Sunday, May 31, 2020

MY SONSHINES—MY BOYS OF MAY



Only from the heart can you touch the sky ~ Rumi

My Dearest Boys,
A different celebration of my Boys of May this year. The Covid-19 stay-at-home orders are keeping us apart, no physical sharing of the must have Carvel “Birthday Cake” today. Postponed for a bit and serving up memories and introspection instead. Visited Matty’s sacred space in our backyard this morning where some of his ashes have been strewn over the graves of his beloved pups. It was as it he cleared a path through the woods for my walk down memory lane. I’m usually greeted by fallen branches, brush that needs to be reigned in to get through, and a seasonal stream that demands navigation. This morning, I walked on a carpet of leaves accompanied by nothing other than the voiceless sounds of nature. The leaves felt soft and luxurious and gave way to a slight sinking into feeling with every step. Sinking into—that feeling when my mind joins my heartspace. I was sinking into the years of love our family has given and received to and from each other and this backyard woodland. The yellow-green color of spring leaves, the rustling whispers or their roar before a storm. The shade and coolness inviting us to sit in silence when we needed a close by get-away. The imagination allowed to run wild with the wonderings of the story held by the ancient stone wall. The mosquitoes, black flies and no-see-ums must have been given a directive as they were nowhere to be seen.

I spent some time clearing the stones and when the past rushed in and left through my eyes, my heart gave me a squeeze for the unanticipated moment of emotion. I thought about how pain and joy cross through each other and with a sigh, turned around to head back to the house. I was stopped in my tracks by two trees, growing side by side—I looked up and saw symbols of you twomy boys, together, shoulder to shoulder sharing a conversation meant only for your ears and hearts. My view was framed by the sun shining through your canopies—my Sonshines, my boys of May deeply rooted in Love, growing toward the Light, inseparable, filling my heart with the fullness granted to me on your birth days.

The year 2020 may have ushered in a different feel in the atmosphere . . . but not in our hearts. Love lives. Happy Birthdays Jason & Matty.

Love forevermore my Geminis `.
Mom

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Sunday, May 10, 2020

Finding Comfort in the Uncomfortable


 The contrasts . . . showing up in words!
Prepping to sit down and write this blog post when the Less Hardly poster comes to mind. I never quite understood what Spirit’s message was until it was time for me to—and then the message is revealed.

I am being touched by the unknown in this pandemic. When thoughts and mind seek refuge in the heart, the joining disempowers fear . . . not dispels, as this emotion is a part of my human condition. I am once again searching for the comfort in uncomfortable, that sacred space within where I can find my equilibrium, my balance between two opposing feelings until that time-of-ready where Spirit resumes my march forward.

Love greets the unity of heart and mind and I am spared the frenetic-thoughts generated by fear. I carry this joining a step further and in complete willingness, I align my heart with Source/Spirit/God/Love. In a now wholehearted relationship, a direct connection with Spirit, I experience a harmonizing in fear—a less hardly feeling of anxiety and worry as guidance received from Spirit is more ever with me, releasing the reaction to fear that once kept my mind captive. What I once considered a baser of emotions, I discover emotions do not have a need to be categorized and these emotions are hardly less important for the growth of my soul than Love is for its evolution. It is much easier to return to this state of heart alignment knowing that I am evermore within reach of the One that is always with me . . . and so continues my journey to healing. A soul journey where today a play on words received in 2019 are now mirrored back to me and in reflection, carry a new meaning.

Words. A love of mine. A lover of words has its own special word—a logophile. Words throughout my life (a'ha moment here) I've collected like little treasures. They are my rock collection, my coin collection or like any other collectible one finds interesting. Why do we collect things? Well for one, my word collection makes me happy. I’m able to experience unexpected moments of joy when I come across a word that engages a few of my five senses.

I have a collection of words of world places simply because I like the way the sounds roll off my tongue when pronounced and the way they hit my ear as if a musical note . . . Kuala Lumpur, Apalachicola, Sebastopol. My favorite foreign word—one word used to describe a complex emotion—schaudenfreude. I believe this word needs time for reflection as part of my spiritual journey and deserves a #750 word contemplation as I parse through the feelings opposing the norm elicited by this descriptive, and learning more about myself in the process. Epicaricacy, its English counterpart . . . not so fond of! 

Mispronunciation and misreading. There is a good chance that new memories are in the making during these times. Family togetherness, when we are truly in relationship with one another—listening, loving. One of my favorites comes from a young Matty, misreading an outdoor patio sign at a local restaurant we were lunching at. “The topatio” (toe.pa.tay.o), he proudly announced is where he’d like to sit . . . to patio this way, read the sign! To this day whenever the family sees outside seating, it continues to be called the topatio. Spanakopita, or better know to our clan as spank-a-pita, always brings a smile and a wonderful memory; a warmth to my heart of a special time when more love was coming into our family. Or the love of listening to a child recite the ABC's for their first time. Learning letters that will later be constructed into words. Made for the heart words that go years without correction as toddlers begin to speak their version of ad-adult language— lellow, nemember, a'cation, anoculars.

Word play. I use words to create a visual, a metaphor through and not over the hardchips I come across on my path. Yes, this too came from Spirit. I was typing the word hardships, a typo turned into a mini-moment of reflection and a flow of words came next to help define. They are heart chips, little nicks taken from the heart when met with obstacles, challenges, setbacks. Nicks from the heart recognized by my grit, tenacity and perseverance. Nicks leaving enough space for fear and doubt to enter and disrupt the virtues of trust and belief. Little pieces waiting for clarity and understanding, a return to the whole teaching me patience—biding time until my soul journey calls out that the time is right, here and now.  I pick up a piece, a nick and embrace it. I thank it for its patient waiting. I hold it and examine it and turn it over to see all sides and angles. I ask “what will you be teaching me” and this week the answer is “the birth of judgement”. 

When I'm trying to personalize, get my arms around, embrace—a concept, feelings, emotions—when I need a greater understanding, I give them a tighter embrace. They, the unknown, spring from small letters to capitalized letters when they’ve found a place in my heart and reverence for their teachings.

The soul journey, finding comfort in the uncomfortable is a much needed examination of the inner me, revealing more of Me. Talking about, sharing, hearing, listening, taking words turned into stories and placing them into the heart for safekeeping, these soul journeys of mine and others. There exists a need to find the comfort in the uncomfortable when speaking of this topic. It arrives clothed in vulnerability. The dialogue may feel less than natural at the start, angst filled until my Brave steps forward to take my hand—intimacy recognized by soul. Hiding, compartmentalizing, running from the feelings, the conversations rob me of the opportunity to perhaps gain a shift in perception with the possibility leading to a change in perspective. When I dig deeper, I get closer to answering the question “Who am I?”

Spiritual word play, I hold great appreciation and a zeal as this is how Spirit/Soul my awareness of Christ-consciousness allows me to tap into the pool of universal Wisdom. What does this all mean? More healing, more soul remembering. The soul journey is a journey of re-memory-ing. I am born with an open-ended invitation to connect with the Great Mystery and in my rsvp of yes, I am choosing presence in alignment, union, and relationship. The wisdom held in the soul, in union with all souls makes itself known to my consciousness. I will meet my two selves; myself and mySelf on this journey. I will learn about myself, soul at birth—my humanspirit; and my soul in alignment—my Spirithuman. A simple reversal of words and a complete reversal of how I live my life forward.

My heart chips will be reunited through this process and glued together by Love. It all comes back to Love. I learned about the role of contact tracing during this pandemic; finding each covid-19 patient and their interactions since infection. My journey will undertake a bit of spiritual tracing, how everything can be traced back to Love and held together by Love.

Words are my friends and at other times in my life, when I’ve come face to face with uncomfortable topics, a topic such as Grief—where people not knowing how to begin their search in finding the comfort in the uncomfortable feel a new heart chip. The lack of words hurt, the non-acknowledgement of my grief, my loss has left me with a feeling of not belonging, set apart from the rest, isolated in mourning.

There are many unknowns that will emerge from the pandemic we are living through. I can only speak to my experience, and grief and mourning fall into the category of knowns. What part can I play as I observe the stay-at-home order with self-love for my weakened immune system and love for others with health conditions? I can use my words and share what is coming from my heart today. Perhaps shed light on the empathy and compassion needed to help one heal from the loss and tragedy that occurs daily. I witness kindness and compassion exhibited from small acts, to collective acts to great acts of collaboration. I also observe the difficulty of acceptance and believability in others who will unfortunately gain an understanding of trauma, grief, and loss when it seeks them out personally.

My heart breaks for the tragedy of this all. I have found my comfort in the uncomfortable in speaking about the feelings and emotions associated with trauma, loss and death. My heart aches for the segment of the population entering their journey into grief and mourning. Our death-averse culture places enormous uncomfortable-ness atop acts of active grieving and mourning as well as a lack of comfort when it finds itself in daily conversation. How do we choose which 10 family members can attend a viewing of a spouse, parent, child or sibling? How does having to put off services for months allow an organic start to the healing process? What happens when pain is un-acknowledged? How do we offer emotional support when one does not know what to say or where to begin?

We have tests to determine whether the virus is active, inactive or asymptomatic in individuals. Is there a test for our hearts? Our souls hold a limitless capacity for Love. What about a test measuring the heart for positive, negative or asymptomatic symptoms complete with guidelines and a level of supportive care allowing for an expansion of empathy—allowing it to flow into compassion, an emotion requiring action? Giving and receiving—two halves of a whole. The test results are invisible yet measurable by reaction to emotion. They show positive, negative or asymptomatic according to the feelings that emanate from the heart. The test could be as simple as becoming aware of your heart when one learns of, hears or reads about another’s grief and mourning. The medicine, read an article daily, take time to listen to someone’s story. Let’s engage our hearts and participate in the conversation, helping in the healing process of a fellow soul, one soul at a time.

I am beginning to see the Love that sits beneath judgement with or through my heart eyes. The acceptance that I Am humanspirit with moments of Spirithuman as my process of transformation continues. As I peel the onion to get to the core of myself, to feel every part of every emotion and observe my reactions until there are none; I will be a part of this conversation. Herein lies the lesson . . . the need to feel in order to see from the heart. Thoughts delivered to the heart, joined in seeking answers, buttressing the heart of humanity, finding unity. Thank you Spirit for this lesson orchestrated through my passion for word play.

“Sometimes, reaching out and taking someone's hand is the beginning of a journey.
At other times, it is allowing another to take yours.”
Vera Nazarian, The Perpetual Calendar of Inspiration