2/27/10 - To Be Expected

We’re still in CO. My dad has slept about 34 of the last 48 hours. I think it is getting to the point where it just takes so much energy for him to be awake and ambulatory. I know, rationally, that this is to be expected. And I know that this is another step downhill. Dad, mom and Aunt T all tell me that he seems to be doing a bit better today. But every time I talk to him, he’s still gasping for breath. Rationally, I know that this too is to be expected. He has lung cancer, having trouble breathing is definitely to be expected. It’s just pretty brutal to hear.

I was talking to my Aunt T the other day about all of my dad’s sisters coming to visit around Easter and I told her that she should prepare them because how he is now is going to be hard for them to reconcile against the big brother they’ve always known. I know it’s going to be hard for even me to reconcile because it’s been a month since I’ve seen him. He’s always been the robust, outdoorsy kind of guy. He does yard chores because he likes to be outside and working with his hands. He loves to see the effect his effort has on his environment. And he has a profound love and respect for nature. All of these things have always been evident in his physicality. But now, that is dwindling. A little at a time. With his strength, his vitality is also shrinking. So far, that may be the hardest thing for me to see. Watching his sheer physical presence dwindle.

I think, perhaps, that even if he does manage to rally after this jaunt downhill, that the kids and I will head down there soon. I find myself thinking about the time just flying by and then it sinks in that this will by my dad’s last February on earth. And the thought that I’m missing that, that my children are missing that, makes me unbearably sad.

I know I can’t bring my dad the peace he needs, but perhaps I can find some of my own.

Peaceful Temper Tantrum

I have now been sitting here staring at a blank page for more than an hour. It has been one of those totally mellow days where I’m trying to soak in the peace and quiet in an effort to banish the sickness and re-charge my soul. I’ve managed to dispel the usual guilt that accompanies me taking time for myself, which in and of itself is a huge stretch. Basically I just decided to take this week and really give myself permission to do whatever I needed to do at any given time.

Since I’ve gotten my ass handed to me by this plague that was brought home to share, I knew I wouldn’t really make any plans other than just staying home and taking it easy. Which was fine. I had a couple of books I wanted some quality time with and I was looking forward to the opportunity to just watch movies all day long.

And I was well on my way to accomplishing all of these things. But tonight I’m feeling all temper tantrum-y and like I have to justify how I’m spending my week off. All of the guilt and judgment I’ve been shooing away all week rushed back into the room all at once. And that pisses me off. Should I have used the time to clean and organize and get stuff done? Probably. Should I have made some special plans to get together with friends I don’t get to see often enough? Probably. Should I have put more effort into going down to my parents’ house to spend time with them and the kiddos? Probably. But I just flat didn’t want to. I haven’t been feeling good. And I am just tired to the core. I just needed a true break this week to recharge and shift perspective.

My year thus far has been trauma followed by drama followed by catastrophe, rinse and repeat. And it feels like we may be slowly climbing up onto a plateau where we can ride out the rest of 2009 in peace and quiet. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for that and I thought I’d start with my own inner peace and quiet.

Nobel Vision

“We were quite surprised.” – Sr. White House official on President Obama’s being awarded the Nobel Peace Prize.

I must say that I agree. Not to say he doesn’t deserve it. But that I’m surprised he got it at this point in time. I believe Barack Obama to possess incredible potential to do amazing work in this world. I think he has the capacity to bring people together in a way that not many do and he is completely unabashed about leveraging that capacity to work towards international peace and provide a stronger and safer way of life in all of our back yards.

The general consensus seems to be this is the Nobel committee’s way of encouraging him to keep doing the work that needs to be done regardless of his prior experience. Their way, perhaps, of lending him the Nobel pedigree to further embolden him to keep making strides towards realizing his vision. And that I can totally buy. Although I wonder how that makes him feel? That while enough of the world already agrees and supports the work he’s doing to get him nominated for the Nobel in the first place, they also still feel that his qualifications are lacking enough to need to borrow pedigree of any kind.

I guess the most interesting thing is that it appears that Obama’s particular vision is apparently quenching some worldwide need big enough to warrant this kind of recognition. That his vision alone is enough in the world as it is to garner this type of encouragement. Because even though I love the guy, let’s face it, there simply hasn’t been enough time yet for him to achieve much of his vision internationally (or domestically for that matter). So this award is much more of a “you go boy!” type of thing to keep him going down the path he’s laid.

All in all I think it’s a brilliant thing. Brilliant that the world is aware enough that peace is in fact what it needs. Brilliant that they recognize in this man the ability to bring us all closer to that vision. Brilliant that Obama now has one more tool to get the job done.

3/29/09 - Re-Entry

My mom and I stayed up until 1am talking last night. And my body was literally vibrating. From all the energy of the kiddos and being back in the craziness of the “real” world. And every time I tried to go to sleep, my brain went into movie mode and just started sprinting. So I did not sleep very well. But I actually wasn’t that tired this morning and driving back home wasn’t a problem.

The Boy was so sad to leave his Nana and Papa this morning, but also really excited to see his Dad. It was hard to see him struggle with that, especially since I was resisting coming home and it would have been much easier to just stay at my parents’ house for another couple of days. I guess that is one big benefit to having them live in the middle of nowhere.

Coming home was really hard. I tried to ground myself by doing very tangible things like unpacking, getting laundry ready, catching up on email, looking through mail. Just generally settling back in. But by the end of the evening I felt so toxic I was having a hard time breathing. I sat for a bit before trying to go to bed to see if that would help. And I think it centered me enough to be able to fall asleep, which is where I am now heading.

I know that part of the toxicity is my response to my environment and my mind going into drama mode. That my life is about to go upside down and I’m projecting drama and tension in anticipation of that transition. No matter how much peace or clarity I have around the changes that are coming, there is still a great deal of uncertainty surrounding how it is all going to look and pan out.

But fear only exists in the future. I know this to be true. I just have to remember it and allow it to ground me in the present moment. Even though big changes are coming, I have to remember that each of those changes consist of days, which consist of moments. And each moment is a gift.

3/26/09 - Day Four

Today was a bit easier to get through. Although I think I’m getting sick again.

When I was preparing to come here I couldn’t wait to get away from my life. To have space and time to just be. And ever since I got here all I want to do is go home. And not just because I’m uncomfortable and this is hard. I miss my babies something fierce. But I always am exactly where I am supposed to be.

I had an image float across my mind this morning of me as a little kid. I was smiling the most glorious smile and it was surrounded by yellow light that was coming from my heart center. Then the image went into warp fashion and I watched that light get covered by layers and layers of fear, sorrow, anger and self-preservation.

The light is still there – at my center. It’s just been covered up by all of this illusion that I’ve bought into and claimed as my identity.

But at my core is pure, unadulterated joy and peace. That was a pretty cool realization because I’ve been thinking that light went out and I’ve been trying to figure out how to re-ignite it. But really I just have to stop believing in the illusion.

So. Letting go. I think I realized there was a part of me that couldn’t let go of my attachments to people because my mind told me that would mean not loving them anymore. That to let them go would be sending them out of my life. That is so wrong. I think letting go of my attachments simply means that I am free to love them where we are. Not based on my attachment to them. That’s actually really cool and gives me so much more leeway to just love unconditionally instead of needing something from them.

So I become free to love my kids simply because I love them, not because I need them to make me feel like the world’s best mother or that I’m needed above all else.

Without attachments I become free to meet people where I am and love thoroughly.

How cool is all that?!?