To the Ones Who Can

It's Gratitude Sunday, when I look for a new gratitude.  This morning's gratitude started with yesterday's unsolvable dilemma.  A call for money from an addict prompted another round of "is she really in recovery this time? ... or is she just trying to score money again?"  It prompted a call to my blog sister Louise who works in a homeless shelter in Canada.  She, of course, could not answer the question but she did offer empathy and insight.  It made me realize how grateful I am to the people who offer care and shelter to the bewildered, bedeviled and lost souls who live among us. 

The Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD) reports that 1.6 million people spent at least one night in an emergency shelter in 2009.  And, the National Health Care for the Homeless Council estimates between 750,000 and 2 million men and women ages 18 to 24 experience some form of homelessness every year in the U.S.  It's a multi-faceted and hugely difficult problem.  The success stories Louise tells in her blog at Recover Your Joy are inspiring and encouraging but I'm sure for every success story, there are many heart breaking ones of people who never find their way back.  Louise is one of the many unsung heroes who work in this challenging field.  I am grateful to all of them who offer compassion, a warm bed, a hot meal, job and life training and hope for a better way of being in the world to all of those mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, daughters and sons who have become lost in the world of homelessness and addition.

I am also grateful for Alcoholics Anonymous (AA), an amazing, self-organizing, free recovery program that has offered help to millions of people around the world.  For the past several months I've watched a young friend turn her life around with the help of the AA program and the generous support of sponsors and other AAers who have learned how to live sober in a world that often seems deliriously drunk and out of control.  Without AA (and it's related NA, GA, OA), the level of homelessness could be even higher than it is.

There are people in the world who have the empathy, compassion, skills and patience to deal with the most difficult problems facing the homeless, the nearly homeless, the alcoholics, drug addicts and mentally challenged.  This morning they have my extreme gratitude.

There are also people in the world who hit bottom (at whatever level) and have the strength, courage and determination to reach out for help and then accept it with humility and honesty.  They also have my gratitude for each in their own way has made our world a better place.

Living My Fantasy

For the past four months I've enjoyed a life-long fantasy of living on a lake.  While it wasn't quite my exact fantasy of being able to walk out my back door and jump off the end of the dock, it was pretty darn close.  A very short walk and I was at the boat slip where my kayak was waiting for me.  And my longer walks wound through tall pines and mountain "cabins" (even the multi-million dollar places are called cabins).  Fantasies, however, never include mosquitoes, crowds or v-boats.  Reality does.

A friend of mine has an incredible outdoor living space, complete with Bali bed and a dining area that invites long, slow Sunday mornings with fruit salad and the New York Times.  It has become one of my fantasies.  When I found a place in the foothills with six different outdoor living areas, that fantasy roared to life.  Now I'm half-way into the reality of it and a wonderful reality it is.  Last night I sat on the porch looking at the milky way with no city or neighborhood lights detracting from the show.   And this morning, I sit on my front porch writing this.  However, my body aches from the last several days of moving and the pod I see in front of me is a hulking reminder of the work still to be done. And, when that is done, there are flowers to be watered and someone planted two trees that will eventually obstruct the view so they need to be moved.

Fantasies are almost always static things ... air-brushed, two-dimensional moments in time that we frame and look at when where we are is too messy or uncomfortable.  Fantasies are powerful things.  They call to us and give us the energy we need to change and explore.  But, expecting a fantasy to be perfection leads us into an endless chase since there are always those pesky mosquitoes.  Better far to see the perfection in mosquitoes ... and what a challenge that can be!

Bottomline note to self:  fantasies are not reality -- there are always trade-offs.  The grass may look greener on the other side but once we're there, the greener grass is suddenly still on the other side.  Stop where you are and savor the grass beneath your feet ... whether it be green or California "gold."




About the image:  Seduced by Spring.  This is one of the series of photographs I shot that convinced me that I had to move back to the Sierra foothills.

What Can I Create Today?

Diane at Contemplative Photography reminds us of Robert Fritz's question and makes me stop to find an answer on this "window" day.  Today is the divider between two states.  Yesterday, my life was in transition, living in a vacation cabin, stuff scattered about in storage pods.  Tomorrow I will start the moving process into my new home, a place where I intend to stay for a long time, a place where all my pieces can come back together again. 

Today is a blank canvas, mine to spend as I wish, pristine with possibility.  So I sit here writing in the cool morning, Missy sighing beside me after gathering all the sniffs and sounds of our walk, birds calling their selves into the day.  I wonder what I can create today and my mind turns to projects ... writing, mosaic, collage or the new business invitation that arrived yesterday.  But, something else nibbles at the edges with a silent but perceptible push in a different direction.  I begin to feel a quiet that travels down my body, through my arms, onto this note.  Peace.  What I can create today is peace and I can let it expand like a bubble all around me.  I breathe and it expands.  I get hooked on the idea of expansion and try to grow the bubble.  It doesn't grow.  I try to push it bigger.  It doesn't push.  I relax and just breathe and it expands and takes in the whole house.  I try to consciously expand it further and it collapses back to a small bubble around my body.

I get it.  Peace is not something I can create.  The I that is conscious cannot control it.  Sitting, breathing, I can feel it in my body,  can feel it expand out a little bit, know that it could expand out further, but know that I can't control or direct it.  So maybe the question for today is not "What can I create?" but "What can I allow to be?"  What can only come into being when I am open, quiet and receptive?  A question with no answer and I am returned to Rilke's admonition to "Live the questions."

"I want to beg you, as much as I can, dear friend, to be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books written in a very foreign tongue.  Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you, because you would not be able to live them.  And the point is, to live everything.  Live the questions now.  Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer."  
 -- Rainer Maria Rilke

Remembering Where We Came From

It's Gratitude Sunday ... and also the 4th of July.  Seems like the two go together.  I've always been grateful to live in this country and feel like the taxes I pay are the best money I spend even if some of it goes for things I wish it didn't.  However, Gratitude Sunday is supposed to be about *new* gratitudes so I had to look a little deeper to find the gratitude that I haven't thought about or expressed.

It came as I was walking this morning and realized how grateful I should be ... and am ... for the four people who many long  years ago risked everything for a dream.  I'm not sure who they were, when they came or exactly where they came from.  I don't know if they came as couples or single people taking their chances in a new land.  I am relatively sure I know pieces of their stories ... a hard crossing of a vast ocean, little money, little education, little to depend upon once they reached this land except their wits and faith in the opportunity.

I don't know if they came before or after The Statue of Liberty was in place (1886) but it is likely that some of them entered through Ellis Island and may have seen her welcoming presence and read her comforting words:

Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!

I hope some of them at least read those words as they headed out into unknown futures that would weave together to create, among many, the new life that is me.  I am grateful for their risk-taking.  I am grateful for my country that has shown as a beacon to the world's tired and poor.  May we remember our beginnings in all that we do.

A special thank you to Louise at Recover Your Joy, a Canadian who writes very beautifully about our national birthday.

Happy 4th of July to all ... and may it bring peace to our hearts.

Soul Food Recommendations

 I spent 25 years in Santa Barbara and one of my favorite sights was the long line of brown pelicans skimming gracefully just above the water.  I loved watching that elegant, seemingly effortless flight and it was easy to feel my way into that gently undulating column.  What I seldom thought about as I watched that low gliding motion was the fish swimming beneath the surface.  The pelicans were looking for breakfast.  I never really even contemplated what it must be like to be the fish ... the target of that predatory flight.  And, I definitely never felt my way into the consciousness of the fish ... they were just invisible.

In the past 50-some-odd hours of driving to Tulsa and back, I've listened to three books on tape, an activity that is almost like time-travel since the stories carried me through the hours almost in a fugue state, autonomic half on the road while my consciousness explored other realms.  Of the three books, one was good, one was excellent, and one was an unforgettable experience. 

The first was Fever Dream, the latest in the on-going series by Douglas Preston & Lincoln Child.  An adventure mystery featuring the brilliantly quirky Aloysius Pendergast who discovers that the tragic mauling of his wife by a rogue lion in Africa was actually murder.  This series is always entertaining and the reading with the Louisiana accents is very good.

The second was the last in the Stieg Larsson series, The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest.  This excellent book was bitter-sweet because the author died before the series was published so we will no longer hear the voice of this master storyteller and no longer tag along on the unique journey of Lisbeth Salander.  His books have sold over 20 million copies and in 2008, four years after his death, he was the second best selling author.  A passionate fighter against racism and right-wing extremism, Larsson will continue to be missed.  The readers in this series are very good so I highly recommend the book in either written or audio format.

The last book was truly incredible. Kathryn Stockett's The Help, is a book I avoided buying for quite some time, dismissing it as "just another book about the civil rights movement," a subject I thought I'd already read enough about.  This book is like the story of the pelican and the fish.  Set in Mississippi in the early 60s, it is the story of black maids and the white women they work for.  It's a story of a time and culture that is aware of the pelicans but has no consciousness of the fish or the interdependent cycle of life between the two.  It is a gripping story of fear and love, ignorance and wisdom, cruelty and grace, tears and laughter and a time, not so long ago, just as change was bubbling over in a way that would transform everything. 

It was amazing to remember that less than 50 years ago, if a woman in that culture married a professional man, she was expected to fill her time with volunteering and bridge and have a maid take care of her house and her children.  This dynamic created a field of intimacy that sometimes took root in a powerful, lasting love and sometimes spawned a confused and cruelly hostile and fearful environment.  This book expertly and gently balances both sides of this continuum.

While I would highly recommend reading this book, I think listening to it is an experience not to be missed.  The reading is exceptional.

About the image:  I was passing through a hotel restaurant when I saw this image.  It amazed me with its "stop when you're satisfied" message.  My awareness jar asks me if I could have stopped in the midst of this beauty.  Thank you to the person who left this lesson for me.

Stories from the Journey -- An Invitation

There is a book brewing ... and you're invited to participate.  There are several threads weaving themselves together to form this possibility:

1.  Amazon.com has created CreateSpace.com, a self-publishing platform that allows books to go straight into the amazon.com pool of books and creates a marketing base.  It is a very well-priced option even with full-color images so we could have art work as well as stories, poems, quotes and other text.

2.  Diane from Contemplative Photography and I started talking about self-publishing a book about our journeys.  The only problem is that Diane is layering graduate school on top of an already busy schedule.  She doesn't have time to do a full book ... but she might have time to do a chapter.

3.  I keep meeting fascinating women artists/writers of a certain age who are on a spiritual journey and find that hearing their stories makes my heart sing.  I want more.  I have time and would be willing to mid-wife the project.

4.  Using a blog would allow us to gather material, find and invite others and gradually grow into a book.

So, what could this be?  A compilation that each of us could have for ourselves, friends and family.  A book that might appeal to and be helpful to other women on the journey.  Perhaps even an echo of "Chicken Soup for the Soul."

Who's Invited:

• Women of a certain age (50?) who are doing some form of art as part of their process of connecting to spirit.
• Women who are willing to tell their stories and have time to write a 500-word story about their journey every two weeks, accompanied by images or poetry whenever possible.  (I will post this onto the blog under your name.)

How to Participate:

• Send an email to me:  jwycoff@me.com.
• Write a short bio that will be part of each of your blog posts.  It can include links to your own blog or website.
• I will send you a list of questions to stimulate your thinking ... but mainly we want your stories.  Please no lectures ... just what's happened to you along the way and what you've learned.
• Write your first story and send it to me with images or other attachments.  That will start the process and then a story-post every other week will be the ideal schedule.  I think it will take about 10 posts to make a chapter so you might want to start thinking about the stories that most define your journey.

Feel free to invite other women who fit the criteria.  The worst that could happen is that we have more than one book.

Reflections on Intentions

Earlier this year, I wrote an intention as the beginning of an experiment to learn more about intentions.  I wanted to see if there were more powerful methods for crafting and bringing intentions to life. 

My intention statement was quite specific, involving moving to California, living in a wonderful house with lovely outdoor living space surrounded by big trees and a view of the ocean, being with my soulmate and working to help people create their own spiritual realities and being part of the consciousness that "tips" the world into a new state of being.

Results (so far):  Since I didn't know for sure where I wanted to live in California, I was determined to wait for an invitation.  It came in the form of a completely unexpected invitation to work on a video project about an exciting new high school. It made the decision to move back to the Sierra foothills a very easy one ... and one that feels absolutely right.  I expected to rent until I could afford to buy so I was delightfully surprised to be told I could afford a modest place with really "lovely outdoor living space surrounded by big trees."  No ocean view but a right nice one of the mountains.  No soul mate on the horizon but one of my best friends decided a move was called for in her life so she will be sharing my home.  No new work but a lot more clarity about what kind of "work" I want to do.

So what have I learned about intentions?  There's power in specificity ... but there's wisdom in openness.  In many ways, my results do not look like my vision but it feels like where I am is better than where I thought I wanted to be.  After living with and thinking about intentions for the past six months, I'm not sure I'm smart enough to know what I truly want.  The Universe seems so much smarter than I am.  Sometimes, it's only after something has arrived, something that I truly couldn't have foreseen, that I realize that it was what I wanted all along.

So now I wonder if it would be smarter to try to intend "states of being" and let the Universe figure out the details.  Perhaps intentions should be more of a partnership agreement with the Universe.  We could intend to be happy, healthy and harmonious and let the Universe work out the details of how that state is achieved.

With that in mind, I start the second phase of my intention experiment. Here are some of my intentions for the rest of the year:

I intend to be creative every day and to make art abundantly.
I intend to dream and be given the capacity to make those dreams come true.
I intend to be delightfully surprised every day by the beauty, abundance and magic of the Universe.
I intend to connect deeply and have inspiring, transforming conversations with my tribe.
I intend to know how deeply I am seen and appreciated by my companions on the journey.
I intend to be invited into new, exciting adventures that open up new worlds of possibilities and connect me to fascinating fellow travelers.
I intend to be vibrantly healthy and energetic.
I intend to stay on the aurora-shimmering Life Boat and unlock the mysteries of the Universe and my self with my new abalone key.
I intend to allow the abundance of the Universe to fill my spirit, my life and my bank account.

Let there be wonderful surprises beyond anything that I can possibly contemplate.

About the image:  Aurora's Guardian.  My friend Emily Meek is an incredible painter and an advanced "dream tender."  We spent the last few days together and, building on the process of tending one of her dreams, we found our art merging together, mine building off of hers and then hers building off of mine.  It was an amazing experience.