What makes it so hard for me? I watch them do it with sucess. I watch them do it with some honest trepidation, but since it’s truth they feel lead to communicate they just do it. It’s not that many of them don’t way the cost. It isn’t that they are loose cannons or reckless. They do care what people think. But they say where they stand anyway. Why do I struggle so much doing that?

I think I often use the argument “I don’t know if I’m doing this right technically. What if I don’t form it correctly before delivering the message? Did I “cross my t’s and dot my i’s” so to speak. What if the mechanics are wrong and I look ignorant?” It’s just an excuse. I once wrote and posted whether I got it technically immaculate or not. Once upon a time I just wanted to write. And I wrote. I wrote honestly what I believed at that time from the information I had to work with and what I knew. I know that maybe the technique still is a worry for me, but that isn’t the real wall I am trying to break through.

I often argue, “No one wants to hear this. They aren’t listening anyway. Why do it? Like Brandi Carlile says, “But the stories don’t mean anything, when you’ve got no one to tell them to…” (Carlile, 2007) .” That also didn’t matter to me when I felt like had freedom to write. I had to write. Whether someone was listening or not. I still do. I will journal, scribble on napkins, menus, used envelopes, whatever I can find, but I write. It’s what I do. So that isn’t the wall either.

I think the barrier has to do with a lack of privacy and judgement. I recently went with a very dear friend who is a communications professor to faux audit her class. I sat in the room listening to a panel of approximately six women of various ages discuss interpersonal communications. One of the topics was, why is it so challenging to discuss negatively percieved emotions. Why is it so hard to share them? I’ve been thinking a lot about all that I heard that night. Let me offer this as a summary of sorts. It doesn’t cover everything, but it says a lot of what was raised in that room.

Allison Iraheta – Scars

Truth and art are often times a great deal like a newborn child. You want to protect it. It is personal to the one who sees it. It is dynamic. It breathes. It grows. It can be hurt. It’s part of who you are. Often it tells a great deal about the one who claims to believe it. We’ve all been scarred. “Did I say something stupid?”

A more comical expression of the seniment can be found in L. M. Montegomery’s classic Anne of the Island. Anne Shirley finds that her best-friend submitted her story as an advertisement. Anne explains her pain about this:

“I feel as if I were disgraced forever. What do you think a mother would feel
like if she found her child tattooed over with a baking powder advertisement? I
feel just the same. I loved my poor little story, and I wrote it out of the best
that was in me. And it is SACRILEGE to have it degraded to the level of a baking
powder advertisement” (Montgomery, 1915)

While this seems comical when you read it (Unless you are an artist or a writer then it’s more bittersweet because you get it!)  the truth inherient in art is serious and exposing our hearts that freely is exposing it to judgement. What will people think of me if they know. No one can see in out hearts and heads and there there are so many truths that make us who we are that it just seems safer and easier to protect behind out rib cages and skulls.

Recently I’ve done a great deal of soul searching and a lot of changes have occured in my life. I don’t know which is worse for me, the fear of what people think of me or the fear of what I think people think of me. Letting truth out exposes you and it exposes those you love. You want to keep those you love in an ivory tower and you want the world to love them, too. Love is so all inclusive on the one hand while private and sacred in the other. That’s why our homes and bedrooms have doors. Doors that open up when we want to share and feel safe. Doors that close when we want to be intimate and in a healthy way selfish. When you write something down, it’s doors wide open.  Artist Jennifer Knapp wrote,

“Careful what you say
Careful who might hear
Someone else inside the
universe
Could write it down
And you’ll be hearing it for years” (Knapp, 2010)

Basically if you’re going to write it, be prepared to own it. That is what scares me. Can I own it? Can I say it and own the consequences?

References:
Carlile, Brandi (Performer). (2007). The Story [Recorded by Brandi Carlile]. On The Story [Medium of recording: CD] New York : Sony. (2007)

Gad, Toby (Lyricist), & James, Elyssa (Lyricist). (2010). Scars [Recorded by Allison Iraheta]. On Just Like You [Medium of recording: CD] New York City: 19/Jive. (2010)

Knapp, Jennifer (Performer). (2010). Dive In. On Letting Go [Medium of
recording: CD] Nashville: Graylin Records/Thirty Tigers. (2010)

Montgomery, L. M. (1915). Anne of the island. Canada: L. C. Page & Co

       Instead of trying to gush on and on about why I love these folks, let me allow what I often hear through just one very special lady speak for itself.

“…Think about the tropical rainforest. Once upon a time, scientists and farmers thought it grew where it did because the soil HAD to be the richest on the planet. WRONG! They cut the forest down… only to discover that the soils are amongst the most nutrient depleted in the world. All of the nutrients are bound up in the biomass. What makes the rainforest so rich and amazing is the speed at which nutrients and energy are transferred and cycled through an astonishing variety of plants and animals that are all incredibly different and each fills a unique niche.

Life is like that. Every one of us fills different niches in making the world a richer place. But, when we put up barriers and refuse to fill any niche in helping that life/love/energy/God flow through the whole system, we not only stunt our own growth, but impoverish the world as a whole.” – Terri Willard, March 13, 2011

       This has probably been one of the worst and most taxing years I have ever lived through. So many changes in my life that I can’t keep up. I just pull a Dory

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=adqLaecr9WY

and muddle forward one step at a time. I am able to “just keep swimming” even when it feels like just treading water in part because of the voices of  friends like “T.”. It’s not hero worship (although she knows I think she’s a hero!). Terri is beautifully human. Terri is my friend. I am very lucky to know her. I am totally honored to know her family. They are really beautiful. I am blessed to learn along side them.

When you curl up under the blankets and

You remember the warmth of my touch

On your heart

I pray you are warmed by the spark.

When night is longer than day again

When you lock yourself tightly away and

You remember where you left your key

In my hand

I pray you feel safe once again.

I was your sun for the long nights

I was the embrace that held you tight

I was the ears that caught every whispered word

And I was the spoken love you never heard.

When the breezes blow crisp and cool again

When the chill burrows deep beneath skin and

You remember my sheltering soul

Covering your shy heart

You’ll know you were loved from the start.

When the music of birds is softer and

When your troubadours migrate south again

Those left gather seeds from your hand

In the cold

May faithful love never grow old

I was your hero for only a moment

I was the rush of adrenaline’s surge

I was a smile that caressed your lips for an instant

I was the spoken love you never heard

You could not receive me

Your heart’s ears scorned the word

I was the spoken love you never heard

       It seems to me sometimes that I have a rare knack for landing in the middle of situations that bring me to this place. No matter how one finds themselves here …. a terminal illness of one you love, a move when you’re ten and you wave to a best-friend as you drive away, a pet runs away, divorce, broken connections of relationships, an unexpected accident or tragedy… I think no matter how you arrive at this place, grief  is never pleasant or easy. Good bye is just not something easy to hear. “The end” rarely felt like

Instead I find that it is constantly more like

No book by Kulber Ross fixes the pain even if it helps us understand it. 

Or according to Changing Minds.org the extended grief cycle sounds like:

• Shock stage: Initial paralysis at hearing the bad news.
• Denial stage: Trying to avoid the inevitable.
• Anger stage: Frustrated outpouring of bottled-up emotion.
• Bargaining stage: Seeking in vain for a way out.
• Depression stage: Final realization of the inevitable.
• Testing stage: Seeking realistic solutions.
• Acceptance stage: Finally finding the way forward.

(http://changingminds.org/disciplines/change_management/kubler_ross/kubler_ross.htm)

I’ve read Dr. Paul Brand’s book, The Problem With Pain.  Here are a few quotes thanks to Stauros’ Notebook:

All down the ages people have reacted against victims of leprosy. They have been called “lepers” and turned out of society. The disease has been said to cause rotting away of tissues and fingers falling off. Now that we understand the disease a little better we know that most of these problems are not due to the germs of leprosy. The germs simply destroy the nerves of pain. Once pain is gone, patients destroy themselves.

Pain Frees

It is pain that allows me to be free. When I started to study medicine I would probably have said that my purpose was to relieve pain and suffering and to save lives. Today after a lifetime of treating those in pain and those without pain I would say that my purpose is to relieve suffering and to improve the quality of life. The main difference is that then I thought of pain as an enemy, while today I think of it as a help, indeed as an important element in the prevention of suffering.

How often I have heard people complain about God when they have pain. They do not blame God for giving us a signal that tells of disease or injury, but why make it so unpleasant and why not make it easy to switch off? Now I know why. Today there are ways to switch off pain. Pain killing drugs quickly become addictive because the addict seems to be living in a problem free and pain free world. We are seeing more and more of the results of this in our hospitals.

Easing Pain

Even when we know that pain is good and beautifully designed, we still have to face the problem that it some times goes on hurting even when we are doing all we can to get better. When we are busy even severe pain may pass unnoticed. There seems to be a gate – a sort of bottleneck -which limits the number of impulses of all kinds that can get across from the body to the brain. I remember in World War II how soldiers who had been severely injured would tell of how they lifted their helpless buddies and run to safety on legs. They said they scarcely felt the pain. Later, in the silence of the hospital ward those same soldiers would cry out from the pain of the hourly injections. When we understood the role of activity, we can often make pain very much more tolerable simply by keeping busy and active, and especially by giving all our sensory nerves a lot of sensations to carry.

Mind-Pain

Whereas pain, when it comes from in the body, is usually quite precise and quantitative in relation to its cause, when it gets up to the conscious mind its significance varies enormously according to how it is interpreted. Fear multiplies pain. A sense of helplessness multiplies pain.

Confidence diminishes pain. The realization by the patient he can do something also helps to minimize the pain.

How to Master

In ancient civilizations and cultures of India and to Southeast Asia where pain and hunger, disease and death, have been for centuries a part of every day life and where easy relief of pain by medication has not been available the people have developed a realistic attitude towards pain. The personal mastery of pain has become an important part of yoga and other forms of discipline. In the West we have come to think of pain as an unwarranted intrusion into our lives. Above all we have come to think of it as something that should be immediately suppressed. The whole thrust of television advertising repeatedly asks only one question about pain. How quickly can it be relieved. Product A relieves it 20 seconds faster than Product B. There is no hint that before the pain is relieved it should be understood and its message should be listened to.

Pain as Friend

Athletes are perhaps the only segment of our society who study pain and who deliberately impose stresses upon themselves. They rejoice in the fine interplay between stress and pain and exhilaration. If they achieve mastery over their own body, pain is no longer an enemy, but a valued friend. I believe that all of us, early in life, should deliberately cultivate the same attitude toward pain. It is not an enemy from outside, it is part of ourselves communicating with ourselves, it is expressing a need, it is explaining a condition, it is identifying a need for help.

(http://www.stauros.org/notebooks/v01n4a01.html)

       I deeply respect Dr. Kubler Ross’s information. I’ve observed and experienced the stages. Mentally I can agree with the research. And I can mentally grasp Dr. Brand’s logic. I can mentally accept pain as a friend or messenger. I can agree with my head that pain is purposeful and wise men listen to it. But to my heart and head it still feels like

“All we can do is keep breathing…” -Ingrid Michaelson

     Today my princess, dressed in her finest, went to her school’s “Fairy Tale Ball”. She danced with Pinochio. She had cupcakes, cookies, and punch. She rubbed elbows with other royalty, magical people, and even a few villians. There were a number of Peter Pans, Pirates, Princes, Princesses, Dorthys, various Disney Princesses, the Red Queen and Mad Hatter, Johnny Apple Seeds, Paul Bunyans, Pecos Bills, the Tin Man, Captain Hook, and more.

     Abbey’s first choice was “Elphaba”. And really who could blame her! Elphie is different. Elphie was misunderstood. Elphie had a passion for justice and saving the oppressed. Elphie was the underdog. Elphie was brilliant. And she could sing! Abbey related to the emotions Elphaba experienced and her need to be accepted and wanted. I loved the idea. However, in a small town Abbey and I were afraid that all that anyone would see would be Margaret Hamilton’s version not Idina Menzel’s.

So finally for many of the same reasons, Abbey chose to be Disney’s Beauty and the Beast’s “Belle”. After all “Belle” saved her Prince instead of waiting around to be saved! I was thrilled with her logic. (Belle is my favorite Disney Princess too unless you count Gisell.)

    My girl is quiet by nature. She isn’t flamboyant or flashy. She is lovely and very tender hearted. She was a bit nervous and a little self concious about it all. But I applied make-up, shined up her tiara, and she shone. She is a royalty to me. I am very proud of her. She isn’t the ham her big brother is. She is more meditative and thoughtful. She doesn’t need or want a crowd like Mat and I, but her soothing spirit often heals people one on one. You feel at peace around Abbey. Everyone is welcome in her circle. She is a realist. She is honest. She is growing.

     She had fun I think. She danced her final dance with me. And I all I could think was:

     I will never forget watching my Afro-American friends style their hair in the dorms in the mornings. It was new to me and they were lovely. I listened to people of various faiths discuss truths that I was lead to believe only were true for those “like me”.  Through Ms. Boone, I was introduced to St. Exupery’s The Little Prince there. The fox’s part of the story has become my definition for building and maintaining relationships. It is a very deep part of me. From Ms. Rochelle I learned to grieve and love well. A life skill I needed with my dad. I have never forgotten her drawing a butterfly on a flip chart and writing, “”Death belongs to life as birth does” beneath it. It was years later that I could find the entire quote and author:

 ”Death belongs to life as birth does
The walk is in the raising of the
foot as in the laying of it down”
— Rabindranath Tagore (Stray Birds)

I’ve come to love that also. From Ms. Smith, I learned to play. “Gorilla, Man, Gun” ( http://www.angelfire.com/ca4/SnugglyBug/games/gorrillamangun.html ) or the infamous “Chubby Bunny.” An example (can be gross so not for the weak of stomach):

     I was talking with some friends of mine today… And remembering a very “happy me”. These ladies invested in me. I wish I could say the return on their investment is huge. They believed in me. I wish I could say it was warrented. But I will say, I am grateful. I will say my story isn’t finished yet. They showed me a bigger world than I could have ever imagined. They began opening the door and windows in the house of my heart to allow fresh air to stream through. My beliefs and heart are larger thanks to them. There are friends I have now that I would never have been open to have without their touch on my life.

     One of the songs I remember hearing that year at camp has stayed with me:

I am richer for these ladies and the other students who gave of their time, attention, and love in my life. Thank you for your part in showing me the way.

I am trying to explain
Wringing my hands, prying at words
Dislodging those that are stuck

I know she is listening
I know it by the glistening
Light there that is shining
In her eyes

“I can’t remember a time,”
I say as I squeeze her hand
She narrows her eyes in pain

“When we were not friends.”
I finish coming up for air
Our tear drops fall like rain

She scuffs her toe in the grass
Kicking at emotions
Dislodging those that are stuck

I feel her squeeze my hand
There are more words in that moment
Than in any full of voice.

She knows I am listening
Beyond the ‘seen’ bright and glistening
To the Light there that is shining
In her eyes.

“There will never be a time,”
She says breathing so deep
Her words falling soft as snow

“When we are not friends”
There is bedrock, a touch stone…wait
“I just don’t know this you.”

     When Guiding Light was canceled, I was in awe. For those who know me well, that I fell for a soap opera probably is flabbergasting. But I did. From March 11, 2009 to Sept. 18, 2009, I watched regularly. I even pulled up many episodes of certain storylines that captured my imagination as well. So I put a four year investment into that time span!

      Not just the show spurred me to watch. The online fan community literally captivated me as well. Men (yes, some incredible brave men) and women gathered to do play by plays of the episodes, talked through storyline knots, give history, review how it paralleled or diverged from modern pop culture, media and technology, jokes and fun, or just discuss acting and theater every weekday. What amazed me the most, they also discussed their lives. And I was blessed and touched beyond words. I grew.

    People were open and honest. You were able to hear about family, pets, travel, college, politics, current news, lifestyles, religion, history, art, literature, and more. People encouraged each other, pushed each other to be stronger or better, share wounds, share healing, pray with each other, think out loud, know what you believe… and more. There were births, marriages, dating, and losses just like any other community I have ever known. And I stood awestruck and inspired.

     I haven’t been as ‘invested’ as long as others have. I don’t speak of me much; I encourage, listen, and learn. What I’ve learned looks a lot like love to me.

     This week there was a deep loss of a beautiful lady, Cathie. She has been connected to some who gather on the board for almost fourteen years (that I’m aware of at the moment). That is a long time to walk along side people loving them and sharing. The community is grieving. Her family is grieving. We pray for their healing now.

     I’ve watched this community “light candles” virtually in her honor, send words of encouragement, prayers, online ((hugs)), and support in any way possible. She made an impact in the lives of many people literally around the globe by sharing her heart, life, talents, and passions. Cathie, I’ve heard, over and over again was a generous gentle gorgeous soul. The community will miss her very deeply. We are so grateful that her family would share her with us. Being a mother and having lost a father, I grieve along side her children.

     When I woke this morning and learned of her loss, I was reminded of a poem by Madeleine L’Engle that comforted me when I lost my father.

                        The earth will never be the same again.

                        Rock, water, tree, iron share this grief

                        As distant stars participate in pain.

                        A candle snuffed, a falling star or leaf,

                        A dolphin death, O this particular loss

                        Is Heaven- mourned; for if no angel cried,

                        If this small one was tossed away as dross,

                        The very galaxies then would have lied.

                        How shall we enter out love’s song now

                        In this strange land where all are born to die?

                        Each tree and leaf and star show how

                        The universe is part of this one cry,

                        That every life is noted and  is cherished

                        And nothing loved is ever lost or perished.

(Madeleine L’Engle, A Ring of Endless Light, Laurel-Leaf Books, 1980)

I don’t often repost someone else’s articles, but this article intrigued me. So I’m sharing it for all moms who surf, blog, tweet, Facebook it, myspace it, or in general use the web to stay connected or get connected. The web community is amazing because of it’s access to so many globally. If you’ve wondered why you connect with joansmith@somewhereincyberspace.org better than just about anyone in your real life that you know… well…. you might not be so alone.

http://finance.yahoo.com/news/Increasingly-Isolated-Moms-bw-510302110.html?x=0&.v=1