The Swandive

Help Wanted: dreamcatching

These past few months have been quite an adventure, and as in any good adventure story some losses and hits come along the way. This is most certainly the case in my life right now, the most recent casualty is my job.

I have given myself over completely to the depression/healing process, with hopes of knowing how better to manage in the future, and even more--to LIVE in a different way. This past week, I think I have gotten a glimpse that it actually might be working.

A shift has happened. I am seeing, feeling and hearing things I have not experienced before. Boundaries, limits, desires, and daydreams are starting to creep into my consciousness, slowly ever so slowly, like a curious kitten to her first catnip toy.

Here is where you come in friends, this is what I am in desperate need of your help with.

1. Who do you think I am? What words or ideas come to mind when you think of me? And then,
2. what kind of work do you think I am cut out to do?

Now don't go answering one question without the other. I think that each answer will reveal a bit about me. I am asking for you all to be my mirror, my catcher of dreams. (I know that the dream-catcher is to catch the bad ones and let the good ones pass through, slide down the feather into my dreams, but just go with me here.) I want you to help me think further than outside of whatever box I have for myself or that you have placed me in ie. religious, restaurant junkie, "fat", queer, female, funky, christian, etc. Actually, there is no box. Just possibility. Based on what you know of me, what should be my work in the world?

As many of you know--the basis of this blog really--for a long time I worked in restaurants. Then when life served up to me a huge fork in my road, I suddenly started to (metaphorically) sling bread and wine instead of (literally) slinging hot plates & cold beers. Now, truly, I am just not sure what to do. I am paralyzed with possibility and terrified of just doing the same old same old and not taking this time to explore what I feel like is just lurking around the corner.

I need your help. Help me discern what is next. Be honest--frighteningly so please. If you never respond to another post of mine, I hope that you will respond to this one. If you want to send your thoughts by private message or email, that is fine too. But please do chime in. I think some big thing is coming, and I am hoping you, my friends, will help me see it.

Conversation, to be continued...

What's not wrong?

When you hear your inner voice,

forget it.

Hyoen Sahn

I am in a program based on the book The Chemistry of Joy, by Dr. Henry Emmons. The program is called Resilience Training and it is meant to help me in my journey, intention and desire to somehow learn to live differently with depression. I am thrilled I am in the program, and feel quite hopeful, for the first time perhaps, of what may come. Each week I will have homework, which I hope to post here, and this post is this weeks homework. I have done some reading, and am now to reflect on the question "What's not wrong?"

So, the first example from my reading today I think is a helpful one. It says "Think about having a toothache. When you have a toothache, it's like being enlightened. You know that not having a toothache is a wonderful thing. But when you don't have a toothache, you don't enjoy it."

What's not wrong?

• I just spent the last 5 days or so at a conference (THE conference of the year in my opinion really, look for more reflections on this, soon, on the other blog), with some of the most wonderful people. I was helpful, my role was needed, I loved what I got to do (chauffeur people around and generally be helpful and pleasant), I met some of the most amazing people, and I laughed. There was not one thing wrong about this past weekend. I think I will be drawing on these memories, people, words, images and hugs for a long time to come.

• I am healing well. My body is recovering quite well from surgery. My scars are small and wicked cool. Not having my period--well--its exactly the bliss I thought it would be. WOW. Now there is something that is NOT there. My uterus. And I am not taking it for granted that it is not there. I fully know that it is not there. And I am so grateful.

• My beloved loves me, unconditionally. She is patient and kind, not jealous, conceited or proud. She teaches me much about kindness, grace, joy, and love. This is most certainly what is not wrong.

What else is not wrong? A lot. My list could go on and on. Of course I could continue to worry about what IS wrong, but that has gotten my quite literally no-where for a long time. When something is not going right, we THINK we have to ask why, what has gone wrong. But this is faulty logic, focusing on what is wrong, in my experience, has only fueled the tears, drawn me ever deeper into the swirling madness of trying to figure out something--that perhaps is not able to be figured out, has only intensified my own feelings of lack, anger, mis-trust, mis-understanding, mis-______.

Instead, I am going to pick up the practice of trying to be in touch with what is right. Even if the only thing that I can see and feel that is right is my breath, I will focus on it. Breathing in, and out, just grateful for what is, from one moment until the next, until the anxiety passes, the tears recede, and my fear--quiets and submits to the hush of each ... breath ... in ... and out.

Amen.

in a word or two (dozen)

Surgery went well.

To say that I am grateful for the prayers, doesn't even scratch the surface.

The notes, the stop-bys, the cards, the texts, the prayer, the comments: humbling, overwhelming and beautiful.

Laying low. Tending the wounds.

Paying attention.

Resting and

ready. For whatever comes next.

A gift of words from the corners of my mind, shared here with you, for us, for whatever is coming our way. The ever beautiful Mary Oliver.

Wild Geese by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

from Dream Work by Mary Oliver
published by Atlantic Monthly Press
© Mary Oliver

putting some "good" in goodbye

Been thinking a lot about if I would post this, and if I did, how I would say what I want to say. Finally after trying to be careful and proper and witty and all the shit that I always hope I am when I write--I am just saying it like it is, putting it out there for the world--and me--to see. Here is your warning: this post is about my health, and it will have to do with the fact that I am a woman. Think about it ...(yes, stop and think)...  and stop reading if this might make you squeemish or a jerk. This post is extremely personal and revealing. You have been warned.

Quick recap: Depressed. Seeing a bunch of people to help me get through it. Following lots of advice of said people and that has led me to this next leg of the journey towards wellness. Literally, there is almost nothing I won't do to feel better, and to ensure a whole new way of being better in the future. So, upon recommendation of one of my doctors, and because it is riddled with big-ass fibroids, I am saying goodbye to my uterus at 8:30 am tomorrow, September 15, 2009. Hysterectomy, I say bring it on.

A number of years ago I read a book by Caroline Myss, Anatomy of the Spirit. It was the first time I can remember learning about the connection between physical health and emotional/spiritual health. And now, years later, I think I am finally starting to get how it is all connected for me, and with this surgery--I am letting go, both physically and emotionally to some of my scars and starting over. Here is some of what I would like to say goodbye to. Will you help me say goodbye too?

I am saying goodbye to:

• Periods. Holy shit do I hate them. I know, I can't think of one woman who loves them, but I am telling you, mine are particularly awful. Painful and well, gross. Can't wait to be done with this part of my uterus story.
• As much as I can, I want to say goodbye to my story of the 10 year history of abuse. Done. Letting the pain and hurt, the wondering if I am crazy, and the shame be removed along with my uterus.
• Turning off the tapes of being called slut, whore, easy and promiscuous. I will not allow myself to carry these words with me into the next phase of life--these words that some tried to give me long ago that never felt like mine in the first place. And these words will never be a part of my vocabulary, at all, ever.
• Living outside of my body. I am intentionally trying to tell my body that it is safe, and ok to actually feeeeeeeeeel. I know, sounds ridiculous right? But can you imagine if you lived in a body that kept getting violated and hurt, would you let yourself live in it? Me thinks not. I haven't. Weight gain, depression, high tolerance for stress--all signs and signals that have been trying to reach me for decades. I will begin to listen, and try and coax myself back into my body, my temple, my earthly dwelling place, my home.
• The miscarriage and other pregnancies. Yes--there, I said it. I have had both. I have no children. I will not ever be able to make a baby again, ever. Each pregnancy happened unwillingly. I am not ashamed, nor am I proud, of the choices I have made. But each one is a story that needs to be laid down and let go of.
• Throwing away really cute underpants every month, from the unstoppable blowouts. Cute underpants from now on.
• I will let go of the stories of being fondled as a 6 year old by my babysitter. And,
• by a stranger who locked my only hope for help in a bathroom while he raped me, in a foreign city, in an unfamiliar place, alone, on a rooftop. And
• by a friend. Instead of saying no, I pretended to be asleep. Too afraid to stop it from happening, I just let it happen. And never quite forgave myself for it.

I am allowing myself to be out here, prayed for. I am allowing G-d to do what G-d does--resurrects, heals, restores and works miracles. I believe that G-d can and will do a miraculous thing in me. I believe that in removing pain, and the place my body has remembered the pain, that this body can be healed, and yes, in Jesus name I am asking for it. In allowing myself to say this out loud, perhaps I can finally lay this stuff all down. And I will, with G-d's help. And yours.

Amen.

Top 10: Sick and Tired

*Top 10 things to do when you decide that you are sick and tired of being sick and tired (according to and as trying to do from your bloggy friend, me.):

1. Ask for help. This is key: no matter who you are, or how hard you try, you cannot go it alone.
2. Keep trying. If one remedy doesn't work, keep trying. Just because it works for that other person, does not mean it will work for you.
3. Pray, or talk to the universe, or your source (or whatever language you need here). I am a big fan of prayer, but the key is to give whatever it is over, and KNOW--beyond knowing--you are not meant to walk alone in whatever thing that is weighing you down.
4. Forgiveness. Forgive yourself (for letting it get this bad), forgive others (for whatever part they played; ie complacency, judgment, not enough, etc.). Really--nothing will clear away, until you make it so.
5. Move. Get out of your head and into your body. At least once a day, in whatever way you can. But pay attention and "count" whatever movement you do, and celebrate it.
6. Focus on what you are doing that is working towards the goal of feeling better, **rather that what you aren't or could be doing, or could be doing better. <------- **So unhelpful.
7. Laugh. Look for it, youtube it, seek it out, and give in to it.
8. Look for beauty, expect it, and then say thank you when it shows up.
9. Eat better. Crap in crap out is the rule of thumb. Less expensive is not always less expensive. Real food.
10. No matter how hard, love thy self.

*We teach what we most need to learn, amen?

a backwards way of saying it

I sort of have a rule about blogging about work. For the most part, I do not do it. However today, I was reminded, in a not very specific way, how once again I am so truly blessed to do what I do, and for whom I do it for.

Its been a long few years, working through loving the church tribe that I belong to, and having to leave that tribe--or step outside of it for a while--to be the person I feel called to be. I want my church to want me, I want to be a gift and blessing to my tribe. And perhaps I am now, now that I have had some time to walk away, and given myself time to heal. I hope that can be true.

I have a killer awesome gig, working with people who want to be pastors in the ELCA. (I love my job.) Today my job took me on campus to Luther Seminary. When I walked through the doors, a friend from my episco-tribe was there, at a student table handing out information for (I think) Bread for the World. The place and space in how I met her was what I would consider to be "rough waters" and now, that water is well, under the bridge. When I came through the door, she ran over to me, hugged me like she meant it (wow, I love hugs like that) and absolutly squeeled with delight. She looks happy, radiant actually. She is a lovely and wonderful person.

We stood for not that long, catching up on why and how she is at Luther. Then she asked how I am. My answer went something like this:

I am blessed, like beyond measure actually. Sweetie is wonderful, she is the best thing that has ever happened to me really. I mean you know her, she is amazing. And my work, its good. It is really really good. My work treats me perhaps better than I have ever been treated, better than I deserve--I know that for sure. I am here for work right now, I think I might actually be late for my meeting.

And with that, I said I'd send her a note so we could catch up more, and I was off to my meeting (which I was a little late for). She gave me an amazing gift today, my friend she did. I know--and got to say out loud--more and more every day how great it is that I have a job I love as well as a home for myself, my kitty, my love and my friends. I am ridiculously blessed. And today, this 9th day in Eastertide, I am giving thanks. Its exactly where I am supposed to be right now.

Another season almost over

This is the big MD week - the lead up to and all the commercials for Mothers Day. Normally I am in some state of utter depression and at moments, even hostility about the whole holiday. This year is feeling different. For those of us who have lost our Moms, and the day brings up profound grief, well its not something I have looked forward to. As mentioned in previous posts, this year it also corresponds with the date (closely, not exactly) we found my mother, deceased, May 9, 2005. It also happens to fall on my favorite church holiday, Pentecost, the day of fire and Spirit.

Maybe it is no coincidence this year.

I have been conflicted - to go to church and risk the blending of Gospel, Acts and some weird mixing in of Mothers Day - or skip it.

A few years ago, after a painful separation and break-up, my good friends encouraged me to do a 'ritual' burning of letters and items that belonged to this relationship. One night we gathered on the back parking lot, and built a fire of memories. We said prayers for the person, for me, lit the items, tended to their burning, and watched in silence. I will never forget this gift my friends gave me. I still think of this person, and care for this person deeply. But something in this act allowed me to let it go - let her go.

With Pentecost being associated with fire, the descending of the Holy Spirit and the giving of gifts, I would like to think, believe this may be my year to receive a new gift, of letting go, of healing, of releasing.

On a separate but related note, in thinking about all of this, I have been listening to the "Once" soundtrack again. I am going to see The Swell Season (the Once folks) tonight. One of my favorite moments in the movie is when the girl goes to get some batteries for the walkman to listen to the tape the guy has given her. She's out and about, walking in her slippers, and singing a song. She sings "If You Want Me."

The lyrics go:

Are you really here or am I dreaming
I can’t tell dreams from truth
For it’s been so long since I have seen you
I can hardly remember your face anymore
When I get really lonely and the distance calls its only silence
I think of you smiling with pride in your eyes a lover that sighs

If you want me satisfy me
If you want me satisfy me

Are you really sure that you believe me
When others say I lie
I wonder if you could ever despise me
You know I really try
To be a better one to satisfy you for you’re everything to me
And I do what you ask me
If you let me be free

...

I began to think about this song, and my mom, and our relationship, so strong, haunting, troubled and sad. I hear Marketa's voice and almost always begin to tear. There is just so much there.
I think this is more than this post, and now I need a tissue.
to be continued...

fire! fire!

Its a funny thing, first thing in the morning to see your hair, smoking. You think - hey, I did dry my hair all the way, what is going on?

The beloved curling iron, dead. And its trying to take my hair with it. What a smelly thing to do. Damn iron.

My mom had perfectly, naturally wavey, suave, sassoon, gee-your-hair-smells-terriffic hair. No matter how bad she would torture it, it always looked fabulous. She was always in the height of fashion, and her hair was no exception. Highlights, low-lights, even that whole spray bottle color, what was it called? Something about summer in a bottle. *ugh* That stuff was just plain toxic.

Back a few weeks ago - I mentioned that I once grew out my hair for her for a year. I think I am officially past the awkward stage, and am in full blown growing it out stage. People do it for all sorts of reasons. For me - its about change.

So heres to looking forward, to a new me. Heres to looking back - at a once rebellious and younger me. Spring is in the air, I got a new (to me) motorcycle that will come home this weekend, slowly the body is feeling connected to the earth again, pounds are no measurement of my worth, they are simply things that like money, come and go. Heres to them going - along with my fear. Here is to living to be the daughter Anne would be gleefully, ridiculously cheering "who hoo!" for.

I love you mom. I love you, self. I love you God. Thanks for hanging in there. Amen.

Happy birthday Ma

Ma,

It is the first day of spring, which always means it is also your birthday. I love this day, or at least I used to, maybe I still do, but it sure is harder without you here.

So much has happened since you have been gone, so much. I bring you along with me everywhere I go, but now there are so many new people in my life, people you never got to meet, that its hard. Most people don't know anymore, what happened. Don't know about me, the motherless daughter of Anne, Super-Mom. Anne - missing person. Anne - my best friend. Sure, I have learned how to push through those days, remember, when I used to call you, sobbing, about this life change or that boyfriend/girlfriend problem. I have found friends who can listen to me, and Cassie, wow. She is like a mini-you. I know that whenever my bottom is falling out - I know I can call her. Sometimes, you know she even sounds like you. Its strange really, DNA and genetic makeup of a person, of family.

I am growing my hair out, remember when you paid me a hundred bucks not to cut my hair for a year, I did it, you gave me the hundred bucks, and I blew it on a haircut?! Wow - sometimes I was a real ass of a kid. Will you ever be able to forgive me? Please forgive me.

Anyway, I miss you. I think about you all the time, although its getting harder to remember you, and that hurts, a lot. I know you were never one for big birthday celebrations. But, when I was going through alot of your things when you were first gone, I saw you always saved our cards. So here is my card for you this year. Filled with all of the love and tears and all the hope that spring brings. I love you, Ma. Happy Birthday. 

forgiveness

ephesians 4:32

and be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you.

A story hit the AP today that has jarred me. It’s about Lynn Bauman, the brother of Ward Bauman, the Director at House of Prayer in Collegeville, MN. He is also an author and leader in the subject of Anglican Prayer Beads. He wrote a little book that has shaped and transformed me. Some of you many know, I make prayer beads, and use them as a part of my prayer life and practice. And Lynn, is a registered sex offender.

The article, which I think is very well written, and balanced, is basically about this group, Survivors Network of Those Abused by Priests (SNAP), wanting to “bringing awareness” to his coming to Minnesota, to lead a retreat. And Lynn, trying to work and get on with his life.

I am a survivor of sexual abuse. It happened for a long time, from when I was 6 until 16. It is the part of me and my past that I think has shaped me the most, not for the most obvious reasons.

I went to church camp as a kid. We used to sing the Ephesians 4:32 song. I went to church camp in the years I was still being abused. The idea of forgiveness was one of the first things that I remembered learning as a Christian. So, when my abuser, years and thousands of dollars, and after two court cases and a few months of jail time (yes – a few months), told me he was sorry. And I forgave him. I still forgive him. I have to keep forgiving him.

One day, we found ourselves alone, after some pretty crappy shit with my mom had gone down. He knocked on my door, and asked if he could talk with me. It was then that he apologized, made amends with me, told me that he hoped that he did not “screw up” my life. He told me that I was a smart, strong, capable, amazing young woman who he hurt, and he was sorry for what he had done. He admitted to me (after denying to everyone) what he had done. Still brings tears to my eyes. Some days I am mad that he is forgiven, by me and by God. I get where the SNAP people are coming from, for sure. But ahhhhh, the healing power of forgiveness.

I have written and re-written this post now a bunch of times. Adding and deleting. Maybe I need to do some thinking, prayer and further reflections. Later.

Lord, thank you for the gift of forgiveness. For it truly is in giving that we receive. Be with all of your children who have suffered abuse, from priests and others, give them peace that only you can give. Be also with the offenders, the ones who are working on their illnesses, and the ones who aren’t. Grant them wisdom, courage and strength to turn theirs hearts to love, to what is right and good, to healing, to You, Healer and Redeemer of us all. Amen.

a little (daily) help from my friends

I just subscribed to getting a daily email a few weeks ago. My email box had been the dumping ground of much spam (and other various lists of "spiritual" junk) in the past - I had to unsubscribe to many things for a while. I am now down to just a few. Anyway, the one I get daily now is called verse and voice. It's from Sojourners. If you don't know them, check em', yo. Here is todays voice.

How much longer am I going to think about my hair more often than about things in the world that matter?

- Anne Lamott
from "Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith"

*wink wink and a nod to my great conversation with Sarcastic Lutheran today *

but before I go

It is interesting what I find the most healing and truly transformational in worship. I think that I am much different than many of my episco brothers and sisters.
Oh - of course I love the Eucharist, but it is the confession of sin that sets me free from week to week. I think for many it may seem rote. Most merciful God, we confess that we have sinned against you, blah blah blah.

Nothing could be further from the truth for me. John over at smulospace has started something today, that reminds me of the confessional. He is starting a thread, a world-wide apology. What are you sorry for? Here is what he says.

If I had the opportunity to start over with people who aren't a part of the Christian community, I would begin by saying this: "I'm sorry".

One of the things that has been on my heart for years, is the pain that Christians have caused to others.

Forgiving, and asking forgiveness, are core Christian practices. It's my concern that we don't demonstrate this to the wider world.

So here I am, doing my own version of I am sorry. It's in two parts. First, my own words. Then the one I say in worship in my little ol' Episcopal church on Sunday mornings (and sometimes when it just floats into my head). When you read the second, go a little slower, and say it like you mean it. This is what I sound like in church (woe to those who sit in front of me and have to hear me sound weird.)

1. I am sorry that as Christians we have said we will follow Jesus teachings "Love God and love neighbor" but forgotten the second part, neighbor. You, yes you, the (right/left, gay/straight, poor/rich, democrat/republican, convict, felon, rapist, ugly, fat, skinny, pretty, popular, dork, person that is "other" than me and my little world) neighbor. Forgive us.
2. Most merciful God,
       we confess that we have sinned against you
       in thought, word, and deed,
       by what we have done,
       and by what we have left undone.
       We have not loved you with our whole heart;
       we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves.
       We are truly sorry and we humbly repent.
       For the sake of your Son Jesus Christ,
       have mercy on us and forgive us;
       that we may delight in your will,
       and walk in your ways,
       to the glory of your Name. Amen.

Prayers - an update

So, for those of you who really pray for those who I have asked for prayers for - I am so sorry for not being very good at reporting what has happened.

First, Radar, my sisters doggie, had to be put down. His health faded very very quickly, and you can imagine, this was a very sad time for my sister. And for all who love and who had tried to get help for Radar in his last days.

Second - go read this from Sara about Eliot. Whoo hooo! Rock on - happy happy dance. Arm pump - shake shake shake your super healthy bootie.

Third - Amy is a friend of mine, through my sweetie. She is awesome. She is a beautiful mom of 2, who has a brain tumor thing in her head that is cancerous. I thought I had mentioned it before, but in looking for my prayers about it - they have been in my brain and on my heart - and not here. So - will you add her to your prayer list please? She started radiation/chemo on Jan 16th. The road ahead is tough - so any and all good thoughts her way would be awesome.

And the update on sweeties knee/leg. The diagnosis came in. It is not a super common thing - but at least we know what it is. Its a form of arthritis. And she carries the gene that predisposes someone to get this wierd thing. But - drug regiment has begun, and hopefully soon enough - it will all be a distant memory. Until then - prayers for healing are still totally encouraged.

Thanks prayer warriors. Oh and thank you everyone for the love and prayers and support for me and my bout with depression. My therapist finally called yesterday - wow - and things are starting to move back into middle land - neither up up up or down down down. Amen amen amen.