The Good Heart

Quietly and joyfully living each day

In a way

As it should be.

Free.

Unencumbered by abuse, misuse, trials and piles

Of things that maim the tenderness inside

The Kindest  Heart.

She walks in the valleys while soaring above the clouds

Proud.

Laughing loud.

Finding calm where others don’t see

Peace.

She projects an understanding that says

It’s all right to find the best.

Leave the rest.

A mess, time and time again.

The climb to better health only to be beaten back down again

By forces inside ravaging her cells

By forces outside.

Cowboy boots kicking, voice screaming, shoving, shouting, pushing anger of one she loved with all of her Sweet Heart.

Above and out, destroyed, rebuilt

Over and over again.

Nothing can touch the eternal light given.

She knows. She loves.  

She lives the secret of the Good Heart.

Erase and Replace; Everything Is Temporary, Even Me

Sometimes life takes you directions you had no idea you could ever go. I’m feeling really raw right now. The loss of a former student to suicide, the loss of a childhood/young adulthood friend, the loss of a musician friend who I’ll never be able to hear again on this side of the tracks. And the losses of dreams, of an expectation of how life will play itself out. And under it all is this silent constant – a mourning for the mother that I used to know and the realization that she can no longer surf facebook, that she is changing more and more and I’m having to learn painfully how to let go of the one person I never ever want to let go of.

It’s all causing a lot of self-reflection. Even more so than usual. And in the mix, sprinkled in, are other life circumstances that keep pulling me and trying to twist up my heart. I’ve thought how ultimately? Yes, we’re all individual, but mainly, we are REPLACABLE. We like to think we are special. That we are different or unique. And granted, I believe we are to some degree, but there’s this common thread of insignificance that also remains in play. Each of us is simply a number. Here for such a short period of time. In each other’s lives temporarily.

Mothers can become erased by time, disease, distance, miscommunication, misunderstanding. Another mother can walk in. A wife or husband can be disregarded, and another enter the picture. A child can go missing, either deliberately or not, and another can come in and melt one’s heart. A father can leave or be pushed away, another be introduced. A lover can be taken for granted or forgotten or mistreated, another walks in the door. Layer by layer, I feel life has forced me to LET GO. Let go of what isn’t really real. And one of those things is a fairy tale I’ve always held; that someday I would be the difference. I would be noticed as irreplaceable. I would be cherished as “one of a kind”. But I’ve had to put on my big girl panties as age and time and circumstances have played themselves out. And I’ve had to reach deep inside and find that nothing and no one remains intact and solid and concrete. We all cling to that notion. But in reality, we’re as fluid as the mist that creates the rainbows. We shine for awhile in each other’s eyes, but someday vanish into memories held. When this first hit me today so clearly, I literally cried. Then I searched further and found some kind of comfort in the fact that life is all about change and creating itself new. And the easier it is to let go of what we think we see and embrace that reality, the more complete is our own enlightenment and our own personal power. Only I have the ability to know every ounce of my own worth. And only I have the ability to recognize it in everyone else… even those who hurt, destroy or knowingly or unknowingly break me apart. And that is where I came face to face with the strength that is labelled “grace”. One by one we are a collective unit, held in place by gravity and time for maybe, if we’re lucky 85 years. Ever replacing and being replaced with the hope that during the process, we manage to make a slight difference in the life of another human being.

BaLANciNg AcT

I admit it.

I can’t call my mother. I’ve talked less and less often with her. And I’ve struggled with all kinds of guilt and all kinds of other emotions.

It’s painful.

It’s painful to be so far away from her. Painful to know she is trapped inside most of the time. Painful to know she might feel trapped inside her confusion and inside a brain that is drying out from the outside in. Painful to experience (for the third time) the knowing that the women in my family share the Alzheimer’s thread. Painful to feel the ominous understanding that someday my mother will be another huge loss. And selfishly, it’s too hard to deal with most days.

Painful to feel so helpless.

As is often the case, my work on another – my compassion for another - taught me something profound today. While in session, I had this sentence go through my mind, “For every healthy SAD, you need to counter balance with healthy JOY.”  And the bigger the sadness, the greater the need for heavy duty injections of joy. Sounds simple, right? But how many of us get swallowed by the things that are difficult? The things that make us mourn, sorrowful, sad? It dawned on me today, it’s so easy to know sadness. But it’s so crucial and so vitally important to find that same intensity of JOY. Intentionally find things, large and small, that even out the pressure your mind, body and heart feel when dealing with loss. And I haven’t proven it, but I’m pretty sure the AMOUNTS of joy, the number of occurrences that make you smile, laugh and feel warm fuzzies needs to be GREATER than the sad in order to bring about a homeostasis in the soul. All of a sudden riding on that thought, I realized we all need to give ourselves permission to find those reasons to giggle. Discover what things, from hobbies to warms baths to sky diving or whatever it may be, add to your well-being in order to stay healthy and balanced and “whole”.

Don’t just find joy. Seek it out. Live it. Become it and let it keep you upright and let it elevate you on purpose.

No Soliciting, No Proselytizing

A couple from a religious organization repeatedly knock at the door.

An elderly woman inside cowers in fear, hiding in her closet; shaking, tears in her eyes and down her cheeks, wishing they would just go away.

I can’t get this real life scenario out of my head. Nor can I ignore the lessons glaring at me because of it:

#1. Learn how to have a backbone and say “no” when it’s in your best interest.

#2. Stop trying to people please. There’s a difference between being kind, being kind to oneself and being kind to others. Be kind, but don’t sacrifice YOUr integrity, finances, body, heart or anything else that takes away from your own spirit, or depletes at your own expense or makes you fall behind to lift another.

#3. You don’t have to do anything that doesn’t fill you with joy and happiness. Walk away. Or go to the closet and stay until it’s safe to come out.

#4. People often try forcing their views and "good" intentions upon others. Don’t be like them.

#5. Only really open your door if you want to open your door to the outside world. And be cautious about who you let in.

#6. Listen to your inner voice. And don’t just listen… Follow.

#7. Too many times there is simply nothing that can be done. People you love are sometimes too far away to reach, whether physically or emotionally. Send love. It might not be felt or received, but it creates a bridge that keeps a connect when things out of our control cause a sense of loss or grief or disappointment. No matter what, love.

#8. Feel sorry for others, hurt for others, but it isn’t your job to fix them or to try to change their minds or bend their wills to match your own.

#9. Stand firm in who you are. Don’t be afraid to know who YOU are, to represent who you are every single day. Peer pressure is for cowards (both sides), unafraid to think for themselves and too afraid to venture out into unknown places or open their minds to explore the limitless “what if’s”.

#10. Free your mind from attachments to fear. The worst that could ever happen? In any scenario, the worst has happened somewhere, to someone and they’ve either survived or not. Chains are usually invisible. Everything usually is all right in the end. Breathe.

My mom trained me, along with other people and other organizations that it’s the “right” thing to give and give and give. I’m arguing today, that while it’s noble, it can also be so damaging. It’s not “right” to deplete yourself beyond the breaking point, past the point of “empty”. Too hard to repair damage done. I usually preach about having an open heart, being a good person. But today? I’m thinking in order to be the best at anything we choose to be, it’s vital to protect and take care of the most valuable gift given:  You. Care for your temple – your body, your mind, your heart, your soul.

Tendons, Bones, Alzheimer's, Muscles and Emotions

I have watched Alzheimer’s from a close distance, always pretty fearful of my own lot in life since most of the women in my immediate family have had that cross to bear. And over and over I’ve seen that the disease makes everything stifled rise to the surface; all the fears un-faced and unaddressed, all the traumas shoved under the rugs, all the heartbreak and disappointments that were never properly digested. Maybe that’s why I’m on the mental journey I’m on. Maybe that’s why I long for and search for and strive for that place of enlightenment I know others have found. Selfishly, I don’t want my mind and body to end this life still carrying the scar tissue lodged on a cellular level, waiting for a chance to disengage and bubble up.

There are healers I know of who don’t believe the old school of thought “no pain, no gain”. They have learned how to accept things as they are, gently coax, gently guide and redirect and open up and clear problems inside the physical body, such as adhesions in muscle tissue, stuck fascia tissue, edema, etc.  I admire and believe wholeheartedly in their “way”, their methods. And try to embrace that philosophy when I’m most frustrated with myself and most hard on “getting a grip” in my own life.

Muscles, tendons and bones all become reactionary when life hands out some nasty things, whether it’s due to overuse, under use, strains, sprains, pressure, patterns. When the human body cannot stay relaxed, it tightens itself up in self-defense.  It  guards and protects itself from injury. But too many times, it forgets to relax again because it has learned to expect danger,  The body prepares for what might hurt next; it loses the innocent  trust that outside forces aren’t going to cause damage. So “knots” form in the shoulders, between the shoulder blades, the lower back. Then the body learns how to compensate or use an uneven, unbalanced pattern to accommodate the inflamed, angry parts. And one small problem builds upon another and another until eventually permanent damage can be the result. The therapists I admire most have learned how to speak to and address the discomforts by using a more graceful approach.

Emotions. Muscles.  Muscles. Emotions.

I’ve compared the disease of the brain, the reaction of life against human form, and healing ones heart after loss upon loss. All seem to be a maze of twists and turns and actions and reactions. All show what happens when you keep staying in the same patterns of behavior, when you get used to being off balance but things have a way of rising and making themselves heard and known regardless of any “control” one thinks they might have. All have breaking points where nature simply takes its course. And any small thing can trigger a “flare up”; a familiar face that once caused joy but then caused pain, carrying a purse on the wrong side and causing muscles to scream in pain, a song on the radio that churns up love lost or love destroyed, tripping over a stone and causing one leg to remain guarded while protecting the one whose ankle was twisted five years prior, a date on the calendar that reminds us of tragedy… and unfortunately there are those of us who seem to carry the harsh more than the happy events. Perhaps tied in to what seems “normal”.

Life is for the imperfect. The flawed. And none of us make it out unscathed.  So life for me, has become about reaching. Reaching deep inside to find healing. Reaching beyond and out and through and learning all I can from all the things that speak most clearly to my soul.

Emotions. Muscles. Muscles. Emotions….

 

Swinging From Branches and Hanging Onto Me

Several times throughout life I’ve been filled with childlike wonder; an innocence and quiet knowing that what I’m experiencing is beyond beautiful and is as perfect as life can be on Planet Earth. Those times have spoken and shown me heaven while in human form. I’ve been blanketed by magic and pure joy when I saw the Pacific Ocean for the very first time with my grandmother, every time I saw my children get the giggles, when I felt mountains for the first time, when I rode a horse across the desert in Arizona while staying with a woman who couldn’t speak English but who showed me a kind of love that spoke loudly and clearly, when I held my granddaughter for the first time, when I landed in Maui the first time… the second time… the third, when I swam with my Lomi family in holy waters and spent time praying alone at Kukuipuka Heiau.

Unfortunately, and something I’m desperately wrestling with right now, this flawed world has a way of sometimes tarnishing the luster and taking away or chiseling away what once was so precious and sweet. Thieves have a way of stealing into those moments that I somehow wish I could figure out how to cling to forever. And a heavy cloud of doubt or fear or lack of faith tries diminishing and lessening the innocence.

I’m lost. I honestly can’t find my way back into those holy spaces. I guess I have to just trust and know that they are a part of who I am. They haven’t gone anywhere, even though time and circumstance has whittled away at their initial impact on my life. And I come full circle inside my own head, thinking all those things add up, layer upon layer and provide a quiet foundation of truth. And even though the world tries crowding them out or stealing them away, I’m elevated by them. They are my stepping stones; my building blocks.

So when it feels like an earthquake is trying to knock me off my feet or push me off my course or whip me off balance, the remembrances may be all that is needed to keep carrying me forward. I just need to think back on those times and stop and see and feel their light shining from “what was” into “what is”…..  And no matter what happens tomorrow, whether there is pain or whether there is laughter, I can stand in tact and in touch with a childlike heart.

“So was I once myself a swinger of birches.

And so I dream of going back to be.”

― Robert Frost

WhAt DoEs It TaKe To MaKe Me LoSe My InHiBiTiOnS aNd DANCE????

For as long as I can remember, my mom would remind me whenever I felt like I was walking through “the valley”, whenever I hit a low point in life, that a person “can’t just stay on the mountaintop forever. Think how boring life would be.” She would add a touch of light-heartedness and a big heaping of hope to encourage me to just keep walking. Move one foot in front of the other when life throws you a curve ball and you feel you’ve descended from the heights and the beautiful sights.

She would remind me that things simply don’t remain; the valley, the peek, sorrow, joy, boredom… Ever changing, ever flowing and sometimes quickly moving, sometimes slowly moving through life.

I was reminded awhile ago by a very great friend of mine that some of us have a hard time being patient. Waiting. If I find myself inside of a situation I don’t want to be in, I get restless. I push and shove and try to force myself onward and upward. And I forget to stop, take a deep breath, look around me. I’m finding out the lessons are sometimes screaming at me to be seen and heard, but I’m so busy trying to get back up the mountainside, I miss the most important and often the most beautiful parts of the experience.

I was thinking earlier how life has this way of whittling away at us. One thing happens that causes us to react a certain way or to go a certain direction. Then another thing. Another thing. Sometimes all those layers end up stripping us down or crushing us. Making us feel like there is nothing left to do but to completely surrender and simply “be”; maybe for a few minutes, or a day or months or years.

I have felt the pain of that chipping away. And I’ve felt as the last little pieces have unstuck themselves from my core being. And in the place of all the disappointments, all the struggles, the terrors and the pain, my inhibitions and the things that served as barriers against a world I don’t understand suddenly, momentarily disappear. And I know what it is to dance in a way that takes me back up the slope and into higher ground.

My Maui sisters recognize the process as “ebb and flow”. The coming in and going out of the tide. It can be breathtakingly beautiful, even though the movement might temporarily cause discomfort.

Losing inhibitions.

Dancing….

“Dance, when you're broken open. Dance, if you've torn the bandage off. Dance in the middle of the fighting. Dance in your blood. Dance when you're perfectly free.”

― Rumi