Walled-in

Shortly after enjoying my Sunday morning routine (sipping freshly brewed coffee while checking my emails, reading the NYT, seeing what three grouchy old men turned up on my senior dating site), all the more slowly as work doesn't beckon, I melted down while driving to, of all places, the yoga studio. A real meltdown like I haven't experienced in a long time. Instead of being grateful and accepting for how kind the Universe is to me, I felt like a prisoner locked away in a cell rather than a free human spirit with a bright, hopeful world surrounding me. The walls of the cell erected by my very own transgressions, resentments and regrets. No wonder I'm alone. I took a glance in the rear-view mirror and saw the flower of youth lost forever. Who would ever love me? Want to make love to me? It's one thing to be fifty-nine and still be with the man who knew me when I was full of bloom and beauty. Why am I even here? I blessed with good physical health... so far. I don't know. It just is. I just am. Here. On earth. I hopes and dreams are withering, drying up, evaporating. I'm getting more philosophical which I think develops as one ages. I am happier for others than for myself. I am happy for my daughters. Their lives and the promise they hold fill my heart with joy. But, my own spark is dying, dying, dying. What's the point? I feel like a failure because I don't see how I'll survive once I stop working. I can't retire successfully. I've made bad choices. My one hope for security, Randy, died. Left me nothing. Then it came to me why it is so important for someone like me to live in the present. I'll surely annihilate myself if I worry about the future and wallow in regrets of the past. I screamed in anger in the car. Why have I closed myself off from love? I started to regain composure when I reminded myself I am sober; how much worse it could be if I weren't. The feelings coming up were worthy of a drink or ten. But, I can't and I won't. So, I have the strength and wisdom to stay sober. That's positive. I try to be in the moment, not straying too far off-center, to keep my heart and mind in balance. I parked my car across the street from the studio. My body still writhing with pent up energy so that I pulled on the hand-brake as far as it would go. As I collected my yoga mat from the trunk, I collected myself, too. I had already made the decision to go to a gentle Yoga 1 class in lieu of the Pilates class when I woke up. Already the Universe was guiding me where I needed to be. When I saw Stella's drum and harmonium on the stage, I felt deep gratitude. Stella's voice is of the spirits. She was the yogi's guest this morning. Making a gentle decision for myself and being blessed with Stella's heavenly voice, I shifted my being -- from utter despair to hope and balance. I felt wall-in by my circumstances -- living in a rented room without freedom to fully be me, alone, hopeless. I still live a one-room existence and I'm still alone but I was cleansed by opening my heart to what is good.

JT & the secret of life

'Just want to share a line from one of James Taylor's songs -- "The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time." It's a sweet and corny but poignant tune that reminds me to be joyful and present wherever I am on my timeline this time around. 'Wish I listened much earlier. But, that's another reminder to be grateful for the moment.
There's more to the song with some beautiful turns of phrase, but I'll leave it right here.

For me, it's the legs...

Back to Nora Ephron. She attributed the loss of her youthful neck to being the unmistakable sign that she was past her prime. I've been lucky in so far as my neck is not wobbling yet. It is home to more spots and moles than it ever has -- the leopard effect -- but the skin is pretty much still intact. My legs are my abomination the reckoning that I am no longer a springtime blossom! I have no desperate need for a turtle neck, no indeed.  I need full leg coverage at all times. No matter that I run half marathons, hike the Sierra Nevada and practice yoga, the skin on my legs has the appearance of crepe paper draped over my skeletal-muscular physiology. Oh, and not to mention, the similarity my shins have taken  to an interstate highway map. Oh, I used to look so good in shorts --or, in the old, old days, a miniskirt -- but these days I wear shorts in the privacy of my own company.  What happened? Is it genetic? Is it sun-damage? Is it a side-effect of being fashionably anorexic in my twenties? Or, is it a combination of all three and the reality of Mother Nature's aging system? It's another nudge to get philosophical and grateful. It's what's on the inside that matters. Hey, my legs may be sagging, but they're still serving me well, whether on a twenty-mile hike at 10,000 feet in Yosemite, walking my doggie friends or supporting me in triangle pose. They work! And, for me, the saving grace is that my daughters have legs that rival mine. They're twenty-something with legs to die for! Long, thin, strong and... young. This is as it should be. I'm closing in on fifty-nine and the law of nature is quite simply applying itself. Oh, I never believed it would happen to me; that I would age. Grace is accepting the truth.

PS-It's the tummy, teeth, arms, and face, too!

Something's missing...

With the passing of the incomparable observer (and most vibrant participant) of modern life, Nora Ephron, it dawned on me something is missing from my posts... sense of humor. I had been drawn to Nora's revealing stories about contemporary life and relationships and about what it's like to be a post-war modern woman. I delighted in her honest look at herself and life's situations in a delivery that was like a breeze of fresh air. When I take to the page, I feel the compulsion to be sober and serious. But, in casual conversation, I can be absolutely funny! I can create poignant metaphors that induce both laughter and nodding agreement. My sense of humor has been absent in these posts. Not taking myself so seriously, being humble, actually, is one of the secret ingredients to a graceful life.

There's no holding back now! As I turn this page to the next, I shall endeavor to share my reflections with a lighter touch. Ah, I feel better already!

Many turns; many surprises

That is, if you actually walk the path. I feel stagnant and grace is not forthcoming from my heart. I do, however, feel grace is in the air. Books, for instance, have been put in front of me that are both inspiring and educational. Jill Bolte Taylor's memoir, about her recovery from stroke is a tribute to the resiliency of the human spirit and the strength of the will. It helped clarify the relationship of the right and left hemispheres of the brain and how brain function is enhanced when they work together. Intelligence is not all left-brain logic, but also a right-brain intuitive energy. To lead a purposeful and rich life, both sides need to engage. Her conclusion goes beyond mere stroke recovery; her final chapters echoed 12-step recovery language. Most folks have challenges which cover a vast spectrum of causes. Jewels such as FEAR is "false expectations appearing real" is just one that comes to mind that can help anyone gripped with fear. The memoir touched a deep part of myself and reinforced a sense of hope. Then, I finally picked up and read Dr. Brian Weiss' Many Lives, Many Masters in which he makes a compelling case for reincarnation. Karmic energy feels real. In my current lifetime, there is concrete evidence of it working. I have been paying a lot for my past indiscretions and sins. And, that is because of the lesson(s) I need to learn in this lifetime (and all my past lives, if reincarnation is a reality). I have stumbled over the same roadblocks time after time: I am afraid to open myself to deep love; I am afraid of speaking my truth; I am afraid to love myself; I am afraid of success. I intimately know the master demon of this life: Daddy. Continuing irrational fear is a manifestation of failing to learn the lesson from the past. It continues to haunt.. until one can overcome it. Randy came into my life to show me love and to give me another opportunity to reconcile my fear of my father. I tried. I didn't make it. At least there was one positive result: I came closer to seeing my fear, I saw it with more clarity and I owned my part. Randy was not easy; he had his own lessons to master. He was relieved of this lifetime abruptly last May. Maybe God took mercy on him as he was perhaps in a lot of spiritual pain. Losing him, though, was part of my Karma. I have loved recklessly. I loved him, but recklessly. I didn't cherish him as I do now. I am in pain. That is another belief that Dr. Weiss found in reincarnation. In human form, man feels pain. In the astral plane, the world in between lives, there is only bliss. That is what Dr. Bolte Taylor felt, by the way, when she lived in her post-stroke right brain. But she hadn't passed on to the other side so recovery was her path. Life is painful; the joyful moments are ephemeral treasures that keep us going. I am not afraid of the transition to the other side, or simply death and nothingness, if that's what it is. I'm not sure. I believe mostly in The Mystery. I sometimes feels I am going to meet Randy again. I felt soul-attachment to him. My title is many turns; many surprises. Yes, I am surprised I am 58 years old without a partner or home. I am struggling but getting by. I am surprised I am sober for 13 years. At one time, I couldn't imagine living without the prospect of a smooth glass of red wine. I am surprised Randy disappeared from Earth and my day-to-day and I am left alone. I need to continue to walk forward on the path of destiny. Standing still I just ruminate and renege on the possibilities lying in the next turn. I must turn my despair into hope; see the glass as half full; rejoice in every moment because therein lies infinity.

May I be a channel of your grace

The prayer attributed to St. Francis is an integral part of my spiritual practice. It begins with the request, "May I be a channel of your peace." In my daily meditation, I recently replaced "peace" with "grace". To me, grace is living with the radiance of God's light energizing every thought, word and deed. Being fallible humans beings, most days we fall miserably short of perfect grace. But, even if grace only becomes one's intention for the day, that day will be much sweeter than if one turned away from the divine light. I have brought the power of intention into my life. Slowly, yet most assuredly, my life is on a better path. Compassion, for others and oneself, is a key component in seeking grace. My days are more serene and awareness of God's omni-presence is palpable. I don't go to church. I don't belong to a particular religion. I don't read religious texts. Yet, I strongly feel the presence of a divine power that fills every space and moment in the universe. Every day one accepts there is a divine wisdom greater than oneself and allows it to empower one's heart, grace can be expected to shine its light on the world. Love, understand, have faith and hope, understand, comfort and love. Tame the ego, for it is the wall that separates the mortal soul from the divine light. Live with good intention and mindfulness every day; grace will flourish.

Life happens..

Without a doubt, there have been bumps. One very big one, in fact. My partner/lover/boy friend/fiance/pain-in-the-butt/can't live without him died suddenly from a heart attack while taking a routine walk after work in May. He was the impetus for this blog. He was THE bump in the road I tried to navigate around. (At least I thought he was most of the time; truly, I am the one usually getting in my own way.) It's been nine months since we last said "I love you" (our last words to each other, thankfully) and since I saw his dead body on a gurney in the emergency room, his ears blue from oxygen deprivation and a medical device stuffed in his mouth. His spirit was already set free. The body was not icy cold yet. I held his hand, stroked his hair, kissed his forehead, rubbed his feet... and sobbed. I didn't know where "we" were going, but the Universe made it's ruling. It's time to call Randy to rejoin the astral plane. He is finally at peace... something often said when someone dies But, it's true for Randy. He held a lot of stress, worry and sadness in his soul. He was not happy. He wished I was the answer, but I was not. That was the friction in our love. Looking back, I know I loved him very much. I could never leave him, although the thought of escape from his smothering need for me often entered my mind. And I miss him. I am good at keeping myself company, but I miss the possibility of our relationship; of our love. I feel robbed of that possibility. He was done with life. I was not done with "us". I still had so much to learn and to be. Relationships give life purpose. They are where we practice becoming our best selves. It's easy to be a singleton. It's lonely but one only has oneself to answer to. In a relationship, one has to learn to balance one's own soul needs with another's. We have many relationships in life, big and small; intimate and casual; family and business. But, the possibility of dancing gracefully within the intimacy of a love relationship brings radiance to living. The truth in my present moment, ironically, is to accept my solitary status, to find my center and love myself as I do others. It is a time for uninterrupted reflection and being. It's good. I accept this moment. The path is smooth from where I stand now but I am open to the possibility of new horizons as it twists and turns... even if there are bumps along the way.