Tuesday, March 5, 2013
BELIEVING IN PEACE IS A CHOICE
I believe peace is possible. I believe we need to make peace with our current circumstances, and that can be challenging, but it is part of radical self-acceptance. We need to have a curious mind that keeps on asking "What can I do to make life within and around me better?"
We can all smile, slow down, breath deeply, and put our attention on our intention. We can offer an encouraging word, make healthier choices in our diet and activities, and stop the negative self-talk before it gets out of hand!
Peace often requires collaboration, deep listening, and a desire to cooperate instead of isolating ourselves by all our judgments and assumptions that may not be true. It helps to remember our core values may be different from those even of other family members, so a willingness to stay in touch and honor our very real differences is vital to peace as well. Wonder, beauty, grace, forgiveness, and gratitude are part of this web of life we call living in peace and harmony. It takes courage to move beyond our own comfort zones, to discern what may be possible, and what might undermine a peaceful process. It is a challenge to be optimistic and honor our very real limitations, too. Most folks do want peace on Earth; we can each do our share by cultivating peace in our daily lives, deleting the many negative messages the media feeds us that violence and aggressive behavior is normal. Peace isn't about ignoring evil and injustice that still cause great suffering. What we cultivate within our own attitudes and actions has much to do with our own state of peace and equanimity, and it is constantly shifting as we face our fears, our doubts, our own areas of vulnerability. I choose to align with those who believe we are making progress, and peace is indeed possible. Our actions make a difference. May you be at peace with your choices in this new day!
Friday, March 1, 2013
DO NOT HOARD WHAT SEEMS GOOD
IN OUR TIMES OF TRANSITION, it is often hard to know where we stand, what to choose. Doubts are part of the journey to firmer ground. Questioning our beliefs is actually very helpful when living with great uncertainty. I just watched the movie DOUBT, and Meryl Streep plays a cold, rigid, highly disciplined nun who has no room for compassion, deep listening to others, or forgiveness in her structured world. Kindness is the last thing in her heart, where so much bitterness dwells that she frightens the children and the other nuns as well. She trusts no one, and has suspicions that undermine all her relationships.
Annie Dillard in The Writing Life has such a contrasting philosophy. "Shoot it. play it, lose it all, right away. Do not hoard what seems good for a later place in the book, or for another book. Give it, give it all, give it now...Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you. You open your safe and find ashes." If faith is an ascension, a climb into beliefs that help us trust life and its underlying goodness, then letting go is a process of descending, dropping our cherished habits, addictions, opinions to be open to the moment, without preconceived ideas how someone or something should be. This takes courage to be at peace with not knowing, with letting answers unfold in their own timing. It doesn't mean we don't care, but it means a surrendering to a deeper knowing than what our experience or our beliefs tell us.
The image above for me is inviting, honoring the calm ocean, the rocky yet lovely shoreline, the feather, a symbol of faith in things unseen as the sun is setting. Each night is a time to enter the Darkness, to rest, let go, and retreat. Each morning is a chance to let our lives count again, one more day, one precious day, even if things don't go as we'd hoped or wanted.
Today I assemble a small gift package for a 97 year old friend who is blind. It includes a jar of split pea soup mix, a dainty cup and saucer she may enjoy, a brightly colored spring-time placemat, placed in a small lavender gift bag from Goodwill. I called her daughter, and she advised no music, no flowery hairpin, nothing requiring much vision---things I enjoy, but would not be appropriate for Hilda. To make a good decision involving someone else, we may need to consult someone who knows the person's interests better than we might. It feels good to give Hilda a gift, not hoarding things she may enjoy, but I don't need now.
Sometimes we reach out with words, or prayer, a phone call or an email. And it's fun to send a gift too, especially when her neighbor is in town here, and can deliver it to her door. Old-fashioned ways of saying "I care, I love you" are still important in our fast-paced world where the elderly who can no longer dial a phone would welcome feeling connected. When we give from our heart, it feels good for both giver and receiver!
Annie Dillard in The Writing Life has such a contrasting philosophy. "Shoot it. play it, lose it all, right away. Do not hoard what seems good for a later place in the book, or for another book. Give it, give it all, give it now...Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you. You open your safe and find ashes." If faith is an ascension, a climb into beliefs that help us trust life and its underlying goodness, then letting go is a process of descending, dropping our cherished habits, addictions, opinions to be open to the moment, without preconceived ideas how someone or something should be. This takes courage to be at peace with not knowing, with letting answers unfold in their own timing. It doesn't mean we don't care, but it means a surrendering to a deeper knowing than what our experience or our beliefs tell us.
The image above for me is inviting, honoring the calm ocean, the rocky yet lovely shoreline, the feather, a symbol of faith in things unseen as the sun is setting. Each night is a time to enter the Darkness, to rest, let go, and retreat. Each morning is a chance to let our lives count again, one more day, one precious day, even if things don't go as we'd hoped or wanted.
Today I assemble a small gift package for a 97 year old friend who is blind. It includes a jar of split pea soup mix, a dainty cup and saucer she may enjoy, a brightly colored spring-time placemat, placed in a small lavender gift bag from Goodwill. I called her daughter, and she advised no music, no flowery hairpin, nothing requiring much vision---things I enjoy, but would not be appropriate for Hilda. To make a good decision involving someone else, we may need to consult someone who knows the person's interests better than we might. It feels good to give Hilda a gift, not hoarding things she may enjoy, but I don't need now.
Sometimes we reach out with words, or prayer, a phone call or an email. And it's fun to send a gift too, especially when her neighbor is in town here, and can deliver it to her door. Old-fashioned ways of saying "I care, I love you" are still important in our fast-paced world where the elderly who can no longer dial a phone would welcome feeling connected. When we give from our heart, it feels good for both giver and receiver!
Sunday, February 24, 2013
OBSERVING AGING CHOICES OF ANCESTORS, MAKING DIFFEENT CHOICES IN MY LIFE
Recalling my maternal grandmother and my own mom, I realize
they indulged in emotional eating to deal with their frustration, anger, sense
of being powerless to control their health choices, or the downhill spiral of
eating too much sugar, white flour, high carbs, with little exercise in their
final decades. The food
appropriate for working on a farm didn’t work well for sedentary aging with
crippled limbs. My Grandma was
overweight and seriously under-nourished.
The medical advice in her time gave her little help to change her
habits. She died refusing to take
her many meds, for she was tired of living with so many medical complications
and feeling she a was burden on her daughter. My mom spent five years in assisted living with
terrible food, then four more years in a nursing home where she was wheelchair
and bed-ridden, a far cry from her very active earlier years. When mom no longer cared about food, I
knew her will to live was failing.
The strokes had been debilitating, progressively taking away her quality
of life.
I too used emotional eating to cover up my depression,
anger, and grief as I faced the end of a twenty-year marriage, the death of the
family we once were. I made
muffins, pizza, granola, and other foods with high calories that were the
comfort foods I grew up with. My
Grandma made delicious raisin-cinnamon rolls when she came to visit. To have energy when we went skiing, we
started the day with glazed doughnuts, then sandwiches for lunch, with candy
bars when our energy sagged by mid-afternoon. Desserts were the highlight of holiday meals, and I didn’t
learn to make homemade soups rich in veggies and chicken stock until well into
my marriage. We ate what was fast,
convenient, and tasty with little regard to the impact of our choices in the
decades to come. We were
physically very active, so I didn’t start gaining excess weight until my early
forties. My siblings are still
slender; they can be much more active than I am because they are healthy, and
have a very different metabolism. They can eat dairy and pastries without
gaining weight, but I cannot.
I also had an
unexpected pregnancy at the age of 42.
I gave my identical twin daughters to new parents in an open adoption,
for I envisioned them healthy, bright, and needing a home life I could not give
them. I was a single parent
without job credentials to secure a decent-paying job to cover basic expenses. I had moved to Ashland the previous
summer when I had neither time nor energy to create a circle of new friends and
begin to make a living as a massage therapist, so my stress level was off the
charts. Mom wanted me to come live
with her, but she lived with a sister who was seriously depressed, and it
wouldn’t have been a good move for my son or me. Healthy eating was a priority for me, but I overate to deal
with all the stressors beyond my control.
Being a single parent requires multi-tasking big time.
My dad’s
mother, Nana to me, had many ailments that gave her abdominal pain, but the
doctors of her day had no answers, for they knew little about nutrition. She was a very disciplined and
contemplative person, traits I have inherited from her. Grandpa was alcoholic,
governed more by his addiction than his passion for living a meaningful life.
Nana had little emotional support in her later years, and her dreams lay
dormant, rarely expressed or realized.
She lived to be ninety-four, and did make a deliberate choice in her
will to bestow her life savings on the generations to come, including $2000 to
each of her great-grandchildren.
This dream she held firm to, telling no one, and it gave a nest egg to
her grandchildren and her great-grandchildren to do with as they chose. It meant a lot of self-sacrifice as
well as discipline to carry out this intention. It had tangible benefits to me,
as well as some savings for our children, thanks to my investing wisely in
their childhood years. It meant I
could afford to be a mostly stay-at-home mom and we lived on my husband’s
income. It also meant I did not
have savings of my own, as my inheritance went into paying our mortgage. I did not foresee a divorce, and the need
to have some financial independence.
My mom was active into her sixties because she was addicted
to amphetamines, giving her a false sense of energy that likely contributed to
her strokes in her 80’s. It wasn’t common knowledge how dangerous these drugs
that gave the user a high were, but mom wanted to keep up with dad, so she
never thought twice, and rarely drank water. Being dehydrated is one cause of strokes, along with
inactivity and poor food choices.
Most of mom’s retirement income from teaching twenty-five years was
spent on assisted living and nursing home costs. End of life in such facilities is a very expensive way to
die!
Choosing
to eat well can be expensive and requires self-discipline and willingness to
take the time to prepare food well.
As my own health began to crumble, I didn’t have someone to support me
in finding new directions or paying for good nutritional advice. It turned out I had osteoporosis,
partly due to the depletion in my body from carrying 15 lb. of babies and not
having appropriate health care after their birth. I did my best to eat well, but was definitely dealing with
depression, financial stress, overwhelm, and weakened adrenals from so many
years of stress. I held inside a
vision that recovery was possible, despite much evidence to the contrary. I came
close to dying, and my son Jeff coming to live with me helped turn that
tide. Today I listen to a tape of
Wayne Dyer’s about imagination.
Imagination is the inner connection to possibilities that our identity
is not defined by others expectations or by our past. Einstein said logic can get you from point A to point B, but
imagination has no limitations.
When John Lennon wrote the song Imagine, he had no idea decades later it
would still be song around the world by folks who share his image that peace is
indeed possible, a world without wars can exist.
I
believe I shall someday lose this unhealthy belly fat and weigh 125 pounds, or
whatever is my healthiest body weight. I’d like to be there within a year, and
am taking steps to make this happen.
Fear of the past when I weighed 82 pounds in the 1990’s has been one
cause of my overeating and obsession with having a full fridge and finishing my
plate, even when I am no longer hungry.
I am wiser now. I am learning
to trust and honor the unique, special, lovable woman I am. I let go the worries, doubts, fears,
and sadness that have burdened my life, making me settle for a very limited
life. This is a process of course,
and I do backslide, but not as often!
Yes,
it takes patience, self-discipline, time for much self-care, and support from
others as well as my own perseverance to change old beliefs and habits that
have undermined my wellness, my moving in the direction of my dream of living
in a healthy body with a sound mind, able to envision and manifest goals
completely unimaginable to the generations before me. I am a writer who yearns to share her journey in poems and
prose in ways that inspire others to believe in themselves. We must first befriend ourselves at a
deep level, before we have what it takes to open to our own power and wisdom,
sharing with others. I am able to
share now on the computer, and with special friends. One dream is writing more consistently, getting it all
organized on the computer so the poetry chapbooks will be ready to publish, and
in time, memoirs and essays will be shared too, with a wider audience. So with this piece, I am moving in the
direction of my dreams, with greater love and much less fear. Another dream is being more
consistent with chi gong, walking, water therapy and other exercise that I
enjoy. The quiet desperation of my ancestors who either died young or old, with
many of their dreams never voiced nor manifested shall not be my destiny. I am choosing a path once more not yet
trodden, and I intend to make a difference that will be helpful to future
generations in my own family, and beyond as well.
Monday, February 18, 2013
WHY DOWNTON ABBEY SO MOVES ME
Matthew
faces his guilt at Livinia’s death, his fears and vulnerability as he recovers
from serious wounds to his body and his psyche. Even when he is able to express his deep love for Mary, a
tender passion they both share after so many trials, he is plagued by fears of
inadequacy, especially whether he can father a child. Mary has a deep faith, and goes to London privately to find
if she may be infertile, has an operation that the doctor tells her will make
conception finally possible. She
has the courage to take action on her own rather than being stuck in Matthew’s
belief he is at fault.
Matthew
has the courage to realize the Abbey has been poorly managed and cannot become
self-sustaining without major changes, but he keeps expressing his concerns in
ways that make his father-in-law feel defensive. As the whole family mourns the
death of Sybil, Matthew chooses to befriend the grieving husband-father, Tom,
who feels out of place because he is a Catholic Irishman, not from noble blood,
and he thinks his only choice is to leave with the baby, seeking his fortune in
his homeland, bereft of the support of this family into which he has married. He welcomes the concern and caring of
Mary and Matthew, who stand by him in his dark hours. As their friendship unfolds, Matthew realizes Tom knows
about farming and the ways and needs of the simple folks who are dependant on
the survival of Downton Abbey.
When the concerns of Mary and her wise Grandmother help Mary’s mother
Cora and her husband realize their daughter Sybil would have died even if the
old family doctor’s advice had been followed, they begin to grieve together,
knowing no one is to blame for this tragedy.
In
the servant’s quarters, Daisy
slowly gathers her courage to consider a life beyond being a servant as her
father-in-law sees her strengths and zeal for life, and offers his inheritance
if she will come manage his estate while he is alive. She begins to envision a better life, and it may even
include a man partner where she shall have the respect she deserves. She is outgrowing being a lifetime
servant and all that implies.
As
this series of the Downton Abbey saga comes to an end, Mary gives birth to a
healthy baby boy. She and Matthew
have a few precious moments celebrating privately this new beginning in their
lives. As Matthew drives away,
exuberant to be a dad with his beloved wife, his life is suddenly ended by a
truck colliding with his car, which overturns and he is thrown to his
death. It’s a sad and startling
ending, and a reminder to us all that life is unpredictable, sometimes very
unfair even when you’ve been noble and courageous in overcoming obstacles. We are left in suspense, not knowing
how the families and the servants will deal with this huge and impactful loss,
so soon after the death of Sybil whom everyone loved and sorely misses. She lives on in her sweet daughter and
her strong-willed husband.
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
TO THRIVE IN PRESENT TIME
TO
THRIVE IN PRESENT TIME
As we grow older, it is common to have dear friends have
serious health issues
Again and yet again, we are reminded of our own mortality.
It helps to be able to grieve with empathy for their losses,
their suffering, and offer a helping hand or caring words.
It helps to use our rational mind to realize how we might
best prevent the same misfortune from impairing the quality of our own life.
Yes, we all know we need more exercise, a better diet, a
social network, friends
Who will
listen and hug us when we are struggling.
The obvious is easy to overlook, too, like the importance of
drinking more water or
Taking
time to rest or meditate when we are tired and distraught.
Growing old has many challenges we may have not faced in
earlier years. So it’s good to have friends who can remind us, in present time,
of our strengths. If we’re in our
final decades, it helps to be honest with close ones about our wishes, should
we become seriously disabled or die.
These conversations provide a reality check for us and for those we
love.
To thrive instead of simply being reactive to life’s
challenges, we do need tools
To uplift our spirits, protect our bodies and minds,
encourage pro-active behavior.
Aging is not for sissies; it does require courage to face
fears, to face loss, to be willing to downsize our expectations when they add
to our stress. Learning new skills
keeps our brains active, and saying yes to better shoes, lots of post-its,
becoming aware of our changing needs, all help us be more likely to thrive not
just survive as we become elders.
The simple rhyming poems I used
to write
Often become a sharing of my inner dialogue, not so tidy
anymore.
We need to be flexible as well as resilient, and then it is
easier to accept and learn from the unexpected in our lives.
Monday, January 21, 2013
Creating Peace: Our Choices Make a Difference
In a culture and a world so often driven by anger, fear, and
greed, when we choose instead to make choices with a gracious, grateful heart,
honoring each of us has conditioning that can bring out the best or the worst
in us, we take steps to create a more just and peaceful world.
It does take
courage, patience, and perseverance even to be peaceful with our own inner
critic. She may be the demanding voice we first heard on our home front or in
school, telling us to “ get busy, don’t cry, listen to your elders” even when
their words are hurtful, still undermining our self-worth into adulthood unless
we learn to realize where these negative messages have come from, and delete
their impact.
We can always
choose to follow a path no one modeled for us. It will take perseverance, willingness to face our own dark
sides, self-acceptance, and finding meaningful ways to be in community with
others seeking a more peaceful lifestyle and learning more effective
communication skills.
It helps to
realize the history of Europe and our country is riddled with times of war,
repression, revolt, and rebellion that continue into present time. When the needs and rights of others are
ignored or silenced, peace isn’t likely. We have a long history of domination
and submission, with struggles that were rarely resolved peacefully.
To be at peace,
we need to first be kind, gentle and forgiving with ourselves before we can
take time to be responsive in a nurturing way to others when their behavior or
words irritate us. Our culture
glorifies important, influential men from our presidents to cool film figures
who solve problems by killing people.
It is quick, sure, and still considered manly. So given such role models, it is no wonder we haven’t taught
our children to value mediation and non-violent communication as effective ways
to resolve tough problems.
Creating peace has to do with respecting one another, honoring differences,
and taking the time to understand and be in another’s shoes; these are not
quick fixes.
We can choose
thoughts that make us feel good, but we all have an inner dialogue of
discomforting thoughts as well. We
can make a choice to question beliefs that give us stress; often they aren’t
necessarily true, or we can choose to believe “this too shall pass.” Discretion
in what channels we allow our minds to focus on can help us feel more at peace,
aware where we do have some power to make a difference. Peace does begin at home, in our own
minds and our personal choices. As
we make peace a priority in our interactions at every level, we model this new
behavior for generations to come.
Friday, January 11, 2013
STILL GRATEFUL AFTER ALL THESE YEARS
The beauty of our first heavy snowfall
Blanketing the hillsides, dusting every tree in sight
A certain softness in the January air as slopes once green
are now white
Memories of skiing with my young sons and husband in rolling
hills
Full of elk
and even buffalo roaming free in the Alberta parkland
Twenty-five
miles due east of Edmonton, our home for fourteen years.
These memories
speak quietly to my aging body.
Storm clouds gather in early September,
Foretelling a colder winter to come after a record hot
summer
Friends once close, suddenly die of mysterious illnesses.
I grieve their passing, wondering why am I still in this
lifetime?
There is so much uncertainty, so much loss, behind and
before me.
It comes with
the territory of aging. I
choose to live fully despite my limitations, some real, some imagined. There are pluses to a slower pace in
this awesome community.
The doe and her fawn dart in the darkness across a city
boulevard
No longer able to dwell on safer ground where houses now
stand. The trees and shrubs and open spaces they counted on are gone. Progress is tough on wild creatures.
White lines and streetlights help me navigate the darkness
when I have cause to venture out.
What shall I do when no longer able to drive? It’s a precious freedom my fading vision no longer takes for
granted. I do my eye exercises
religiously.
The memory of fresh salmon with shitake mushrooms, leeks and
garlic shared with a friend on many a cold, winter’s night, gave comfort and
camaraderie to us both. He has moved away to a warmer climate, to live nearer
family who welcome him.
The memory of skating on a frozen Alberta pond when my sons
were young. The minus 30 degrees
skies were blue, pure and unpolluted, but the sun set by 3:30 p.m. in January.
Memories that speak of life’s pleasures often gone or
infrequent for me now, but God willing, they’ll live on for the youngsters now
raising kids of their own. There
are toddling grandchildren whom I’ll see more often as they are sturdier, and
traveling to Oregon will be easier when they’re old enough to hang out with
Grandma while their parents go exploring, or we all take outings together. It’s no longer fun to travel alone as I
did so readily in my forties.
I wake from a winter’s nap, treasuring memories and
anticipating more good times to come.
Solitude is often my buddy, but I’m still a people person. My heart
still has dreams not yet fulfilled, as I greet the new day, usually still glad
to be alive!
Carol Browning
1/11/2013
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