This morning I posted another story on my other blog, Whispering Circles (http://whisperingcircles.blogspot.com/). It is a favorite story that got me thinking some. It is a folk story about the aging process.
I've been thinking about getting older a lot lately. I am getting older, which frankly I think may be preferable to the alternative. But I'm not sure.
A couple of weeks ago my daughter asked me if I was afraid to die. I know my health issues weigh heavily on her mind and in a strange way it makes me feel good to know she worries about me. I told Becca that I am not afraid of death.
Becca was horrified. "How can you want to die?" I explained that it is not that I want to die. She asked if I was afraid to die and I'm not. Whenever it comes, I will not be afraid to die. She seemed comforted a little bit by this. Not a lot; but a little anyway.
I really am not afraid to die. Apparently, I've been closer to it than not on a couple of occasions, though I don't remember any of them. That must be another survival adaptation; not storing memories of unpleasant things over which we have virtually no control.
Control is an important thing in my life. I have been aware for a long time that I have control issues. I like things to be nice and tidy and put away. I like my tools put away, the hose rolled up when it's not being used; dishes in the sink either washed or put in the dishwasher. I rarely get what I want in regards to control and I have been trying for a number of years to let stuff go. I am getting better, but I'm not really there yet.
When I think about dying now I think of a transition to a different experience. I am not sure what to expect but I do believe that there is something there. I believe that we are all energetic people and that our souls are really concentrations of that energy. I think when we die that soul energy joins the cosmic energy and is recycled into new people.
I am a practicing Buddhist and I have come to a more complete and sophisticated understanding of karma and reincarnation. I think my soul energy idea works for both. Our soul energy attracts other soul energy based on ... well, I haven't worked out all the details. I also think that our soul energy moves progressively from a state of chaos to a state of sublime mindfulness and that this occurs at different rates for different souls but for most over a few lifetimes at least.
That explains my cancer to me as well. I got a cancer that 95% of the people who get is are either heavy smokers or heavy drinkers or both. I was and have never been either. I got someone else's cancer? This was a real cosmic screw up! Or, in a previous life I earned some karma that I am paying off now. In a strange way that also comforts me. I think that I can understand and accept that.
What I don't believe is that there is some omipotent deity who is intimately interested in and tinkers with our day to day lives. The universe is a random place, stuff happens, and a lot of times there is no good reason. I didn't get cancer so that I could learn some important life lesson. No God had a divine plan for me to get a potentially fatal disease so that I could fulfill some divine scheme. I just got cancer. Maybe there was some karma involved.
The other thing that I thought about today is ownership of folk stories. The story I posted on Whispering Circles is a folk story. A woman tells me that she has copyrighted the story and that I cannot tell it without giving her a royalty. I think she is delusional. Folk stories and folklore by definition cannot be owned. And in any case, no one ever tells the same story as some one else.
As soon as I tell a story it is unique to me. If you listen to my story, recite the story word for word, memorize my facial expressions and gestrues and voice inflection; strive to recreate my telling of it; it will still be a story that is unique to you. We shape our folklore; we cannot stop that or prevent it; it is just a fact. Folklore evolves. As do stories.
So, if you ever want to tell one of my stories feel free. Actually, I tend not to call them "my stories" in the first place. The stories belong to the universe; where random stuff happens; like stories get told and retold and evolve and become different and people sometimes get a cancer they don't deserve.
It just is.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
Monday, July 16, 2012
I had a very interesting experience one day last week that made me feel older and yet energized and excited and inspired me at the same time.
I had a doctor's appointment and after the nurse was done taking my vital signs she told me that the doctor had a medical student working with him and asked if it would be all right for the medical student to come in. I remember getting my clinical hours and I gladly said yet.
It was a few minutes before the student came in. I have to confess that when she came in I did not recognize her. She introduced herself as Shelly and said, "I think I know you." In my work I got to know so many people in the community that I often have trouble remembering people with whom I may have had limited contact, especially if I see them in an unfamiliar environment.
My puzzled expression must have been obvious. Shelly explained that her younger sister, Whitney, and my daughter, Becca, had been friends. It was only then that I recognized Shelly. I had not seen her in several years, but I had known her since she was about seven years old. It was only then that I recognized Shelly.
My face just lit up. A routine doctor's appointment had just gotten a lot more enjoyable. We embraced. I had known that Shelly was studying to become a physician's assistant. Her lab coat indicated that she was a student at USC (University of Southern California), a great medical school and teaching hospital.
We talked a little about family and Shelly went about her examination of me. She took a detailed history of my specific complain and listened to my heart and lungs. It was so wonderful to see Shelly.
It made me feel a little older seeing this young woman blossom into a caring, compassionate, and competent professional. I still remember the seven year old. On the other hand it was exciting and inspiring and reassuring to see a new generation of young people start to take their place in the world.
After the appointment I was so exciting to tell my wife Alice and my daughter Becca about seeing Shelly. I told Becca as soon as I got home and told Alice when she got home. Just yesterday I asked Becca if I had mentioned to her that I had seen Shelly. Becca looked surprised and asked me if I was serious. Becca told me that over the past few days I had asked her that question four or five times.
That really made me feel older.
I had a doctor's appointment and after the nurse was done taking my vital signs she told me that the doctor had a medical student working with him and asked if it would be all right for the medical student to come in. I remember getting my clinical hours and I gladly said yet.
It was a few minutes before the student came in. I have to confess that when she came in I did not recognize her. She introduced herself as Shelly and said, "I think I know you." In my work I got to know so many people in the community that I often have trouble remembering people with whom I may have had limited contact, especially if I see them in an unfamiliar environment.
My puzzled expression must have been obvious. Shelly explained that her younger sister, Whitney, and my daughter, Becca, had been friends. It was only then that I recognized Shelly. I had not seen her in several years, but I had known her since she was about seven years old. It was only then that I recognized Shelly.
My face just lit up. A routine doctor's appointment had just gotten a lot more enjoyable. We embraced. I had known that Shelly was studying to become a physician's assistant. Her lab coat indicated that she was a student at USC (University of Southern California), a great medical school and teaching hospital.
We talked a little about family and Shelly went about her examination of me. She took a detailed history of my specific complain and listened to my heart and lungs. It was so wonderful to see Shelly.
It made me feel a little older seeing this young woman blossom into a caring, compassionate, and competent professional. I still remember the seven year old. On the other hand it was exciting and inspiring and reassuring to see a new generation of young people start to take their place in the world.
After the appointment I was so exciting to tell my wife Alice and my daughter Becca about seeing Shelly. I told Becca as soon as I got home and told Alice when she got home. Just yesterday I asked Becca if I had mentioned to her that I had seen Shelly. Becca looked surprised and asked me if I was serious. Becca told me that over the past few days I had asked her that question four or five times.
That really made me feel older.
Saturday, July 7, 2012
I'm Alright Even If I Am Lazy And Undisciplined
I haven't posted a blog in a while and I keep thinking that there must be something interesting about which I can write; but for the life of me I can't think of what it might be. Of course, I may have forgotten it too.
Actually, it has been a pretty exciting week here at Whispering Circles 1/4 acre organic farm cooperative and artists colony, or what we call home. On Monday I started to see the signs of an impending pneumonia again: dropping oxygen saturation; that classic productive cough; and a low grade fever. I took care of myself at first and then on Wednesday went to see the doctor. That early intervention has, I am convinced, kept me out of the hospital. My own doctor is on vacation so I saw one of his partners, and she put me on antibiotics. I am doing so much better today. I just took my oxygen saturation and it is at 98%.
I've been up this morning doing some yard work and work on the computer. I helped load a bunch of stuff for our church yard sale and I am going to do some shopping at Home Depot and then a little more yard work. I love feeling like I'm productive.
I sat in zazen (sitting meditation) this morning and it was exquisitely beautiful. On Tuesday and Wednesday I skipped meditation due to my feeling junky and I really felt the effects. I could have done my meditation - I just decided to be lazy and abandom my disciplined spiritual practice, which is never really a good idea.
I was going to take my in-laws, who are visiting for a few weeks, up to an historical old west town, Winthrop, on Friday, but my wife refused to give us permission to go since I was still recovering from whatever it was that I had that wasn't and never had a chance of becoming, due to our early and aggressive intervention, a pneumonia.
So now I've written something. I feel like there is one more thing I can check off my to do list. And even though this is far from profound, it does make me feel good to be writing. The discipline of writing regularly is, like my meditation, an important spiritual discipline that cultivates a deep and meaningful life - physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.
How often have I decided to abandon or ignore my disciplined practices because it just wasn't the right time or I didn't feel it or aliens don't wear purple hats or some other equally vacuous excuse to be lazy. I think we all probably do this. I sometimes conjure images of the Dalai Lama deciding to sleep a half hour longer before getting up and sitting in meditation. It could happen! At least it makes me feel like I'm alright anyway.
Actually, it has been a pretty exciting week here at Whispering Circles 1/4 acre organic farm cooperative and artists colony, or what we call home. On Monday I started to see the signs of an impending pneumonia again: dropping oxygen saturation; that classic productive cough; and a low grade fever. I took care of myself at first and then on Wednesday went to see the doctor. That early intervention has, I am convinced, kept me out of the hospital. My own doctor is on vacation so I saw one of his partners, and she put me on antibiotics. I am doing so much better today. I just took my oxygen saturation and it is at 98%.
I've been up this morning doing some yard work and work on the computer. I helped load a bunch of stuff for our church yard sale and I am going to do some shopping at Home Depot and then a little more yard work. I love feeling like I'm productive.
I sat in zazen (sitting meditation) this morning and it was exquisitely beautiful. On Tuesday and Wednesday I skipped meditation due to my feeling junky and I really felt the effects. I could have done my meditation - I just decided to be lazy and abandom my disciplined spiritual practice, which is never really a good idea.
I was going to take my in-laws, who are visiting for a few weeks, up to an historical old west town, Winthrop, on Friday, but my wife refused to give us permission to go since I was still recovering from whatever it was that I had that wasn't and never had a chance of becoming, due to our early and aggressive intervention, a pneumonia.
So now I've written something. I feel like there is one more thing I can check off my to do list. And even though this is far from profound, it does make me feel good to be writing. The discipline of writing regularly is, like my meditation, an important spiritual discipline that cultivates a deep and meaningful life - physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.
How often have I decided to abandon or ignore my disciplined practices because it just wasn't the right time or I didn't feel it or aliens don't wear purple hats or some other equally vacuous excuse to be lazy. I think we all probably do this. I sometimes conjure images of the Dalai Lama deciding to sleep a half hour longer before getting up and sitting in meditation. It could happen! At least it makes me feel like I'm alright anyway.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Standing On The Side Of Love
On Sunday June 24, 2012 I was a part of the Cascade Unitarian Universalist Fellowship contingent in the Seattle Gay Pride Parade. It was unbelievable, in a good way. I had so much fun.
There were just eleven of us with the church banner and signs promoting marriage equality, standing on the side of love, and acceptance of all people including LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender) people. We were so welcomed into the crowd in the several hours before we actually started marching in the parade. People thanked us for coming all the way from Wenatchee for the parade.
Along the parade route we passed out beads, temporary tattoos, and candy to the crowd and we got more positive comments and expressions of appreciation for coming all the way from Wenatchee.
On Saturday evening before the parade I was thinking how nice it would be to be able to have a Gay Pride Parade in Wenatchee. And then I thought how difficult and potentially dangerous that would actually be. I see so much around me changing and know that the day is coming, and soon, when my LGBT brothers and sisters will be fully accepted, allowed to marry the person of their choice, and any discrimination will be socially unacceptable. Just like what has happened for African Americans or people in mixed race relationships. But we are not there yet.
That got me thinking about what needs to happen so that in my lifetime we will have a Gay Pride Parade in Wenatchee. The first thing is for people of conscious to speak up, publicly, loudly, and passionately. And I think that the first institutions to do this should be, at least in my mind, religious and/or spiritual institutions that celebrate, in word if not in deed, the inherent worth and dignity of all people.
It has become a passion of mine to help shepherd this into reality in my own church home, the Cascade Unitarian Universalist Fellowship (CUUF). We are starting the process and we are on our way. The Unitarian Universalist Association has a formal program for recognizing congregations that fully welcome and include LGBT people in the life of the church. There is a process to being able to have that designation awarded to a congregation. It will be a time consuming process and one that may, at times, be challenging or difficult. I have already run into a few people who question the need, since they already feel that LGBT people are welcomed at CUUF.
It is not enough to say to each other how tolerant and welcoming and inviting we are. It is a hollow gesture if it is not public and proud. That is one of my primary focuses for the coming year, to shepherd this process into reality.
Perhaps it is fortuitous that I am recently retired and have a little more time on my hands. Perhaps it is the universe affirming my calling to this ministry. Maybe it is just random good luck. In any case, I have a mission and tasks that I understand and appreciate.
There were just eleven of us with the church banner and signs promoting marriage equality, standing on the side of love, and acceptance of all people including LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender) people. We were so welcomed into the crowd in the several hours before we actually started marching in the parade. People thanked us for coming all the way from Wenatchee for the parade.
Along the parade route we passed out beads, temporary tattoos, and candy to the crowd and we got more positive comments and expressions of appreciation for coming all the way from Wenatchee.
On Saturday evening before the parade I was thinking how nice it would be to be able to have a Gay Pride Parade in Wenatchee. And then I thought how difficult and potentially dangerous that would actually be. I see so much around me changing and know that the day is coming, and soon, when my LGBT brothers and sisters will be fully accepted, allowed to marry the person of their choice, and any discrimination will be socially unacceptable. Just like what has happened for African Americans or people in mixed race relationships. But we are not there yet.
That got me thinking about what needs to happen so that in my lifetime we will have a Gay Pride Parade in Wenatchee. The first thing is for people of conscious to speak up, publicly, loudly, and passionately. And I think that the first institutions to do this should be, at least in my mind, religious and/or spiritual institutions that celebrate, in word if not in deed, the inherent worth and dignity of all people.
It has become a passion of mine to help shepherd this into reality in my own church home, the Cascade Unitarian Universalist Fellowship (CUUF). We are starting the process and we are on our way. The Unitarian Universalist Association has a formal program for recognizing congregations that fully welcome and include LGBT people in the life of the church. There is a process to being able to have that designation awarded to a congregation. It will be a time consuming process and one that may, at times, be challenging or difficult. I have already run into a few people who question the need, since they already feel that LGBT people are welcomed at CUUF.
It is not enough to say to each other how tolerant and welcoming and inviting we are. It is a hollow gesture if it is not public and proud. That is one of my primary focuses for the coming year, to shepherd this process into reality.
Perhaps it is fortuitous that I am recently retired and have a little more time on my hands. Perhaps it is the universe affirming my calling to this ministry. Maybe it is just random good luck. In any case, I have a mission and tasks that I understand and appreciate.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
My new storytelling and inspiration blog, Whispering Circles, http://whisperingcircles.blogspot.com/ has been up for just a little over a week and I have gotten such positive feedback from so many people. I am a little surprised, though I don't know why I should be. I have never lacked confidence as a storyteller, even when my career seemed like it was stagnant and I didn't get invited to tell stories at places or events that I thought would be sure to invite me.
Now that I am retired and rethinking this whole professional storyteller thing, because of the gradually increasing difficulty for people to understand what I am saying, I have channeled that energy into writing; including writing these two blogs. I am finding my voice as a writer and it is exciting to discover another way to be a storyteller.
My twenty-two year old daughter Becca amazes me sometimes. She loves Ellen Degeneres and watches the program every day. Becca decided that on our vacation to Southern California in September, it would be fun to get in to see the Ellen Show. So Becca wrote to Ellen about all my health problems and how much fun it would be for all of us to get in to see the Ellen Show and how amazing her parents are and how she would like to do this for her parents. I don't know what, if anything, will come of this. I am sure Ellen gets a lot of requests from people at least as, if not more, deserving than we are, but I am so impressed that Becca came up with an idea and was able to do something about it, all on her own.
This trip that we are planning, in late August and early September, will be my first vacation in over eight years. Our attention has been so focused on doctors and hospitals and insurance and other important medical and/or health related stuff that a true vacation has never even really been considered. Now that I am retired and I no longer have to worry if I have enough annual leave days, we can take a vacation; and I am really looking forward to it.
We are going to stay at one of the time share properties in Oceanside, California. We will be close enough to my favorite niece and nephew who live in the Los Angeles area that we can visit and we have family down there too. My niece and nephew are expecting their second child right about that time so we are hoping to get to be there for the birth of the new one. I am already anticipating that our trip will produce some great stories.
One of things that we plan to do on our trip is to go to Las Vegas for a very special supper. When I was first diagnosed the third person I told was my friend Kathy, who was more like a sister to me. The first person I told was my wife and the second was my friend Chip. Kathy lived with her husband and son in Oceanside California. We had worked together years ago at a homeless shelter in the transitional housing program where families could get the help they need to become independent again. As a matter of fact, I was the one who hired Kathy.
When I called Kathy I told her that I had some news to share with her. She said she needed to tell me something first and told me that she had just recently been diagnosed with non-Hodgekin's lymphoma. That made it easier for me to tell Kathy that I had just been diagnosed with throat cancer.
Kathy and I went through cancer treatment together. We emailed each other almost every day. We shared the miseries of cancer treatment that are hard for anyone who hasn't been through it to appreciate and we talked about grand plans for when we finally got well. One of our grand plans was that when we were finally well, we would meet up in Las Vegas so that we could have supper at Mario Batali's restaurant. Mario is my favorite celebrity chef.
I got better, but Kathy got worse. I managed to go and visit her for a week. When I got there I went straight to the hospital where Kathy was in the process of getting ready for her second bone marrow transplant. I am so thankful that when I walked into the room Kathy was asleep. I had tried to prepare myself so that my face and expression would not betray anything when I saw her, but I don't know how successful I was. Kathy, my dear dear friend, looked worse than I could have imagined. It was a blessing that I got to adjust myself to her appearance before she woke up.
That visit was great. Kathy actually got much better during the course of my visit and was discharged. It was so good for both of us that I got to visit. I hated to leave Kathy, but I was reassured that she was getting better and the bone marrow transplant was going to work this time.
Kathy got her bone marrow transplant after I returned home. Once she got the transplant she couldn't be around anyone except immediate family because of the risk of infection and her own resistance being so low. But we still emailed. Kathy reported to me that her white counts were going up and things looked good, for a while. Then they didn't and one day Lane, Kathy's husband, called and told me that Kathy had died. It was hard on me, especially since my own recovery was going so well.
I thought about making that trip to Las Vegas in memory of and on Kathy's behalf but just couldn't bring myself to do it. Over time though I thought about it and finally just recently decided that this should be something I would do. Of course, now I can't eat or drink anything, but Alice and Becca will get to enjoy the meal and I will get to toast Kathy. I will probably have a glass of wine even though I am not supposed to and it drives my doctors nuts. I never have been all that good with rules.
It is getting sunny around here these days and is warming up. The sun feels good on my skin and I love riding my motorcycle (technically a scooter) in this kind of weather. It is so liberating and exhilerating to ride in nice weather.
I have tasks around the house today. Right now I am doing laundry - the whites. While I am writing this. So, I am multi-tasking. It feels good to me to actually be productivve, which is why I set out this morning to discipline myself to write a new blog entry, even though I didn't think I had anything interesting to say.
The warmer days are just another reminder of my coming vacation. I can't wait. It has been a long time since we, my family and I, have made a trip just for the relaxation and fun of it.
Now that I am retired and rethinking this whole professional storyteller thing, because of the gradually increasing difficulty for people to understand what I am saying, I have channeled that energy into writing; including writing these two blogs. I am finding my voice as a writer and it is exciting to discover another way to be a storyteller.
My twenty-two year old daughter Becca amazes me sometimes. She loves Ellen Degeneres and watches the program every day. Becca decided that on our vacation to Southern California in September, it would be fun to get in to see the Ellen Show. So Becca wrote to Ellen about all my health problems and how much fun it would be for all of us to get in to see the Ellen Show and how amazing her parents are and how she would like to do this for her parents. I don't know what, if anything, will come of this. I am sure Ellen gets a lot of requests from people at least as, if not more, deserving than we are, but I am so impressed that Becca came up with an idea and was able to do something about it, all on her own.
This trip that we are planning, in late August and early September, will be my first vacation in over eight years. Our attention has been so focused on doctors and hospitals and insurance and other important medical and/or health related stuff that a true vacation has never even really been considered. Now that I am retired and I no longer have to worry if I have enough annual leave days, we can take a vacation; and I am really looking forward to it.
We are going to stay at one of the time share properties in Oceanside, California. We will be close enough to my favorite niece and nephew who live in the Los Angeles area that we can visit and we have family down there too. My niece and nephew are expecting their second child right about that time so we are hoping to get to be there for the birth of the new one. I am already anticipating that our trip will produce some great stories.
One of things that we plan to do on our trip is to go to Las Vegas for a very special supper. When I was first diagnosed the third person I told was my friend Kathy, who was more like a sister to me. The first person I told was my wife and the second was my friend Chip. Kathy lived with her husband and son in Oceanside California. We had worked together years ago at a homeless shelter in the transitional housing program where families could get the help they need to become independent again. As a matter of fact, I was the one who hired Kathy.
When I called Kathy I told her that I had some news to share with her. She said she needed to tell me something first and told me that she had just recently been diagnosed with non-Hodgekin's lymphoma. That made it easier for me to tell Kathy that I had just been diagnosed with throat cancer.
Kathy and I went through cancer treatment together. We emailed each other almost every day. We shared the miseries of cancer treatment that are hard for anyone who hasn't been through it to appreciate and we talked about grand plans for when we finally got well. One of our grand plans was that when we were finally well, we would meet up in Las Vegas so that we could have supper at Mario Batali's restaurant. Mario is my favorite celebrity chef.
I got better, but Kathy got worse. I managed to go and visit her for a week. When I got there I went straight to the hospital where Kathy was in the process of getting ready for her second bone marrow transplant. I am so thankful that when I walked into the room Kathy was asleep. I had tried to prepare myself so that my face and expression would not betray anything when I saw her, but I don't know how successful I was. Kathy, my dear dear friend, looked worse than I could have imagined. It was a blessing that I got to adjust myself to her appearance before she woke up.
That visit was great. Kathy actually got much better during the course of my visit and was discharged. It was so good for both of us that I got to visit. I hated to leave Kathy, but I was reassured that she was getting better and the bone marrow transplant was going to work this time.
Kathy got her bone marrow transplant after I returned home. Once she got the transplant she couldn't be around anyone except immediate family because of the risk of infection and her own resistance being so low. But we still emailed. Kathy reported to me that her white counts were going up and things looked good, for a while. Then they didn't and one day Lane, Kathy's husband, called and told me that Kathy had died. It was hard on me, especially since my own recovery was going so well.
I thought about making that trip to Las Vegas in memory of and on Kathy's behalf but just couldn't bring myself to do it. Over time though I thought about it and finally just recently decided that this should be something I would do. Of course, now I can't eat or drink anything, but Alice and Becca will get to enjoy the meal and I will get to toast Kathy. I will probably have a glass of wine even though I am not supposed to and it drives my doctors nuts. I never have been all that good with rules.
It is getting sunny around here these days and is warming up. The sun feels good on my skin and I love riding my motorcycle (technically a scooter) in this kind of weather. It is so liberating and exhilerating to ride in nice weather.
I have tasks around the house today. Right now I am doing laundry - the whites. While I am writing this. So, I am multi-tasking. It feels good to me to actually be productivve, which is why I set out this morning to discipline myself to write a new blog entry, even though I didn't think I had anything interesting to say.
The warmer days are just another reminder of my coming vacation. I can't wait. It has been a long time since we, my family and I, have made a trip just for the relaxation and fun of it.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
A New Blog
In addition to being a husband and father and a reluctantly retired social worker I am a professional storyteller, workshop facilitator, and aspiring inspriational speaker. Or perhaps I should more accurately say I was a professional storyteller, workshop facilitator, and aspiring inspirational speaker. My gradually acquired speech impediment is getting me thinking about this creative aspect of my life and if I can continue with it. I'm not sure how comfortable I am speaking in public anymore and am particularly anxious about taking money for speaking when it can sometimes be difficult to understand what I'm saying.
I have been channeling my storytelling creativity and energy into writing. I have started a book; I have an idea for another book; and I have resurrected this blog. I am also writing a few articles and sermons [it seems more acceptable to speak in public in church].
I was a guest on an internet radio program the other day because I am a storyteller and the hosts thought that it might be interesting to talk to a storyteller. Storytelling is a passion of mine, it is spiritual work for me. I mentioned this blog where people could read my random thoughts and ideas. The hosts were a little surprised that my blog didn't have my stories. That got me thinking, so I have created a brand new blog, Whispering Circles http://whisperingcircles.blogspot.com/
Whispering Circles will be dedicated to stories, folklore, and inspiration. It should be fun and maybe a little inspirational too.
I invite you to visit my new blog and read some of my stories and inspirational thoughts.
I have been channeling my storytelling creativity and energy into writing. I have started a book; I have an idea for another book; and I have resurrected this blog. I am also writing a few articles and sermons [it seems more acceptable to speak in public in church].
I was a guest on an internet radio program the other day because I am a storyteller and the hosts thought that it might be interesting to talk to a storyteller. Storytelling is a passion of mine, it is spiritual work for me. I mentioned this blog where people could read my random thoughts and ideas. The hosts were a little surprised that my blog didn't have my stories. That got me thinking, so I have created a brand new blog, Whispering Circles http://whisperingcircles.blogspot.com/
Whispering Circles will be dedicated to stories, folklore, and inspiration. It should be fun and maybe a little inspirational too.
I invite you to visit my new blog and read some of my stories and inspirational thoughts.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
The Only Constant Is Change
There have been too many changes in my life for comfort. Now I should mention that I believe that confort is vastly overrated. Comfort can become be an insidious way of becoming stagnant and refusing to grow.
Back to me, because this blog is really all about me. Eight years ago I contracted throat cancer even though I had never smoked or used tobacco products. I have survived the cancer and am learning to negotiate the changes that the treatment have produced in my body, mind, and spirit. I lost all of my bottom teeth and now I cannot eat or drink anything. All of my nutrition comes through a tube in my belly.
I thought I was doing fairly well with all of these changes. If not really placidly accepting them, at least I was tolerating them and trying to make the best of the situation. But then time happened and more changes.
The minister at my church, who I just love to death, is leaving us. Also the Church administrator, a very dear friend who is directly responsible for my discovery that I am a storyteller is also leaving. There must be some reasonable limit to the amount and rapidity with which the average person is forced to change ... and I am decidedly below average!
I am a student of Buddhism and one of the tenets by which I try and structure my life is to "be here now." Be present just where I am in this moment, every moment. From that perspective things can start to make sense. Not because there is less change or the change is more pleasant, but because one realizes that everything in temporary and subject to change.
We risk at least as much, if not more, physical, mental, and emotional trauma from cultivating an attitude that resists change and holds on too tenaciously to what is comfortable as we do from experiencing the change itself. We even hold on to that which is harmful, that we know is harmful, just because it is familiar and comfortable.
No growth or progress in this journey happens without change. And from that perspective I may need to admit that change is a good thing and that a lot of change is just a lot of good things. I may need to relinquish my fear of change and embrace the moment, this moment, every moment.
I'll work on that.
Back to me, because this blog is really all about me. Eight years ago I contracted throat cancer even though I had never smoked or used tobacco products. I have survived the cancer and am learning to negotiate the changes that the treatment have produced in my body, mind, and spirit. I lost all of my bottom teeth and now I cannot eat or drink anything. All of my nutrition comes through a tube in my belly.
I thought I was doing fairly well with all of these changes. If not really placidly accepting them, at least I was tolerating them and trying to make the best of the situation. But then time happened and more changes.
The minister at my church, who I just love to death, is leaving us. Also the Church administrator, a very dear friend who is directly responsible for my discovery that I am a storyteller is also leaving. There must be some reasonable limit to the amount and rapidity with which the average person is forced to change ... and I am decidedly below average!
I am a student of Buddhism and one of the tenets by which I try and structure my life is to "be here now." Be present just where I am in this moment, every moment. From that perspective things can start to make sense. Not because there is less change or the change is more pleasant, but because one realizes that everything in temporary and subject to change.
We risk at least as much, if not more, physical, mental, and emotional trauma from cultivating an attitude that resists change and holds on too tenaciously to what is comfortable as we do from experiencing the change itself. We even hold on to that which is harmful, that we know is harmful, just because it is familiar and comfortable.
No growth or progress in this journey happens without change. And from that perspective I may need to admit that change is a good thing and that a lot of change is just a lot of good things. I may need to relinquish my fear of change and embrace the moment, this moment, every moment.
I'll work on that.
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