The earliest memory I have from this lifetime is from when I was an infant. I was at my mother's parent's house in Wellsboro, laying bundled up in a wooden cradle. Pushing it side to side, gently with his foot, was my Uncle Gerry. The memory is dim, but full of the warmth and security of the family surrounding me. There are soft impressions of wooden walls, the smell of food cooking, and voices around me.
Another early memory I have is one that I spent most of my life believing was my first memory. After talking to my mom about it's details, I think I have determined that this memory must have been a dream. And so, this is the very first dream that I remember from when I was very young. In it, I am lying in bed between my parents, snuggled up in blankets. They are sleeping and I am just waking up. It is night-time. Across the room is a window towards the top of the wall. Through the window I can see the full moon glowing. It is winter. I am happy. This early memory also is filled with the feelings of warmth and security, and also a fascination with the moon, peacefullness, and closeness to family. It is nice to know that my early waking life and my dreamtime were happy and peaceful places to be.
The first nightmare I can remember having is also one of my first memories. I believe I was a toddler when I had this dream. In it, I am walking through a flat and warm pine forest. I come across a candy store, go in, buy some candy, and return to the forest as I eagerly bite into the chocolate bar. As I head home, I see a bear approaching me, blocking my way forward on the path I came in on. Scared, I turn around and walk in the opposite direction. The bear is following me. The path ends at a cliff. I start to climb down the vertical cliff wall, only to discover a bee hive hanging next to me on the rock wall, buzzing with life. The bear above, bees beside, and a long way down beneath me. Luckily, at this point I wake up safe and sound in my bed.
Another vague memory I have from my toddler years happened before either of my brothers were born. For me, this memory marks the end of my only-child status. (Of course, I have equally wonderful memories from the time after the brothers arrived as well.) In this memory, I am walking down the sidewalk in between my parents. We are holding hands and they are swinging me way up in the air in between them as we walk forward. Over and over. It is so much fun. There is this feeling of complete togetherness, pure joy, and a deep love that binds us together. I feel that this is from before I intellectually understood my own separateness and independence as an individual. And so this memory reminds me of the beautiful unity and foundation that I grew from. It may be simple, but it is one of my favorite early memories.
I am lucky really, that the only fear that stands out from my early childhood is from a fleeting dream. I am lucky to have been born into a loving and safe family, where respect, gentleness, fun, and joy were cornerstones of our interactions. I am lucky that I was given this good and healthy foundation. I can only wish that everyone could be so lucky. But, again, I can be thankful that my parents made the choice to choose love, over and over again.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Good Day: Day 21 of 40 Days
Today is a better day. I didn't listen to or read the news. I finished the last book in the Twilight series, my latest method of escapism. The sun was shining, warming the local atmosphere into the lovely high 60's. I went on a long bike-ride with my sunglasses on and without a jacket. The snow is melting, and the river is thus swollen and roaring in it's rush. We were able to dry our laundry outside in the sun and open the windows to let the fresh spring air in.
There is something about breathing in the warm dry air for the first time in spring, after weeks and months of the cold dampness. It feels soooo good. It feels nostalgic, reminiscent of that first spring breath from every year in the past. You can almost taste the springs of the past in the air. And with that nostalgia comes the promise that summer is coming. Longer and warmer days, skin kissed by the sun from being outside as much as possible, fresh local tomatoes, stone fruit, and berries.
The fresh air winding through the pathways in the house moves the stagnancy out, gets me up and moving, and helps me feel good. It helps me feel happy, for no tangible reason other than the scent and taste and feel of the air around me. It helps me feel a renewed sense of positivity, a refocused view of life on what is promising and possible.
These are some of the possibilities that I hope and pray for, that I will myself to believe will become reality:
* That all beings will have a sense of health in their bodies, peace in their minds, healing in their hearts, and love for their own lives, every single day. May all beings be happy.
* That humanity will quickly become more compassionate, helpful, giving, accepting, and proactive...from the grassroots level of being neighborly to the global level of putting down our guns. May we all challenge ourselves to share that which is abundant in our lives with others. And may we challenge ourselves to think and act outside of our own boxes.
* That we people finally start to reverse the devastating impact human life has had on the earth, to ensure that all life may continue on this amazing planet. May we examine our lifestyle choices and find more and more ways to decrease our ecological footprint.
* That the health, education, and happiness of all people of every nation become it's priorities, rather than the greed of power, money, and natural resources. May we all find ways to stand up for the basic rights of all humans.
* That all may come from a place of love rather than fear. May we choose love in every situation and no longer have reasons to fear.
And on a more personal note:
* That every one of my friends and family may find happiness and health in every day. That they may find a way to realize their greatest dreams.
* That Lucas and I will find employment soon, work that is meaningful and fulfilling.
* That all of the mold in our house will disappear as the weather becomes warmer and drier.
* That Lucas' tendonitis and my psoriasis will heal.
* That tomorrow will be a good day too.
(If today you were hoping for a check-in on my List of the Week from last week, I apologize. I didn't do any of it. Zilch. The storm and travel of last week totally threw me off. Ah, well. Part of the practice of the List is forgiving the self when things don't get done. Sometimes it just isn't in the cards.)
There is something about breathing in the warm dry air for the first time in spring, after weeks and months of the cold dampness. It feels soooo good. It feels nostalgic, reminiscent of that first spring breath from every year in the past. You can almost taste the springs of the past in the air. And with that nostalgia comes the promise that summer is coming. Longer and warmer days, skin kissed by the sun from being outside as much as possible, fresh local tomatoes, stone fruit, and berries.
The fresh air winding through the pathways in the house moves the stagnancy out, gets me up and moving, and helps me feel good. It helps me feel happy, for no tangible reason other than the scent and taste and feel of the air around me. It helps me feel a renewed sense of positivity, a refocused view of life on what is promising and possible.
These are some of the possibilities that I hope and pray for, that I will myself to believe will become reality:
* That all beings will have a sense of health in their bodies, peace in their minds, healing in their hearts, and love for their own lives, every single day. May all beings be happy.
* That humanity will quickly become more compassionate, helpful, giving, accepting, and proactive...from the grassroots level of being neighborly to the global level of putting down our guns. May we all challenge ourselves to share that which is abundant in our lives with others. And may we challenge ourselves to think and act outside of our own boxes.
* That we people finally start to reverse the devastating impact human life has had on the earth, to ensure that all life may continue on this amazing planet. May we examine our lifestyle choices and find more and more ways to decrease our ecological footprint.
* That the health, education, and happiness of all people of every nation become it's priorities, rather than the greed of power, money, and natural resources. May we all find ways to stand up for the basic rights of all humans.
* That all may come from a place of love rather than fear. May we choose love in every situation and no longer have reasons to fear.
And on a more personal note:
* That every one of my friends and family may find happiness and health in every day. That they may find a way to realize their greatest dreams.
* That Lucas and I will find employment soon, work that is meaningful and fulfilling.
* That all of the mold in our house will disappear as the weather becomes warmer and drier.
* That Lucas' tendonitis and my psoriasis will heal.
* That tomorrow will be a good day too.
(If today you were hoping for a check-in on my List of the Week from last week, I apologize. I didn't do any of it. Zilch. The storm and travel of last week totally threw me off. Ah, well. Part of the practice of the List is forgiving the self when things don't get done. Sometimes it just isn't in the cards.)
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
The Hope: Day 20 of 40 Days
On the brink of being half-way through this 40 day period of blogging, today I revisited the original intentions I had in this Open House writing project: Opening up more with the people in my life; Pushing myself to move beyond my shy and reserved nature; Creating a challenging opportunity for myself in order to stimulate creativity.
So, in light of keeping these intentions alive in the second half of the project, I am choosing to write today about a topic that is a little sensitive, a topic that holds a lot of weight for me. I was thinking about this while I was working away in the studio today, stimulated by my unfortunate circumstance of listening to the news on NPR.
There is plenty of heavy and intense events going on in the world right now. If I get oversaturated by the news, my thoughts tend to get fearful of the future, and of how uncertain that future is. I worry that there will be continued escalations of conflicts, wars over the earth's resources, budget cuts (i.e. decreased access to health care, good education, social services, free speech, and worker's rights), natural disasters, climate change, over population, etc, etc. AH, sometimes I think that I really shouldn't listen to the news, and rather stay happily blind in my little northwest bubble. Living in fear is not something I want for myself, nor anyone. It doesn't help improve the state of the world.
BUT, when I do get carried away with these thoughts, I am often lead to reconsider having children. Yes, my protective mothering instincts are already strong, before conception. The mama bear in me wonders if I should wait a couple more years to think about having a child, to wait to see if I can be more sure that his or her life will be more clear and easy. I know that this is something we can never know. We can never know what the future of our own lives nor those of our children will hold. There will always be risks, always uncertainties. We can not infinitly and completely protect our children from harm. Yet, I wonder if this is a world I want to bring a child into at all.
(BTW, in no way am I suggesting that I judge others for having children. No. On the contrary, as you will see below, I totally understand the need and desire to procreate. While I don't feel that this earth needs more over-population concerns, I do feel that humanity needs more good-hearted, well-intentioned people to lead the way out of the current mess. The children are the future. They are hope.)
If you have known me for a long time, you will understand how hard and strange it is for me to be questioning bringing a child into the world. I have been obsessed with the idea of being a mother for my entire life, playing "House" since I was old enough to carry around a doll. I have been babysitting since I was 12. I have had children in my life in some capacity ever since: As a childcare provider/nanny, art instructor, day camp counselor, overnight camp counselor, youth group leader, midwife, post-partum doula, orphanage volunteer, auntie, friend.
I have surrounded myself with children, pregnancy, and birth for most of my life as a way to feel closer to my own child-bearing years, and as a means of living vicariously through that of others. Now, with every passing month, as I get closer to menopause and further from my own menarche, I have to acknowledge and accept that I may not even be able to get pregnant if I wanted to. I would be overjoyed to adopt. But, I have always had this biological urge to have a baby of my own. Being pregnant, giving birth, nursing, and nurturing are all part of the scope of womanhood that I want to experience. I want to experience the fullness of my own womanhood.
Now that I finally have a partner to share all of life's joys and fears with...only now do I start to wrestle between wanting to start a new life, and questioning the rightness of the timing of this, from a global perspective. I am sure that if I took a week's break from listening to the news that you would be able to guess who would win this wrestling match. At least in this current round.
In my life, choices of the heart often win over those of the mind. But in this case, I feel stuck in the middle. I do not know what will come, for myself nor for the rest of the world. I accept and surrender and trust and hope.
So, in light of keeping these intentions alive in the second half of the project, I am choosing to write today about a topic that is a little sensitive, a topic that holds a lot of weight for me. I was thinking about this while I was working away in the studio today, stimulated by my unfortunate circumstance of listening to the news on NPR.
There is plenty of heavy and intense events going on in the world right now. If I get oversaturated by the news, my thoughts tend to get fearful of the future, and of how uncertain that future is. I worry that there will be continued escalations of conflicts, wars over the earth's resources, budget cuts (i.e. decreased access to health care, good education, social services, free speech, and worker's rights), natural disasters, climate change, over population, etc, etc. AH, sometimes I think that I really shouldn't listen to the news, and rather stay happily blind in my little northwest bubble. Living in fear is not something I want for myself, nor anyone. It doesn't help improve the state of the world.
BUT, when I do get carried away with these thoughts, I am often lead to reconsider having children. Yes, my protective mothering instincts are already strong, before conception. The mama bear in me wonders if I should wait a couple more years to think about having a child, to wait to see if I can be more sure that his or her life will be more clear and easy. I know that this is something we can never know. We can never know what the future of our own lives nor those of our children will hold. There will always be risks, always uncertainties. We can not infinitly and completely protect our children from harm. Yet, I wonder if this is a world I want to bring a child into at all.
(BTW, in no way am I suggesting that I judge others for having children. No. On the contrary, as you will see below, I totally understand the need and desire to procreate. While I don't feel that this earth needs more over-population concerns, I do feel that humanity needs more good-hearted, well-intentioned people to lead the way out of the current mess. The children are the future. They are hope.)
If you have known me for a long time, you will understand how hard and strange it is for me to be questioning bringing a child into the world. I have been obsessed with the idea of being a mother for my entire life, playing "House" since I was old enough to carry around a doll. I have been babysitting since I was 12. I have had children in my life in some capacity ever since: As a childcare provider/nanny, art instructor, day camp counselor, overnight camp counselor, youth group leader, midwife, post-partum doula, orphanage volunteer, auntie, friend.
I have surrounded myself with children, pregnancy, and birth for most of my life as a way to feel closer to my own child-bearing years, and as a means of living vicariously through that of others. Now, with every passing month, as I get closer to menopause and further from my own menarche, I have to acknowledge and accept that I may not even be able to get pregnant if I wanted to. I would be overjoyed to adopt. But, I have always had this biological urge to have a baby of my own. Being pregnant, giving birth, nursing, and nurturing are all part of the scope of womanhood that I want to experience. I want to experience the fullness of my own womanhood.
Now that I finally have a partner to share all of life's joys and fears with...only now do I start to wrestle between wanting to start a new life, and questioning the rightness of the timing of this, from a global perspective. I am sure that if I took a week's break from listening to the news that you would be able to guess who would win this wrestling match. At least in this current round.
In my life, choices of the heart often win over those of the mind. But in this case, I feel stuck in the middle. I do not know what will come, for myself nor for the rest of the world. I accept and surrender and trust and hope.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Full Circles: Day 19 of 40 Days
Today I am seeing the ironies in my life, seeing how bits of my past are coming full circle in interesting and fun ways. I sense the universe joking with me, as well as giving me reasons to not regret choices I made in the past.
I spent part of the day in Mt. Shasta. The four feet of snow the area received last week was piled up in the middle of the roads and along their edges, towering above the tallest cars and vans.
Though it was sunny and wonderfully warm today, the deep snow was unavoidable. Mt. Shasta, visible for the first time in a week, towered above the city in it's glowing whiteness, soft and expansive.
The irony of this for me? I never thought I would live somewhere with this much winter. In fact, when I left Portland last February, I got rid of all of my winter belongings (snowpants, winter jacket, thick gloves, etc) because I was determined to never live where it snowed ever again. And here I am, immersed in it, literally. Even though there are moments when I can appreciate the snow and it's beauty, like when I look at the mountain or when I am snowshoeing, I am starting to wonder: What have we gotten ourselves into by moving here. Why did we not spend the winter in the tropics????
But, I am soooo happy to report that the weather forecast for this week is calling for temperatures in the high 60's and low 70's!!!!! Yipee! That means that I can expose my pale white skin to the sun! That means that the snow will be gone soon, and with it the evidence that our neighborhood bear was in our yard:
While I was in Mt. Shasta today, I spent 2 hours at the house of the town midwife. In exchange for her providing me with a free space to teach my infant massage class series, I am teaching her to start an IV. She is taking the steps neccessary to achieve the same nationally recognized midwifery certification(CPM) that I did several years ago. She is doing her training through self-study and apprenticeship. I am a part of her self-study, then, teaching her a skill that she needs to know. Joining us today for this mini-class was an RN who was never taught this skill in her training!
It was interesting to have the tables turned on me, to be the one teaching a midwifery skill when I have choosen to walk away from midwifery. But, to be honest, it feels really positive to be able to share this knowledge, to know that my midwifery training can still benefit others, that my midwifery knowledge can still be used. In helping another woman become a skilled midwife, I am happy to have midwifery in my history.
While I revisit an aspect of my midwifery degree, I have also been revisiting my art degree. That feels amazing. It does feel like I am coming full circle with both of these educations. I am finally making my art again, finally and fully re-incorporating art-making into my life. And I am finally able to find a way to use my midwifery education in a way that feels comfortable to me. These are good things. The full-circles I am creating...they carry a sense of wholeness and completion. Yet, they offer me a new point to start from, a new way to bring them to life.
Have you noticed any circles that have come around full in your life lately?
I leave you with this picture from the wedding reception we went to in Portland on Friday. These are my dear friends Erico and Kim, or at least their muppet versions sitting in for them as their real selves are off square-dancing and socializing...
I spent part of the day in Mt. Shasta. The four feet of snow the area received last week was piled up in the middle of the roads and along their edges, towering above the tallest cars and vans.
Though it was sunny and wonderfully warm today, the deep snow was unavoidable. Mt. Shasta, visible for the first time in a week, towered above the city in it's glowing whiteness, soft and expansive.
The irony of this for me? I never thought I would live somewhere with this much winter. In fact, when I left Portland last February, I got rid of all of my winter belongings (snowpants, winter jacket, thick gloves, etc) because I was determined to never live where it snowed ever again. And here I am, immersed in it, literally. Even though there are moments when I can appreciate the snow and it's beauty, like when I look at the mountain or when I am snowshoeing, I am starting to wonder: What have we gotten ourselves into by moving here. Why did we not spend the winter in the tropics????
But, I am soooo happy to report that the weather forecast for this week is calling for temperatures in the high 60's and low 70's!!!!! Yipee! That means that I can expose my pale white skin to the sun! That means that the snow will be gone soon, and with it the evidence that our neighborhood bear was in our yard:
While I was in Mt. Shasta today, I spent 2 hours at the house of the town midwife. In exchange for her providing me with a free space to teach my infant massage class series, I am teaching her to start an IV. She is taking the steps neccessary to achieve the same nationally recognized midwifery certification(CPM) that I did several years ago. She is doing her training through self-study and apprenticeship. I am a part of her self-study, then, teaching her a skill that she needs to know. Joining us today for this mini-class was an RN who was never taught this skill in her training!
It was interesting to have the tables turned on me, to be the one teaching a midwifery skill when I have choosen to walk away from midwifery. But, to be honest, it feels really positive to be able to share this knowledge, to know that my midwifery training can still benefit others, that my midwifery knowledge can still be used. In helping another woman become a skilled midwife, I am happy to have midwifery in my history.
While I revisit an aspect of my midwifery degree, I have also been revisiting my art degree. That feels amazing. It does feel like I am coming full circle with both of these educations. I am finally making my art again, finally and fully re-incorporating art-making into my life. And I am finally able to find a way to use my midwifery education in a way that feels comfortable to me. These are good things. The full-circles I am creating...they carry a sense of wholeness and completion. Yet, they offer me a new point to start from, a new way to bring them to life.
Have you noticed any circles that have come around full in your life lately?
I leave you with this picture from the wedding reception we went to in Portland on Friday. These are my dear friends Erico and Kim, or at least their muppet versions sitting in for them as their real selves are off square-dancing and socializing...
Each Possibility: Day 18 of 40 Days
As with every visit to Portland, this one was a whirlwind of a weekend in the Big City. But, I am just grateful that we were able to get up there at all. The energy I spent sulking all day Thursday seems wasted, though I did not know I would end up in Portland after all. What a surprise to find myself dancing, laughing, eating, and playing with friends. Yes, certainly alive in the mystery. Taking one day at a time and doing what is possible with each day.
In Portland, spring is in full swing. The weekend included one day that happened to be full of sunshine, something that has been rare all winter there. The colors were glowing in a saturated brilliance. There were so many different shades of greens in the ferns, mosses, lichens, grasses, and leaf buds. So many flowers blooming their rainbows and flower blossoms sprinkling from treetops onto the sidewalks and streets. It was beautiful, warm, and balmy. A nice change from the monotone cold winter we have had in Mt. Shasta. (By the way, Mt. Shasta City reportedly got 4 feet of snow during that crazy storm that held up our travel plans. A blizzard indeed!)
My visits to Portland have been filled with lovely moments with my dear friends. I get frustrated though, as there really isn’t enough time to spend with each and every friend on each and every visit. There certainly isn’t enough time to have the one on one interactions that I so cherish. Instead, I need to rotate whose house I stay at and who I spend my time with to even it out over several visits. This visit was no different. I hope that next time, I can stay for longer and have less errands taking me away from my friend time.
We did manage to squeeze in many awesome moments in our quick visit, even in addition to the wedding celebration dance party. Brunch at Megan and Todd’s with 15 of us sharing a delicious meal and warming conversation together. A meeting with my dressmaker, Lindsay, in which creative progress was made and tears were shed (my indication that we had the right dress design figured out!). A break from the stress of errands with Ursala at Belmont Station Biercafe, where I sampled the Bend Cherry Baltic Porter (tasty and sweet), and The Dissident by Deschutes (sweet and sour, made with wild yeast!). Yum! Back to Megan and Todd's for fresh baked cookies and the first phase of wedding ceremony planning. Todd is honoring us by being our Celebrant during our ceremony! Before we left town this afternoon, we grabbed Thai food to-go from Pad Thai Kitchen on Belmont. Our palates were delighted by the pumpkin curry and the green curry.
Swiftly, we are back in Dunsmuir, tired and achey from the long drive home. I will post a few pictures tomorrow and say something more meaningful than I am capable of in this late night state of exhaustion. All I can say now, is that each day really is filled with unlimited possibilities, unique and wonderful. We just need to walk through our days with eyes wide open in order to really see outside our limited view.
In Portland, spring is in full swing. The weekend included one day that happened to be full of sunshine, something that has been rare all winter there. The colors were glowing in a saturated brilliance. There were so many different shades of greens in the ferns, mosses, lichens, grasses, and leaf buds. So many flowers blooming their rainbows and flower blossoms sprinkling from treetops onto the sidewalks and streets. It was beautiful, warm, and balmy. A nice change from the monotone cold winter we have had in Mt. Shasta. (By the way, Mt. Shasta City reportedly got 4 feet of snow during that crazy storm that held up our travel plans. A blizzard indeed!)
My visits to Portland have been filled with lovely moments with my dear friends. I get frustrated though, as there really isn’t enough time to spend with each and every friend on each and every visit. There certainly isn’t enough time to have the one on one interactions that I so cherish. Instead, I need to rotate whose house I stay at and who I spend my time with to even it out over several visits. This visit was no different. I hope that next time, I can stay for longer and have less errands taking me away from my friend time.
We did manage to squeeze in many awesome moments in our quick visit, even in addition to the wedding celebration dance party. Brunch at Megan and Todd’s with 15 of us sharing a delicious meal and warming conversation together. A meeting with my dressmaker, Lindsay, in which creative progress was made and tears were shed (my indication that we had the right dress design figured out!). A break from the stress of errands with Ursala at Belmont Station Biercafe, where I sampled the Bend Cherry Baltic Porter (tasty and sweet), and The Dissident by Deschutes (sweet and sour, made with wild yeast!). Yum! Back to Megan and Todd's for fresh baked cookies and the first phase of wedding ceremony planning. Todd is honoring us by being our Celebrant during our ceremony! Before we left town this afternoon, we grabbed Thai food to-go from Pad Thai Kitchen on Belmont. Our palates were delighted by the pumpkin curry and the green curry.
Swiftly, we are back in Dunsmuir, tired and achey from the long drive home. I will post a few pictures tomorrow and say something more meaningful than I am capable of in this late night state of exhaustion. All I can say now, is that each day really is filled with unlimited possibilities, unique and wonderful. We just need to walk through our days with eyes wide open in order to really see outside our limited view.
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