DECADE DEVA'S

(( assignment:   tell us something about yourself in third person ))

She found that facing her 60^th birthday was more of a challenge than she had anticipated:

                at 20 – she didn’t know it yet but in a few short months she would drop out of university and follow her heart to Colorado,

                at 30 – she had just given birth to her son, one of the greatest gifts she would ever receive,

                at 40 – she had married Bob three days before and on her birthday she lay naked on a private beach in Big Sur, drinking champagne – her one and only nude beach experience,

                50 – had found her in a Kansas City hospital’s ICU praying for her father who had been recessitated seven times after dying on Highway 71 near Harrisonville, Missouri,

                now 60 – what would it bring?  What’s it all about <Alfie>?  What will change?  She had been playing with a new hair-do and had found a most-perfect bobby pin to hold her long hair up off her neck.  For several years she had considered getting a really, really short haircut when she was older;  was it time?

What she was ready for was a relationship. She was really, really ready and had been putting in requests with the angels of amore. This was her first decade birthday without a man by her side.    Twenty = Colorado Jessie.    Thirty = Steve, 1^st husband.    Forty  = Bob,  husband #2.    Fifty = Victor, ah, sweet Victor,   and now Sixty  = zilch, da nada, no testosterone in her life, her bed empty.  Would having a man in her life have made the whole idea more palatable?  Quite frankly, probably it would have, especially a “new” romance.  Ah well ……

She drove to Liquor Mart to buy two bottles of champagne for her birthday garden party. It goes so well with pineapple upside down cake = sweet pleasures.  Thank the goddess, some things will never change. 

Decade Deva’s live on !!

Fried Oatmeal

I ate fried oatmeal for breakfast this morning.  I didn’t aim to but that is what happens when my  mind thought about turning off the stove and my body didn’t follow through.  (And it is partly because I have a gosh darn electric range/oven instead of a good old gas range.  Flames hold my attention, warm red circles covered by a pot, do not.  However I have written about this before and don’t want to belabor the point or bore you or myself … moving on …)

Fried oatmeal is a symbol of having so many things to do that I can hardly relax enough to do only one thing at a time. Some things get overlooked, forgotten, or tucked far away “for future consideration”  and my all-time favorite category:  “to-be-thought-about-later-when-I-have-more-time”.  HA!

I feel better when I have (1) one load of laundry in the washing machine, (2) one load of clean clothes in the dryer, (3) meatloaf, potatoes and apples baking in the oven … while  (4) I set at my computer and pound out another appraisal report.  Now that is how to “get ‘er done”!!

Better …. or more productive?

The paradox is how much more efficient I am when I am busy. Or is that an illusion?  I think I am.

Therefore I am ?

How to be a Better Human 101 ... cont... again ....

In the past I have jokingly described my spiritual journey as “How to be a Better Human 101”, placing myself in the freshman class with wide-eyed enthusiasm and an unchecked willingness to experience it all. My goal with every semester is to discern the teachings and assimilate universal wisdom.

For the past two years I have decided to up the ante; sometimes advancing with baby steps, sometimes falling on my bum, but encouraged by the brilliant rays of understanding that sometimes break through the clouds.  My teachers are the horses and those two-legged beings that speak through them, to them and with them.  Completing Melisa Pearce’s program, EGCM, Equine Gestalt Coaching Method was a dream come true; it has been nothing short of amazing.  

My self-study curriculum remains challenging, as on-going lessons should, with several mid-course corrections required, and I ride the roller coaster of accomplishment, failure, self-doubt and joy with utter amazement.  This past week-end’s training with Anna Twinney (Reach Out to Horses) was HUGE.  Surrounded once again by humans and horses I stepped into the arena. 

"I want to open you up.” Anna’s words are still ringing in my ears.  I have a very uncomfortable vision of an old fashioned manual can opener lying beside a tin of sardines, split open via a ragged wound, sharp and possibly dangerous. Worth diving into if you happen to like sardines, but proceed with caution, it is to be handled with care.

This Monday morning I take stock.

Physically, I am beat up, things hurt when I move, a temporary un-comfort-able-ness.

Spiritually, I am standing at yet another precipice, wondering how to get across.

Mentally, I know that we have stood in front of different obstacles before and have eventually figured them out. I take comfort in the absolute knowledge that I have tremendous teachers, marvelous mentors and friendly faces to guide me, stand beside me, and encourage me.

The horses stand out in their pasture, absolutely aware while appearing to dream contentedly in their own little world. But as every thing in the universe is connected, we too are connected. They accept their day, knowing that this journey is my own, but still mindful of my progress.

It will be what it will be. I am not sure where we are going but excited for the journey to unfold.

Full Moon. June 3, 2012

I sit in gratitude in the stillness of my back yard,

turning to glimpse the full moon cloaked by the heavy atmosphere

through the trimmed branches of  the enormous elm tree that my son has been

trimming and shaping for months;  cutting away all the dead and useless branches.

The tree remains over forty feet tall, one of the largest in our neighborhood.

The healthy limbs have now leafed out and look vibrant and happy.

On this full moon I wish the same for myself.

To trim away all the useless thoughts and limiting beliefs that make me dull and heavy.

Release and let go. 

I sit and watch the moon weave through this ancient tree.

I give thanks.

BENDING NEEDLES.

I didn’t notice my mouth was dry until I tried to swallow.  “I need to drink a glass of water as soon I get this done,” I thought to myself as I opened the large blue tote and rummaged through it quickly.  I found a huge 20 mm syringe and I was looking for the green color-coded needle.  I looked over several glass bottles with rubber topped closures and found the one named Flunazine.  I set my phone to the speaker setting so that Nikki could walk me though the set-up. We had gone through the whole routine last fall, but in the months that followed the knowledge had left my noggin.

I set everything gently on the table in front of me and examined each component as she told me again how they were going to fit together.  We had decided that I was going to give the medicine orally because if given IM (intramuscularly) it could, on a rare occasion, cause a deep infection.  Nikki wasn’t going to be home for three or four more days and I was not at all prepared to handle that scenario. 

“Do you feel at all comfortable trying to hit a vein? “ she asked me.

“Absolutely not” I chortled, “I would rather try and give her an enema. “  Might as well bring a bit of humor to the situation.

 “If you want to call Dr. Tim I am fine with that” she said again.

“No, No, I think that I can do this. I am right here, she needs it quickly. I want to give it a try.” I hoped I sounded more confident than I felt.

My patient was Ruthie, an 1800 pound white mule. She is to Nikki what Lakota is to me. I had to get this right.  “Listen, I am going to go now and put this all together. I’ll call you back when I ‘m done.”  All of the shots I had ever given before were pre-made, all you had to do was point and shoot so to speak.

I fit the needle onto the syringe and then inserted it into the rubber gasket on top of the bottle. Holding the bottle upside down with one hand I tried to pull out the plunger.  Geez, why does this have to be so difficult? I felt really clumsy and it was taking a lot more strength than I thought was necessary. But I kept at it gently so I wouldn’t make a mess of anything.  Humm, is the top of the plunger  10mm, or is it marked by the bottom of the grey piece. I decided more was better than less, we are talking about a big girl out there and she might spit some out. 

Okay, that was almost fun; now I have to take the needle out so that I can shoot this into her mouth. The needle looked scary - it was huge, built for a rhinoceros or something.  Does it pull out or twist out? I tried it with my fingers and nothing moved. I took it upstairs and pulled out two pair of pliers. I had a sterile needle here which I really wasn’t going to use but still I wrapped it in a paper towel before I grabbed it with the pliers. Nothing moved. Well, actually it did, the needle was now bent at approximately a 65 degree angle, which I promptly capped and discarded.

Humm, I surveyed the whole set-up again and decided that even if the needle had came out of the hard plastic it was embedded in, the aperture would be too small to squirt the liquid in as fast as I was planning to.

As I walked out to the pasture I prayed to Ruthie’s angels as well as mine. “Please be with us and let this go smoothly.”  I took a deep breath as Ruthie came into view.  She was still laying down which is what caught my eye in the first place. I didn’t want to spook her so I did not walk straight at her, but aimed for a few feet behind her tail. It would be much easier for me if I could give her the medicine while she lying down – did I mention that she was a big girl? Oh yeah.

She raised her head and looked at me, and thought for a second about standing up, but then she didn’t.   I reached out and rubbed her neck and told her I was going to give her some medicine as gently as I could. I kneeled beside her giant neck and moved slowly and deliberately, careful not to tip the syringe because I didn’t want her to get a taste of what was coming before I was ready. Her lips were clinched but I worked the tube in as far as I thought necessary and then I hit that plunger hard, probably faster than I needed to - but got the job done.  I stroked her neck and thanked her for being still.  She pulled back her front lip and curled her head in the air. 

“Hey,” I told her, “I had to take red root tincture myself yesterday, three times, and that stuff tastes wicked too. You can handle this.” 

I stood up and moved away from her. I suddenly realized I had forgotten to put on the halter that I carried out. Oh well, we hadn’t needed it after all. I reached for my phone to call Nikki and let her know that it had gone well. Whew. We discussed what I should do for the next twenty minutes and I could hear her relief.  We had both been worried that Ruthie would put up a fuss and it could have gone badly, but it didn’t. I suddenly realized that I still needed water. I walked back to the house feeling a lot better than when I walked out to the pasture.  Everything is going to be fine, I just know it!

GOING CRAZY &/or PEACE OF MIND

I am both exquisitely happy and excruciatingly sad. Mad even. The difference between the two is driving me crazy. On one level I want everyone to find the joy and happiness that I desire for myself. I have a vision that includes a loving partner, a peaceful home, monetary stability, a deep love and connection with the universe and, last and maybe mostly, love of self.

My dear friend is in the throes of new lust. I want her to be happy and find the right fellow and settle down to a rich and meaningful life, filled with more joy than sorrow.  With all my heart I desire this for her.

At the same time my sanctuary has been violated. My friend and I share the same little farm house and now nothing feels as sweet to me as it did.  He has been here a month; if he paid rent would I be more accepting? When I said he could visit, I didn’t mean that he could move in. It feels like they are two against my one-ness. Her new love makes my life seem emptier than before, I feel dull and flat.  I don’t do well with dull and flat.  It isn’t where I normally reside and it is NO FUN !!!

In the beginning I made him out to be the villain. It was his fault that my life was turned into such chaos. It was so much easier to make him the “bad guy”.  My resentment was off the charts …. it lept tall buildings of the mind’s imagination and colored my life with drab colors of piss-offed-ness. My little world had been invaded and the enemy had no awareness of the depth of my despair. So I showed them. Passive aggressive behavior came back into my life, as easily as it had disappeared with the divorce decree of many years ago. However, the infinitesimal sparks of joy that came with a well thrust imaginary dagger were overwhelmed by excruciating sadness.

And I know. 

They are not the enemy. The battle is once again, always, within me. The situation is yet another way of showing me that I have more work to do. I have much at stake here. I could be on the brink of ruining a dear friendship and it is this thought that propels me to dive deep into the lesson. My house is my sanctuary. My friend is my friend. Sweet as it has been, I always knew that our sharing of this space was temporary. Communication could definitely be better between us but that probably won’t happen until I get to a more accepting place. Her new love is a gift that I wish for myself but not to the extent of their happiness. I desire to be the kind of friend that I want my friends to be to me. A prescription for valium would be appreciated right now, just to take the “sting” out of the situation. I need a stronger mantra …. mine is not sufficiently cutting through the crap of this moment. Once again I turn to my angels and ask for guidance, wisdom, peace of mind ……. Ahhhh, peace of mind. If this cannot be found within, it will never be available in the outer world.

I know.

TROUBLE?

 I woke up way too early this morning.  I plugged myself into a CD to try and get back to sleep but that really didn’t work very well.  I had a serious case of “monkey-mind” that refused to be stilled.  As I lay there I had the thought that I could pour a bath and soak in the healing water as I listened to my CD. And so I did.

In the bath I questioned the partially bruised big toe of my right foot.  It isn’t bad enough to lose the toenail, but I have no idea what happened to it … seems weird.  I broke that toe five or six years ago. I was winter riding with some friends and I stepped my dear horse off the path onto what appeared to be dirt, but was really an icy patch that the wind had blown dirt over. Lakota slipped and in what felt like slow-motion - fell to her side. My friends told me it actually looked very graceful.  But I did not get my leg out of the stirrup in time and she landed on my leg. It didn’t seem like that big of a deal until my toe started throbbing and then I knew we had done some damage.  It was interesting how that fall has come back to me so many times; stepped off the path, time slowed down, falling and falling, things not what they looked like, the right side of my body gets hurt again … ????

The bubble bath was a great way to start the day. Laying there barely aware of the window getting brighter with the coming dawn.  Soaking in the warmth, the water, the bubbles and listening to the gentle voice of one of my teachers on the CD, letting her drown out my mind. 

For you, dear reader, do not know the problem that woke me up at 4:28 am with such fierceness.  Is there a fall in front of me? Will time slow down for me?  Will I have the ability to get my foot out of the stirrup in time to stave off hurtful consequences?  At least I will bring more awareness to this situation and I pray for the grace and beauty and wisdom to stand on the edge of the precipice and be guided through it without any one getting bruised or battered. That is my prayer for this day.