes. Somehow it works. Mile upon mile I travel and as I do I notice shuffling and shifting in my psyche and body. Compassion surfaces for all the parts that are hurting, mangled in the mumble jumbled mire of so many relationships and conversations I'm sorting out. No wonder my back is hurting. I can't carry all of this. A little concern by the distance I've traveled I check the gas gauge. Plenty full but then I knew that. It was the only tangible thing I had to check. A few more turns in this thickly leafed plot of forrest and then boom! I reached the top of the mountain! The big blue sky leaps out and sunlight gregariously floods the land. Over my right shoulder sprawls the sky matching blue Pacific Ocean, in its inmeasurable immensity stretching out for miles. Elation plumes into my heart. The profoundity of living so close to this magnificent Pacific Ocean is alive in my consciousness. Every turn around a bend reveals another beautiful sight. The mountain terraine on my left is gorgeous. Like a series of carvings. The low rolling waves of the sea beckon me. The balance is perfect between land and water and I feel I am home! I am home on this mountain! My God! This IS my home. It is soulful, beautiful and speaks for me. This awareness, a warm ball, the size of a dark red cherry, swirls through my heart. I am a little taken aback by this realization and long to move back to Marin to be close to this mountain I used to visit regularly. The only way I can make that happen is through magic. My life is far too complicated to do it any other way.
It's 90 degrees and I love it. I want to live in sun hot days year round. My peripheral vision notes for the millionth time my desk littered with detour signs from my life. My resolve to give myself a day off starts to waver. No, I'm not staying home. Yes, I have reports to write, papers to file, online traffic school to finish, professional material to read, garments to wash by hand, floors to sweep and mop but I'm going to Mt. Tamalpias. First back to bed to rest my back and sleep as the 6 hours I slumbered was not enough and then I'm off on a journey.
Heading down 116 in my car I notice my impatience to get to the best, most succulent part of my drive. When I finally arrive in Fairfax the impatience lifts and I settle in to my car seat. Driving west from this great little town I wish I lived in I start to climb Mt. Tam. The two lane road is narrow and windy. I have to pay attention even though I want to look at the houses and trees. After a ways I notice hardly anyone else is on this road. It's a little eerie. My heart starts to pound. I observe. Slowly I cruise, the wheels of my vehicle sinking into the slightly crunchy road. Through my four open windows streams the woody fragrances of the trees and dry grass. The smells feed my body as the energy of my surroundings over take me. Bounty after bounty of beautiful trees hovering over, the scenery grows darker and richer. I'm a little scared because I am all alone but there is no turning back to my way of thnking. Into the thick converging woods I continue on. This feels good and right. Speaking wordlessly for the pain in my back, I'm journeying, spiraling into the blackness even though I have to remain alert to the road's vicissitudes. Somehow it works. Mile upon mile I travel and as I do I notice shuffling and shifting in my psyche and body. Compassion surfaces for all the parts that are hurting, mangled in the mumble jumbled mire of so many relationships and conversations I'm sorting out. No wonder my back is hurting. I can't carry all of this. A little concern by the distance I've traveled I check the gas gauge. Plenty full but then I knew that. It was the only tangible thing I had to check. A few more turns in this thickly leafed plot of forrest and then boom! I reached the top of the mountain! The big blue sky leaps out and sunlight gregariously floods the land. Over my right shoulder sprawls the sky matching blue Pacific Ocean, in its inmeasurable immensity stretching out for miles. Elation plumes into my heart. The profoundity of living so close to this magnificent Pacific Ocean is alive in my consciousness. Every turn around a bend reveals another beautiful sight. The mountain terraine on my left is gorgeous. Like a series of carvings. The low rolling waves of the sea beckon me. The balance is perfect between land and water and I feel I am home! I am home on this mountain! My God! This IS my home. It is soulful, beautiful and speaks for me. This awareness, a warm ball, the size of a dark red cherry, swirls through my heart. I am a little taken aback by this realization and long to move back to Marin to be close to this mountain I used to visit regularly. The only way I can make that happen is through magic. My life is far too complicated to do it any other way.
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