Change and Transformation - Today and Always!

It is the season of change - as summer winds down and we feel the cool autumn breezes blow in, we know change is coming. Memories of summer vacations are tucked away into photo albums, children are going back to school, summer work hours abate and we dive head first back into our work. Change. Sometimes subtle, sometimes brutal.

Change doesn't ask our permission into our lives. The status quo is comfy, settled into ourselves. If we are lucky, we can foresee it coming and try to adjust with the least amount of agitation to our current situation. Most of the time, it sideswipes us when we least expect it. Think about it - jobs, family, health. No one would ever make changes there if we weren't forced into it.

But change and the transformation that accompanies it can be the best thing we could have asked for. Of course, that is after we have made it through. I've begun the process of looking at Goddesses and their attributes and how they relate to our present lives, how they can help.

Goddess Oya, is a perfect goddess to start this coming season. She represents change and transformation. She is there to help identify and get rid of all the old wood in our lives.

The Goddess of Transformation urges us to die to the old in order to step into the new lives that we desire. OYA is always searching for the parts of you that are outdated and no longer serve you, brings them to the surface and asks that you release them.


But the funny thing is that we fight to hold on to these parts of ourselves. They are comfortable for us. These characteristics and beliefs are what we know and are tied to our identity. And the more we realize they no longer serve us and try to remove them, they hold on tighter in our body, mind and soul.

I'm at that place again; that uncomfortable unknowing that comes from letting go of one object/person/view/thought/fill in the blank,  to make way for the next, the new.  I am excited to understand that by sitting with the discomfort, the anxiety, will unfold the newness of change.  For the first time, I am stepping into an open place and letting it define itself without my pestering input!.  It knows me.  That unknown knows what I am capable of more than I do.  So I will sit quietly (well, maybe not that quietly) and wait for the gift that is coming.  Oy-Ya!
(click on blog title for more info or here on Oya)

This Garment is Wearing Well

This Garment is Wearing Well
An automatic writing piece from a meditation

Put back together what has come undone. The seams have opened before, you sewed them again. Then with wear and tear they opened again in a different place. And you sewed it back together again. Each time the seams get stronger.

The garment is not wearing out, it is wearing well. Each stitch uses a stronger yarn. This garment is fitting you better and better over the years. It has also gotten large enough for others to join you as they find their way.

The life you are stitching together is a piecemeal coat of wonderfulness. You world is under construction – again. But you are not alone and the garment, the life garment you are constructing will fit all in need; all those who are behind you. Light the way so they will walk easier, through a well-worn path with trees that reach out to each person at each juncture, each crossroad.

It is your path; it is their path. Their path is created from yours and will all become universal as one journey of many souls.

Open During Construction

As I move forward and have dropped from my bags the past issues, problems, stories, events, leaving me feeling lighter every day, there is still one “thing” that eludes the shedding. I never imagined that shedding parts of your life would be so exhausting. Or is it that there was way too much stuff attached to me that it took all I had to remove it?

In making one decision, one simple decision, it felt as if layers of me fell off in sheets. Okay, this one done. Now this one. And wow, I forgot about this. Gone too. And not just decisions made. Attitudes totally shifted. The stressors that kept me up at night and made life difficult are now diminished if not gone. They are no longer part of who I am; they belong to who I once was. So bother me if you want, throw your weight at me, make faces, scream. It may ruffle one feather. But for the most part, I am now just caretaking what is on its way out. I will “sit” for it, but not for long.

Another “me” is emerging and it requires all that I have to keep up with it. Yet, there is that nagging item that won't give up. During the turmoil of the last few years, this item moved deeper and deeper into the past. There has been no input from it. Every now and then, it would revisit and its memories would run wildly through my head.

It had been on a hiatus and only now has returned. It does not want to be shed and put on a shelf somewhere in the deep storage of my brain. It is the one item that has not been completed. There has been no door closed and locked on it. And I don’t suppose there will be. At least not in a neat way.

It will hang around and nag me now and then during this new construction phase. Eventually, it will be pushed out of the current chaos and stored on a basement shelf behind a closed door. It will fade, age and decrease in size so that it eventually will fit neatly into an open crevice within my cellar walls. And I suppose that one day, it will crawl out and say, Hey, Babycakes. And I hope that when that does happen, Babycakes will not recognize it nor remember the reasons it was coveted for so long. And then, poof, that old creaky door will close for good.

Foiled by the Thong!

I went to court this morning for the arraignment of the man responsible for the robbery and assault at my store 2 1/2 years ago.


Detective Keats (not his real name) was the police officer who came that fateful day to get evidence from the crime scene. He said to me today, “See, Eden, I told you we’d get the guy. Two and a half years later but we got him.” I responded, “Yes, you said you would,” but deep down I thought it would never happen. And I was okay with that. I was “over” it and had moved on.

Oh, there were about four times since the event that detectives came to the store with photos of suspects for me to look at. And I did my duty of looking at the photos. Prior to them having a fingerprint match, I picked out the guy they thought was the man responsible, out of the photo lineup. But I didn’t have faith that they would find the guy this many years later.

As I sat in court today and looked over to where the detectives sit, I realized I knew most of them. And why? I didn’t meet them at a social or family event. I have met each one due to an incident at the store. And they know me well. I have come to respect and like them all. I don’t think they get the respect they deserve in town.

Dave (not his real name), a patrol/beat cop and part time special forces army reserve specialist, who goes off to duty to very dangerous areas of the world every couple of years and is gone for a year each time, said that most of the cops in town are not very well regarded by some merchants. People assume they are dumb and socially inept.

And I’m thinking, WHY in god’s name would you NOT want these guys on your side? They have come to my aid many times (too many for my liking). I have come to know and love the regular beat cops who patrol the streets and stop in to say hi and chat a bit when on duty. These are the guys you WANT on your side. Dave was on the scene of the last incident right away and told me I scared the hell out of him because he couldn’t see me right away in the window and he thought something bad happened to me. He is the one who tells me the truth about the criminal world and gives me good advice. I respect him and I know he is there to protect me. This burly army dude is a friend now for life. So I know he’s got my back.

The judge on the bench today was identical to a dear friend, and I pictured what Mike would say and do in this situation. I chuckled to myself as I pictured the judge in a Groucho Marx costume, as Mike came dressed in this past Halloween, and doing his judge duties the whole morning in that character.

I didn’t know if “my perp” would be there today as I am not familiar (thank God) with the criminal justice system (although I AM becoming more familiar and that disturbs me). He was being arraigned. As it turns out, his bus was late in getting there but finally arrived with the criminals. When they called his name I didn’t know if it was him. I was never told what his name was. When they called my name along with his, then I finally had a name to put with the face I had identified three times now.

I went up to the bench and the DA pulled me aside to take me to a small room to discuss what would happen. I wanted to look at this man, Edmund Tate. I don’t know why. I kept looking at him. The judge asked him a question and I heard his voice again and I cringed, knowing this was the man who harmed me. I had also asked to hear his voice when I identified him in the physical lineup. I had seen his picture three times and remembered the face but I wanted to make sure it was him. Human senses are amazing for recall. Of all of the senses, smell has the most powerful memory recall system.

"When nothing else subsists from the past, after the people are dead, after the things are broken and scattered• the smell and taste of things remain poised a long time, like souls• bearing resiliently, on tiny and almost impalpable drops of their essence, the immense edifice of memory" -Marcel Proust "The Remembrance of Things Past"

I thought at the physical line up, “If I could only smell him, I would have absolute certainty that he was the man who assaulted me”. Of course I couldn’t, but to this day, I recall the days after the assault, I kept smelling him on me. I was certain that everyone around me could as well, but my husband assured me that there was no smell. That is how profound the sense of smell has on memory.

I think I wanted him to look at me in court, to see the woman who is strong and didn’t fall apart during his assault on me; the one who said no to his demands. I told him he had gotten what he came here for and he needed to leave. I wanted to give him the look that my children and their friends have come to know; the look that Officer Dave said scared the last two guys who attempted to rob me. They told him they didn’t because, one, they saw me press the panic button to call police (I did that right in front of them), and two, they said I gave them a look. My kids said, yep, we know that look. It scares everyone!

So I wanted him to look at me and see that he lost. I remembered everything he did and said and what he touched. He was sloppy that day. He didn’t wear a mask, he didn’t wear gloves. When you get nervous, you start sweating and he left his DNA and fingerprints all over the store. Detective Keats, said he got some juicy fingerprints. The perp was sloppy and cocky enough to think that this is just another robbery that he would get away with. His record is a long one; of robberies, bodily assaults, sexual assaults, and drug deals.

And what does he get caught for? A robbery at a little lingerie boutique in a small town. He left his DNA on a ladies thong that he tore apart to tie me up with. How apropos. He’s going down because his sexual deviate behavior led him to man-handle a thong, to go one step further to intimidate me to show his sexual power over me. For what - a minor haul on his part (he only got a couple of hundred dollars in cash – but he did take my wedding band and my favorite ring from Greece which maybe got him another $100 in pawn money) – all this manliness and power asserted on the wrong person in a tiny boutique in nowhere important.

So I wanted this dickhead to know he messed with the wrong woman. Enough is enough I say. I have had way too many events like this in my lifetime and I am done. Look at my face and know that “look” that scares my children and their friends.

But he didn’t look at me. And they pulled me into the back room before he left the judge’s bench. I looked back like a kid that is being taken away from a really good TV show or baseball game, armed being pulled as I strained to keep my eyes on him.

So that ordeal can now close its door, another chapter over in this life. That door was open a long time. I told a dear friend that I would write a story about it as I had with another horrific event that closed its door many, many years ago. I need to find humor in the tales of my life. I said I couldn’t just yet with this story. She said it needs a little patina on it, a little distance and “curing”. The story I write about it later will indeed find the humor and poignancy that only distance can bring.

However, my son reminded me that this dickhead, prior to leaving, after he tied me up, picked up a little lube on his way out. He said, “the guy probably had his girlfriend in the car who told him, “and don’t forget the lube!” “

He grabbed the box as he ran out. It was an empty display box. The thong “got” him. And no lube.

The Liminal Stage Continues

At the beginning of the year I felt a surge coming of energy and was feeling like I was going to have to hold on to my seat this year as it zoomed forward unabated. At first, there was a period (short as it was) of rest. I was so tired from a crazy year prior that I thought a rest was well deserved, at least in the confines of my own home considering I knew I was unable to "get away".

I asked my son who had moved out a year prior, if I could "redo" his room and make it into my own meditation/reading/writing room. He had been out of college for a couple of years and his room was still the way he left it and it needed a makeover. The makeover was easy. I didn't want to disturb the soul and essence that still existed in the room. This is the room of a gifted artist. A piece of his creative genius exists here. This has become my favorite room in a matter of months. It feels as if I have re-energized what was already in there and infused it with my own. The whole family feels it. The energy seems to have grown.

So I have done a lot of meditating in that room since then. My rest was taken there. I was thinking about all of the ideas I have had in the past year and recently looked at a sort of "to do" list I created prior to the new year. But those ideas that wanted to be nurtured into creation this year have taken a back seat. Not to anything in particular. But the urgency to move in that direction has ceased. Oh, the ideas are still there. I know they never go away.

They have been birthed and I know from experience that they are always being tended to, nurtured, watered, fed and are growing. If I let them be, they will always have the essence of the original idea, only with their own twist. It is fun to see how they transform from the original idea. I've learned not to hold on so tightly to an idea that I stifle it.

I recently came off of a very busy month at the store (thank you universe for looking down on me!) and immediately went on a buying trip in New York. I have not had real time off in two months. Actually, since probably mid January. And I am plumb tuckered out. I wonder if the exhaustion is at the core of those ideas being put on shelves for a while. My angel therapy practitioner told me yesterday that now was a time of holding, not pushing, letting things happen. In order to get an idea in action, you need to create a little heat, a little movement. to kind of get the ball rolling. And then that heat stirs things up and you basically sit back and watch.

Oh, I've created a bit of friction lately, so the fire has been started. And now I'm in a kind of holding pattern, the liminal stage, still. A time of transition when we stand “betwixt and between” one state and another. Kind of like on a fence, although you aren't trying to make the decision as to which way to step. It kind of does it for you. Awkward, yes. The state of neutrality/ ambiguity until we reach full consciousness of the next place, the next stage, whatever you wish to call it. But I am okay with it. Probably because I am so exhausted, I can't fight it or push it where I'd like anyway.

So I think I'll go back into my room. I think it's calling me anyway. I'll release into that betwixt and between state (like I have a choice anyway....) and just flow with it. Not my usual mode of operation, but I think I can get used to it, letting go. And watch what happens....

My Birthday Wish

Okay, I know it's cheesy to post something about my birthday. Everyone will call or email or text and wish me a happy day. But that's not what I'm feeling. Besides, at my age, it is time to STOP celebrating! I wish the years would stop etching lines in my face and coloring my hair without my permission. I really wish I could stop the belly pooch from growing!

But all complaining aside, and I'm not really complaining, I've kind of come to grips with my age and all that comes with it.

My wish is to explore all the ideas that keep popping into my brain. Honest to God, I have never experienced so much neuron activity in my life! It feels like my brain is on speed! And a nice glass of red wine does NOT stop the incessant , continual brain banter.

But on the other hand, it is very exciting to finally know what it is I wish to explore and be okay with it. We hear about enlightenment and being awakened. I've realized that I have had enlightened moments many times. I just didn't trust them. Time like when I feel like everything is the best it can be and there is only hope and happy thoughts and the incredible feeling that I can do anything and that all of those anythings WILL happen.

Those visions motivate action. And any action I take moves me forward. A radical awakening is defined as a shift in self awareness, when you know you are limitless, and able to intuit the real potential in life. Have you been here? I have. Many times. And now I am greedy. I want more of those feelings.

I am the source of all that lies within, growing, feeling, soon to be birthed and nurtured.

I don't take for granted the moments that drop in my lap, like a conversation with a customer that leads to a potential for participation in an amazing project. There is a reason that conversation happened.

For years, I was told that I hopped around from one job, one project, one idea, to another. I guess maybe I did. But it is what was pulling me at those moments and I took the leap of faith, the chance to explore many different paths, experiences.

I am reading The Translucent Revolution by Arjuna Ardagh, and I found myself in the book. It said translucents enjoy creating and letting go of identities, which I have done countless times.

Ardagh says translucence is people who are waking up over and over and experiencing a deeper presence and purpose, a greater sense of joy, new found selflessness and deeper compassion.

Sounds good to me! So I wish myself more of that type of experience, more compassion and love for myself and those around me, and a heck of a lot more fun! Happy Birthday to ME!

Meraki - The Soul's Work

Once again I find myself sifting though old papers that have piled up over the months/years/decades... Lately it has been a time of cleanup in my life. So much has been thrown out from the last incarnation or donated to causes I once did work for. So yes, that does make me feel better that there is use of stuff I have no use for anymore.

And I came across this. Meraki. A Greek word meaning "to do something with soul, creativity, or love; to put yourself into what you are doing."

And again, it popped up when I needed it. Now. Once more sign that tells me I am on the right track. I watched a music show a while ago and they were interviewing Richard Marx, who said when you have a passion, money doesn't drive you, fame doesn't drive you. He said it is this inner passion, a feeling of "there is nothing else", a drive to create regardless of any outer focus. This is the way of the true artist. It is all within. And I get it.

I watch my son, who is a musician, work because he is driven by an inner desire that precedes any outer reason. he gave up a steady gig with steady pay because it did not "juice" him anymore. It didn't fulfill his need to create and he let it go to move forward. He doesn't look back. He moves forward with such confidence. And I get it. So I don't worry. I know he will be fine.

So I continue to clear out, empty, and then water the visions and dreams a bit each day. I know they are growing. I've seen it happen before. And I'll do it with Meraki!

Liminality - the Space In Between

Reality is the place between the sea and the foam. Irish Proverb

Dictionary.com defines it as:

the transitional period or phase of a rite of passage, during which the participant lacks social status or rank, remains anonymous,shows obedience and humility, and follows prescribed forms of conduct, dress, etc.

It is defined as the space in-between. It is emptiness and nowhere. It is a place of dying and rebirth, the space between death and rebirth, something that cannot be seen. Liminality is where transformation occurs. It is when we are betwixt and between, and by definition, not in control. An uncomfortable place to be if you ask me, but a place of impending change, which to me is exciting.

In the book, Crossing to Avalon - it is described as passing through a gateway, a threshold - an in between zone where we are neither who we used to be nor who we are becoming. We are standing in a doorway between two phases of our own life.

In this liminal phase we are vulnerable, thin skinned, which means we are open to new growth. T.S. Eliot wrote about a point of intersection of the timeless with time. It is a place where eternal and ordinary perception overlap the spiritual world and visible reality come together. Only in periods of availability will a person respond to a call to adventure or love and the lessons they bring.

Okay, so what does this mean and why even talk about it? I came upon notes I had taken from books and other readings, which are shared above, at the right time in my life.

As I came back from a spectacular trip to the Omega Institute for a Women's Leadership conference, thoughts were screaming in my head, copious notes had been taken the whole weekend, I rewrote my ideas for a retreat center, cleared out some old personal "garbage", and was ready to take on the work of my next incarnation.

And I got home and none of this happened. I couldn't write, my thoughts were unclear, my head foggy. I got sick recently, which put my head in an ever worse fog and I wondered what happened to that energy and spark that was on fire in New York. Even my meetings with people I met on that trip didn't spark anything new or exciting. What was wrong with me?

Then tonight, as I tried to free write in my journal (with no luck), I came across old notes and writings, which included liminality. And I realized where I was at this moment in my life. Funny, once again, if you look for the signs, they are here in front of you.

I guess I, too, am in another state of transition, that place in between. I am letting go of the old and worn out but the new has not presented itself yet. Jung calls the psychological journey to wholeness as individuation, a task of the 2nd half of life.

So, again, I wait, quietly, because I know in the quiet and nothingness, things are happening that are out of my control, out of my realm of thought. It tires me, this non-work. But it also excites me, as I know out of it comes newness, new thought, new direction, new beginnings, new you.

Seven Year Cycle

"The number Seven was esteemed holy, as is well known, by reason of the six days of creation, and of the seventh, which is the celestial man, in whom is peace, rest, and the sabbath..." - Swedenborg A.R. 657 The last post was about my dying smoke tree. Well, I looked out the window today and every single branch is dying. I resigned myself to letting it go through the winter and then cutting it back in the early spring and feeding it very well to encourage new growth and another year of life. And then it seemed to me that maybe I am being selfish. Maybe I should just let nature take its course and allow the poor thing to die peacefully with no life support of any kind. It blessed me this summer with the most beautiful blooms I have ever seen it its lifetime. And the blooms lasted throughout the rest of the summer and into the fall. It was breathtaking. And it should have reminded me that I certainly know that when a plant blooms this heavy and for so long, it is saying its farewell. Such a sweet thank you I received and didn't pay enough attention to. I planted that tree around 7 years ago. The Seven Cycle Year is the time to rest, to deepen your philosophy, to reflect and build inner reserves. It is the start of the fruition cycle. In the plant stage the plant rests from growth as it puts its accumulated reserves of energy into the blossoms which causes the flowers to unfold. The seven-year cycles are an evolutionary spiral. They belong to every being that has ever been created. There is no one who does not go through them. There is a natural release of energy every seven years which encourages you to move forward and make changes. Every seven years there is, within the system, a total change. If I look back, 7 years ago I had left my position at Garfield Park Conservatory. My swan song had been the county fair of September 2002. It was a glorious finish to my career there, an event coordinated with the City of Chicago's World Music Fest. Over 4 thousand people attended the one day event. It bloomed for a day and then I was gone.

And in the past seven years, I have changed careers, opened a business, lost two parents and other loved ones, lost some friends, and weathered an economic nightmare!

But I have also gained some wonderful new friends, been blessed with a business that allows me to create and expand in so many other ways. I don't know if the last seven years have been restful but they sure have been thought inducing, full of reflection and I have had to build major emotional and energy reserves to keep it all together! All to become the flowering/fruiting process. And that is what my tree did. It spent 6 glorious years building to that last gorgeous bloom and is stepping aside for the next tree, plant, project, etc. As for me, the last seven years have been of change, transition, building reserves, so that the next seven will be fruitful. I do feel that itch. It is an irritation that has no name yet. Just a funny little feeling that started this year, the sixth year. I've felt it before. It is that final push before the next big thing pops up. It used to bother me, that funny little feeling, and it still does. But I get it. I understand. Or at least I know it is temporary. And I look forward to what unfolds next. Because many seeds have been planted in the last seven years. And being a gardener, I know that not all the seeds will germinate. I will have to sit quietly and wait to see what pops up out of the ground. Who knows, maybe it will be a new smoke tree sapling next spring. Oh, I will tend to my dear plant as it fades. If I am diligent, I may be able to steal another year out of it, but I don't think it will bloom as it did this year. And if it quietly goes permanently dormant this winter, I will mourn the loss but celebrate a new season of growth, of change, of awe for the ever changing life around me.

Season of Change

Today I found out my beloved smoke tree has verticillium wilt and it is dying. It started this decline two years ago and I was able to give it a dose of "help" that got it through another couple of years. This summer it bloomed so profusely and it was breathtaking. Unfortunately, I know from years as a horticulturist, that this type of bloom is a plant's last ditch effort to "seed" before it dies. And I believe this is what is happening.

Why am I bothering to tell you this? Well, several things. Attachment is one. I coveted this tree. It is a rare variety that I searched for and finally found at Rich's Fox Willow Pines. Instead of the normal burgundy bloom from the common variety, these blooms started pink and turned rose and then a dark rose and they are so large and last from June through August. I loved that tree and cared for it as I would a child and reveled at the spectacular show every year. And it grew twice the size it's supposed to grow which made me even more proud. I became very attached to that tree.

As many religions will tell you, attachment is not good. And now it is dying. Oh, I will try my best to do whatever I can to save it another year knowing it made its final show for me and now needs to go. And I will cry. And then I will release the pain, rework the yard and find another plant to take its place. Unfortunately, I cannot plant another one like this in the same place as the disease is in the soil would kill the next one as well. So I must say goodbye to my dear friend.

A few weeks back, I said goodbye to another very good friend (human.....) and it hurts badly to do this. But the time had come and change is due. Out with the old.....

It makes me look back to a jade plant I propagated back in school about 22 years ago. One tiny little jade leaf was planted in my basic horticulture class when I was just learning the basics of horticulture. This was when I had made another huge transition in my life and was changing careers and went back to school. I cared for this plant and it grew into a huge jade tree from that one leaf. It would have gone for over $300 in a retail plant shop. I was proud of the work I had done for those 15 or so years.

Five years ago the pot broke and the plant fell out and broke in a million pieces. My huge jade tree was now scattered all over the floor. I was crushed! I took care of that plant for 15 years, grew it into the huge beautiful specimen that it once was!

I then realized that it had served its purpose in my life. I was changing careers again and was saying goodbye to my horticulture career. So I replanted the few pieces into a new pot and started fresh. My life was once again transitioning and with that, death of some sort is inevitable. You cannot start new without the old dying. I let go of that plant, that life period, and faced a whole new season of my life.

So, as much as it pains me to lose my beloved tree, I believe once again it is the season of change. Losing things dear to you makes way for newness, new people, new events, and yes, new trees. Once again, I must let go of the old to make way for the new. And it isn't easy. If it was, we would never change.

Hopefully we learn from those things we must now let go of. My new "old" jade plant is growing nicely. It came back. It is different, but I still have it. And if the people I have had to let go come back, they too will be different. We will be different. And that will be good. And they will be welcomed. As will my beautiful smoke tree, someday....

Dumping

Tonight I gave away more supplies from my last incarnation. Boxes and boxes of dried herbs, candle making supplies, pots, dried flowers, left out the back door and entered into a car that would drive them to a not-for-profit organization who would recycle them into the same crafts I originally bought them for.

It's funny how life cycles, down to flower picks and adaptable tools from 20 years of horticulture programming. It made me feel good to know that these items wouldn't go to a landfill, that some child or person with a disability would benefit. And so my work continues, work that I left behind two years ago now.

Work that I will probably go back to some day. Don't' we all do that? In some form, in some recycled way. Life keeps turning itself over and over. Nothing is new. It may look and feel new, but if you look closely, it is just a shiny new coat of paint over an old and comfortably worn job, or idea, or hobby. That's why it is so comfortable and feels like home.

And when we learn something new, it is woven into our old, comfy ways of doing things. It all becomes part and parcel to our wonderful selves. Yes, aging can have it's aggravations, like stiff joints and a few extra whiskers where there once were none. But it also gives you more patience, more wisdom, more skills.

So now, as I wake each morning with unease, I know I've been there before. Oh, yeah, transition. Done that before. Yeah, it's tough. It doesn't feel good, this out with the old to make way for the new. But I know it will pass. It always does. So now I look at it with wonder and excitement (after I've dealt with the early morning panic!) and know there is some exciting new stuff that is out there brewing. And it's brewing with some of the old stuff, which seasons the pot and makes for a better outcome.

I'm just one big recycled life. But no one picked up my old life in their car tonight. Just some old stuff pushed out of an old life.

Clearing Out to Make Way for New

Oh how cliche! How many times have we heard this saying. Clean out the old to make way for the new. But what the heck does that mean? At one point in my life it used to be clearing out the old clothes/shoes/purses/underwear to make way for a new batch that was probably already in the house with nowhere to be stashed.

Or at another time, it was clear out the old boyfriend as the new one was waiting in the wings. Or on a sadder note, clearing out your desk as in you've been fired!

But now, as I move along further towards my "golden years", clearing out takes on a whole new meaning. Literally, I DO need to clean and clear out. A lifetime of hoarding - for what I ask - has led to a pile of junk. Add to that the piles of junk of two sons and a husband and you have what it takes to be a guest on the TV show, Hoarders. I, for one, cannot take it anymore. And I seem to be the only one in my house who agrees!

I can't think anymore. The clutter of a lifetime and the increasing "clutter" in my brain, has made it imperative to start dumping. There isn't one inch of room left to ponder, to wonder, to create, let alone think about the next phase of my life.

They are wrong when they say, once the kids are grown, you will have all this time and space to enjoy life. For me, it has become more complicated. There is a grown son on the verge of something quite large and it excites me to have a hand in that, to help, to guide. A husband, who is also needing to sow some new oats, and a teenager who wants to be everything that has ever crossed the dinner table as an idea! I find it all very exciting but it is taking up a big part of space in my ever decreasing brain space.

So, since I am only one person and no longer "superwoman" (was I ever?), I started with the garage yesterday. After all, it was Labor Day. So I labored. Such a need came over me to clear out my last incarnation with was sitting under the current incarnation. Oh, I gave up horticulture programming for good two years ago but couldn't' quite get the nerve to rid myself of all the supplies stored in every nook and cranny for the last 20 years.

"I just might go back to that, you never know......" I am finding out, too, that there are people and relationships attached to those items as well. So I'm clearing out tangible as well as intangible items. Great, more "stuff".

So now, they lay neatly in boxes and piles, waiting for the lucky person who is in need of those supplies for their own programs for adults or children. Who knows, they might be ridding themselves of their own last incarnation to make more room for my supplies!

And as each shelf emptied, a small space was created in my being. In the past, I might have run to fill that space. But no longer is that necessary. I will patiently keep clearing out till there is nothing left but empty space. In the garage, in the basement, in my head. What a glorious moment that will be. And the feeling of floating on air, weightless. What a great place to begin again from. I would like it to happen prior to my Omega Institute trip end of month. Wow, only a couple weeks away.... gotta run...... more to clear.....

Funny Times Ahead!

So four of us have decided to create a performance group, kind of a spoken word type of group. And word has it we will take it to the streets, so to speak, and do live performances. I really don't have an issue with this as I have performed most of my life, some in ways I would like NOT to remember!

What is interesting is there are four views on each topic. We all put ideas in a hat and have chosen (from that hat), which topics we will address. One word - four voices. And in a way, we have begun learning about one another. It seems that my life is a tragic one, full of bad mothers and abusive fathers. While I can laugh at all the "tragedies" now, it wasn't always that way. I survived, have lived to tell the next tale, and have made lemonade out of the lemons that were tossed into my cook pot.

It has also made me think about how those stories created themselves and more so, about those that affected them. Yes, we can all say we had terrible upbringings, full of dysfunction and drama. But if you look deeply at the people whom you'd like to blame for that dysfunction, you will also see the sadness and tragedy that formed their lives and souls.

Of course, there are some people who are just evil and brought to this earth to mess up those closest and dearest to them. I lived with one. But can I be so cliche to say that she helped make me the person I am now, more soulful, more compassionate of those closest to me? I think I can. So I can say a thank you now. The difficulties have passed. I can laugh at them. I can also cry at them still. And they continue to shape my ever changing being.

Reworking a Life....Again

I was recently given a not so great health diagnosis and then a few days ago, my father-in-law passed away from a long arduous battle with cancer. Two big eye openers. Firstly, I looked at the diagnosis as, "hey, how do I fix it and when do we start?". I was told it was incurable and f course, I don't respond well to that kind of talk. To tell you the truth, I don't have time for a persistent problem. Let' fix it and get on with it. I looked into it, got some answers (and some more questions...) and decided to hit it head on with medical, dietary, spiritual and holistic guns. It had been festering for quite a while I am told, and finally decided to pull out all the stops to get my attention. That is usually what our bodies do. They will give you some warnings to alert you of their presence and allow you to make changes for the better. If you ignore them, they hit harder until they knock you right off your feet (s this one did). Time for a change. And then my father-in-law died. We knew it was coming so everyone prepared as best as you can. He died with his whole family (immediate and extended) surrounding him. We even got a laugh at the last moments when I said something to him and he let out a loud response (unidentifiable) as if to say "fuck you!", which was something I would have expected from him in our relationship. We always gave each other shit but there was a deep respect and love underlying every sarcastic comment. So he got the last word, he made us laugh before he took his last breaths as if to say, get over it, I am fine! What really astounded me was the depth of love that was in the house that morning. When both my parents died, it was a very lonely experience. My mom died alone and my father collapsed and by the time my brother and I got him back into bed, he was breathing his last breaths. While it was the most profound experience to have my dad look into my eyes as he passed on, it was also very lonely. In comparison, the other day was a glorious expression of love and tribute to a man who was truly loved. So I take these recent experiences and begin once again to look at where I am in life, what my expectations are and were, and re-evaluate one more time. And realize that NOTHING is static, NOTHING ever goes as you initially plan it, and it has left me with a head full of NOTHING. Which is a good place to start. Again. When I can't come up with an answer, a next step, I know it is a good place because there is a wide open canvas to work from again. I am not saying that my dreams have dissipated. My retreat center dream is still alive and cooking. But the path to get there appears to have shifted and fallen away. And I have not built another or it has not presented itself...yet. And the one thing that makes me the most uncomfortable is not knowing. Which is my lesson. To be still and let the next steps unfold themselves without my interference. I have stopped trying to force the issue. My soul will NOT allow me to throw my two cents in anymore. All it wants is quiet. Only then will it reveal itself in small pieces. My only job was to let it all go - the plan that was in my head. The dream is still very much alive. And the clues have started presenting themselves. I noticed one today. I believe it planted itself in my deep knowing self where it will be fertilized organically, not forced. It does take a dramatic life changing event to wake us stubborn, blinders on, people. As open as I am to change and whatever comes, we get caught up in life and the thoughts of future, and need a kick in the pants to reboot. I had two kicks in the pants in a month. I think the universe is trying to tell me something. I hear you world. I listened. I let go.

Letting Go, Part 2

To “let go” is to fear less and love more.

Age 50 was a difficult one. 40 didn't do anything to my psyche. But 50 has been a very weird year. Very transitional as well. A new thought process has taken place. What once mattered no longer does. And the worst part is letting go of old thought patterns, dreams way past their prime and relationships that have outlived their usefulness and can't walk with me into the new place that is being forged as I write this. That is the saddest thing to understand. Dreams can be fleeting and can be replaced by new dreams, or refashioned into new versions. But relationships cannot perform in the same way. People don't change, at least not their basic traits and values. I look at people who have been in my life for a very long time who just don't fit anymore. It is sad because as much as I don’t want to let them go, I have no choice. We have no control in our lives anyway, as much as we think we do. And the more we try to control our lives, the more out of control we become.

Then I think of the adage, "Let someone go, if they come back to you it was meant to be". My fear is that they come back and I'm not interested. I read that letting go of someone or something feels like your skin has been removed and you spend a deal of time with it raw and exposed before it starts to heal up again. Letting go of something that has past its expiration date does two things. It opens you up t all sorts of new possibilities. That “thing” was taking up too much space and energy and nothing else could grow. Kind of like thinning out the forest so the new saplings can have light and room to grow. But it does another thing too.

Letting go forces you to look at what you are leaving behind with microscopic eyes. You see all of the flaws that were not visible earlier on. And a great deal of those flaws are your own. It hurts badly. I’ll be the first to admit it. It gives you the opportunity to live with those flaws, change them, let them work out their own issues without intrusions of your views and ideas, and last but not lease, work through the pain. There is always (at least in my world) the question of what I could have done differently to not have to be in this letting go place. Can’t help it – it is an ingrained, learned trait that I will fight with till the end. It also gives me the opportunity to lessen that trait a bit and let myself know that this is a normal pattern of life.

Things, people, change. Nothing is static. Someone told me that relationships are like a figure eight pattern. When you are in a relationship and everything is working fine, you are intersecting at the same place. Then over time or circumstances, one moves faster or slower and you aren’t intersecting at the same place anymore. Then you are out of sync. The question is if you will get in sync again or are permanently on a different course. The more you try to make something happen, the further away you get from it. Same with a dream. I have a dream of what I’d like to see happen but I’ve learned painfully that I must let it find its path (with a small amount of help on my part) and give it the freedom to change and grow. Just like a child, it wants its own freedom to explore.

Life changes course on a regular basis. Who am I to fight where it wants to go? I can put my wishes out in the collective conscious and sit back and wait to see what happens. The more I try to control or fight it, the further away it gets from me. All I can do is let it all go, plant the seeds and see what happens.

So I will try to fear less and love more, love myself more especially. To know that I am on the right path, whichever one it is, and to love where I am, accept the things I cannot change, and cherish the wisdom that comes from the pain as well as joy. For without the pain of change and letting go, one cannot know the joy of what is yet to be.

eden

Baubo's Garden

Letting Go

To “let go” does not mean to stop caring; it means I can’t do it for someone else.

To “let go” is not to cut myself off, it’s the realization I can’t control another.

To “let go” is not to enable, but to allow learning from natural consequences.

To “let go” is to admit powerlessness, which means the outcome is not in my hands.

To “let go” is not to try to change or blame another; it’s to make the most of myself.

To “let go” is not to care for, but to care about.

To “let go” is not to fix, but to be supportive.

To “let go” is not to judge, but to allow another to be a human being.

To “let go” is not to be in the middle arranging all the outcomes, but to allow others to affect their own destinies.

To “let go” is not to be protective; it’s to permit another to face reality.

To “let go” is not to deny, but to accept.

To “let go” is not to nag, scold or argue, but instead to search out my own shortcomings and correct them.

To “let go” is not to adjust everything to my desires, but to take each day as it comes, and cherish myself in it.

To “let go” is not to regret the past, but to grow and live for the future.

To “let go” is to fear less and love more.

Author Unknown

warmest regards, eden

Baubo's Garden