Tool for the Journey #21 - Already More

This tool for the journey comes from Ben Taylor. Unbeknownst to him he gave me this 'tool' a few years ago and it is because of this tool I ultimately came to know him. Ben gave me this gift through his exhale in the bridge of one of his songs long before I met him. Subsequent to receiving this gift I have had the blessing of coming to know more closely the spirit in which he and his band share their musical offerings.

In my humble opinion we live in a musical era where their type of creative generosity and thoughtfulness is rarer than it should be. Far too many musicians trade grace for gloss, yet Ben (et al) seems gently insistent that we 'listeners' be intelligent and engaged... and I respect their artistic integrity and posture a great deal.

Regarding the 'tool' he gave me...in order to show it to you I need to share with you the lyrics of Ben's powerful song:

Digest

When it gets me depressed I find
That it's best with my chest high
As I stretch my lungs & express my love,
Hold my breath & forget my pride,
To reflect that the rest of our lives are a measure of time.
We may as well try to express some style.
I exhale my prayer.
(And) follow it with my eyes as it fills the air.
In the back of my mind I imagine that you can hear
As if you could still be near me.

But
Lately I've been breaking my mind,
Trying my best but it's taking its time.
Cause
I've been forced to digest this wasteful emptiness.
I'm supposed to laugh as if there's nothing going on.
I know life goes on regardless,
But nothing's been the same
Since you've been gone.

Another run around the sun,
Look at the things we've seen.
What have we both become?
What have we dreamed?
Who have we lost?
And what have we won?

I never could've believed that you wouldn't have finished what we'd begun.
I never dared to imagine you would've been taken away from us.

Lately I've been breaking my mind,
Trying my best but it's taking its time.
Cause
I've been forced to digest this wasteful emptiness.
I'm supposed to laugh as if there's nothing going on.
I know life goes on regardless,
But nothing's been the same
Since you've been gone,
Since you've been gone,
Since you've been gone.

Now times change & the game plays on,
And the truth remains but the rules have all gone wrong.
Life rises, now here we are
Still looking for the place where we belong.
Stronger than habit & fantasy,
Deeper than gravity.
What will be has to be.
God planned it, I understand it.
I hadn't imagined you'd leave me stranded
On this stage in these lights where I'm standing.
No right to complain
Cause it's already more than I'd ever have asked.
But without you
The best has yet to pass & now this song is about you.

And I've been forced to digest this wasteful emptiness.
I'm supposed to laugh as if there's nothing going on.
I know life goes on regardless,
But nothing's been the same
Since you've been gone,
Since you've been gone,
Since you've been gone.

**

No right to complain 
'cause it's already more than I'd ever have asked

Wow - what a gift and a scolding, a reminder and an affirmation these words have been to me. 

It should be said it does not matter what Ben meant when he sang these words because as the listener I am not only allowed but also expected to do my part in this creative circle. It is my job to slow down, listen and interpret his lyrics to find the gift he was giving - viewing it through my own lens. Within each song is a gift specifically for me if I am willing to take the time to hear it. This lovely 'dance' between singer and listener is why music - more than any other creative medium - is the 'Universal Language'.

One never truly knows the impact our words, our exhale, will have on others...as we are not always aware of who is 'listening' or how our words will be heard.  As a singer/songwriter this seems especially challenging because songs ripple out far and wide (for years) and thus have more potential to touch people repeatedly than other forms of art. The glorious part is their gifts are given freely for us to interpret and what we receive is shaped by our ability to 'listen', and by our own life experiences. We get to add ourselves to the art through our interpretation if it.

An artist's painting, or poem, song or story - all are snapshots of moments in time; flashes of joy and pain, love and beauty, frenzy and repose - introspection and insights breathed out onto vinyl and canvas and paper - these things of the heart and mind become something solid through the willingness of the artist to feel and then share those feelings. This type of 'eyes wide open' exploration and examination takes more courage than many people realize.

As patrons of art our interpretations become an essential part of completing the circle of giving which was initiated by the artist. We give back by our ability to listen with open hearts and minds; to hear not only what was said, but also to listen well enough to discern the more invisible, harder to find bits. Their treasure is found when we engage with the art and breathe in their gifts, when we listen and actually hear what is being said in the places high above the words which were sung or spoken...

My interpretation of Ben Taylor is he is generous as an artist in his exhale. He is intelligent and witty and he is certainly willing to step outside the box and take risks with his music, yet his lyrics also leave much low-hanging fruit for the listener. He reminds us of gravity but also lifts us up with lighter gifts and gives us permission to laugh at him as well as ourselves. His heart is palpable because he is willing to share it. He does not appear to have the need to emulate anyone else in his craft, yet his respect for others in his field is certainly evident.

Ben's gifts to me through his music have been many, but the one which will always stand out for me remains the same:

'No right to complain cuz' it's already more than I'd ever have asked'.

Already more...so much more than I'd ever have asked.
These words started as a reminder but have become a part of my foundation - part of the ground I stand on; a valuable tool for my journey.

I don't want to take things for granted, not my life, not the people in it, nor the gifts and blessings I have been given. It isn't as though these words sung by Ben were new to me, but somehow I listened and heard them in a new way that day - and this changed something inside of me for the better. Ben didn't do this - I did, but he contributed through his art, through his exhale...and this has been a gift to me from him.

Already more...rather than 'not enough'...is the glass half full or half empty? Perhaps we should just be so damned glad we are blessed to have a glass at all when so many in the world do not. For me it isn't about how much is in the glass but rather what we do with however much we are given. Do we recognize the glass and the gifts...and then pay it forward?

In this life I have already more than I'd ever have asked, and a singer I didn't even know reminded me to keep my priorities and perspective in their proper place...all because I was listening.

In-Joy the journey! Stay open and keep listening!
Cheryl

You can find more info about Ben and his band as well as their upcoming tour dates at:

www.bentaylormusic.com

Tools for the Journey #20 - Who do you carry?

 

[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart] 
By E. E. Cumming

 i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)
i am never without it(anywhere i go you go,my dear;
and whatever is done by only me is your doing,my darling)
                             i fear 
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)
i want no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true) 
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant 
and whatever a sun will always sing is you       
       here is the deepest secret nobody knows 
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud 
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;
which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide) 
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
   i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

  I have always loved Cummings' works, however this particular poem has long been my favorite. As with all good poetry - it has held different meaning for me at various points on my journey. During a recent trip to California my old friend and mentor, Wendy Palmer, posed a question to me which brought this poem back into my mind once again and gave it new meaning. Her question was:  

"Who do you carry with you?"

Wendy and I were talking about ways of walking through this life; during our conversation she shared with me both the question and her own answer to it. She told me, "In my heart I carry the Dali Lama, in my belly I carry O-Sensei (Japanese martial arts master and founder of Aikido, Morihei Ueshiba)". I cannot recall now whom she said she carried in her head but her point was she carries in her head, heart and belly those people she feels can help her be more grounded, centered and powerful as she walks through her life. This is a mindfulness practice and one which I had never thought of before in quite this way...

Who do I carry with me?"

Each body center contributes to our understanding of the world around us and if open can enhance our experience of life.

Head - intuitive intelligence - self-awareness, new ideas, paying attention to the world around us, wisdom, thinking, consciousness, listening and our connection to concepts; intellectual knowing.

Heart - emotional intelligence - self-concept, radiation of  love, kindness, compassion, emotions and creativity, how we feel, sense and experience life and our connection to people; inner knowing.

Belly - somatic intelligence - self-portrayal, the solidity and connectivity; the embodiment of how we stand up and walk through this life, our connection to Mother Earth and the natural world, our foundation; movement and physical knowing.

Since the conversation with Wendy, I have given quite a lot of thought to who I would want to carry in my head, heart and belly. Each person I have chosen is a person I feel embodies in a significant way, the strength of that particular body center.

After I decided who those people would be then began the process of actually walking through my daily life carrying them with me. This means paying more attention to how I am looking out of my eyes, listening, hearing, smelling, tasting, feeling, paying attention, and exhaling (what I give back to the world) as myself yet also endeavoring to embody some of the essence of the people I 'carry' - because the way they walk through the world resonates with me. This practice has enriched me in ways I would never have imagined possible. The benefits have been subtle, but the changes in my point of view have added a richness and texture to my day to day life which has been wonderful and surprising.

Who do I carry?

In my head I carry Erik Weihenmayer. I carry Erik because of how he listens to and thinks about the world, how he intellectually engages with the planet and the people on it, how he uses his wisdom in unconventional ways and challenges conventional thinking. He is my "head person" because of his stunning capacity to problem solve and because he looks for what is possible past what is simply visible.

In my heart I carry His Holiness, the XIV Dali Lama. I carry the Dali Lama with me because of his compassion and love for all living things. His Holiness summarizes Buddhism and his life philosophy in this way: "Try to help others. If you are not able to be of help then at least do them no harm." Kindness, compassion and wisdom...for His Holiness the Dali Lama these are not just empty words, but rather foundational principals. My most sincere wish in life is to be a kind, caring and compassionate person. I carry the Dali Lama as my "heart person" because I know of no other living being who has so mastered the art of true compassion.

In my belly I carry Wendy Palmer. I carry Wendy because she is the steadiest, most peaceful, rooted and centered person I have ever had the blessing to know. She seems to be a tree in human form and her roots go all the way to the center of the earth. She is solid and unshakable. She embodies for me creativity, intuition and a calmness which I strive for but have not yet achieved. Wendy is my "heart person" because she reminds me it is not just about the journey but about being conscious on the journey. In my pursuit of wisdom I have much still to learn and Wendy taught in times of uncertainty there is value in simply entering the sanctuary of not-knowing and having the courage to wait.

I believe E. E. Cummings got it right in his poem - about who we carry with us.

"...(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud 
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;
which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide) 
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart..."

On our internal and outward journeys we may not find 'the whole truth' or come to know all the secrets of the universe exactly, but if we carry with us those who keep us grounded yet also open and honest, then we will certainly find pieces enough to enrich and sustain us. This seeking is a worthwhile endeavor and what we gather along the way will be sufficient to grow our Selves in rich soil with deep roots...

Ask yourself who you are 'carrying'...seek out and place these people within you because the celebration of those who nourish and sustain us on our journey is indeed part of the wonder that's keeping the stars apart.


On this Mother's Day I wish to say 'thank you' to one person in particular who nourished and sustained me for much of my journey - my mother, Carol.

Mama, I carry you in my heart in a special 'center' reserved just for you. You left this life fourteen years ago but you are still the voice inside my head and part of the fabric of my heart. Not a day goes by when I don't use one of the many 'tools' you gave me.

It is my belief that even if your mother is already gone from this life she will come close on Mother's Day each year to listen to her children. So if you are listening, mama - I love you and I always carry you with me - I carry you in my heart!

Happy Mother's Day

In-Joy
Cheryl

Tools for the Journey #19 - The Caterpillar and The Butterfly

"What the caterpillar calls the end of the world,
the master calls a butterfly." - Richard Bach


Over the years how many times have I been the 'caterpillar' with some looming catastrophe (or life change) seeming to suggest the end of life as I knew it? Many more times than I can count. When I was younger I believed I would be a caterpillar until the glorious day arrived when I would finally graduate to my more desired butterfly-self. With the wisdom of years I have come to understand we never truly and completely 'graduate' but rather are both caterpillar and butterfly again and again throughout the course of our lives.

My preference for my lighter-than-air, flight prone butterfly-self is undeniable. My impatience with the limited capacity of my rolly-polly caterpillar-self is distinct. However, as I have grown older - and hopefully wiser - I have tried to develop an appreciation for the time spent as a 'caterpillar'.

To the untrained eye one might think caterpillars have a pretty cushy job, just inching around the garden munching on yummy green leaves all day long...and on the surface this may be true. However, unlike people, caterpillars don't have a choice to stay caterpillars all their lives. With caterpillars metamorphosis is mandatory; transformation is non-negotiable. For the caterpillar this means at the end of the day growing into a larger, more evolved version of oneself is what must be undertaken...and this type of transformative process is usually not very comfortable.

As humans we get more of a choice about how much we will grow (past the usual things like being born, growing up, growing old, getting sick and well)...and choice is the double-edged sword we must live with. Choosing to grow, to reach out, to extend ourselves past our caterpiller-ness to reach our butterfly-ness means electing to experience the discomfort of the chrysalis in order to become all we might in this life. However, electing not to grow, choosing not to look Life right in the eyes has a different sort of price tag.

It takes courage to embrace the 'death' of our caterpillar-self...it requires a "leap and the net will appear" type of faith because you don't really know where you will end up or exactly what 'butterfly' you will become. And what happens inside a chrysalis anyway? What mysteries await us inside the cocoon? I believe new parts of ourselves are revealed to us when we bravely turn inward and begin self-reconstruction; this spiritual labor can catalyze changes in the way we perceive the world around us. If we have guts enough to go in and do the work then we are rewarded when we emerge as the butterfly with wings and also 'new eyes' to view the world around us.

Metanoia: The term derives from the Ancient Greek words μετά (metá) (meaning "beyond" or "after") and νόος (noeō) (meaning "perception" or "understanding" or "mind"). The caterpillar inches her way along with a view up through the leaves towards the sky...but her location limits her view of the bigger picture. The butterfly having transcended the 'ground' has a view from the air which gives increased perspective of the big picture. What the butterfly sees from the sky looking down is 'beyond the understanding' of the caterpillar.

At times of new beginnings we may feel uncertain just as the butterfly fresh from the chrysalis is unsure of her new wings...but the instant her wings lift her from the ground for the first time the caterpillar she was is gone forever. With flight she is afforded (even if momentarily) a view of the mosaic of her life...and of all that is possible.

When the cycle begins again, which it always does, and the butterfly goes to sleep and wakes up as a caterpillar - she awakens with those memories of flight inside of her. It is these recollections which are tools for her journey; they will help her to have the strength to once again begin the work to transform herself into the next butterfly she is to become.

"You can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards." - Steve Jobs

Blessings on your journey as both caterpillar and butterfly.

In-Joy
Cheryl

Tools for the Journey #18 - Puff of Smoke

“Your son has had a stroke.” I couldn’t believe my ears as the doctor told us the horrifying news. Our happy, vibrant, joyful, 4 year old son, YuYu had only been home from China for six months and had no other health problems. How could this be happening to our precious child? In a puff of smoke our lives were changed forever.

With tears in my eyes and arms with every ounce of my protective ‘mama-bear-ness’, I called a friend in Boston who is a pediatric neurologist. She instructed me to get a copy of YuYu’s CT scan and FedEx it overnight; she would have the pediatric neurology team at Children’s Hospital look at it the following morning. The miracle of this friendship would translate to a quicker than normal diagnosis and treatment plan being put into action for our wee boy.

Within 24 hours we received a phone call from Dr. R. Michael Scott, renowned pediatric neurosurgeon, who told us YuYu had moyamoya disease. Moyamoya – it sounded comical, like a fruity tropical drink with a cocktail umbrella, not a horrid disease which could rob my son permanently of his mind and his body due to severe strokes.

Moyamoya is a Japanese word which translates as 'puff of smoke' in English; the phrase describes how affected blood vessels look on an angiogram of the brain. Moyamoya is a rare disorder which is significantly more common in people of Asian descent. The disease is characterized by progressive narrowing of the primary arteries which feed blood to the brain and leads to irreversible blockage of the carotid arteries as they enter into the skull. The process of blockage once it begins tends to continue despite any known medical management unless treated with surgery. Without treatment the repeated strokes can lead to severe functional impairment or even death. It is a disease which tends to affect children and most commonly causes transient ischemic attacks (TIAs), migraine headaches, strokes, and seizures.

Dr. Scott told us our son’s disease was significant on the left side of his brain and he would need brain surgery as soon as possible. He also told us it was only a matter of time before the right side of his brain would become affected. I spent all that night on the internet reading everything I could find on moyamoya; the symptoms, treatments, and the long term prognosis after surgery. What I read shed light on how stunningly fortunate we were to get an accurate diagnosis so quickly. Very few pediatric neurosurgeons in the United States specialize in moyamoya and its treatment and amazingly Dr. Scott is the pediatric neurosurgeon who developed the intricate and cutting-edge surgical procedure YuYu needed to save his life!

With our son in our arms and no small measure of fear in our hearts we flew to Boston. Dr. Scott and his remarkable team did the cranial revascularization surgery YuYu needed. The nail biting agony of the 8 hour surgery was behind us soon enough, and recovery was surprisingly quick, but it would be many months before we allowed ourselves to truly relax.

Twelve months after his first stroke YuYu had disease progression on the right side of his brain; this meant a Med-Flight back to Children’s Hospital Boston for more brain surgery. Unfortunately the second surgery was complicated by a severe second stroke during the surgery and our dear boy awoke with paralysis from head to toe on the left side of his body.

 

After six long weeks in a rehabilitation hospital (where one or the other of his parents was always at his side) YuYu was finally permitted to come home. Slowly over the next few years with physical therapy, speech therapy and sheer determination on his part, he gained back much of the function he had lost.

As frightening and dark as those days, months and years were, today YuYu is a happy, healthy boy whose default setting in life is still ‘joy’ even after all he’s been through. He seems to have an innate capacity for gratitude and effervescence which inspires everyone who knows him. The State of New Hampshire even granted him the Champion Among Children Award in 2013.

 

There are no guarantees in this life; there aren’t any guarantees when you adopt a child, just as there are none when you give birth to one. When you decide to embark on the journey of parenthood you open your heart wide and then you dance with the children you’re blessed to have arrive in your life. Loving your child isn’t about biology, it’s about something larger and deeper and more humanly, emotionally, spiritually transcendent than biology. The evidence overwhelmingly suggests it has to do with something far more profound than mere biology; if it was simply about biology we’d have many more well-adjusted humans walking among us in the world today.

 

This being said it never ceases to amaze me when well-meaning people question us about whether we have regrets about adopting YuYu given he ended up with so many medical problems. I call this the “adoption double standard” because one would likely never ask a biological parent if they were sorry they gave birth to their child simply because their child developed a medical condition. The narrowness of this view stuns me on every level. Each time someone asks this question my reply is the same: This precious boy is our son. Stop-full-stop. We have no regrets; we love him absolutely, we are thankful for the joyful gift he is in our lives and are grateful that for today he is healthy. Tomorrow holds no promises for any of us so we choose to stand squarely in love with our son today and leave tomorrow where it belongs.
**********
**********

As we head in to a new year I hope this ‘puff of smoke’ story will provide food-for-thought about insidious and potentially restrictive assumptions we sometimes make along the way in life...both in relation to our own lives and the lives of those around us.

Our adoption journeys taught us much about the startlingly narrow assumptions people make regarding how much love someone might have for a biological child vs. an adopted child. The example I give when asked about this is: my husband is not a part of my biological family, yet I love him as much as any member of my biological family. Marriage and adoption are examples of a choice to love, a promise to love, a stand for love and are a larger definition of 'tribe' than just bloodlines; in many ways it’s a larger embrace.

 
'Puff of smoke' is the translation of moyamoya into English from Japanese.
The medical phrase emphasizes the dangerously narrowing and blocked blood vessels of the brain which can lead to paralysis, stroke and even death. This narrowing is a loud warning sign that something must be done in order to save a life at risk.

In this context 'puff of smoke' is a metaphor of a symbolic narrowing of mind or restricting of heart. At one time or another we’ve all had some narrowness of mind and heart whether we want to admit it or not. This smoke signal, if you will, is meant as a shoulder-tap about the importance of mindfulness, of being (and staying) awake, aware and open rather than restricted or blocked – a reminder to flow. Perhaps once in a while we all should do a mental 'angoigram' in order to detect any warning signs indicating any narrowing of heart and mind.

As we journey into 2012 - The Chinese Year of the Dragon - (The dragon is the fifth sign in the Chinese Horoscope and signifies luck...) there is the choice to be receptive rather than restricted. I notice when I’m open and willing to have new eyes, even on old problems (old ideas or flawed/restricted opinions), then new solutions and new information are more easily received. My aim in the new year is to stay awake and aware on this heart-wide-open adventure called Life. Perhaps this year I can find ways to let the Dragon "burn away" any of my older more restrictive views and make way for new, more open, flowing perceptions which we’re each capable of...remembering things can and do change as quickly as a puff of smoke!

新年好

Xīnnián hǎo

Have a prosperous and good year.

Cheryl