A Moment of Peace

Sometimes moments of pure peace overwhelm me and it is impossible not to take notice. Such was the feeling driving the 280 some miles from one side of the state of Washington to the other. We spent the week-end with my parents and were driving across the middle of the state. The weather was perfect and I could see the Cascade Mountains in the far distance. We crossed the great Columbia River and continued our journey from flat plateaus and plains to snow and ice covering the forests of Snoqualmie Pass. I relished the feeling of “all is right with the world”…in that moment. My parents have both had challenging health issues the last few months but at this time they were both doing well. We had a wonderful time visiting, laughing, doing a few chores and sharing a bond that is decades long. We gathered, as we have for many, many years, around the dinner table with my sister and her family, sharing one more meal that my mother had prepared. In addition, my two daughters are both well. Linea is working, playing and planning her upcoming trip to India. Jordan is busy with work, her “almost five-year old” son (my precious grandson!) and preparing for the birth of our first grand-daughter in May. Jordan's husband and Linea’s boyfriend are fine, just fine. Their father and my husband was beside me and I was grateful. In this moment those closest to me were not in a health crisis. They had the ability and opportunity to make decisions about their own lives and were planning for the future. I know how quickly things can change. I hold these moments so dear because I have experienced and remember the fear, pain and sadness that is also a part of life but is often unexpected and overwhelming. I treasure these small pockets of joy and peace and not only savor each one but store them away as precious commodities, to be pulled out and remembered when times aren’t as simple.

June 29, 2010: What WERE we thinking?

I wrote this almost two years ago, June 29, 2010. I am fascinated reading this now, one week before the release of our book, Perfect Chaos (St. Martin's Press, 2012). It all still holds true!

One day after Linea's graduation we received an offer from a major book publisher for our book. WOW!! We were and still are ecstatic! First came the news from our agent that the editor wanted to talk to us. Two working days later we received an offer from the publisher and after a couple of days of back and forth with our agent we accepted it. We were both completely excited and the whole thing seemed impossibly surreal. The book proposal went into submission the week of June 1st and we received the offer the next week. Our agent told us the speed of this was quite unbelievable particularly in this current market but we attribute it to her ability to push us further and further with a better, more concise and compelling proposal. The excitement continues but the first night (very late into the night, actually) it hit me. This is the real thing. Our book will be published. In stores and on bookshelves across the nation and perhaps beyond. What WERE we thinking? Suddenly I was insecure. The "what if's" flew like bats into my bedroom and into my worrying mind. What if we had bad reviews? What would a negative comment do to my daughter? What if my colleagues thought I was not "academic" enough by sharing a very personal memoir of a devastating illness? I hadn't had such small (what about the cover??) and long-range (what will my grandchildren think about this twenty years from now?) worries since I the births of my two daughters. Around and around my mind went until finally it settled on trust in our work, our agent, our editor and the world at large. We are committed to sharing our story with continued efforts to increasing understanding and support for people with mental illnesses and their families and to reduce the stigma surrounding mental illness that adds another layer of pain to these illnesses. What a journey!

I Love Second Graders

“Did you know that Ms. Barr is going to CANCEL recess? What if that were true? How would you feel? What emotions would you have?” My graduate student asked this of four second grade students in a special education classroom. They may all have learning disabilities and struggle with reading and writing but there is nothing wrong with their critical thinking skills. They said they would feel emotions like:

Mad.

Sad.

Annoyed.

Happy. “I could stay inside.” (On those rainy days that might be nice!)

Disgraced. “Yes, I would feel disgraced if I had to stay in every single day,” said Bao.

Embarrassed. “Why would you feel embarrassed?” asked the teacher. “I would feel embarrassed because we would be the ONLY school around that didn’t get recess!” answered Lillie.

Cancelled recess wasn’t true of course, but it was a writing prompt to which each child could personally relate. They wrote a letter to Ms. Barr telling her how they felt about it and why they felt that way. The children struggled to sound out the words, working hard to put their own thoughts down on paper and to share how they felt with another person. This is writing!

Such a fun day I had. I love winter quarter when I have practicum students out in schools and I have the opportunity to visit, watch, listen, laugh and learn. One small boy with significant bouncing and rocking issues chanted, “Think. Think. Think. Think,” in time to his movements as he sounded out unknown words. I am going to try this technique next time I have a difficult writing task.

Thank you for sharing your day with me!

What WERE we thinking?

One day after Linea's graduation we received an offer from a major book publisher for our book. WOW!! We were and still are ecstatic! First came the news from our agent that the editor wanted to talk to us. Two working days later we received an offer from the publisher and after a couple of days of back and forth with our agent we accepted it. We were both completely excited and the whole thing seemed impossibly surreal. The book proposal went into submission the week of June 1st and we received the offer the next week. Our agent told us the speed of this was quite unbelievable particularly in this current market but we attribute it to her ability to push us further and further with a better, more concise and compelling proposal. The excitement continues but the first night (very late into the night, actually) it hit me. This is the real thing. Our book will be published. In stores and on bookshelves across the nation and perhaps beyond. What WERE we thinking? Suddenly I was insecure. The "what if's" flew like bats into my bedroom and into my worrying mind. What if we had bad reviews? What would a negative comment do to my daughter? What if my colleagues thought I was not "academic" enough by sharing a very personal memoir of a devastating illness? I hadn't had such small (what about the cover??) and long-range (what will my grandchildren think about this twenty years from now?) worries since I the births of my two daughters. Around and around my mind went until finally it settled on trust in our work, our agent, our editor and the world at large. We are committed to sharing our story with continued efforts to increasing understanding and support for people with mental illnesses and their families and to reduce the stigma surrounding mental illness that adds another layer of pain to these illnesses. What a journey!

Dearest Daughter, A Love Letter on Your Graduation

As we approach your graduation week-end I think about all the love letters we have written each other over the years. You have written me letters from joy and pain, excitement and anguish. I have written you love letters during both the happiest and the darkest times.  How proud we were when you graduated from high school and soon left Seattle for Chicago, a scholarship in hand and a goal to complete a degree in music performance! Yes, there was fear and long, anxious talks with plenty of tears while you struggled to decide where to continue your musical studies. Depression crept around the edges of your life and sometimes moved in to flatten you but mostly you held it at bay. Once you decided on Chicago there was no stopping you. Your dad and I were astounded at your success your first year in your program. I had many opportunities to watch you perform and navigate your college, the city and your life. I felt so much pride in your independence!

The second year of college your life and ours was torn apart by an insidious and unexpected disease. It was not in "the plan", was it? After the pain of almost losing you, the fear of "what's next?" and the gradual acceptance and partnership with this new way of life, you have moved forward, taking us with you. Life changed for you and for us as you eventually changed majors and universities and continued to pile up classes in the arts, philosophy, literature, poetry, and wrote and wrote and wrote some more. Can you believe that throughout all of this we wrote a book together? You opened your heart and soul to me and soon, to the world. I learned so much writing with you. You have taught me to push outside of my comfort zone, to question my thinking, and to trust your brilliance, maturity, and wisdom.

But here is the point of my love letter. Yes, plan for your future but don't miss a single moment of today. You are truly special. You are unleashing your power on the world. Relish each moment. You are surrounded by love. Not only Mama and Popi but your fierce-loving sister and little Thomas, who's worship-love for you will only grow over the years. The two grown boys have your back and would do anything for you. We will never leave you. Yes, you are surrounded by love. You have done more in your life already than most people your age and there is so much more to come. Oh, my youngest baby, I have told you this so many times and if I could give you any gift it would be: Trust the Universe. There is a plan for you and you need do nothing but stay authentic, honest, brave and open. Love, the Mama
    Relish each and every moment in time.....

Empowerment!

Self-determination is incredibly important for the success of children and adolescents with or without disabilities as they move into adult life. I like this defination, "the ability to identify and achieve goals based on a foundation of knowing and valuing oneself" (Field & Hoffman). I teach my graduate students the importance of self-determination but these last few months I have been thinking about the next step beyond self-determination: empowerment and advocacy skills. These skills can be used to change inequalities, stigma and misconceptions about disabilities but also can be extremely positive for the individual. I have watched this occur over the last four years with my daughter Linea. From my perspective, the first part of her journey was to accept and acknowlege her diagnosis of bipolar disorder with a few steps forward and some backwards as she learned to manage a chronic illness. She has written about this journey in her blog. Eventually and sometimes simultaneously, she began to know and value herself in this new reality. She moved toward identifying and achieving her goals which included a strong commitment toward social justice. The memories of the inequalities we witnessed in the mental health system strongly influenced her. It has been amazing to watch her find her voice and to use her power. As she joins a large and national movement to eliminate the stigma of mental illness and assure understanding, support and resources for others she has become confident and powerful yet has maintained her humility and kindness. (Check out her post as a writer on the BringChange2Mind blog.)

The National Empowerment Center actually conducted research on the definition of empowerment in the mental health world. It includes 15 qualities of empowerment. An example of just 5 of the 15 include: 1. decision making power, 2. access to information, 3. feeling part of a group, 4. changing others' perceptions of one's competency and capacity to act, and 5. change that is never ending and self-initiated. Linea demonstrates all 15 of the qualities defined in this research. I am not sure how she moved from the initial diagnosis to empowerment. It is certainly a developmental process and support, resources, opportunities and her own temperaments and brillliance likely figure into this. Although not everyone has these opportunities I do believe we should ensure that all of our young people (and others) have the opportunity to be not only self-determined but empowered within their own lives and in their communities. This occurs through small, individual changes with a big impact on the world at large!

There's a Crack in Everything

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in
(Leonard Cohen, Anthem)

This post is dedicated to every single young person diagnosed with a mental health condition. I love the video that some kids created just "walking around in the muddy springtime filming dirt and generally looking goofy". I just love the creativeness and wisdom and general "goofiness" of youth. Please take a minute and listen to the words of Cohen's Anthem and watch the video produced by "Mahiwi".

The light came in with thunder and lightening and all things scary when my daughter was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. I have written about diagnosis before with suggestions for families and friends. One step removed from my personal experiences. Diagnosis is always tricky with any illness. The frightening part of it is the "wait and see". With bipolar disorder it is unnerving in many ways. Wait for a mania that can spin you out of control. Then wait for another one. Wait for a deep dark depression that can send you into a suicidal loop from which you cannot return on your own. Wait and see, wait and see. Try these meds, no these, no these. Whoops, these didn't work so well. Must not be just depression. And then there are all the feelings a parent goes through with the stages of grief from denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. Like the "poles" of bipolar these can come on top of one another or in completely unpredictable sequences. My own story coupled with Linea's provided me with first hand experience of these steps.

Denial. Hell, no, this is not bipolar! (whoops, was that anger?) No, we had seen nothing of mania. Yes, a severe, severe, depresson. No mania. Let it not be bipolar. That is a horrible "label". Read the papers. Crazy people have this diagnosis. This CANNOT be.

Anger. For me this took on the, "It's not fair" persona. This daughter didn't deserve this. She had done nothing to deserve this. Her life was going forward as she had planned and she had worked so very hard to get there. NOT FAIR. I know this is a western way of thinking. More than half of the world thinks the opposite. When something good happens they wonder, "Why me?" But still. Not on my watch. Oh yes, and there was that one time I yelled at my husband, Linea's dad. "I am doing the best I can!!!"

Bargaining. I really got into this one. I actually said, many, many times: PLEASE God or whomever, PLEASE give this to me. I can deal with it. She is only 19 years old. I can just go away somewhere and fight the good fight and win or lose but not her. PLEASE give it to me.

Depression. I will go see a therapist with you, daughter. I personally do not need this because I am a professional. I know this stuff. Whoops. Inside of me was a sad, broken little girl who was so very frightened and so unsure of what to do. I was supposed to be the mom. I knew things yet I couldn't fix it.

Acceptance. The crack let the light in. This illness has cracked open a deeper love and honesty in our family that we could have ever expected. We were a close family before but things have changed. Deepened. Strengthened. We are stronger. Broken pipes? Unexpected bills? Disappointments? Sorry, we have stood toe to toe with much worse. We almost lost our daughter. More than once. We are grateful. We are appreciative. We love deeper and stronger and although we certainly forget at times, we appreciate every minute of health and happiness.

I was going to write a blog on the diagnosis of bipolar disorder in adolescents and young adults. My thoughts took me in a different direction. I hope that you are not disappointed and that somehow this touches you. Thank you for reading. I love you Linea! Thank you for letting the light in. (You, too, Jordan of my heart!)

A Trail of Love

If you read my daughter's blog you know that we have lost a wonderful man from our lives. Most significantly he is missing from the lives of his three sons and his beautiful and talented wife. As well, by one degree of separation, a 3-month old baby left his family behind yesterday without warning or understanding. Death is a gentle and sometimes harsh tap on the shoulder reminding us to savor each minute, each moment of joy with our families and friends. It is a reminder not to fumble through life without paying attention. This morning as I was rushing to leave my house for campus I stopped and noticed a beautiful morning. I was thankful that I could see so much of this incredible world from my own front door. I know that there are millions and millions of people who will never see the sight of these magnificent cedars that grow on our property. I looked up and around and I remembered a life that has left us but leaves a trail of love and family behind as he moves on into the next space. I hope you can view the video and that you take a moment to sigh and be thankful for a moment in your life. Yes, I know I shot it sideways but who knows from what angle someone might be looking down upon us?

A Great Good Place

Wouldn't you want to be in a community space that is full of people from every background, and from nations around the world? With people that are healthy and not so healthy, abled and disabled, with varied interests and talents and with a conglomeration of people outside of your normal safe place in the world? I suppose there are people in the world that don't want this but I do. There are a few places that meet this expectation and we happen to have one close at hand.

There is "friendly community shopping center" located in what is considered the "Eastside" of the Seattle area. This part of the region is known primarily for the wealth of its residents including one former CEO of a quite well-known software company. Nestled a few miles from Microsoft's campus is this amazing place called Crossroads. It was founded by Ron Sher, referred to as the Suburban Soul Man by Seattle Metropolitan Magazine. I wish for more such places. Crossroads sits 3 miles from the very high end shopping center that houses Neiman Marcus, Jimmy Choo, Louise Vuitton (if you don't know who these people are, good for you!), etc. etc. but in a very different neighborhood. The neighborhood has many languages, people with low or no income and multi-family housing living next door to middle class and upper middle class single family homes, all close to Crossroads. Sher, a committed environmentalist with a Ph.D. in agricultural economics of all things, was inspired by the notion of a "Great Good Place". The commitment behind Sher's work was the notion of a gathering place that welcomed "all comers from the prosperous to those with little or nothing to spend". I love this place. On any night of the week I want to stand up and cheer at the mix of people gathered in this great good place.

This is indeed a place of diversity. Yes, there are many people from a variety of cultures from around the world. There are also groups of young and older adults with developmental disabilities sitting with each other or BETTER YET with all kinds of people, playing games, laughing, talking, eating. There are great-grandmama's and papa's gathered together with friends or with family members. There are college students on their laptops tapping away or conversing with their equally focused friends. There are awkward middle-schoolers, too young to drive but finding a place on the bus route (and acceptable to their parents as a hang-out) and able to eat a meal together for less than six dollars. There are wheelchairs and walkers scattered amongst the crowd for various types of people. There is frequently a man buzzing around in his electric wheelchair, well known to the merchants and the "regulars". He is very physically and cognitively disabled and has great difficulty talking but he is completely comfortable in this community without an assistant or "aide" to follow him around. He watches the giant chess game for awhile, orders Mexican food which is prepared and brought to him in a way that he can eat it. He browses the bookstore, has an ice cream and ends up at the coffee shop.

The satellite library is always completely full, with computers available for all sizes and shapes of people. Recently I watched as a story hour unfolded with tiny toddlers gathered around. The story was in Chinese. Children of every background huddled together on the floor as the exuberant leader read in such a way that it didn't matter if you were one of the 3-year-olds that didn't speak Chinese. There is much to do. There is a second hand bookstore (oh yes!), retail shops and a mini-city hall with translators and answers to questions about public health, energy assistance and health insurance. There is funding and volunteers from Microsoft and United Way assisting with tax preparation for families in need and mostly lots and lots of fun. There is a stage with open mike nights, nights with tiny children playing violins bigger than themselves, bands and mini orchestras and nightly music from cultures around the world. The elderly put aside their walkers and lean on each other in a slow two-step. The children jump and chase and keep time with the flashing lights in their shoes. The two young adults with intellectual disabilities exchange a shy kiss as they push each other around the dance floor. Languages from around the world mingle with the smells from the food court. Indian, Thai, Greek, Mexican, Russian, Japanese, Chinese, Korean, and more. I can have tika masala, bubble tea, pho and a baklava for dessert. All prepared by people for whom this food is their own and who are making a new life in another country far from their home. Everything is recycled. If it is busy the customers clean up after themselves. We share tables. We recognize the specialness of this great good place. Where is yours?

Karma and Impossible Things

One definition of karma is an action or deed which causes an entire cycle of cause and effect. Serendipity is good luck in making fortunate and unexpected discoveries. We have had a combination of both in the last few years and in our journey to meet our agent. My daughter and I have written a book together and are working to get it published. Before I tell you the fascinating tale of our agent, let me wax on (literary term) about writing for a bit. I know that there must be hundreds and hundreds of books that have been written but never published, laying around in drawers, on old floppy disks (remember those?) and on hard drives. But never published. Never read by an agent. Never sent to a publisher. It is hard, hard work to move a good idea or a burning need to write onto paper, day in and day out, writing, writing, writing. It is equally hard to find an agent by presenting a well-written proposal only to turn around and re-write the proposal again and again until it is ready to go out to a publisher. The majority of new authors or academic authors write in their time between (paid) work and family. I think it is alot easier to let a good idea or a somewhat completed book languish in the recesses of a dark hole somewhere than do all the hard work to get something published. The good news is that we signed with an agent October 1st in New York City. It was amazing and more than exciting. We spent a full year of work preparing all that was requested for this next step in the process of publishing a book. Now for the karma/serendipity part of the story.

We flew out to New York to meet with our agent with anticipation and a strange feeling of coming full circle. New York was a place of great hope for Linea. She first went there as a high school senior, singing with a college ensemble at an international jazz festival. While in Chicago majoring in music performance her goals were centered in New York. There were many actions in the next few years causing an entire cycle of cause and effect. She became ill and was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. She took a medical leave from school and was hospitalized. She returned to school and was hospitalized again. She fought and struggled and somehow was able to stay upright while trying to manage this new and insidious illness. Linea transferred universities and will graduate this year with a degree in English and creative writing as well a three years of credits towards a degree in music performance. After all of this, we were in New York City in the fall of 2009. As we followed the directions to our agent's office in Union Square Linea pointed to a bench in the park directly outside of the office. "I called you from there, crying", she said. "Remember?

I remember. It was her last year in Chicago. She and three friends flew to New York City. It was the week after Christmas and husband Curt and I had gone to the remote and beautiful Ucluelet on the Pacific Rim Trail on western Vancouver Island, British Columbia. It is a place as far west as you can get in North America. While in NYC Linea had her wallet stolen with all her identification, money and her credit and debit cards. She was barely well and didn't need any additional stress in her life. I was frightened for her as I stood in the pouring rain and the exact spot in order to get cell phone coverage while she cried from over 3,000 miles away. Yet she stayed steady and her friends stayed by her side as she filed a report with the NYC police and did all the trivial and complicated details involved in losing one's identify and money. Two years later we were in New York, signing a contract with an agent for a book about this journey, not twenty feet from where she had called me. Sometimes you just have to believe that there is a bigger plan for each of us. I have said to Linea so many times, "Trust the Universe." Even times when I didn't have much faith left myself but somehow I still had a tiny speck of curiousity and hope about what might come next. Sometimes I just had to believe in impossible things.

While we were in NYC we made a quick trip through Central Park. We came across the beautiful bronze sculpture of Alice in Wonderland, commissioned by George Delacorte and unveiled in 1959. Linea has always loved Alice in Wonderland. For about two months around age five she would only answer to "Alice". She knew most of the lines from the 1985 movie.

Alice laughed. "There's no use trying, "she said. "One can't believe impossible things."

"I daresay you haven't had much practice," said the Queen. "When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast" (Through the Looking Glass, Lewis Carroll, 1865).

Karma? Serendipity? I never want to quit believing in impossible things.

Horologe for 2010

I have a beautiful horologe or hourglass filled with black sand. I imagine that the sand comes from Kaimu Beach. Hourglasses were used both to keep track of time and for navigation. Although assumed to have been used in the 3rd century and carried around as timepieces the first evidence of the existence of the hourglasse was in 1338, depicted in a fresco by Ambrogio Lorenzetti. Ferdinand Magellan kept 18 hourglasses per ship as he navigated the globe. How did I learn this? Lost in Wikipedia of course! Fascinating!! My hourglass does not help me with navigation unfortunately but it is a constant reminder for me to slow down. When it was new to me I used it daily to block an hour of uninterrupted writing time. Over the years that ritual has slowly unraveled as have many resolutions made at the end of years past. I do love this time of year because, at least for me, it is a time for renewal and new goals, some which will be met and some not. Gradually over the years it seems that I slowly meet a few more. Time to turn the hour glass over again.


Temperance bearing an hourglass; detail
of Lorenzetti's Allegory of Good Government,
1338.

December 29, 2009

The morning began with fog...it "comes on little cat feet. It sits looking over harbor and city on silent haunches and then moves on" (Fog, Carl Sandburg, 1878-1967).


Soon the sun was out and coming through the cedars and firs.

Stop, stop and listen for the bough top
Is whistling and the sun is brighter
Than God's own shadow in the cup now!
(The Blackbird of Derrycairn, Austin Clarke, 1896-1974)

December 26, 2009

I have decided to share photos for the next few days as a way to stay centered in the break between the end of one year and the beginning of another. This was taken on a walk on the beach in West Seattle. Note the paddle surfer is wearing shorts. Quite a contrast from a year ago....

Decorations of the Season

Happy holidays, merry Christmas, and a peaceful, blessed and joyous New Year to all! It is a time of mixed feelings for many. There is a busy-ness as people rush from frantic activities to their overwhelming "to-do" list and push onward and forward. There is excitement particularly for children as they participate in their own events at schools and churches, synagogues and with their families. There is also a sense of bah-humbug, anxiety, depression and a general irritation that can strike at any moment or rests within throughout the season. The singers can irritate, the traffic can madden and the lights and trees and tinsel can annoy.

Personally, I love the decorations of the season. We walked through the local botanical gardens last night and not only were the lights beautiful but it was inspiring to think of all the hours and hours of volunteer time spent stringing millions of lights. Children oooohed and aaaahhhed as the skipped and tunneled through the crowds. Grandparents and great-grandparents slowly made their way along the pathways, supported by their families. Through a partnership of the city, parks, a local radio station, local merchants and thousands of volunteers preparing for months the light display is magical. Some find the Christmas crowds overwhelming. I find it comforting, at least in short durations. It confirms my belief in my fellow humans as we gather together to appreciate the work and beauty of this light display. This morning the newspapers scream out the chilling news of another attack on two police officers. Our community has been under fire. Five officers killed and three seriously and critically injured since October. Two of the three attackers killed by return gunfire. More shootings on a daily basis darken the season. A mother and her baby were shot and killed just last night, in their home, by a man with a restraining order. We could be walking in terror each minute of each day based on the onslaught of news n our world. Yet our time together last night simply enjoying a light display gave me a sense of all the good, ordinary, and kind people on this earth.

Nature provides her own decorations as well. We have a 30 foot holly tree in our front yard that is full of red berries nestled within the impossibly glossy green leaves that cannot be replicated by man or woman. When I am tired of the crowds of the holidays I stand under this tree and I am filled with an equal sense of peace on earth. I love this tree when the berries are lit by sunlight, in the mist and rain, and occasionally like last year, covered in snow. A fleeting feeling perhaps, and fragile in this current world but treasured and kept in a special place in my heart. Merry Christmas to all...and a wish for peace on earth.

Letting Go Yoga Style

I have been practicing yoga on a somewhat regular basis, even after teaching class until 7:00 p.m. Good for me, finally! I am so tired after working/teaching/writing/advising/talking/ administrating/ all day that I can easily put off getting into my car, driving to the studio, changing clothes and doing the work that is required of me to be in class. But every time I make the effort I leave class feeling SO much better. (I know this is a luxury and one that would be near impossible if I still had small children at home.) I thought I would share something that we did the other night that really struck me as more than just "yoga" but rather a life lesson. Yoga and the meditation involved provides lots of ah-hah moments anyway but this was particularly profound, at least to me. I hope I can properly explain what we did. Starting from a child's pose or balasana (legs tucked under and pointing behind, head forward onto the floor) we then placed a blanket roll between our abdomen and thighs. The leader told us that it would feel "somewhat" uncomfortable, perhaps even slightly painful. This would occur as our abdominal organs were moved into a different space, forcing a release of toxins. Here is the best part! IF we could simply notice the "uncomfortable-ness" but not resist, it would soon subside and we would begin to relax and feel centered. My body was initially very tense and, as our instructor noted, afraid it would be hurt so it was in "protection mode" and staying on high alert. It was so true and quite amazing that as I relaxed, and noticed but didn't fight against the stress, it felt so good. An ANALOGY for life I think. We resist things that we automatically think will hurt us, we tense our bodies and our minds. We can't quite "let go" and trust. The more deliberately we try to release and relax the harder it is to do so but if we just notice our feelings and sit with it, slowly we begin to let go and the pain is released. We feel easier and more centered. This is very hard to do with life but likely, as with yoga, easier with practice.

Happy Birthday, Linea!

It is time to write about Linea! She was born on Thanksgiving Day, finally, after making us wait through three days of snowstorms, walking miles through the hospital corridors and waiting, and waiting some more for her entrance into the world. In a family of blonde babies, she was a head of dark hair and born ready to dance with long, long legs and music in her soul and on her lips. Her seven and 1/2 year old big sister, Jordan, held Linea moments after her birth and declared her partnershp in mothering this baby. Linea became a headstrong two-year old and one that we suspected might cause us to fear the teen-age years. Not so. Yes, she was determined and strongly goal-oriented, but immensely kind and loving to her family and to the world. She was a thinker, putting pieces together like a game of Uno, like a Brahms concerto, like the workings of the brain. She is still all this and more. Just look at this beautiful picture she sent to me while attending college in Chicago. This girl has taken us all on a journey with her, an unexpected journey, yet one of immense bravery and with such honesty that our lives have been enriched beyond anything we could have possibly considered. Read her blog, http://www.lineajohnson.blogspot.com/ and celebrate another year with our precious daughter. I can't wait to travel forward with you, Linea, and share all that life has to offer! Love, Mom

Lucky charms, amulets, and talisman

Given this blog has "meandering" in the title, I guess I will.
Meander from my thoughts of Nicaragua for a day or two and discuss lucky charms.

Do you have a ritual to bring you luck or keep you safe? Here are a few to try courtesy of my children and my own childhood.

While going through tunnels: Make a wish while holding your breath and keeping your feet off the floor of the car.

Whisper, "Parking goddess lift your face and find me a close parking space."

Burn green candles for money.

When the digital clock reads 11:11... Make a silent wish.

When you see a small pony, yell, "Eee-oooo-hypogus" (WHAT?).

Worry about what can go wrong hard enough and maybe it won't....oh-oh, that one is serious. It was brought to my attention via my daughter's psychologist that I may use this technique as my own personal amulet. Hmm, not very productive, do you think? Will it keep my children safe? My family? Illness and accidents can strike without any warning or we can keep guard and worry. Illnesses that strike the brain can be sneaky. But I am trying something new. Trusting my daughters to stay as well and healthy as possible and to ask me for help if they need me. That is the talisman I am currently trying on for size. If there happens to be any readers out there...do you have a lucky charm?