A Sacred Pause

"Give yourself the permission to pause, to create sacred space,  -the space to consciously choose how you want to respond to any situation." Dr. Debra Reble

My oldest daughter finished university just days ago and will graduate in a few short weeks.  She survived two years of mostly online learning and classes and only recently stepped foot into a few live moments of class with her peers and professors.  The graduation will be in person where she will sit in a space with many others that have lived her similar experience, for the first time.  

After talking to her, sharing in her excitement and accomplishments,  thinking of the whirlwind of moments that have led to now, the stark contrast between her university experiences and my own, we realized that one thing remains the same. We were both recounting our feelings about living in the pause, the space between.  On one hand, she feels a sense of relief that the coursework is behind her, while at the same time feeling all the feels about an ending, new beginnings, and the pressure to move on to the next thing, in this case, working and preparing for her new program in the fall even though there hasn't yet been time to celebrate her accomplishments with ceremony. 

I recently did some art journaling and created a deck of action words with related questions to reflect on when the card was pulled.   It was a way of assisting myself in setting daily intentions and carrying out purposeful actions.  One of the words I included was pause.  We don't always think of this word as an action but as in the experience of my daughter, we do have to actively take that moment, that hour, day, week, month, or even sometimes longer to pause. In the natural world,  the best example of a necessary pause is sleep.  We need sleep to physically and mentally be rejuvenated and nourished.  This can't occur without the space that this natural pause creates for us. 

A pause is a temporary disengagement where we are no longer moving toward an end or goal.   We don't get many of these pauses in life unless we create them for ourselves.  Often when we pause or we hear of someone else doing so for a period of time,  we assume that something must be wrong or maybe we feel we aren't enough in the pause without the striving or planning.   This feeling of our own or the fear of the judgment of others can keep us moving further into a future that will take us on our way to somewhere else, meaning we will miss the opportunity to feel what it is to be in this space.  

The pause is there for a reason. It can give you a moment to grieve a loved one,  mark an end to something or the beginning of something else.   The pause allows you to embrace the celebration or joy of the moment. It makes space for laughter and playfulness.  The pause gives us the space often needed between noticing our thoughts and moving into action, between the inhale and the exhale of our breath which can bring so much clarity,  the recognizing of our feelings, and then choosing what we do with them. It can be the way in to feel what is wrong in our bodies, what is important in our relationships, our likes and dislikes, our growth and regressions, our longings, and our regret.  Without the pause, we just have behavior with no awareness. 

If I asked you to pause and take that moment to just exist, clearing the table of the mind, temporarily wiping away the attachments, fears, and ambition, would you sit like a stone or flitter frantically about? Would your mind stay clear or flood with a thousand shoulds? Could you stay in celebration of you, of the moment, of where you are now or would you reach for the ledge that would pull you to the next floor of the building? Would you feel like exclaiming, what's next, is this it, did I make it, fix it, break it?  Could you surrender the angst for your own praise and approval of you here and now, for the hug of a loved one or the remembrance of being enough?  

For my daughter, and anyone finding themselves in the space between, I hope you continue a practice of preparing for and living a life that honors the sacred pause, one where you are allowed to catch your breath, change directions, relish a moment,  an accomplishment and just take up space. I hope you can follow the lightness of your being and make choices and decisions that reflect who you are, how you feel,  and what you need in every pause and space with confidence and ease.  

For every person who feels themselves leaning into their future, may you stop as long as you need, to make room for truly living the life that is here in the now in this most sacred pause. 

Anchors

What anchors you?  Is it your routine, a practice, a person, family, community, nature,  music, movement, or spirituality? Perhaps it is all or none of these.  Maybe you haven't found your anchors yet.  Anchors have been traditionally used to moor a ship to provide stability in a storm so the ship doesn't get tossed off course or further out to sea.  Our anchors can make the difference between thriving and surviving, feeling supported or disconnected, grounded or untethered, rested or restless.   In the moment, we may not always be aware of their function of holding us firmly planted on the ground.

The Wizard of Oz has been a favorite story of mine.  There have been many interpretations of this story over the years from political analogies to spiritual inspiration.  What if the Wizard of Oz, through the character Dorothy, is a story about finding what anchors us and how we can use these anchors, as Dorothy did to come back to her center of ease.  We can use anchors to maneuver our way through all the storms of our lives and to gain the resolve to feel grounded and at home where we are as the storms continue to ebb and flow.

If you’re not familiar with the story of The Wizard of Oz it is about a young girl named Dorothy, from Kansas,who along with her dog Toto, gets displaced from home in a storm. They are without family, connection, and support, and have forgotten how to navigate life's discord.   Dorothy is told to follow the yellow brick road to see the Wizard who would help her find her way.  On route to Oz, she encounters a Lion, A Tinman, and Scarecrow. They all decide to accompany her to see the Wizard. The Lion hopes to receive courage from the Wizard, the Tinman a heart, and the Scarecrow a brain.   When they finally meet the Wizard, he says they must retrieve the broom of the Wicked Witch of the West before he would grant their wishes.   After doing so, they return to Oz and the Wizard makes certificates and awards for the Lion, Tinman, and Scarecrow, to prove they have had their wishes fulfilled.  He gives Dorothy a pair of Ruby Slippers which represent her own anchor and explains that they will help her get back to Kansas.  Glinda the Good Witch, who is also part of the story and the one who assisted in retrieving the broom of the evil witch, tells Dorothy that she could get back home all along, she just had to believe. In other words, she had to come back to what anchors her.

Dorothy could be me; she could be you; she could be anyone who gets swept up in the inevitable storms of life over and over again. Dorothy, like us, just wants to stay grounded and rooted and find her way back to a stable center,  which home and Kansas mean for her.  She really wants to be at ease with herself and her people but she gets thrown off course by the storm that arises. Sometimes even more than one storm may be brewing at a time, as with Dorothy, when she not only has to find her way home but also has to engage in conflict with the Wicked Witch.  Like we all may feel at times,  Dorothy feels disempowered and unsure of her ability to meet her needs herself and how to disengage from the storms around her and not be swept up in the chaos.   Dorothy’s interactions with others, caught in their own storms, further confirm for her that she needs to continue pursuing support outside of herself, as we often do. She brings along the others, the Tinman, Scarecrow, and the Lion, who represent her own untethered heart, mind, and spirit. She follows the critics or well-intentioned guides and tries to gain their support. Dorothy follows the yellow brick road, pursues the broom of the wicked witch, and journeys to Oz to receive his wisdom and magic, being pulled into more storms along the way.

This is where Dorothy finds the truth and affirmation that we may be seeking in our own lives. Dorothy realizes,  that the yellow brick road is just a linear, progressive path set by others' timelines that have not shared her lived experiences or ours.   She sees that her own heart, mind, and spirit experience is where she needs to stay rooted.  After seeking advice from others, who were considered to have all the answers, she understands that regardless of their good intentions, it was her practice, her people, and her experience that would bring her home.   The Ruby Slippers she receives represent the anchor that brings a  moment of clarity and remembering that can lead her to a place of balance in the storm.    I love Dorothy and all she represents. I love that she shows us our path is not linear,  our experiences are our own, we are never alone, and that we have many anchors within and around us to provide both grace and stability through the moments of imbalance in our lives. 

 When you are being hard on yourself for getting off course or being swept up by the latest storm, let Dorothy remind you that it is all a practice and that you are the guide, light and anchor keeping you coming back to yourself and navigating the storms of life.

The Planter of Seeds

There is an uplifting quote by Morgan Harper Nichols, "I will continue to sow seeds even in uncertainty," 

 Last week  I finally planted the seeds I had received from the seed exchange at the local library. Along with our usual vegetable garden, we are hoping to start a flower bed with the seeds we acquired.  A few of the seeds we planted, we have never done so before so we have been waiting in anticipation to see the first signs of them.  This week our sunflower seeds showed their first sprouts which was no surprise as they are always the hardiest of seeds and seem to be prolific when they begin. They remind me of the resilience and growth of children.  The marigolds were next to show above the soil with much spindlier shoots. Marigolds are much more delicate in the beginning and you have to be careful not to overwater. They need more time to absorb and take root like many changes we all undertake. The wildflowers have required a bit more care with a plastic bag to seal in the moisture and a much sunnier spot to begin.  They have yet to show any sign of life. These seeds require more patience and perhaps faith. Milkweed and Calendula are showing a hint of something but that may just be a bit optimistic at this point. If the milkweed gets a start it can spread quickly and be monumental which is what most of us hope with the seeds we plant.  Seeing hints of new life this week and still waiting for others brought me back to Morgan's quote and the idea of uncertainty always being a constant. It is one of the only things in life we can be truly certain of.  We are not able to know for sure if any of the seeds we plant will bring life, hope, joy, understanding, friendship, change, love, forgiveness, or reconciliation. Regardless of this reality, it feels like such a beautiful way to imagine our lived experience as "the planters of seeds". 

I imagine how difficult it often is to begin to plant both physical and metaphorical seeds.  The seeds I had were with me for quite some time and it was just thinking of the time and effort it would take to get everything I would need to plant just a few seeds and just to begin. Sometimes we just don't recognize the value in this.  We also have to think about the best way to do so, the condition of the soil, the right pot, how deep in the soil to embed, and how many seeds. Of course, we also have to nurture the seeds when they are in the soil, and figure out how much water, sun, and the best location for their needs. Waiting for results and outcomes while not being able to control them.  We also wonder how many will take root, rot, what will they look like, and how many will make it to the next phase. There is a bit of resignation in trusting the process, knowing that you may not see results when you like or ever. There are many things we sow seeds for that don't come up for another year or two. Yet still, we see the process of sowing seeds as hope-filled. Maybe because of the promise it brings that new life is always available and that we can play a part in it as the planter. 

In our local school district, we have begun to play the  Wolastoq song which is an honors song sung by our First Nations Educator, Sarah Francis. In the video, Sarah is shown singing on Ekpahak island where she feels the presence of her ancestors.  She builds a fire to warm her drum to help produce its beautiful sound and does a ceremonial smudge.  On Wednesdays each week it replaces the playing of the National Anthem, a small seed but a seed nonetheless.  I anticipate the playing of this song and watching the beauty of the Wolastoq river with Sarah playing her soulful drum but not more than the sweet kindergarteners in my class.  I have witnessed the budding and flourishing of this seed each week and I only wish everyone had the privilege to.  They stand as they do to show respect and watch intently. The first few times with wide eyes and uncertainty and very quickly this changed to humming and handholding for a few while I caught the eye of the educational assistant in the class for affirmation of what we were witnessing.   This past Wednesday, there was handholding, swaying, and singing both the Wolastoqey words, although incorrectly, and belting out the English translated lyric, " Wolastoq is flowing, flowing and growing, down to the sea.  Mother carry me. A child I will always be".  I can't describe the feeling of warmth and bittersweet joy in the room while witnessing young children singing this song and the seeds begin to take root.

The act of planting or sowing seeds in uncertainty seems so prevalent now as seeds of peace are sown in the face of war.  This month as well as we step up our efforts to spotlight Mother Earth and her needs for our nurturance and nourishing seeds of care and concern, it is a good reminder that sowing seeds is often challenging. There are difficult conversations that need to be had to plant a seed.  There are many circumstances and barriers that can wreak havoc with our efforts but when we realize the importance of continuing to plant even when you find yourself doing so in places that others don't want to, we can take comfort in knowing that as a  "planter of seeds" you are preparing the soil, the foundation and possibly growing the fruit for the future to harvest and maybe in this we are living a meaningful, joyful,   and loving life, one seed at a time.

Benevolence

 

It is early April 2009, I find myself in a gymnasium at a local middle school wearing a superhero shirt and cape with a seven and nine-year-old in tow. There are groups of people, families of adults with children, and organizers scattered throughout the large area. I find my way to the perimeter of the room, hoping to go unnoticed. I observe the energy as they prepare to organize everyone to participate in a SuperHero walk through the downtown streets of our small city in recognition of Autism awareness or acceptance, whatever the buzz term of the moment was.  There were many thoughts going through my head at the time but I can remember one being as a neurotypical female, I was sure I had no idea what it was like to be neurodiverse on the spectrum and I couldn't imagine that all neurodiverse people on the spectrum were feeling the same way about their individual challenges, experiences and ways of navigating a world that was not set up for difference, so I was quite sure that this scenario was not playing out to be one I was feeling comfortable being a part of.  However, at this moment, I also witnessed a room full of kind individuals who were believing in the good of their actions and because of this, I  felt I needed to be appreciative, in the name of kindness.  I rationalized that I was a very newly appointed member of a club I hadn't ever imagined myself a part of so everyone else must know what they are doing.  Despite my best efforts to ignore my gut feeling,  I still felt off and awkward. I was unsure of the Superhero paraphernalia and what it had to do with Autism.  My daughter had never expressed an interest in superheroes, Dora the explorer maybe but I wasn't thinking she qualified at the time.  Questions arose in the moment for me too, like was being aware that neurodiversity exists in the form of autism really something to be moved by, or was needing to promote accepting neurodiverse people or any other marginalized group, not part of some larger systematic, societal issue that was more than my autistic daughter and our family could shoulder the burden of? The walk was raising money in support of the local Autism center so why was I still unsure about participating?  What I really wanted at that moment was to know the perspective of an autistic adult. Did they not just want to be seen, heard, represented, appreciated, and celebrated? Not cured, tolerated, or pathologized? However, the room was devoid of any.    The only adults in the room seemed very pleased with themselves and their kind efforts.  The children, mostly boys, were happy to be wearing their costumes as well. It was very clear that there were many who didn't share my perspective and I was alright with that. There are many reasons for that and I respected all of them for honoring what was best for them.   I only share all of this experience with you because it was one of the first times I questioned whether kindness is always kind.

I think being kind can exist without true acceptance and understanding.   Can we not still be kind and be dehumanizing and othering someone at the same time?   When we assume what is best for another and offer this as kindness, when we infantilize someone by talking to them as a child when they are an adult with a disability, when we make decisions, without consult or knowledge, about what someone in our care wants to eat, watch,  or participate in as an act of kindness, is it really kind?  When we talk about what is best for them to another adult in the room when they too are standing right there, is it kind?  If we invade their space or boundaries with loving gestures but no consent, is it still kind?  I have found myself in this position many times where gestures or actions, gifts, advice, and celebrations have all been offered under the veil of kindness.  I have learned a lot over the years about my own behavior in this way as well because I wanted to you and had to and I am sure I will continue to.  I have made peace with not knowing what is best for another human being. I think it is also fair to say that we are all coming to kindness with our own definitions, biases, and experiences. Often we offer kindness from our rational mind perspective as the right thing to do and then maybe it becomes nice instead of kind.   We can probably all remember a time when we became defensive, righteous, or hurt when our kindnesses were not received as such. I probably couldn't count the number of times I faced my own bruised ego with the words, " I was just being kind".   Perhaps this is because we mistake our kindness as universal. Maybe the group in the gymnasium that day was just a group of neurotypical people projecting what they thought was best for a group of individuals who were not yet old enough or maybe didn't have the skills yet to articulate what would be best for them.  Maybe we need to learn to accept that we don't always know and be ok with that.    I believe that instead of kindness, what we needed to be offering that day and every day is benevolence. With benevolence, we are motivated by genuine care, respect, and concern for humanity and we have compassion for everyone's humanness. Because of this we stop pretending to know what is kind and we ask and we listen and we ask again and we reckon with our own egos and feelings that tell us a different story of people being unappreciative, sensitive, or difficult. Let's think about offering benevolence to every living breathing human and then maybe we can acknowledge that kindness isn't always kind.

She Sees

Perhaps this is my attempt at poetry or prose.  Maybe it is a lot of thoughts after reading, "Face" by Justine Bateman and listening to a  podcast interviewing  Ashton Applewhite on Ageism but since April is National Poetry Month and the home of Earth Day, this is where I begin. 

Let's remove the filters from our lives and expose our hard one faces. Let's not diminish our worth based on the preservation of our bodies but use our minds to share the wisdom it has gathered to have the conversations, write the poems and stories that give true representation of growing older, and let us not  erase ourselves from our own culture.  The world deserves to see you at every stage of life, to know that you are thriving and that growing old should not be feared but revered and celebrated. Let's take our cues from nature, and flow with effortless ease into what has the potential to be the most majestic phase of our life.

She Sees  by  CMH

 She whispers the word aging just loud enough to be embraced by the wind and carried off through the treetops

 Who take it to mean wisdom, majesty, and grace

As it filters back to her she hears fear, shame, decaying, and death 

She swallows the aftertaste, bitter and real

Where have the crones, the sages, the wise women gone

Our elders commanding the respect of nature; the oceans, rivers, mountains, and forests

Standing now amongst creation, our natural world

She is reminded of the receding river banks

The sand dune's slow transformation

The changing forms of the creatures of the land and sea

The forests that house the most remarkable of trees that bow to the grace of the most aged 

She sees so much beauty that comes through time

What she witnesses is the ease with which  it happens

No efforts made to prolong or extinguish the process

Nature just seems to know everything is growing more magnificent in its fullest of life

 In the grandeur of age

Is she too not a part of this cycle of life

When she sees her reflection coming back from the water below

She witnesses the quiet freedom in her own eyes to be authentically who she is in this time and space

She sees all those she has loved and supported with her soft crinkly, welcoming eyes

The sparkle and zest for life that penetrates the intimate gaze of another 

And lights the path for the strong women she has raised

She sees the smile lined and creased in the way you know it was used often to share compassion, joy, and community with so many

She sees the face that has been drawn to the light, the warmth emanating from the sun, the beauty of nature

The wind continues to whisper now but this time she hears

Zoom in, get close, look deep

This is where beauty meets age

Where wisdom tells her story

 And gratitude arises for this privilege to be here

Now

This is what living a real and vulnerable life

 Full of experiences, on the edge of fearlessness, courage, and strength lives.