WHITE CARPET : RED STAIN.

                    

Saturday. I woke up this morning with an image in my mind that won’t go away.  So I thought if I gave it a voice it may have more to teach me. It has to do with my personal journey through domestic violence. It was certainly not a journey that I planned for myself, but once the engine pulled out of the station, picking up speed ~ it was hard to jump off the train.

I have spent the past few months working on a piece of “unfinished business” that bubbled to the surface through a series of seemingly unrelated events. Actually it was brought to my attention by my life coach who listened to me ramble on about the random chaos of my life;  a disappointing experience with my male housemate, patchy communication with my son, and yet .. forever optimistic …. my desire for a new relationship. Yes, I believe I am finally ready.

It was she who finally named the elephant in the room. With her help I have been looking at my relationships with the men in my life ~~ from the very beginning to the present. It has been interesting and sometimes painful; sorting through what is important, what needs to be transformed, and what needs to be let go. 

This morning’s vision was a red stain on white carpet.  It was curious and when I stepped back I saw a scene unfold before me.  I was in a living room ~ and I knew it was my living room although I have never lived in a house with white carpet. Someone had spilled dark red wine. They apologized profusely and even as I quickly found things to mop up the mess I was assuring them that it was alright, that everything would be all right.  But I was lying.  I knew the carpet was ruined and would never be the same again. I had the carpet professionally cleaned and the spot looked like it really had disappeared. But by that evening, after the workmen had left, the carpet began to dry and stain popped out again. And every time the carpet was cleaned the spot faded away a little more, until it was so slight that only I knew it was there. Maybe it isn’t really there anymore! Can you see it?  Maybe I only see it because I remember where it happened.

That is what domestic violence feels like. There were many stains …. but it was such a long, long time ago.  I cleaned and cleaned that damn carpet. I even sat a coffee table over the top and could walk right by without even thinking about it.  I thought the stain had finally disappeared … but here it is again. This is what unfinished business looks like.  

Of course there are elements of forgiveness ~ for myself and others.

But what about wiping the slate clean and forgetting all about it. Is that the answer? Is it even realistic? Does time heal all wounds? For me, the answer is “Yes, but” … which quietly dissolves into “No, not really.” 

And so here is where I am today. I realize that stain happened a long time ago to a young girl who had few skills and very little protection. But today I am a very different person. My forgiveness, offered many years ago, is still sincere. What to do next? I booked an energy session with a friend to clear and remove blocked and harmful energy patterns that no longer serve me. I have studied hard, learned many things, yet often stopped to smell the roses. I know honest lovely men, most of them married to dear friends of mine, but I enjoy their company and know there are more men out there like them. Today I walk with my head up, laugh easily, and am surrounded by friends I can trust to be there for me.

I believe the white carpet is my own young innocence. The "red" stain is the anger I felt deeply and never fully acknowledged. Stains happen, so do miracles.  Talking with a qualified coach and receiving energy work allowed me to move through the process with much more understanding; deeper and quicker and with more direction. 

And I know now that I can choose to pull the cord, stop the train and step off, thusly … moving forward with grace.                                    Blessed be.                                            

A Tall Feathered Tale

Sometimes things happen when you least expect it and they can totally turn your day around. This was one of those times.

I was driving down Sugarloaf Mountain Road thinking about the state of my affairs, which, if I had any thing to say about them, would be substantially different ~ Way Better ~ to be more specific. I came around a corner and what I saw before me was too weird to be true.

There was a man on a bicycle, moving rather slowly as he was pedaling  up   a steep incline. And running beside him was a long legged turkey.

I was shocked silly!

I pumped my brake pedal.

The turkey looked very tall;

the man looked very unhappy.

 

I rolled down my window and leaned out to get a better look. The poor man was trying to pedal even as the bird viciously pecked at him.  I casually asked him if this was his pet turkey. He had a hard time talking but he squawked something like, “this damn bird is trying to kill me!”

As I slowed my car beside them, the turkey was loudly vocal and partially threw out his tail feathers into a fan.  He was dark brown, wild, and rather trim, apparently from jogging.  He appeared to be much more in control than his opponent ~ gobbling, fanning and pecking at the poor fellow !

 

The gentleman biker had grey hair under his little helmet, and shiny black bike shorts that fit tightly on his upper thighs leaving the rest of his poor leg exposed. I feel quite confident in assuming he had no idea when he dressed that day that he would be fending off,  or racing against,  a rabid running turkey.

Lest you think I am being unfair to the biker, he outweighed the bird by 150 pounds at least, and I will confess, under different circumstances, I would have found them both equally attractive specimens.

 

I wanted to yell some encouraging words to the man on the bike but I was struggling not to laugh out loud. It was tough; I was choking up as I wiped tears from my eyes.

 

As I slowly rolled down the road, the scene in my rear view mirror was so comical I nearly wet my pants. That long legged turkey ran beside the bike in a dead heat.

I believe the fellow was trying to throw a kick at the bird without losing momentum. The turkey, displaying a much keener sense of physical prowess and never missing a stride, would expand his tail feathers and then pull them back into a neat bundle.

 

I know it is cliché, but seriously,

the last thing I heard as I rolled around the next curve

was the man screaming curses

to which the turkey answered with a long gobble.

 

 

No matter what is going on in my life,

I would rather be the turkey than the biker.

Archives

August 25, 2009

 

COMFORTABLE WITH “UNCOMFORTABLE”

Learning to be comfortable with being uncomfortable. 

This is a major life lesson for me that I have been peeling away, like layers of the proverbial onion, for many years.  Like an onion, the pure essence of it often brings me to tears and yet I know that if I persevere, render it to smaller pieces, then apply heat with a dollop of soothing oil, a transformation will occur ~ a softening ~ as the pungency caramelizes before my very eyes and is now a sweet concoction that will enhance any recipe that it is added to.

I have rushed the process and ended up with a smoky, bitter mess. And all you can do now is clean up the mess and begin again. One time, when the experiment had gone too far awry, I threw away the ruined pan and left the kitchen.  It may have seemed like the only answer at the time, but in the end it left me hungry.

I am ready to try again; gonna need more onions.

The EGCM 1st Annual Summit

What a marvelous week-end for a coming together of like-minded souls. The Equine Gestalt Coaching Method TM herd was 27 strong beautiful women + our beloved coach Bob.  The weather was fantastic, sunny and bright as the ideas that were shared; the air as clean and crisp as the topics discussed. As cliché as it sounds, I had to write those words, for they are my truth. It was great to be with the women that I have met already on this journey; to stay in touch with one another is important to me. And to meet the new women coming in, to learn the faces that go with the voices that I have been hearing on class calls.

Friday afternoon, we graduates set up our booths in the hallway of the barn and shared stories. It always feels good to be back in this barn, a place where so much growth and transformation has transpired.  Melisa called us all to order and we shared a social hour of cheese cake and coffee.

Saturday morning came pretty quickly, I must admit. I got dressed, fed the critters, drank a cup of coffee, took my shears and basket out to the yard and collected some herbs, and headed back the 35 minute journey to Little Bit North Ranch. I was excited to participate in whatever came my way this day.  The break out session with all of us who have Peggy as a coach was fascinating to me. I had gone prepared to do a greeting ritual, but learned that Ashara had something planned so I slipped easily into Plan “B” which ended up being a wonderful experience for me.  Melisa is always touting my herbal back ground in our class calls and yet I was having a difficult time weaving my passion for herbs with my passion for horses.  I gestalted a little talk about the three plants I had brought with me and then opened it up to the group as to how I could integrate the two.  And as we shared ideas, I did gain insight and it was so much fun. I want to thank costmary, motherwort and mugwort (Artemisia) for accompanying this day and playing their part so beautifully.

As I drove away towards home Sunday, I was thankful again to have found this program, for my determination to see it through, and I could feel the excitement of this adventure as it coursed through my weary body. The first summit was an inspiring success and I came away with new skill sets to play with and the determination to continue learning. I am at the beginning of a new adventure, with an urgent desire to learn new ways of walking beside a horse; to deepen my love and to honor these sentient beings.  When I stand in their presence I am lifted up ~ they give me inspiration and hope for the future. I am outrageously blessed.

A Heart’s Knowing

( our prompt was to  write about what we know in our heart to be true ..... and these were my thoughts.....)

Every day I get up and try to be the best human being I can be.  When I fall down on this mission, I pull myself up, dust off the debris, and start again.  Sometimes it is hard to look morning in the face.  Other days I am so full of love and joy that I almost ache.

I know that unconditional love is a reality, but it is a challenge as well.  To hold your heart open to someone, illuminating them with all the love light that you can generate, even as they do or say hurtful things, is so hard.  I know that my grandma and grandpa loved me unconditionally, all of the time.  I have often wondered if my son would say the same.  I know that I have come closer to pouring out unconditional love to him than to any other human on the planet.  At least for the longest amount of time, over twenty four years of loving that boy.  This past week-end he called from his home in Florida and left me the sweetest message.  He said that he saw a shooting star in the night sky and thought of me.  I still have his message saved on my phone so that I can listen to it one more time.

I know in my heart that dirt is good. I love putzing with plants and playing in their dirt.  I love gardening and plan on starting a very small garden this year ~ pole beans on tipis, butternut squash, tomatoes, and some greens ~ especially arugula.  Very small, manageable, could be added onto in the future, but reasonable for this first year.  In the old days I used to flippantly describe certain people as  “Dumb as dirt”.  I no longer say that….it is unfair and I am embarrassed by that.  I love dirt too much.

I know in my heart that I love horses.  Going out and feeding my horse, even going out to scoop poop, makes me feel better.  I love the way horses smell.  There is a freshness, a sweetness about them that only those who have smelled it know about. Although I love setting by the window and watching the horses play ~ I love that horses get me outdoors.  I tell Lakota many things.  I went out last January and the wind had whipped her mane into a tangled mess ~ a series of gnarly dreadlocks that stormy fingers had woven into an ugly mat.  I looked at it and started crying.  I thought about going inside and getting the scissors and just cutting it out.  It was too much and it looked impossible.  I had no tolerance.  I had just hung up the phone from talking with my mom.  They found more cancer in my Dad.  So here I stood in the cold sunshine beside my beautiful horse.  I set down her comb and started at the bottom ~ with my fingers I began to unwind the clumpy mess.  Sobbing, sometimes barely able to see what I was doing, I felt my way through it.  By the time I had finished I had stopped crying.  I was proud of myself for saving her gorgeous mane.  I marveled at her patience, for standing there and being with me in my grief.  She is such an amazing animal, my sister, my witness and my friend.

I know that I have far to go in realizing my full potential as a spiritual being living in this human form on this material plane.  I keep hearing the words from my last astrology reading, “Do you trust that what you need will come?  Do you trust that?”  And my heart soars and I yell out “YES, yes…I trust that what I need will come!” 

Every cell in my body chooses Love; love for my family, love for horses and dirt, the flowers and weeds that I’ve met this lifetime (you know who you are) and cherry tomatoes warmed by the sun.

In my heart, I trust Love. 

                   reprinted from "A Week's Worth of Women", Edited by Jyoti Wind, 2008