Foreign Exchange Student Experience

This is a post I wrote many months ago--February or March 2024--but never posted. 

Since Dale's cancer diagnosis and subsequent treatments, he has slowed down considerably, and I've been spending much more time at home.  I miss our days of travel, of eating out, and simply going and doing all kinds of things.  Many of these activities are still available to me but I feel the need to keep close to home.  So, I've been getting bored with not much to do although I do keep busy.  Something felt missing and I couldn't quite figure it out.  So I started to pay attention to what might fill the void I was feeling, what might I do to feel more engaged with life in general, what good could I do to benefit myself and just maybe, help someone else on this journey through life.  It came to me one day while reading the paper--an advertisement for hosting a foreign exchange student, an idea that had never once entered my mind.  I thought about it a lot and contacted an organization that pairs host families with foreign exchange students.  I made it perfectly clear that we were not a traditional American family, we were two elderly gay men with a dog and two cats.  Surprisingly, the organization I contacted is very LGBTQ+ friendly with a strong belief and practice of embracing diversity, accepting people of all races, all cultures, all genders.  This was news to me, so I moved forward with our application, still feeling very uncertain about all this but knowing that I was not yet making a committment but rather researching and learning about all that's involved.  I latched on to AFS Intercultural Programs USA and put in my application.  An extensive background check was performed, a home visit and interviews were conducted, and of course a mountain of paperwork, references required, and so on.  After a while I began receiving bios of students from a variety of foreign countries, and clearly many were not a match but there were some that I thought might work.  But then I received a bio from a young man from Thailand, and his writing was simply brilliant, funny, very frank and very interesting.  How could a young man from Thailand have such mastery of the English language?  I was more than intrigued and even though the organization seemed to be promoting other suggestions, I was subtly insistent that I wanted to keep the Thai student on the list of potential possibilities.  And so it came to pass that we were approved to be his host family and he accepted us and we finally connected via Facebook, email, What's App, etc.  He is with us now and we simply adore him.  Somewhat unimaginable that a 16 year old heterosexual teenager would find us to be the near perfect host home for him and vice versa.  We enrolled him in Dripping Springs High School and he says he loves it.  He has now joined the local YMCA and is working on transforming his body as well as immersing himself in American culture.  All of his holidays will be celebrated with us and our friends and family and he will not go home until the end of his 10 month tenure here with us.  So far, the connection has been filled with intriguing coincidences.  There is magic in the air now and I cannot imagine what it will be like when he leaves.  Each moment is a joy, with of course all the expected sorrows and minor conflicts.  Such is the way of engaging with others.  

On December 13th, we were totally shocked to learn that for reasons not given, it was decided by his family (his parents, most likely his mother) that he was to be rehomed.  Both Dale and I were in total shock about this and talked about how shocked and disappointment our student would be when he found out that this inexplicable decision had been made without any communication whatsoever with us about the how, when, where, or why of this.  When I picked up our student after his gym class and told him that he would soon see that Dale and I were very sad for reasons we could discuss later, he let me know that he knew exactly what I was talking about.  In other words, he was in on the behind our backs discussion about moving him to another, as yet undesignated, home.  The organization that we worked with told me they had as yet found no family to host him.  Why in the world would he be rehomed to another home that had not yet been found?  Over and over again I heard that host families in the US were in extremely, unprecedented short supply.  It has now been 6 weeks since he left and the mystery behind his leaving has been very slow to unfold and reveal itself as he and his family have communicated absolutely nothing to us about this decision, and the organization said that they could not overrule the legal parents.  It can be best be understood by studying Mary Ainsworth's Attachment Theory, which has been proven over and over again to be a valid assessment of the various relationships between a child and his/her parents.  In this case, his mother.  If you imagine a triangle with three angles occupied by myself, our student, and his mother, and you are aware of the dynamic at play, it is easy to understand how and why this decision to rehome him occurred.  Firstly, he and I formed a deep connection and a strong bond as a result of endless conversations and a wide range of activities.  Additionally, we were able to provide him with things that were not possible for his mother.  But far more importantly, his mother wanted to be an integral part of his experience and she happens to be a rather strong personality with a strong, 17 year old bond with her son, and she wants to be the one in charge of everything.  This kind of connection between a mother and son is not unusual, but when a student becomes an exchange student and comes to live with a family in the US, that student is to immerse himself/herself in the American culture, become a member of the hosting family and their holiays, traditions, etc, and detach himself/herself from both his family and his country of origin.  When I decided, with the support of the organization that his contact with his family was excessive and intrustive, and should be limited to about an hour or two a week, as is recommended by all foreign exchange organizations, everyone agreed with this.  However, his mother continued to interact with him in various ways on social media platforms which he felt he needed to hide from us.  In other words, he was being pulled in one direction by his controlling mother, and he was being pulled in another directions by me, and I did not want to engage with his mother as I found her personality to be quite distasteful--aggressive, passive-aggressive, narcissistic, controlling, and superficial.  When our student interacted with his mother, which often got filmed and posted on social media by her, you could see her talking non-stop while he lay there looking like a young child whose duty it was to be totally obedient to his mother.  He was being pulled apart by both myself and his mother.  Basically, I wanted to be the sole parent for this 10 month period and I could not find the energy or the desire to have his mother along for the ride.  It is really quite sad and tragic all around.  All of this pulling had a negative effect on our student causing him a great deal of anxiety, forcing him to chose his mother or me, as the circumstances would not allow for both so long as he was under my guardianship.  And of course he chose his mother, as he really had no choice.  Fortunately he was able to be rehomed through a high school friend and gets to finish out the year here in Dripping Springs with a very nice family, and for this I am greatly relieved and happy for him.  Unfortunately, all this and because of my profound attachment to him, forced me to go to inappropriate lengths to try and get him back.  I simply could not let go without a fight and for all that I am truly sorry, but my actions were coming from my heart.  He has now severed all communication between us which is actually for the best, and I am working with a highly qualified therapist who is helping me understand all this and the next step will be for me to learn to let go.  I have experienced weeks of deep sadness and grief.  This is good.  I have learned a lot about others and myself.  

 There are many books written on the topic of grief, but experiencing it may be very different from person to person depending on a variety of variables.  For some reason, of late, I have found myself feeling a deep sadness over the loss of my dog, Mikio, a rehomed Shiba Inu I adopted from Shiba Inu Rescue of Texas, Austin chapter.  I adopted him when he was 2 months shy of 7 years of age, and he died 2 months shy of his 16th birthday.  I created an altar in his memory composed of a painting of him, his ashes in a Raku Urn, his paw print, a vial of his hair, and a blown up favorite photo.  When one has a deep, loving attachment to a pet, it is hard to let go, and the best way to do this, in my opinion, is to allow yourself to feel everything that comes up no matter what or when or how.  I think there is a fine line between healing grief and wallowing in the sadness of loss and lingering there.  I think I'm guilty of both.  He died on April 8 of 2022.  A few days ago I heard a song titled Memories by Maroon 5 and it brought back a tsunami of memories of Mikio along with a heart felt longing to hold him and have him by my side. Such deep sadness I have felt, again.  I have created a photo album of hundreds of photos plus I have many videos of him that I can watch.  What I cannot do is hold him, touch him, take him on walks, be with him.  This is what I miss the most.  His presence.  Alas, he is gone forever, which will happen to each and every living thing on earth.  Dogs are such wonderful companions.  I now have a beautiful, loving 18 month old Golden Retriever that I got months before Mikio crossed the rainbow bridge so I wouldn't have to go without a dog companion.  I love him dearly, named him Bodhi, and adopted him as a 7 week old puppy.  About 2 years before his death, Mikio began showing signs of dementia, known as Canine Cognitive Dysfunction (CCD) which is quite similar to Alzheimer's in humans.  It progresses slowly, and there are many medications that help with the symptoms, but there is no cure.  It just marches on and over time they begin to forget, and forget more and more.  Along with this devastating deterioration of the brain, there is also the many problems that come with aging--partial loss of sight, of hearing, arthritis, vertigo, and more, different for each dog.  Typically one observes a loss of maneuverability, heightened fear and anxiety.  They often get stuck in corners and cannot figure out how to get out.  They forget which side of the door they need to come to in order to exit or enter the house.  They tend to pace for hours after the sun goes down, and will often pace until they are exhausted.  They forget how to ask to go outside to urinate or defecate, and will simply go wherever they are, unaware they are inside the house.  I took up all of our area rugs and sent them to Deep Eddy for cleaning, and then put them in storage.  I cleaned and mopped up accidents in the house for a year and developed a hard callus on my hand.  Because Mikio was such a loyal and dignified dog, I inexplicably never lost any patience with these exhausting tasks.  We all just coped as best as we could.  He continued sleeping on his pallet at the side of my bed except for those times when he could not find it and would drop down from exhaustive pacing most anywhere in the house where he wandered for hours most nights.  Back and forth, back and forth, endlessly.  I wore earplugs which allowed me to sleep.  If he got into trouble, he would whine loudly and I would hear him and get up and assist in any way I could.  It often seemed as though he was trying to walk through the walls of the house.  He was truly a beautiful dog and was showered with compliments everywhere we went.  He did reach the point in his life where quite often I would have to carry him outside and standing became very difficult.  In the final days of his life, he could not get up at all on his own, but once I stood him up, he could manage to stand albeit awkwardly.  It was so sad to watch the progression of this disease.  On his last day we gathered together outside on the grass.  It was a beautiful day.  The vet arrived and administered the meds needed to peacefully help him pass over.  An employee of the crematorium arrived and wrapped him in a beautiful purple blanket and I carried him to the back of the van. 

Memories

Song by Maroon 5

Here's to the ones that we got
Cheers to the wish you were here, but you're not
'Cause the drinks bring back all the memories
Of everything we've been through
Toast to the ones here today
Toast to the ones that we lost on the way
'Cause the drinks bring back all the memories
And the memories bring back, memories bring back you

There's a time that I remember, when I did not know no pain
When I believed in forever, and everything would stay the same
Now my heart feel like December when somebody say your name
'Cause I can't reach out to call you, but I know I will one day, yeah

Everybody hurts sometimes
Everybody hurts someday, ayy ayy
But everything gon' be alright
Go and raise a glass and say, ayy

Here's to the ones that we got
Cheers to the wish you were here, but you're not
'Cause the drinks bring back all the memories
Of everything we've been through
Toast to the ones here today
Toast to the ones that we lost on the way
'Cause the drinks bring back all the memories
And the memories bring back, memories bring back you

Doo doo, doo doo doo doo
Doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo
Doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo
Memories bring back, memories bring back you

There's a time that I remember when I never felt so lost
When I felt all of the hatred was too powerful to stop (ooh, yeah)
Now my heart feel like an ember and it's lighting up the dark
I'll carry these torches for ya that you know I'll never drop, yeah

Everybody hurts sometimes
Everybody hurts someday, ayy ayy
But everything gon' be alright
Go and raise a glass and say, ayy

Here's to the ones that we got (oh)
Cheers to the wish you were here, but you're not
'Cause the drinks bring back all the memories
Of everything we've been through (no, no)
Toast to the ones here today (ayy)
Toast to the ones that we lost on the way
'Cause the drinks bring back all the memories (ayy)
And the memories bring back, memories bring back you

Doo doo, doo doo doo doo
Doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo
Doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo
Memories bring back, memories bring back you
Doo doo, doo doo doo doo
Doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo
Doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo (ooh, yeah)
Memories bring back, memories bring back you

Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, doh, doh
Memories bring back, memories bring back you

Source: LyricFind

Songwriters: Adam Levine / Jacob Hindlin / Jonathan Bellion / Jordan Johnson / Michael Pollack / Stefan Johnson / Vincent Ford

Memories lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc

Yesterday at the park there was a four foot rat snake in an oak tree, and two guys, dressed all in black, were taking photos of him.  They called me over as Mikio and I were passing and I identified the snake, with some certainty, as a rat snake.  It was an interesting event, and I wondered why both of these young men were dressed in black shirts, black slacks, black shoes.  They were quite friendly and I was picking up a good, positive vibe.  Other strangers wandered by briefly and made attempts to identify the snake.  I stayed for a while as I didn't want anyone to come along and tease, bother, or possibly kill this non-poisonous snake that is good to have around.  Eventually he climbed higher into the tree and disappeared and I felt it was okay to leave.  One of the guys was a seminarian at a local catholic church, St. Martin de Porres, and he encouraged me to attend mass.  The other guy was a visiting friend.  During these days of self-imposed sheltering at home, it was nice to have face to face encounters with other folks, even though I wore a mask the whole time.  They did not. 

Prior to this pandemic, I found myself being rushed to St. David's hospital were I stayed for 3 days awaiting a diagnosis.  Blood was taken every four hours around the clock, heart tests were performed, various specialists were called in.  My red and white blood cell count was very low as was my hemoglobin.  I was given a blood transfusion that didn't seem to help much.  I was so weak I could hardly walk across the room without my heart pounding and becoming breathless.  It took a while, but it was eventually determined that I had bleeding duodenal ulcers.  The good news is that such ulcers are easy to treat and the cause of the ulcers was NSAIDS which I had been taking routinely for pain in my knee.  I didn't realize how dangerous such over the counter medications were.  Now I know.  Beware of NSAIDS, especially on an empty stomach, no matter what medical advice you are given.

Most nights before bed I walk a well worn path into the woods where the animals gather and I deposit

mounds of food here and there.  I go to the edge, turn around, and begin my food distribution on my return to the house.  My flashlight may catch the glowing eyes of a deer before he thunders away into the darkness or a pair of shiny raccoon eyes looking my way.  Sometimes a fox.  Most unique of all is this:  there is a tiny but exceedingly bright light that sometimes catches the rays from my flashlight and sparkles brilliantly like a star that has fallen to earth.  Is that a diamond, or some precious jewel that someone lost long ago?  Much to my surprise, over and over again when I follow the reflected rays I come upon the same creature--a small grey spider, facing my direction.  She makes her appearance in mysterious ways and in many locations but always like a shining star on the ground, in the grasses, quiet and still, looking at me.  I marvel at how her eyes can create this brilliant burst of color that I can see from so very far away.  When I get close enough to see her, the brightness dissipates completely as her little grey body comes into view.  I could reach down and touch her but that is not to be done.  It is said that Grandmother Spider weaves the fabric of the universe that holds everything together.  My youngest sister died this week alone in her bed.  My brother found her in the morning.  I feel sad, and angry, but this death comes as no surprise.  As her son told me, he has been expecting this for most of his life.  She was 52 and my nephew is 21.  I could criticize and condemn her behaviors, her lifestyle, but couldn't I just as easily have followed a similar life of addiction, of living deep in shadow, afraid of my own light?  I think that's very possible, so when judgments form in my mind I try to stop myself and let the feelings come up.  Are we not all connected and reflections of one another?  I am no better, I am only lucky that somewhere, somehow some healing choices came my way and for whatever reasons, no matter, I grabbed a hold of them and took a different journey.   Still, I am not immune to disease, tragedy, or death.  She lived her life the way she chose and don't we all want the freedoms to live the way we want, not tethered to cultural norms and societal rules that make no sense to us?  The pain and consequences we inflict on others cannot, perhaps, be justified, but knowingly or unknowingly, we are tools, we are instruments of a vast and diverse universe that is composed of expressions that are unique and infinite.  All stars eventually burn out.  Hers was an especially bright one, oftentimes blinding.  May you rest in peace, Amy.  You will be missed by many.   

Blue Horses

Something about horses arises, almost daily.  Mary Oliver writes about stepping into Marc Franz's painting of four blue horses.  I marvel at his work--bright primary colors depicting horses, cows, foxes, cats.  German Expressionism.  I marvel at Mary Oliver and how she expresses her observations of the natural world through her poetry and essays.  I book a riding lesson at Silver Fox Farms with Colleen.  The drive is beautiful, the horse and I make circles in the arena, walking, trotting.  An English saddle and very different from what I know and I like it but long to be set free on an open trail.  The detailed instruction reminds me of Iyengar Yoga--use your core, press down through your heels, keep your shins in and against the body of the horse, don't cross your hands, elbows in, look straight ahead, not down, don't lean forward, keep your spine erect.  It's cold and drizzling, then later the snow comes dancing down in the dark as we rush to bring in selected plants.  The neighbor lady honks at her horses and I begin practicing the first four steps of nine in the Enneagram of Letting Go--see it, say it, sense it, stay with it.  Then, relax, respire, reconnect, reframe.  Presence.  Those pesky little hooks can grab me in an instant and I'm off and galloping into non-reality.  Of late I've been seeing a young therapist with thick hair cropped close to the skin on the sides and in the back of his head.  The most beautiful teeth I've ever seen.  There is a dance being taught and learned--how to engage and tango with Essence.  There is discipline in this.  We work with Meredith and follow her instructions on Chinese yoga, movement, breath, chi, yin and yang.  My muscles ache.  On Wednesdays I place my mat close to the heart chakra quartz crystal singing bowl and feel the vibrations resonating deep within.  Jan's east Texas voice soothes and the long sound of her esses is sweet.  Dixie tells me she has been spending time with Light On Yoga and I tell her that Anne has been teaching the road to malasana and other asanas on the syllabus.  The Christmas tree is up and the decorations are out, presents are wrapped, plans are in the works. I've had nightly visits from raccoons, a fox, a beautiful skunk, and the mysterious buck that somehow manages to come and go as he pleases despite the seven and a half foot fence that apparently is not an obstacle.  How glorious to gracefully leap over the many obstacles that block our path!

Go Out and Let Your Hearts Get Broken

 "Go out and get your hearts broken," Hunter advised.  "Reach out for those things that will awaken you, know that your deepest cravings are usually not for what you think you want, but for those things that your heart knows you need.  Your deepest fears and your darkest abysses are there to awaken you to a thousand moments of enlightenment.  Go there no matter how much you tremble and quiver."
*****
I had a dream that Hilary Clinton was dead, and her body lay on a gurney.  Hunched over her on the verge of dissecting her was Donald Trump.  The collective corpus of the majority of voters have felt defeat, this broad body of learned folks stunned into disbelief, reaching out to one another through comforting emails, published stories, reciting words of wisdom, gathering together to rally and march.  Will something good or even great come from all this?
*****
Within the complex mythology of the Aztecs, one can extract the story of Nanautzin, a god who eventually leaped into a giant fire and became the sun of the fifth kingdom.  This god was known for his humility, for his many wounds, his "sores".   Because he had lived such a privileged life and been given everything he ever wanted or needed (brings to mind the Buddha), he could not understand the deep feelings that surfaced for him when he was denied access to the envied fruit (gourd) of a grand tree.  This brought on suffering and pain which he had never before experienced, and he discovered that through these sorrows he gained a far greater understanding of the the world, he understood and felt compassion, and love, and the many rewards that can be reaped from the healing of wounds.  We are encouraged by this to open our hearts to the world, live fully and experience all that comes our way without erecting barriers.  Yes, our hearts will be broken over and over again, but the heart is designed to withstand all this pain and sorrow and move us forward into lives of  heartfelt living.  This story resonated with me on several levels.  We are often attracted to those things we don't have, or cannot have, and this tends to make our desires to own, possess, feel, touch these things even more pronounced.  Then, often, when we get "them" we only experience a temporary reprieve from our deepest longings..
****
I opened my heart as best as I could while at the ruins of Teotihuacan with no expectation as to what, if anything, might come my way.  The energy of the sacred place was palatable, the sky and the trees seemed to reach out to me and embrace me in profound ways.  There was indeed magic.  But on this particular retreat, the magic of the place was greatly enhanced by the magic of the many folks I encountered, from the celebratory mass at The Dreaming House followed by festive dancing to the warm embrace of a young man whose skin was softer than the skin of an infant.  He was a fellow retreatant who felt such fear and temerity that unbeknownst to me or anyone else he was on the verge of secretly hopping in a cab and making his way to the airport when I knocked on his door to say hello and let him know that I could see him struggling through the group sessions, I could see and feel his discomfort and was there anything I could do?  This is the moment when hearts opened wide and surrendered to connection.
****
Earlier this week, on my yearly drive to see my psychiatrist I noticed an unusually large buck standing on a hillock overlooking Ranch Road 12, and as I gazed in my rear view mirror I could see a doe standing on the edge of the pavement, probably getting ready to cross to the other side.  I began flashing my lights on and off to the cars heading in that direction and I could feel a sinking in my heart.  On my return trip as I approached this same spot, I noticed several vehicles pulled to the side of the road and I saw a man walking along the edge of the road with his cell phone in hand, and there, lying at the edge of the road where asphalt meets native grasses lay the majestic buck in a pool of blood with his proud horns reaching skyward, symbolizing his strength and prowess, his maturity, and his instinctive determination to follow the doe no matter the consequences.
****
The greatest threat to adults over the age of 65 is heart disease. Our hearts beat as much as 60,000 to 115,000 times a day, and pump 6 quarts of blood through about 12,000 miles of vessels, arteries, and capillaries every day.  In the womb, our hearts are the first organ to form.  We are made up of hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen, and carbon, the most abundant materials in the universe.  We are the stuff of stars and galaxies.  We are made of more than 35 trillion cells.  Multiply that number by 10 and you get an estimate of the number of microbial cells in/on our bodies.
****
My house guest from several years ago spent much of his time looking for a house to buy in this area so that he could have some land for horses, a good studio space to paint, a permanent home in the country to go with his new job in Austin as a Physical Therapist, and hopefully find something deep inside that was missing from his life.   Things did not go well for him and after less than a year he put his house up for sale and returned from whence he came.  During my short-term, complex relationship with this man he confided in me things he said he had never told anyone before, ever.  The profound childhood abuse he suffered for many years at the hands of his father and older brother was almost as difficult for him to think about as it was to talk about.  Very deep, dark, unrevealed secrets that had only been revealed once?  to me?  from this man in his 50's?  I began seeing disturbances in his behavior that were the result of never processing such trauma, never allowing such deep anguish to come into the light of day.  I cried out loud for him.  I screamed, I wrote, I spoke, and I prodded him to seek healing, but this was not to be.  In hindsight, I was perhaps trying to intervene where I should not have.  Last Fall he had open heart surgery to replace his mitral valve.  Last week he took his own life rather than face the darkness that manifested itself physically in his broken heart.  Such sadness I feel.
****
And so I will always remember Hunter telling the group, "go out and get your hearts broken."  Reach out for those things that will awaken you, know that your deepest cravings are usually not for what you think you want, but for those things that your heart knows you need.  Your deepest fears and your darkest abysses are there to awaken you to a thousand moments of enlightenment.  

For me Easter was walking my dog along a quiet trail and suddenly hearing the extraordinarily vibrant singing of a mockingbird and being totally captivated by his music, the range of notes, the tonality, the pitch, the celebration, the pure sound of Nature.  I stood there and closed my eyes and felt the vibration, the joy, the magic flowing through me.  It was profound connection.  The simplicity of it all washed through me leaving me feeling blessed and cleansed.  I smiled, thanked her, and left her alone to sing her Song, our Song.  

Halves

This first half of 2015 has been both difficult and richly rewarding.  Most pain and suffering of any degree is often followed by a period of understanding and learning.  In all of this one finds love, forgiveness through understanding and compassion, connection and new levels of self-awareness.  I have learned and more fully experienced how everyone that comes into my life is a gift, an opportunity, a blessing, even though I may not see that for a while or immediately welcome this difficulty as Rumi asks us to do in his poem The Guesthouse.  One of my recently discovered treasures is Tara Brach's book Radical Acceptance which has taught me so much.  I have been working with an Internal Family Systems therapist and we have done some deep inner work.  I have come to learn that our deepest core issues will continue to revisit us and require that we pay close attention and homage to their often unwelcome offerings which we may not recognize as such initially.  "We take refuge in the Buddha (Real self), the dharma (our path), and the sangha (our connections)." The parallels in Buddhism, Shamanism, Internal Family Systems, The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, the teachings of BKS Iyengar and of course many more are striking, like bolts of lightening that illuminate our many pathways and demand our onward march with a powerful force that cannot be brushed aside.  If we ignore our painful emotions we bypass richly rewarding opportunities.  If we dig and explore, doors open and treasures are found.

"Teotihuacan can be translated, 'The Place Where Human Beings Discover God Within.'  Every stone of this sacred ceremonial site has been infused with powerful transformational energies that begin to reawaken our capacity for greater life and happiness in our very cells, from the moment we arrive.  Many people experience this transformation even before they arrive:  old issues, unhealed wounds, and unnamed feelings begin to arise in our lives in the weeks leading up to the journey, so that we can bring our loving-kindness and healing attention to them.  Some people even experience a physical detoxification.  I encourage you to allow and trust this process without struggling too hard to analyze it, simply take loving care of yourself, and give yourself a little quiet time to journal, reflect, or enjoy supportive time with friends.  Teotihuacan is a place of rebirth; like the mythical serpent Quetzalcoatl, we have the opportunity to shed the skin of our old stories about limitations and wounds, and grow new wings of self-love and vision.  Set an intention for your own transformation and rebirth as you near the journey, and that intention will be the most valuable thing you can bring with you."  Hunter Flournoy, owner Spirit Journeys, Shaman, psychotherapist, healer, leader and workshop/retreat facilitator and more...

I had a dream that I was pregnant.  (Giving birth to a new aspect of myself, a beginning, a discovery or nurturing of Self, inner growth)....

In the yard I found a heart-shaped stone with a white line through the middle of it that has since mysteriously disappeared.  Sometimes our hearts have to be ripped open or become inflamed with excruciating pain before we can allow ourselves to really feel our inner wounds and allow healing to begin and this process repeats itself over and over again as we journey ahead.  In his book Mastery of Love, Don Miguel Ruiz discusses relationships and how each relationship we have in this world is unique and different from any other and the important lesson that we cannot change others, only ourselves.  Love is nonobligatory, fear closes doors.  Each relationship has two parts, yours and theirs.  When we truly love ourselves, we do not allow others to take advantage of us.  It is so easy to get ensnared, as Brach discusses, in the "trance of unworthiness" and get hypnotized by our own wounds and fears.

I swear the hummingbirds seek me out when the feeder has gone dry.  I laughed until I had tears when I told Brendan that I saw a bee that had found his way into the sugar water and was drowning with no escape and how I not only rescued him, but also washed him off with filtered water so he wouldn't dry and be coated with a stickiness.  Symbolically, I didn't want him stuck, just as I want to rescue myself when I am stuck and on the brink.  An important lesson I learn over and over again is to Pause, Reflect, Focus on the body while very quiet, breathe with intention and discipline, feel where in the body there might be some manifestation.  Listen, acknowledge, accept.

It is all the stuff of Dreams and we are all dreaming.

In one of our webinars Hunter has mentioned that some people want to be able to see auras and spirits which is not something I wish for, although I think I understand the longing.  Why would one want to see a spirit when you can look out onto the landscape and see real clouds, trees, grasses, people, birds that you can hear, see, touch and feel.  Why want to see someone's aura when you can explore your relationship with that person and learn if there is a extraordinary connection that transcends language?  Of course I understand that seeing spirits and auras is a gift, and like grace, if it comes, welcome it; if you want it, ask for it, but then pause and wait and have no expectation.  You never know what may arise, or as Hunter says, when you are carefully watching for something to come to you through the front door, it may very well have come in the back door and has been with you all the while.

The second half of 2015 begins with a journey to the ancient pyramids of Teotihuacan near Mexico City with Spirit Journeys, a trip I will be making without Dale, mid-July.  In November, with Overseas Adventure Travel, Dale and I will be staying in small inns (paradores and pousadas) throughout the countryside of Spain and Portugal for several weeks.

The beautiful heart shaped stone with a line dividing it into halves speaks to me and I just found it.

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Imprints

In earlier posts I mentioned being somewhat controlled in recent months by an anger that I simply could not shake off.  This anger was triggered by another person's behavior, and I did not like this behavior and desperately wanted the behavior to change.  Quite often, on the surface, that is what anger is about--control, policing, wanting things to be other than what they are.  I have believed and espoused the philosophy of acceptance, of profound, unconditional acceptance of things as they are, things that we are powerless to change, for a long time. This includes everything from terrorism and war to domestic violence to things that are closer to home, such as someone we love and care about behaving in an inappropriate manner towards us, or in our presence, oftentimes quite unintentionally or unknowingly.  Sometimes this "misbehavior" can trigger deep feelings of anger, sadness, anxiety, or not. Sometimes we can simply say to ourselves that we know deep down we have no control and we accept this and let go.  However, there are, for me, those very rare times when the anger persists, I just can't seem to overcome it, I cannot seem to detach from it.  So I have work to do.  I can analyze this situation as much as I want, I can understand the situation as much as possible, I can communicate all this to others, breathe into it, meditate upon it, but if the feeling doesn't dissipate then something is certainly going on at a much deeper level that needs further exploration.  It can be empowering to appropriately express our anger, and this is good; however, it doesn't guarantee the anger will go away.  Reaching out to others is nearly always helpful so long as we reach out to someone we intuitively trust and believe in.  So one theory is that the physical manifestation of this anger has shown up in my body as costochondritis, which is an inflammation of the connective tissue of the ribs to the sternum.  Right there where the heart resides.  And it hurts and radiates pain. Always there is something to learn from pain, whether it be physical or mental .  Having exhausted the offerings of western medicine, which has definitely offered a great deal of relief through the taking of anti-inflammatory drugs (NSAIDS), applying some of the ayurvedic techniques I am aware of (arnica both topically and orally, neem, ginseng, ashwagandha, chyawanprash, trikatu, tumeric...), I decided to turn elsewhere.  I have had some intensely powerful experiences in the past when I've connected to people who are either studying or practicing Shamanism.  There are many different kinds of practices out there just as  there are many different practices dealing with spirituality, yoga, and so on.   At the Bodhi Zen Center several years ago I worked with Hunter Flournoy, Wolf Martinez and David Moreno in a week long workshop that was one of the most powerful and wonderful experiences of my life.  I scheduled a session through the Austin Shamanic Center yesterday and indeed had a very powerful and cathartic experience in my private session.  I won't go into all the details, and the verdict is out on whether healing has been expedited, but at any rate I want to write some of my experience about that in this blog.  After discussing this anger issue and some of the things that have been going on in my life in recent weeks and months, the healer asked me how any of this might relate to the area around my heart?  Did something happen either recently or at any time in your life having to do with your sternum, your heart area?  This is when chills simultaneously shot through her body and my body because we were approaching something deep.  Tears welled up and my voice broke as I recalled the time when I was a young boy and there was an incident I have not thought about or talked about in a long, long time.  One morning we, meaning my family, were gathered in our living room.  The master bedroom was an adjacent room.  All was calm on the surface when suddenly a gun was fired in the bedroom where my father was sleeping.  It was a horrifying sound and there was no doubt it was the silver colored .22 pistol with the flesh colored handle  that was always kept loaded in the upper drawer of a bureau that had been discharged. The sound alone, with its many connotations and repercussions, rang terror deep within my being.  I was probably 7 or 8 years of age.  We ran into the room and my father was standing there with his hands covering his heart, then he collapsed face down on the bed, dying from a self-inflicted gunshot wound right into his heart.  It was a total nightmare, at least for as long as we believed it.  We were all sobbing and screaming and holding on to him.  It is hard to relive such memories.  As it turns out, he had not shot himself, it was all a game, a pretense, a form of manipulation, and probably a cry for help on his part.  Although greatly relieved that he had discharged the pistol through the wall above the bureau and not through his heart, no doubt the subsequent anger and hate I felt for him grew even more intense with no way whatsoever of knowing what to do about it.  I was of course at that age totally powerless.  It is possible that this "imprint" is still with me.  It is possible that when I recently observed/experienced someone I care about frequently doing something that I believed wholly inappropriate that these deep feelings of anger kept trying to come to the surface, but instead they got stuck in the heart center, the heart chakra, the seat of the soul (and other chakras as well).  The Shaman decided on a course of action and proceeded with a ritualistic cleansing, an unblocking of the chakras, a calling upon my deepest self to release this anger, to release the caged boy pounding on the walls of a glass box, summoning the spiritual elements to come to my aid and release me from this imprint upon my heart region.  It was powerful and intense and at a climatic/pivotal moment deep into the ceremony her Akita Inu came running into the room, jumped up on the massage table and licked away my tears, literally.  Quite empathetic.  Quite mysterious.

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Postscript:  On May 4, 2015, I sent the following email to Christina at Austin Shamanic Center:

Hi Christina,

It has not been a week since our session, but my chest pain/sensation has nearly completely
disappeared.  It didn't happen overnight, but I particularly noticed a change on Saturday with a slight
itch.  Then on Sunday, yesterday, my heart region (on the outside) began to itch more, and the slight
itchy, tingling sensation went downward towards my lower abdomen, but completely on the surface
of the skin (seemingly).  The itch was pretty intense last night, right over the sternum, but today it is
almost completely gone.  I am so happy about this.  Thank you for your incredible work.

best, ron

Bees in Trees, Monks in Monasteries

Along with the cleansing rains come loud claps of thunder and bright bolts of lightening.  Mikio barks at the thunder then retreats to his security blanket that allows him to hide his head under the bed.  The cats are not bothered at all as they sit atop chairs in front of windows gazing out.  It is lush and green outside and smells ever so organically earthy.  I'm sitting here wondering when the hell this costa (rib) inflammation will heal.  This is my first experience with costochondritis and while it's quite common and not serious, it does hurt and restricts my activity.  I have no problem going through an hour or two of a relatively vigorous asana practice, but a few hours later and for perhaps the following 24 hours or so the pain in my chest is pretty intense and radiates outward.  It is difficult to sleep, a problem I've not experienced in many years.  At times it can be hard to breathe.  From everything I've read, this condition is quite often classified as "cause unknown."  Rest, NSAIDS, and that's about it.  Appropriate stretching whatever that is, I'm not sure.  Ice, heat, arnica.  Wait. Prognosis: very good.  So I just finished reading the story of Sarita Kenedy East whom I've heard of for many years, and her close association with the Trappist monk Brother Leo. Absolutely fascinating reading about South Texas politics, corruption, abuse of power, manipulation, greed, history, lawyers and more lawyers and one of the largest ranches in South Texas that sits atop an ocean of oil and gas. I have actually met some of the characters in the book in real life, which adds to the interest.  "If You Love Me You Will Do My Will" written by Stephen G. Michaud and Hugh Aynesworth.  I found the book so engrossing that I started on Broleo - The Wayward Monk by Marshall Boykin with an introduction by Frances Tarlton Farenthold.  This is the biography of the the Trappist Monk Brother Leo who played a significant role in Sarita Kenedy East's life, the formation of her foundation and the many years of litigation that followed her death.  When I was growing up, especially in the summer months, I would spend a lot of time at the local library which was built by the Dougherty Family.  For me, it was a place of refuge, of solitude, of withdrawal inward away from the hot Texas summer heat and boredom.  Years later, Stephen Dougherty mentioned Brother Leo to me on several occasions as well as his recommended visits to a Trappist Monastery in Argentina and/or Chile.  I didn't realize the extent of Stephen or his dad's relationship to Brother Leo until I began reading the book.  Stephen is an extraordinary person, kind, generous, humble and yet eccentric, and he gave me a fair amount of his time during my conversion to Catholicism after my many stays at the Benedictine Monastery of Christ in the Desert near Abiquiu, New Mexico.  He is now a Father of the Church (Priest).

I am sitting under a stand of trees next to a bird bath.  There seem to be bees everywhere, but we cannot figure out where they are coming from.   We continue to investigate.  The tree is old and the bees have colonized inside the tree.  As I continue looking I see an opening in the tree and inside the tree is an elaborately carved statue.  It is hard to tell if the statue within the tree is a natural formation in the tree or if it was carved from the tree itself or if it was placed inside the tree.  Is this the god the bees are worshiping?  There is a strong element of nature in all this, an element of mystery.    I am reminded that I am reading all about monastic life which certainly has parallels to the bees in the trees with the statue symbolism.  Hard work, coming together communally, building a life based on rules and rituals, a place of sanctuary and worship, a place to perhaps find oneself, a path or journey towards one's own authenticity.  There is a parallel between the contemplative life (colony) within the monastery (tree), the worship of the Trinity (statuary) and the life that goes on outside the place of sanctuary and solitude among the "lay" people. The Desert Fathers that follow the rule of St. Benedict are not a lot different from the bees in the trees.  As one sits underneath trees, is this not a common metaphor for bliss, for transformation, for contemplation?  I think so, for example Buddha and the Bodhi Tree.  And so, I wonder, why this inflammation of my connective tissue of the ribs to the sternum?  It has slowed me down.  Behind this inflammation, this fire within, resides the seat of being, the heart.   I'm staying as open as I can.   Somewhere there is a deep blessing.

Segregated Thought Patterns and Emotions Whose Interplay Disallow Awareness

I see a wall of darkness, black space, and nothing else except the following:  contained within or upon this dark wall in the upper half, perhaps not centered but positioned to the left of center, is a small box, a rectangle. It is not black, but it is abstract and very much in contrast to the blackness. What it is becomes abundantly clear--it is anger.  My anger.  I get the message loud and clear--go there and explore this anger.

So...I have been dealing with a lot of anger lately and although the ride has been rough and rocky, I know I have to face this difficult emotion head on and process it, learn from it, examine it, feel it.  I know that if I don't do these things, the anger will linger, it will fluctuate, it will sneak up on me and push me around and control me in ways I do not like.  So why this anger?  Where is it coming from? What is triggering it?  Always begin at the beginning.  When you grow up in a home where there is both physical and psychological abuse, alcoholism, and an abundance of crazy anger and, at times, utter chaos, it is not a lot different from suffering from PTSD.  Your psyche ends up being bruised and beaten, and if you continue acting out the cycle you end up living the life you inherited from your parents (or one that maintains many of the same dysfunctional characteristics).  You have to break out of all these patterns that you have observed since birth.  You have to spend years unlearning behaviors that played a significant role in your formation as a personality.  No matter how much success you have achieved in doing this, how liberated you have become from the chains of your past, no matter how deep you have delved into it all, there is always some scar tissue left that can get peeled back leaving you feeling raw and vulnerable and flooded with emotions, anger certainly being one of them.

I am always surprised when people tell me that they perceive of me as a sweet, soft spoken person with a gentle nature, a big heart.  If this perception of me is true of most people, then clearly I am putting out a vibe of vulnerability.  This can be good because I find people wanting to confide in me, and trusting me, and for some inexplicable reason aggressive bully types tend to keep away.  Every once in a while someone will come along who senses all this and will latch on to me and before I thoroughly realize it, I am being subtly manipulated, acted out upon (including sexual misconduct and inappropriate promiscuity), being used like a sponge to absorb a multitude of negative outlooks, dissatisfactions, criticisms of others, persistent pessimism, countless complaints and unwavering whining.  I find myself somewhat unwillingly (mea culpa) playing the role of arbitrator, playing the role of caretaker, playing the role of therapist, of the one who listens but doesn't get listened to.  In other words, relationships in which there is no reciprocity.  In actuality, this can be a good thing for both of us if I am interacting with someone who has a strong sense of who they are, they have self-awareness and have gained, through work, a certain self-mastery over their issues.  But every once in a while, less and less often as I mature, someone will come along who has been so long in the habit of disguising themselves not only from others, but disguising themselves from themselves, that their actions begin to slowly unravel before me and I see an inner chaos, an inner being that is in many lost in knowing how to be in the world, how to behave in an appropriate, loving, caring manner, in a respectful and responsible manner.  Often these people have really big, sweet, gentle natures, but all too often it is a masquerade.  They crave intimate attention and intimate connection but when it comes down to it, they are like lost lambs.  Sweet lambs get eaten by their own inner wolf, with whom they have not confronted, and show up again as a wolf in sheepskin rather than a lamb who has tamed the wolf.  Perhaps that is a strange metaphor.    In essence, they have not done much work.  This may not be from not trying, this is not always clear to me.  Perhaps the damage is so severe that all they can do is try.  Perhaps doors haven't opened or perhaps they have been afraid to open doors.  These are not bad people, they are people that are doing what they learned from childhood.  But, as I have written before, they can wreak a lot of chaos in their relationships with others.  Intentional or unintentional, you learn over time that they haven't really ever listened to you, they haven't actually heard much of anything you said, they don't really know you at all because all the while they have been held hostage to their own segregated thought patterns and emotions whose self interplay disallows the ability to truly connect with others and with self.  It can be quite shocking when you learn they haven't been listening to you for months, for years.  They throw out bits and pieces that leave you dumbfounded.  You suddenly begin to see with clarity this false self that has been in control of them most of the time.  You witness their inappropriate behavior that repeats itself like a broken record and yet they are clearly incapable of doing anything about it.  There is a great sadness to be a witness to this, but this is life and one must learn that there is much that is beyond us to change in others.  We can accept this, we can vainly try to change it, we can walk away from it after giving our all.

A stranger with a big smile on his face wearing rather ragged clothes walked up to me in the parking lot as I was leading my dog to the car.  We stopped and as Mikio began smelling this man's leg, he reached into his pocket.  Don't worry, he said to Mikio, I will not harm your master.  (No, he was not reaching for a gun).  He pulled out a card that he handed to me.  It was the identification of a six pound Chihuahua!  Really.  He is my guide dog, he informed me.  I suffer from PTSD, and when I begin having a flashback, he goes into action and pulls me out of it and into the moment.  He told me that while in the grocery store, for example, if he heard someone arguing he had to leave the situation immediately because of the flood of overwhelming emotions that arise, that get triggered. The same thing used to happen to me I told him.  I understand the fear.   I truly understand.  I leave with a sense of sadness and at the same time a sense of triumph.  We can overcome through understanding, forgiveness of others and self, and through the development of a strong sense of awareness.  

The Aggressive Badger and the Transparency of Our Foibles

For the most part I find my interactions with others in my world of relationships to be better than it has ever been my whole life! Maybe this comes from decades of study, of falling down over and over again and getting back up, of digging deep into the darkness hiding the soul and learning to say hello, come here into the light and be known, fully and completely.  Decades of exploration with the help of others in this endless process of self-examination and self-study does have rewards.  Keen observation not only of oneself but of others, and of relationships with others, can bring us to a place of much deeper understanding.  When we see our mistakes, our errors, and work hard to improve ourselves, we will grow, even if by baby steps.  Most of these relationships in recent years are through my practice of yoga, and I find people to be fun, engaging, inspiring, loving, gentle, caring, respectful.  Community is so very important, in fact, critically important.  In so many ways it is how we find our way in the world, it is how we transition from one phase to another, it is how we grow and learn, it is how we move into those exquisite facets of transformation that sparkle ever so brightly and lead us closer to the light of life and self.  Much of this process can be difficult and painful, and while we are in it we may have no idea what lessons we are learning, but learning we are.  If we can remain open, we find ourselves surrounded by teachers in the form of people, nature, animals, dreams, books, events, coincidences, and so on.  But what I want to write about now are those rare interactions that are pretty much the opposite of all the things I have above described.  I'm not talking about people that are inherently bad or evil, absolutely not.  What I am referring to are those people who live their lives and interact with others completely unaware of their negativity, unaware that their own darkness, which they seem to never or rarely have explored, can impact others.  You can observe that it is inevitable that you will encounter people that are carrying a load of manure that they themselves are unaware of.  When this happens, you have choices.  You can allow the psychic smell to overwhelm you or you can wisely step far enough away so that you are able to observe all that is going on from a healthy distance, have some understanding and compassion, but know that the maintenance of a certain boundary and detachment is by far your best decision.  We are not acting in our self interests, or in the interests of others if we allow ourselves to fully engage in their stuff or get pulled in too close to their vortex of disorganization and chaos.  Sometimes I think these encounters, as difficult and as challenging as they may be, are the ones that are presented to us for the very purpose of letting us know that we need to always be diligent in our work, we cannot become lazy, we must continuously ask ourselves if we are up to task, if we are prepared to deal with those inevitable situations in life that are going to test us, to challenge us, to force us to repeatedly awaken to the many dimensions of reality, to the many aspects of what it is like to be human living in the here and now.  Sometimes it may be best to dive deep into the dark waters, feel the panic, feel what it is like to be unable to breath, but to hold on long enough to discover that we can emerge cleansed, spiritually refreshed, newly awakened, newly transformed. 

I dreamt that the dirt surrounding the perimeter of the foundation of my house (my deeper self, my core) was being dug up by a badger (someone has truly been badgering me).  The foundation remained fully intact, but there was a single rock that had been disturbed and there was a small hole the badger had made.  The disturbance was totally superficial but it nevertheless called upon me to put the rock back in place so the badger could no longer enter.  My neighbors appeared and didn't want to talk about this seemingly insignificant event, but rather they wanted to tell me that the person across the street had been parading around outside totally naked.  I looked up to see a friend of mine walking down the street, naked, and we waved at one another.  I was not concerned with this at all.  Then I was told that a colleague of mine was in the hospital, in intensive care, after having been involved in an accident.  This caused me to be concerned, and I realized that was where my focus needed to be directed.  I understand the dream fully, I believe, and it parallels exactly what has currently been happening in my life.  Seeing a person naked and being unconcerned about it can mean that you see right through a person and what they are doing, how they are behaving.  There is a transparency that you can see even though they may be blind to themselves and their actions.  Badgers can represent those people that run interference in your life, cause some little disturbances, but you know exactly what to do to resolve the problem.  Your foundation is solid, and all you do is put your solid rock back in place and the issue disappears.  But, to have a person that you care about deeply, a teacher that you both respect and admire, suddenly be in hospital, well, what does that mean?   I think that the neighbors in my dreams were aspects of myself telling me to turn my focus back to those sources that provide me with health, with care, with nurturing, and from this one can stay the course towards healing which is never ending.

There will always be challenges, disturbances, annoyances, things that seem to want to rock our very foundation, but often these things are in fact pretty minor, and if we can see through them and see exactly who and what they are, have a clearness and clarity of sight, we can return to being "un-badgered" and turn back to the aspects or people in our lives that bring us good health and healing, that teach us good things, that help us examine who we are and how are we treating ourselves, how are we treating others. 

Yoga teaches us to cure what need not be endured and endure what cannot be cured.
     B.K.S. Iyengar


"Had I not seen these things in myself, would I ever have seen them in others?"
      Anonymous


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Passing

I'm often surprised at how easily conversation comes with complete strangers.  I was standing in line at Central Market in Dallas when I heard the cashier call out for me to come forward.  Apparently I was in a reverie, momentarily unaware of my surroundings.  Just daydreaming, I told her, to which she responded nothing wrong with that.  Then for some reason I said that maybe people would be better off spending more time daydreaming, exploring where they go.   She agreed, and asked if I had ever been in an isolation tank.  No.  I've really been wanting to do that she told me.  Some friends say it's very scary but I want to try it.  I began thinking about that.  An isolation or flotation tank is certainly a place where one is completely alone with oneself, with total quiet, with darkness, floating in water.  One of the many themes Patricia brought up during the workshop was the exploration of our own areas of darkness, our inner caves.  These caves can be psychological, physical, or spiritual.  But, it is important to go there, whether in asana, meditation, or pranayama.  It is in our caves that we discover the unknown about ourselves as these caves can be places where things are hiding, things we need to bring into the light of knowing, of understanding.  It's all about exploration and discovery of aspects of self.  The inner light of divinity, the spark of enlightenment, the repressed feelings we have never been able to acknowledge, our infinite wisdom as well as acceptance of our limitations or restrictions.  It is so fascinating.  She is an extraordinary teacher and I think that maybe to many students she is to them what Iyengar was to her, certainly for those of us who have never worked with Iyengar.  She shared so much with the group about her feelings surrounding his death, various conversations she had had with him over the decades, his suffering that probably propelled him to such unbelievable heights, his own transformations, his incomparable dedication to his path which had so much to do with his students.  When Patricia mentioned that she was having difficulty coming to terms with the fact that she would never actually see him or be with him again, and that she would suddenly awaken from a nap in a startled state of disbelief that he was truly gone, it reminded me of nearly identical feelings I had when my mother died.  I grieved for a year.  The next morning while driving to class, I found myself feeling very sad and wondering what was going on to trigger such feelings and tears.  I realized that my partner has in many ways been the most important teacher I've ever had in my life.  He has taught me so much, from patience and mindfulness to responsibility, to get out there and live life as fully as possible, to travel, to explore new cultures, meet new people, to be myself fully, practice all things with discipline and moderation, overcome debilitating fears, and much more.  All that, and he has saved my life, more than once.  So I realized that of all the people in the world, he has had the most positive influence on me in countless ways.  He has loved me unconditionally, been supportive of my sojourns and explorations into new arenas and journeys, and he has always been there, to listen without judgment but give truthful feedback. When I think of the possibility that perhaps, just maybe, one day he will no longer be around I simply find that thought  incomprehensible.  It is something I cannot fathom.  So, Patricia's talk of Guruji's passing triggered a deep longing in me to be with Dale, to hold on to him, to be grateful for him, and to hope he will be with me for a long, long time to come.  

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Every hour a child in India dies from rabies, and nearly all of these deaths are linked to dog bites.  Stray dogs, many of them carrying rabies, are one of India's multitude of problems.  Recently a young, iridescent green hummingbird crashed into the living room window making a loud enough thump to cause me to get up and investigate.  He had fallen onto the glass top table where I feed the stray tom cat.  I wrapped the hummer in a cotton cloth, placed him in a shoebox, and left him to recover in the darkness of a top closet shelf.  Hours later I took him outside and watched him fly away when he heard the sound of a nearby hummer at the feeding station hanging in front of the kitchen window.  There was no blood and no broken bones, which is not always the case.  It was a blessing to watch him fly away.  Blessing is derived from the word blood, and can mean something that is infused with sacredness.  I watched a documentary yesterday on Emmett Till after listening to Dominique Christina reciting her award winning poetry.  In 1955 Emmett was viciously beaten to death for whistling at a white woman in Money, Mississippi.  He was found in the Tallahatchie River with a cotton gin fan tied to his neck with barbed wire.  It was one of the sparks that ignited the Civil Rights movement.

My original intent when creating a blog was to continue journaling using a blog as opposed to writing on paper.  Knowing that what I write is available for anyone to read, it makes me more attentive to my writing but also tends to make me slightly censor myself.  Self censorship is not something I want to practice. So, I must say that I have been struggling too much with thinking what people may think, and this is a practice that bears no fruit and is largely fictitious projecting.  So I am going to get back into a more stream of consciousness writing. 

Our emotions are often easily interpreted by others who look at our naked faces.  I was fascinated to learn that our facial expressions actually can have an effect on our emotions.  In other words, if you are not angry, but you purposely make an angry face, eventually your body/mind will respond with a heartbeat that escalates by 10 or 15 beats a minute, adrenalin will get released into your system, and so on.  Therefore, when we practice yoga, having a calm face can have a significant effect on our mental state.  If we struggle using our facial muscles, we will begin struggling in many other ways, and there can be the residual effect.  The reverse is also true. 

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I think I will always remember the day of 9/11, the day of JFK's assassination, and now I think I will always remember the day BKS Iyengar died.  From my perspective he was a genius with a strong drive to help himself and to help others using the ancient art and science of yoga which he brought forward into the modern world as much if not more than anyone ever has.  He created a yoga center in Pune in honor of his wife, a foundation for children in his home town, wrote many great books including the extraordinary Light on Yoga and Light on Life, to name only two.  He will continue to inspire for many generations to come.  On that particular day as I was leaving the house I came upon small fawn trapped between the metal railings of a neighbor's fence.  Until fawns reach a certain age, they cannot follow their mothers when they jump across fences but must find ways to get around the fence or get through it.  This fawn tried to go through the fence, got nearly all the way through, then got stuck in her hip area.  I can only imagine how many hours she must have struggled to free herself.  Shortly thereafter I saw a film on Facebook in which a good Samaritan released a fawn stuck in between the railing of a metal fence identical to the one I saw that day.  But alas, there was no good Samaritan to rescue this young animal.  Only the evening before I walked this exact route and she was not there, so it had happened sometime after I had walked by, about 12 hours earlier.  She was dead and the vultures were fast at work doing what they are meant to do.  Still, I felt a great sense of sadness for the young deer whose life was cut so short by happenstance.   A few days ago I witnessed a grackle aggressively stabbing a small bird to death on the sidewalk.  It was brutal, and my intervention was too late.  The youngster died about 5 minutes after my attempted rescue.  Death is with us all the time in a variety of forms, but when we feel the loss of someone we have been close too, or been influenced by, or someone we greatly admire, it is natural to feel sad, natural to find it hard to come to terms with their permanent absence, natural to awaken in a startled state of realization that they are indeed forever gone.

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Science and technology advance to staggering heights as brilliant individuals across the globe delve deeper into their research; at the same time, barbarism and brutality spread across countries and destroy far more lives than the deadly Ebola virus.  I watched part of a documentary that filmed individuals in Asia who had been responsible for thousands of brutal deaths.  They were proud of the roles they played in purging Communists from their countries, proud of the horrific torture they inflicted, all with the support of their regimes' leaders.  I couldn't finish watching the film.  Others give freely to the needy, provide medical support for the sick, food for the hungry, companionship to the lonely and isolated.   




 

Portals of Receiving

Before bed last night I practiced adho mukha vrksasana whereby I positioned props so that I could  lightly touch my forehead to the prop making it relatively easy to balance in the pose with feet off the wall (hadn't practiced that way in a while), utthita trikonasana, parsvakonasana, vrksasana, uttanasana, and more.  I listened to most of an interview with Douglas Keller (author, teacher, yoga therapist, and all around very nice guy) about how to forward bend intelligently (The Art of Forward Bending), which I found quite informative and will finish listening to today.  Then I danced free-spiritedly and spontaneously to loud music until I broke out in a sweat.  There can be such a serious side to life, to our practice, our work, our study, the way we spend our time, that it should be a priority to balance that with simple crazy fun, whatever that may be.  At the very least, rest is one of the most important experiences ever.

There has been a mild struggle going on within me about enrolling in Austin Yoga Institute's Iyengar Yoga Teacher Training Program.  No matter how many workshops or classes I attend, no matter how calmly and without expectation I approach them, there is always an element of anxiety that creeps in when I think about attending something that is akin to "school."  Deep within is the voice that says "you are not good enough".   Even though I don't buy into that, anymore, at all, it still speaks and I think it always will.  There is nothing to be gained in denying this, and a lot to be learned in feeling it and letting it happen.  Part of going to school since childhood through college and after was fantastic, and part of it was really scary, and everything in between. After all, how much of our time have we or do we spend in a classroom situation? I can honestly say that the really scary parts, the paralyzing parts, the parts that induce panic and intense fear are all reactions of the past, but still they remain part of who I am, forever etched into my memory of things gone by.  We are who we are, and the bottom line of many aspects of ourselves remain the same.  The spots on a leopard never change no matter her age or accumulated life experiences (utter dependence upon mother, playful childhood, traumatic childhood, learning to hunt, breaking away into independence, finding a mate (or not), facing hunger, many failed attempts to capture prey, and so on).   We may learn to turn the volume of negativity way down, even off, but it does take some action to quiet the chatter of the what ifs as we go down the familiar path of imagining the worse.  Which, by the way, can be quite helpful as the worse thing that we can imagine happening is usually that we will die, and we know that is unlikely to happen under the given circumstances we are about to place ourselves into.  An answered question that brings comfort.  As it turns out, I absolutely loved the program, had a great time, and feel as though I have again embarked on a journey with countless challenges and rewards. 

(Dream)  Monkeys hang from the large tree, leopards rest on strong branches.  They are passive and safely observable.  When the monkeys descend, there is a pair that begins creating chaos and havoc.  They are entering the doors of surrounding rooms and there is an abundance of fear.  There is a voice on a loud speaker narrating the actions of the monkeys, speaking with a confident sense of authority and with a great deal of detailed knowledge.  The monkeys have entered a room and have done something bad.   I close the large classroom door to prevent them from entering, only to discover that the lock on the large door is nonfunctional, the screws from the bolting mechanism are loose and falling out, making it impossible to lock the door.  I notice the door, though large, is beginning to rot, but is still substantial.  A leopard jumps down from the tree and is next to me, and is about to attack me, so I think.  There is a threat, then no threat, then there is a threat again (first there is a mountain then there is no mountain then there is).  I move away slightly and thwart the potential attack.  Across the street on a large trash pile are two house cats.  The leopard moves towards them and kills one of them.  It is a gentle kill, but it is a kill nonetheless, the purpose to eat.

I'm thinking that from the tree of life which is strong, stable, rooted in the earth, and always growing hangs the complex duality of playfulness and deceit, elements in our lives we really cannot and should try to block from entering.  We may try to close the portal, but eventually we must face these things.  They will enter.  We will hear them.   Playfulness and not taking things too seriously is a very important attitude and action to maintain in our lives, but we must keep things balanced and return to some discipline for life cannot be all about play (nor all about work).  What exactly is deceit?  I think that many of the important decisions we make throughout our lives should be made using the best wisdom we have available to us at the time.  Unfortunately, that wisdom is not always readily available, and we must pass through the door of many questions, and allow ourselves to wonder if we are deceiving ourselves or being truly honest, weighing one against the other, seeking that which is ultimately best for us, and this can be easy or unbelievably complex.  In many ways,  this is up to us.  They are two sides of the same coin, and are often mistaken, one for the other.  It can take time and patience.  Two nearly identical cats atop a trash heap again can represent the duality of freedom/independence/creativity versus its opposite, that of feeling trapped or stagnant, unable to move forward because of indecision, misgivings or fear.  All this atop a heap of trash/garbage--aspects of ourselves, our history, that has been discarded, rejected or tossed aside.  Things that no longer serve our well being.  But, there is wisdom inside and atop this heap of garbage because we build and grow from the many lessons learned throughout our history.  The trash heap will continue to grow so long as we continue to grow, continue to process and defeat the non-truths, and allow ourselves the freedom to live freely and creatively. 

Years ago when we were traveling through East Africa, my partner got very sick while we were staying in the Serengeti National Park.  He encouraged me to continue touring, and that very afternoon we spotted a leopard in a tree.  What a sight!  He was so disappointed that he missed seeing that leopard.  It has been a joke between us now for a long time that when a leopard is mentioned, I wink and remind him of how I saw a leopard and he didn't.  Perhaps a leopard in my mind has come to symbolize his extraordinary fortitude and strength.  No matter how difficult the situation, he remains calm and seemingly unaffected.  He has inspired more than I will ever be able to fully appreciate. 

*****

I've never before experienced vertigo the way I have on a few occasions during the past year.  It is a dizziness that renders one completely unable to balance or function while the room spins endlessly and one stays put, close to the ground, ever so thankful for gravity.  This condition is called Benign Paroxysmal Positional Vertigo aka BPPV.  Little ear rocks which are small crystals of calcium carbonate (called otoconia) become dislodged from their places of residency (the utricle and saccule) in our inner ear and get into one or more of the semi-circular canals.  50% of dizziness in older people is due to BPPV, and is easily treatable with some simple maneuvers which took many centuries to discover. 

Readings:  Blink, The Power of Thinking Without Thinking by Malcolm Gladwell
                  Balance, In Search of the Lost Sense by Scott McCredie
                  Quiet, The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking by Susan Cain 

Finding Quiet

I love the quiet.  I am reading a book called Quiet by Susan Cain.  In brief, she delves into the nature of quiet, introverted people.  Devon told me she had read the book and it helped her understand that some of her behaviors she was not comfortable with had become behaviors she now not only accepts, but embraces.  Cain quotes Proust as calling those special moments of unity between writer and reader as "that fruitful miracle of a communication in the midst of solitude."  It is miraculous when we step forward toward more fully accepting ourselves and loving ourselves unconditionally.  It is perhaps a process without end.  I felt that way this weekend while listening to Ramanand.  Nearly all of what he said resonated within me with full understanding.  For me, nothing esoteric, just basic truths most of us of age (or not) have come to know through painful experiences, hard learned lessons of life, plumbing the depths of ourselves, peeling away layers in our oftentimes compelling and urgent journey towards truth of self, of life, of relationships. 

Today is Memorial Day which I understand to be a day for remembering all those men and women who fought in wars.  For decades now I have kept the bronze star awarded to my father for his service during World War II in my night stand drawer.  Long past his death, I finally came to understand and love him, and I wept for him.  Severely traumatized, alcoholic, abusive, hard core workaholic, gambler, womanizer, an absent father.  When we understand, we forgive.  With forgiveness we are free to love, and I don't think it is ever too late.

After 39 years, Dale and I got "married" in Taos on Wednesday, May 14.  The ceremony was sweet, simple, quiet, and meaningful.  I didn't think a piece of paper would mean much of anything, but the ritual, the ceremony, the sacredness of it does spin one towards looking at things from a different perspective, a view with more appreciation, perhaps a renewal.  It snowed, the moon was full, the old but modernized adobe enveloped us with warmth and hospitality.  We took our dog, Mikio, along with us.   

This past Friday I had my cat Pepe euthanized.  He had alimentary (intestinal) small cell lymphoma.  His symptoms began long ago, and I think that by the time he was diagnosed, the cancer was quite advanced.  He did not respond to prednisone, nor to two different chemotherapy treatments.  It is always a hard thing to do.  I observed his slow decline, his change in behavior, felt him daily as the muscle tissue melted away leaving him nearly emaciated.  Along the journey of dealing with his illness, there were a multitude of decisions to make.  We did everything we could, and more, and I can only hope we didn't do too much.  When I instinctually knew it was time, I had to battle with my mind for several hours.  During this time, I somehow heard about a book entitled Blink, learning how to think without thinking, meaning to listen to our intuition, our gut.  The book is on my wish list. 

It is growing dark outside, and there is the distant roar of thunder.  My dog stays close as he fears stormy weather.  The house is quiet, the cats sleeping, Dale in his room probably reading, listening to music, or online.   It is intensely green outside in infinite hues.  Pepe is peacefully sleeping forever under a stand of oaks alongside Adam, Sam, Kit Kat, Pewter, and Ralph.  The rain last night nourished the trees and grasses, filling the air with the smell of organic earth.  My burn pile is now all ashes, the fire long gone.  The wind which has been blowing daily is at the moment sitting still.