I'm finding my adjustment to my new life and new language in Uzes, France to be interesting and challenging in ways that were/are unexpected. Why anything should be expected in this transition, since so much is an unknown, is a mystery. But, the mind loves to create expectations based on past experience. So, I just keep crashing through expectation after expectation. And, my mind, relentless tool that it is, just keeps setting them up over and over again.
I've only been here a month, but time is such a relative thing. This month feels like forever and no time at all. I have to keep reminding myself that I've only been here a month when I'm not able to understand what's said to me in French, and when I'm not able to say what I want to say without struggling. I've done pretty well for only a month. I've also had an amazing amount of help from one kind and generous person after another, without any of whom life would have been so much more difficult.
Moving to a foreign country and immersing oneself in a new culture, language and way of life is a challenge any way you look at it. Things are encountered that one can't possibly have prepared for or known about. And, even in a first-world, Western-culture country such as France, the differences are many and basic and require an inordinate amount of adjustment. But, I'm finding my way. I'm making new friends. I'm getting done what needs to get done. I'm starting to feel comfortable.
When I first got here, just walking out my door to do the most basic of functions carried a certain amount of anxiety. There was, and still is, so much to figure out. But, bit by bit, things become familiar. Ways of doing things are shown or figured out. The processes of daily life reveal themselves. Little things, like going to the Post Office, become less and less mysterious. People speaking to me in French are starting to make sense, at least partially, with every word I hear. Repetition is a wonderful teacher.
The telephone is still a major challenge, but I'm getting better at it. Sometimes, I have to call a number many times and listen to the voice prompts over and over and over before they start to make sense and I can choose the right prompts to get where I need to get and do what I need to do. I have to ask people to speak slowly and simply to help me understand. I still need help translating things. I am a child in this language and this culture, and I must be comfortable with that.
I am starting French conversation classes at the local Universite Populaire on March 11, after the ski holiday is over. And, I'm hoping to find another French class so that I have at least two a week. The focus and support of regular classes will help a lot. Along with hearing and using French every day, plus reading it in endless instances out of utter necessity, will all push me forward to greater fluency and comfort in my new language.
I have not bought a car and am not driving yet, but that will come in its own time. I find that my life is much slower and more simple without a car, and I get a lot more exercise because I do a lot of walking. Endless thanks go out to my friend, Geoffrey, who drives me if I need to go somewhere farther afield; and, endless thanks also go out to my friend, Debby, who allows Geoffrey to drive her car--which we call The Tardis--while she is not here. We call the car The Tardis--a reference to the Dr. Who TV series--for its ability to hold so much more than one might expect it to. We've gotten amazing amounts of things into the back of the car.
This is a quiet place and I sleep much better here than I did in the U.S. I sleep deeply and have started dreaming in a way that I wasn't previously. I am more calm and am constantly nurtured by the beauty that surrounds me at all times. I'm starting to feel a rhythm and a balance to life here that is very reassuring and supportive. I am opening more and more to this place as it opens more and more to me, and I'm feeling a sense of deep peace as the days go by.
This move hasn't been easy by any stretch of the imagination, and I know I have challenges to overcome that are yet to be revealed, but it's been worth everything it took to get here. I have no regrets for leaving and only gratitude for where I am and the life that is unfolding around me. No matter what Life calls you to, or what the challenges that might be required to get there, know that it will be worth it. Say "yes" and jump in. Answer the call.
Thursday, February 25, 2016
Sunday, February 7, 2016
Ode to Geoffrey, and the Basis of Trust
A friend of mine posted a quote on Facebook last week that struck me to my core. I will repeat it here, because it deserves repeating.
"We cannot train our babies not to need us. Whether it's the middle of the day or the middle of the night, their needs are real and valid, including the simple need for human touch. A 'trained' baby may give up on his needs being met, but the need is still there, just not the trust." --L.R. Knost, www.RelationshipsLoveHappiness.com.
Wow... Such understanding and compassion, at a very deep level. And, so far-reaching in its implication in our lives.
I was born to two young high school students who, wisely, made the decision to give me up at birth and allow me to be adopted. I spent the first seven weeks of life alone in a crib in a home for unwed mothers. What I remember of that time--yes, babies do remember--is being cold and confused and that the light was too bright; that there were others around, but more at a distance. Seven weeks of my needs being met in only the most basic of ways; no loving touch or caring physical contact.
I was adopted by parents who were desperate for a child, and who wanted to raise their child "correctly." I was their first child, and they turned to the advice and information given by Benjamin Spock in a book called "The Common Sense Book of Baby and Child Care." It was a very popular book in the 1950's, and there might be some very good advice in that book, I don't know. But, there was some advice that my parents followed that was detrimental, especially for a child such as myself, who had developed trust issues from birth.
For the first three years of my life, my mother would put me to bed and then sit with me and stroke my head until I fell asleep. But, at three, it was decided that I had to learn to fall asleep on my own and the bedtime communion with my mother would stop...cold turkey. So, she would put me to bed and then walk away and leave me alone to find sleep on my own. This is what Benjamin Spock supposedly said to do in his book, according to my mother, who told me about it later.
This sudden abandonment at bedtime created confusion and anger. I would scream for hours before tiring myself and finally falling asleep. According to my mother, Benjamin Spock also said to leave the child alone and let them cry and that they'd get over it. So, my parents would sit in the living room, listening to me scream, and will themselves to ignore me. After a certain amount of days, I became trained to the new normal of being left alone at bed time. The screaming stopped. But, the sense of abandonment and confusion did not. I was simply trained to realize that my needs at that time, and in that situation, were not going to be met.
We are trained from a young age to accept that many of our needs will not be met. We're ignored and pushed aside in our own needs in order to fulfill the needs of our parents and other caretakers. It ends up being more about what the caretaker wants than what the child wants and is trying to communicate in order to have their needs met. And, it happens throughout our lives. We do this to each other all the time. We might state that we want a certain thing, or need a certain thing, and our partner or friend will say back to us, "You don't need that. Here, have this instead." Or, "You don't really want that, what you want is this." Or, the actions of others often very clearly state that our needs or wants are unimportant to them. They are so clearly focused on meeting their own needs or wants, that ours are pushed to the side, and we are forced to abandon them or to compromise them.
I have spent a large portion of my life listening to other people tell me what I want or don't want, what I need or don't need. Sometimes I would listen or compromise, sometimes I would walk away. But, it's difficult to ignore those with whom one is in relationship. And, it would often take me many years to realize the depth to which I had compromised myself, my wants and my needs. Most of our patterns are set when we are very young, and this pattern for me has perpetuated itself for long enough.
My friend, Geoffrey, who has been driving me around and helping me because I do not yet have a car of my own in my new home of Uzes, France, is outside this pattern. I realize that one of the reasons my whole process of going through what needs to be accomplished to establish myself here and meet my needs in this new place, is that Geoffrey has never superseded my needs with his own. He has never tried to talk me out of anything I've needed to do or to buy, or to convince me that something other than what I want would be better. He has consistently done what he said he would do in a completely supportive and accepting manner. He has gone out of his way to help me meet my needs. This is a rare occurrence in my life. His gift of selflessness in this first week of my birth into a new place and culture has helped me to feel more at home here than I normally feel anywhere. He has made me feel accepted and respected in a way that touches me deeply. And, I now see that a pattern of distrust and unmet needs is finally able to be dismantled and set aside.
Our lives are filled with angels, some we recognize and some we don't. Some receive our gratitude and some we take for granted. Some help us in ways we can see and understand, and others help us in ways that are impossible to comprehend. But, they are there. Geoffrey is one of my angels. He is lifting me up in simple yet profound ways, for which I shall forever be grateful. He is helping me into awareness and assisting me in transforming a destructive pattern that I have carried from birth. Because of his friendship, I am forever changed for the better. And, he is simply being who he is. I don't think he has any conscious idea of how impactful his presence and friendship with me has been and continues to be.
We often don't realize how important it is to really show up for each other; to listen to each other, respect each other, and accept each other. The gift of really seeing each other and supporting each other in our journeys, instead of trying to affect or overrun each other's journeys, is a gift beyond measure. Being able to see, accept and support another in their journey and their choices, even when that journey and those choices differ from ones we would make for ourselves, is a deep lesson that is ongoing day by day. Life has sent me an angel and teacher in this very important lesson, in my friend, Geoffrey. And so, I find myself yet again, on my knees in gratitude.
"We cannot train our babies not to need us. Whether it's the middle of the day or the middle of the night, their needs are real and valid, including the simple need for human touch. A 'trained' baby may give up on his needs being met, but the need is still there, just not the trust." --L.R. Knost, www.RelationshipsLoveHappiness.com.
Wow... Such understanding and compassion, at a very deep level. And, so far-reaching in its implication in our lives.
I was born to two young high school students who, wisely, made the decision to give me up at birth and allow me to be adopted. I spent the first seven weeks of life alone in a crib in a home for unwed mothers. What I remember of that time--yes, babies do remember--is being cold and confused and that the light was too bright; that there were others around, but more at a distance. Seven weeks of my needs being met in only the most basic of ways; no loving touch or caring physical contact.
I was adopted by parents who were desperate for a child, and who wanted to raise their child "correctly." I was their first child, and they turned to the advice and information given by Benjamin Spock in a book called "The Common Sense Book of Baby and Child Care." It was a very popular book in the 1950's, and there might be some very good advice in that book, I don't know. But, there was some advice that my parents followed that was detrimental, especially for a child such as myself, who had developed trust issues from birth.
For the first three years of my life, my mother would put me to bed and then sit with me and stroke my head until I fell asleep. But, at three, it was decided that I had to learn to fall asleep on my own and the bedtime communion with my mother would stop...cold turkey. So, she would put me to bed and then walk away and leave me alone to find sleep on my own. This is what Benjamin Spock supposedly said to do in his book, according to my mother, who told me about it later.
This sudden abandonment at bedtime created confusion and anger. I would scream for hours before tiring myself and finally falling asleep. According to my mother, Benjamin Spock also said to leave the child alone and let them cry and that they'd get over it. So, my parents would sit in the living room, listening to me scream, and will themselves to ignore me. After a certain amount of days, I became trained to the new normal of being left alone at bed time. The screaming stopped. But, the sense of abandonment and confusion did not. I was simply trained to realize that my needs at that time, and in that situation, were not going to be met.
We are trained from a young age to accept that many of our needs will not be met. We're ignored and pushed aside in our own needs in order to fulfill the needs of our parents and other caretakers. It ends up being more about what the caretaker wants than what the child wants and is trying to communicate in order to have their needs met. And, it happens throughout our lives. We do this to each other all the time. We might state that we want a certain thing, or need a certain thing, and our partner or friend will say back to us, "You don't need that. Here, have this instead." Or, "You don't really want that, what you want is this." Or, the actions of others often very clearly state that our needs or wants are unimportant to them. They are so clearly focused on meeting their own needs or wants, that ours are pushed to the side, and we are forced to abandon them or to compromise them.
I have spent a large portion of my life listening to other people tell me what I want or don't want, what I need or don't need. Sometimes I would listen or compromise, sometimes I would walk away. But, it's difficult to ignore those with whom one is in relationship. And, it would often take me many years to realize the depth to which I had compromised myself, my wants and my needs. Most of our patterns are set when we are very young, and this pattern for me has perpetuated itself for long enough.
My friend, Geoffrey, who has been driving me around and helping me because I do not yet have a car of my own in my new home of Uzes, France, is outside this pattern. I realize that one of the reasons my whole process of going through what needs to be accomplished to establish myself here and meet my needs in this new place, is that Geoffrey has never superseded my needs with his own. He has never tried to talk me out of anything I've needed to do or to buy, or to convince me that something other than what I want would be better. He has consistently done what he said he would do in a completely supportive and accepting manner. He has gone out of his way to help me meet my needs. This is a rare occurrence in my life. His gift of selflessness in this first week of my birth into a new place and culture has helped me to feel more at home here than I normally feel anywhere. He has made me feel accepted and respected in a way that touches me deeply. And, I now see that a pattern of distrust and unmet needs is finally able to be dismantled and set aside.
Our lives are filled with angels, some we recognize and some we don't. Some receive our gratitude and some we take for granted. Some help us in ways we can see and understand, and others help us in ways that are impossible to comprehend. But, they are there. Geoffrey is one of my angels. He is lifting me up in simple yet profound ways, for which I shall forever be grateful. He is helping me into awareness and assisting me in transforming a destructive pattern that I have carried from birth. Because of his friendship, I am forever changed for the better. And, he is simply being who he is. I don't think he has any conscious idea of how impactful his presence and friendship with me has been and continues to be.
We often don't realize how important it is to really show up for each other; to listen to each other, respect each other, and accept each other. The gift of really seeing each other and supporting each other in our journeys, instead of trying to affect or overrun each other's journeys, is a gift beyond measure. Being able to see, accept and support another in their journey and their choices, even when that journey and those choices differ from ones we would make for ourselves, is a deep lesson that is ongoing day by day. Life has sent me an angel and teacher in this very important lesson, in my friend, Geoffrey. And so, I find myself yet again, on my knees in gratitude.
Sunday, January 31, 2016
Here and Now
I'm in Uzes. Finally. To stay. I'm still processing that. My being is still grounding into my body in this place, still catching up. Some of me had gone ahead, some of me has stayed behind and is lingering with the old place. It is a process for all of me to make it here and coalesce into who I am in this new place and create what my life will be here.
I am still me, of course. But, that we are different in different places is real. The place and the people affect us, and we change and grow because of them. This place will require new things of me. I will have to find parts of myself that were lost or that I didn't know existed. I have to get to know myself in a new way...allow myself to rise in a new way.
One of the things my mind wants to do is to compare how things are here with how things were in the old place. No. That is of no value. It doesn't matter how things were, it only matters how things are...here...now. Things won't be the same here. Everything will be different. Some things better, some things worse, but only if I get caught in the comparison of old and new. The comparison takes me out of being with what is. The comparison is a method of staying with the old. And, now, it's not about staying with the old, it's about opening to the new.
I am starting slowly, oozing into the energy of today. My mind runs through lists of what there is to do here and wants to move into the day. But, my body is tired from the travel of getting here and wants to sit and take it all in. So, I sit. I let my mind run in circles because there's no corralling it, but my body is quiet. It's an overcast, gray sky that greets me and covers my world. Birds fly across the frame of my window. A cat creeps across the roof across the street. I feel my butt on the seat cushion of my chair and my feet as they rest on the floor as my fingertips move across the familiar keys of my computer. It's quiet and I'm comfortable and I have all that I need in this moment.
My cat, Sophie, continues to wander the new space, discovering everything there is to know about the feels and smells and shapes of things. She's been more affectionate with me during this journey and we've grown closer. Our love and interdependence with each other has grown deeper. I am her only anchor in a changing world. Having her with me is a great gift. She is my heart, my companion, my friend, my child, my supporter. She uplifts me and grounds me into the present at the same time. I am grateful for her presence in ways that defy words and fill me to overflowing.
My heart is full in this moment and I'm grateful to everyone and everything that has conspired to get me and Sophie here. It took an enormous amount of Life force to magnetize everything into the reality of this moment. And, it is that enormity of Life force that renews me and keeps me moving. We don't accomplish things all at once, we accomplish them step by step, bit by bit...digestible bits...as my friend calls them. You don't eat the whole piece, you eat it in bits, digestible bit by digestible bit.
And so, I walk into my new life moment by moment, savoring each one, letting the moments wash over me as they string themselves together and open the path before me. Step by step, one foot in front of the other. Keep walking.
I am still me, of course. But, that we are different in different places is real. The place and the people affect us, and we change and grow because of them. This place will require new things of me. I will have to find parts of myself that were lost or that I didn't know existed. I have to get to know myself in a new way...allow myself to rise in a new way.
One of the things my mind wants to do is to compare how things are here with how things were in the old place. No. That is of no value. It doesn't matter how things were, it only matters how things are...here...now. Things won't be the same here. Everything will be different. Some things better, some things worse, but only if I get caught in the comparison of old and new. The comparison takes me out of being with what is. The comparison is a method of staying with the old. And, now, it's not about staying with the old, it's about opening to the new.
I am starting slowly, oozing into the energy of today. My mind runs through lists of what there is to do here and wants to move into the day. But, my body is tired from the travel of getting here and wants to sit and take it all in. So, I sit. I let my mind run in circles because there's no corralling it, but my body is quiet. It's an overcast, gray sky that greets me and covers my world. Birds fly across the frame of my window. A cat creeps across the roof across the street. I feel my butt on the seat cushion of my chair and my feet as they rest on the floor as my fingertips move across the familiar keys of my computer. It's quiet and I'm comfortable and I have all that I need in this moment.
My cat, Sophie, continues to wander the new space, discovering everything there is to know about the feels and smells and shapes of things. She's been more affectionate with me during this journey and we've grown closer. Our love and interdependence with each other has grown deeper. I am her only anchor in a changing world. Having her with me is a great gift. She is my heart, my companion, my friend, my child, my supporter. She uplifts me and grounds me into the present at the same time. I am grateful for her presence in ways that defy words and fill me to overflowing.
My heart is full in this moment and I'm grateful to everyone and everything that has conspired to get me and Sophie here. It took an enormous amount of Life force to magnetize everything into the reality of this moment. And, it is that enormity of Life force that renews me and keeps me moving. We don't accomplish things all at once, we accomplish them step by step, bit by bit...digestible bits...as my friend calls them. You don't eat the whole piece, you eat it in bits, digestible bit by digestible bit.
And so, I walk into my new life moment by moment, savoring each one, letting the moments wash over me as they string themselves together and open the path before me. Step by step, one foot in front of the other. Keep walking.
Wednesday, January 20, 2016
A New Way of Seeing
Sophie and I just went through a bit of a breakdown, or breakthrough, as I like to see it. We've both been dealing with a lot getting ready to move to France, and we've been adjusting and integrating pretty well up until this week. But, as happens with breakthroughs, we're both feeling better now that we're through it.
Sophie had to go in for her last veterinarian visit on Monday in order to get all her travel papers signed by the USDA-certified vet. She's basically fine, but I'd been noticing behavior that told me her anal glands needed to be expressed, and she's "barbered" her lower stomach...shaved herself, so-to-speak. The expressing happened--which can not be a pleasant experience--and the vet wanted to put her on antibiotics, both for that and because she thought there might be a bladder infection. After three doses of the antibiotics, Sophie was throwing up and had diarrhea, so I stopped the medication and we went back to the vet today. Only today, Sophie got to see her regular vet, Dr. Mariann Rozsa, of the Bayside Vet Hospital in Point Loma, for all you San Diego folks. Dr. Rozsa is a miracle of a vet and a feline specialist. She loves cats and Sophie loves Dr. Rozsa as she loves very few people. Sophie was calm throughout the visit and didn't fight when she got a B12 shot or had a pill put down her throat or got put back into her carrier. You would have thought she was a different animal. She didn't cry on the way home, ate two plates of food and immediately went to sleep. She's fine. No more antibiotics, just probiotics to sprinkle on her food and three more pills for nausea and done. Dr. Rozsa treated Sophie with such love that Sophie perked up, received energy from the visit, and calmed down...all at the same time.
Why Sophie's anal glands and why now? A cat's anal glands secrete when the cat's bowels move. It carries hormonal information and, through scent, any animal that smells the information contained in the secretions knows everything they need to know about the cat who secreted it. It's identifying information. It's who the cat is. In my view, Sophie has lost a clarity about who she is. She's gone through a lot in the last few years...a number of moves, losing a "brother" cat with whom she had a very conflicted relationship, losing her older "sister" cat who she loved and with whom she's lived her whole life, being left alone with a caretaker while I walked The Camino, and then being left alone again almost immediately when I went back to France to find a place to live. It would be a lot to adjust to and process under any circumstances, but to then add this huge move across the world to all of what she's already been through, put her into an identity crisis. Sophie has to see herself differently, in the same way that I do. She is no longer who she was, and is in the process of rebirthing herself into who she will be in our new home and new life...creating a new identity.
Yesterday, I drove up to the USDA office in El Segundo, which is just south of the Los Angeles airport. I had to take Sophie's travel papers there to get everything officially stamped, signed, and numbered. Thanks to Jennifer, in the Bayside Vet Hospital office, all the paperwork was in order and complete. So, $38 and an hour and a half later, I was on my way.
I had been fine on the way up to LA but, on the way back, my left eye started to tear and felt scratchy and got swollen and started creating mucus. By the time I got back to San Diego, my left eye was practically swollen shut. I've never had conjunctivitis, but I figured that's what I had. Why I had it was a mystery, but have it I did. I went to bed early and hoped that it would be better when I got up, but no. Both eyes were affected, but my left eye was extreme. I had to find a doctor.
I went to a family clinic near my sister's house, ended up being referred to another clinic in a different part of town, went there, waited about three hours, and saw a lovely doctor who told me not to worry and that I'd be fine in a few days. He prescribed antibiotic drops for my eyes and some allergy pills to reduce the swelling and sent me on my way. Done. My eyes are already feeling better.
Why my eyes, specifically why my left eye, and why now? Well, the physical trigger was that I'd been helping my sister clean out her garage and back porch for the last week, which meant considerable amounts of dust for my system to deal with. But, I've been in dusty situations before and not developed conjunctivitis or had an extreme allergic reaction, so why now? The answer I got was because I need to see in a new way. And, specifically, I need to see in a more feminine way--left eye. Yes... I'm leaving my country and everything I know to move to a new country and live a different life. My life will look/be different in all aspects. I will be seeing new things and seeing new ways of doing things. I will need to see things differently in order to adapt to my new culture and adopt new customs and ways of being. My eyes needed to be cleaned out and reset. I needed to come into a visceral awareness of the need to see in a new way.
I'm moving from a very masculine, aggressive culture in the US to a very feminine, receptive culture in France. It's so important that I see this and see the difference between the two. I will have an enormous amount to do when I get to Uzes. I have to set up my apartment, starting from scratch. My normal way of getting this done would be to launch an all out assault, attack the situation and wrestle it to completion. One way to do it. But, I need to pull myself back from my old normal. The old way will not be the most effective way in my new home.
Fortunately, without realizing it, I arranged to arrive in Uzes on a Saturday afternoon. Fortunate because that means my first full day there will be a Sunday. On Sundays in France, everything is closed and life is slow and people enjoy the day. This means, I can't even try to hit the road running. I will take Sunday to get to know my new apartment. I'll spend time in it and measure it and let it talk to me. Every space wants different things and different colors. Every space has a certain feel and flow to it that tells you where to place the furniture. And, having a whole day to get to know my new space before putting one thing into it is a real blessing.
Sophie and I leave San Diego next Tuesday, fly away on Wednesday, and arrive in Uzes on Saturday. Our day of departure from all that's comfortable and familiar is drawing near. I've been so focused on getting everything done in order to be ready to leave--masculine aspect--that I've given very little attention to the emotional impact of leaving--feminine aspect. But, because of what's happened for both myself and Sophie over the last few days, I've given the emotional aspect a chance to talk to me and catch up. So, I'm seeing more clearly, all is indeed well, and I am yet again on my knees in gratitude, which is never a bad place to be.
Sophie had to go in for her last veterinarian visit on Monday in order to get all her travel papers signed by the USDA-certified vet. She's basically fine, but I'd been noticing behavior that told me her anal glands needed to be expressed, and she's "barbered" her lower stomach...shaved herself, so-to-speak. The expressing happened--which can not be a pleasant experience--and the vet wanted to put her on antibiotics, both for that and because she thought there might be a bladder infection. After three doses of the antibiotics, Sophie was throwing up and had diarrhea, so I stopped the medication and we went back to the vet today. Only today, Sophie got to see her regular vet, Dr. Mariann Rozsa, of the Bayside Vet Hospital in Point Loma, for all you San Diego folks. Dr. Rozsa is a miracle of a vet and a feline specialist. She loves cats and Sophie loves Dr. Rozsa as she loves very few people. Sophie was calm throughout the visit and didn't fight when she got a B12 shot or had a pill put down her throat or got put back into her carrier. You would have thought she was a different animal. She didn't cry on the way home, ate two plates of food and immediately went to sleep. She's fine. No more antibiotics, just probiotics to sprinkle on her food and three more pills for nausea and done. Dr. Rozsa treated Sophie with such love that Sophie perked up, received energy from the visit, and calmed down...all at the same time.
Why Sophie's anal glands and why now? A cat's anal glands secrete when the cat's bowels move. It carries hormonal information and, through scent, any animal that smells the information contained in the secretions knows everything they need to know about the cat who secreted it. It's identifying information. It's who the cat is. In my view, Sophie has lost a clarity about who she is. She's gone through a lot in the last few years...a number of moves, losing a "brother" cat with whom she had a very conflicted relationship, losing her older "sister" cat who she loved and with whom she's lived her whole life, being left alone with a caretaker while I walked The Camino, and then being left alone again almost immediately when I went back to France to find a place to live. It would be a lot to adjust to and process under any circumstances, but to then add this huge move across the world to all of what she's already been through, put her into an identity crisis. Sophie has to see herself differently, in the same way that I do. She is no longer who she was, and is in the process of rebirthing herself into who she will be in our new home and new life...creating a new identity.
Yesterday, I drove up to the USDA office in El Segundo, which is just south of the Los Angeles airport. I had to take Sophie's travel papers there to get everything officially stamped, signed, and numbered. Thanks to Jennifer, in the Bayside Vet Hospital office, all the paperwork was in order and complete. So, $38 and an hour and a half later, I was on my way.
I had been fine on the way up to LA but, on the way back, my left eye started to tear and felt scratchy and got swollen and started creating mucus. By the time I got back to San Diego, my left eye was practically swollen shut. I've never had conjunctivitis, but I figured that's what I had. Why I had it was a mystery, but have it I did. I went to bed early and hoped that it would be better when I got up, but no. Both eyes were affected, but my left eye was extreme. I had to find a doctor.
I went to a family clinic near my sister's house, ended up being referred to another clinic in a different part of town, went there, waited about three hours, and saw a lovely doctor who told me not to worry and that I'd be fine in a few days. He prescribed antibiotic drops for my eyes and some allergy pills to reduce the swelling and sent me on my way. Done. My eyes are already feeling better.
Why my eyes, specifically why my left eye, and why now? Well, the physical trigger was that I'd been helping my sister clean out her garage and back porch for the last week, which meant considerable amounts of dust for my system to deal with. But, I've been in dusty situations before and not developed conjunctivitis or had an extreme allergic reaction, so why now? The answer I got was because I need to see in a new way. And, specifically, I need to see in a more feminine way--left eye. Yes... I'm leaving my country and everything I know to move to a new country and live a different life. My life will look/be different in all aspects. I will be seeing new things and seeing new ways of doing things. I will need to see things differently in order to adapt to my new culture and adopt new customs and ways of being. My eyes needed to be cleaned out and reset. I needed to come into a visceral awareness of the need to see in a new way.
I'm moving from a very masculine, aggressive culture in the US to a very feminine, receptive culture in France. It's so important that I see this and see the difference between the two. I will have an enormous amount to do when I get to Uzes. I have to set up my apartment, starting from scratch. My normal way of getting this done would be to launch an all out assault, attack the situation and wrestle it to completion. One way to do it. But, I need to pull myself back from my old normal. The old way will not be the most effective way in my new home.
Fortunately, without realizing it, I arranged to arrive in Uzes on a Saturday afternoon. Fortunate because that means my first full day there will be a Sunday. On Sundays in France, everything is closed and life is slow and people enjoy the day. This means, I can't even try to hit the road running. I will take Sunday to get to know my new apartment. I'll spend time in it and measure it and let it talk to me. Every space wants different things and different colors. Every space has a certain feel and flow to it that tells you where to place the furniture. And, having a whole day to get to know my new space before putting one thing into it is a real blessing.
Sophie and I leave San Diego next Tuesday, fly away on Wednesday, and arrive in Uzes on Saturday. Our day of departure from all that's comfortable and familiar is drawing near. I've been so focused on getting everything done in order to be ready to leave--masculine aspect--that I've given very little attention to the emotional impact of leaving--feminine aspect. But, because of what's happened for both myself and Sophie over the last few days, I've given the emotional aspect a chance to talk to me and catch up. So, I'm seeing more clearly, all is indeed well, and I am yet again on my knees in gratitude, which is never a bad place to be.
Monday, January 11, 2016
David Bowie
David Bowie's death is all over the media today, as it should be. A giant has passed from us and gone on to the next phase of his journey. We are sad at our loss of him, grateful for being alive on the planet with him and being given the chance to experience the brilliance of his work while we were here, and inspired by his ability to continue expressing his brilliance right up to his passing.
He was a master, in ways that many of us are not. He was not a big person physically, but he was indeed a big person in terms of his expression and his impact on all of us who knew of him or knew him, or received the grace of his work. I particularly revere the creatively unique and expressive people we've been gifted with because I've always struggled so with my own creativity, uniqueness and expression. David Bowie's ability to know who he was, embrace and accept himself, and then express himself out for us to learn from and enjoy was a rare gift of humanity for all of us to witness. We have so few souls among us who are able to do that at the level he did.
David Bowie's death also reminds me that no matter how we manage to live, none of us are exempt from the seeming vagaries of human life. Because of my own creative struggles, I can trick myself into a destination frame of mind about my own journey...if I could just express my creativity my life would be better, I would be better, I would be healthier, I would be more loved, I would be more accepted, I would be...fill in the blank. Many of us hinge things on the result of something else. And, it's such a misconception in terms of the way things work. I know this but it doesn't stop me from going there, all to often.
David Bowie was beautiful, successful, wealthy, creative, expressive, loved, talented...on and on and on. Those things gave him a rich and wonderful life, but not a life devoid of pain, heartbreak, loss, disappointment, sickness and all the other things we might consider negative that make up a human life. None of us are immune to the full spectrum of being human, no matter how masterful we are in any area of who we are or how we live. And, that's really the point. I sometimes have difficulty remembering that we all came here to experience life in a body in all of its aspects. And, some of those aspects rip us apart and bring us to our knees in despair and sorrow. But, those aspects of life that temporarily destroy us, and from which we need to rebirth ourselves and rise again, are the ones that build our character and through which we learn who we are and by which we are deepened and grow in compassion and understanding. They are the aspects that grow us and make us strong.
Nothing we do gets us out of anything. We can't avoid life. David Bowie didn't try to avoid life, he embraced it up until the moment he died. He lived fully and he died fully, surrounded by those who loved him. He showed us what a full life looks like and how to pass gracefully from this world. He left us with a great legacy from which we will all be able to expand ourselves and learn from for a long time to come. We will be uplifted by his work for generations. We will look upon images of his beauty in awe. He indelibly imprinted his vibration upon this planet and upon all of us who were lucky enough to be here with him.
We honor you as you pass from us, David. We will not forget you. On wings of angels! Fly free!
He was a master, in ways that many of us are not. He was not a big person physically, but he was indeed a big person in terms of his expression and his impact on all of us who knew of him or knew him, or received the grace of his work. I particularly revere the creatively unique and expressive people we've been gifted with because I've always struggled so with my own creativity, uniqueness and expression. David Bowie's ability to know who he was, embrace and accept himself, and then express himself out for us to learn from and enjoy was a rare gift of humanity for all of us to witness. We have so few souls among us who are able to do that at the level he did.
David Bowie's death also reminds me that no matter how we manage to live, none of us are exempt from the seeming vagaries of human life. Because of my own creative struggles, I can trick myself into a destination frame of mind about my own journey...if I could just express my creativity my life would be better, I would be better, I would be healthier, I would be more loved, I would be more accepted, I would be...fill in the blank. Many of us hinge things on the result of something else. And, it's such a misconception in terms of the way things work. I know this but it doesn't stop me from going there, all to often.
David Bowie was beautiful, successful, wealthy, creative, expressive, loved, talented...on and on and on. Those things gave him a rich and wonderful life, but not a life devoid of pain, heartbreak, loss, disappointment, sickness and all the other things we might consider negative that make up a human life. None of us are immune to the full spectrum of being human, no matter how masterful we are in any area of who we are or how we live. And, that's really the point. I sometimes have difficulty remembering that we all came here to experience life in a body in all of its aspects. And, some of those aspects rip us apart and bring us to our knees in despair and sorrow. But, those aspects of life that temporarily destroy us, and from which we need to rebirth ourselves and rise again, are the ones that build our character and through which we learn who we are and by which we are deepened and grow in compassion and understanding. They are the aspects that grow us and make us strong.
Nothing we do gets us out of anything. We can't avoid life. David Bowie didn't try to avoid life, he embraced it up until the moment he died. He lived fully and he died fully, surrounded by those who loved him. He showed us what a full life looks like and how to pass gracefully from this world. He left us with a great legacy from which we will all be able to expand ourselves and learn from for a long time to come. We will be uplifted by his work for generations. We will look upon images of his beauty in awe. He indelibly imprinted his vibration upon this planet and upon all of us who were lucky enough to be here with him.
We honor you as you pass from us, David. We will not forget you. On wings of angels! Fly free!
Friday, December 11, 2015
Inhabiting Our Creation
I have signed the rental contract for my apartment in Uzes, France. I have completed my pile of paperwork to submit to the French Consulate in Los Angeles for my long-stay visa. I've done everything I can do at this point in terms of paperwork that will allow me to transport my cat, Sophie, internationally. I've made my airline reservations and bought my one-way ticket to France. And, I continue packing and vacating my life in San Diego.
Moving from one country to another is a complicated business. As with all things, one doesn't really know what one is getting into until one starts on the path. I have days of great accomplishment and I have days of feeling lost where I wander around and get nothing done. But, on those days when nothing seemingly gets done, I think what's really happening is a lot of processing and integration. A good deal might be happening in the world of form, but it's internally where things are really rearranging themselves.
We feel a pull to something, and we move toward the pull, but in order for us to open to a new way of being and living, we have to change within ourselves. There is an alchemy that takes place within us that makes us able to move into and embrace the new life. We have to become the person who is able to live the life we see for ourselves. And, this type of alchemy takes a lot of energy. As we walk forward physically, creating the change in form, we are being transformed internally so that we are able to vibrate in resonance with the new choices we're making.
As we move forward we're confronted by new ideas, new situations, new ways of doing things, new ways of perceiving things, new people, new places, new language, new culture. It's all this newness that keeps things interesting and draws new Life through us. It is the newness that expands us and grows us. But, it is also the newness that tires us and overwhelms us and pushes us to our limits and beyond. Some days I just want peace and comfort. Some days I don't have the energy to greet the newness of things. Some days I want to hide and pull the bed covers over my head.
I still have a lot of steps to walk through to get from San Diego to Uzes, France. And, I do better when I focus on what's in front of me and do things as they show up to be done. It's when I look ahead at everything yet to be done and all of what remains that it can seem overwhelming. But, no matter what it is we ever do, it's done in bits and pieces, step by step. I tend to get ahead of myself. So, I need to constantly remind myself to stay present and to breathe. I also need to remind myself how amazingly well things are going. When I get ahead of myself I tend to fret when there's no real need to. When I'm able to stay present, I calm down.
I'm excited and I'm terrified by the big changes I've put into motion for myself. Big changes bring up big insecurities. But, it's in walking through the big changes that we quiet the noise of the insecurities and find confidence in ourselves. Change isn't easy. When Life calls us to something, it's usually not because it's easy or safe or comfortable; it's because it's challenging and expanding and it's what grows us. And, as I walk forward, I feel the new Life opening to me. People show up to tell me things I need to know and help me along the way. Synchronous things occur and events take place and the puzzle pieces fit together, because this is the way Life works when we inhabit our creation.
When we live and breathe and inhabit our creations, we grow into them and they form themselves around us. This is how we draw Life through us. This is how Life increases itself. This is how the path appears out of nothing. This is the dance. It's a never-ending spiral, like a DNA strand. Life, everlasting. Life, constantly drawing us forward. Life, in motion. Life.
Moving from one country to another is a complicated business. As with all things, one doesn't really know what one is getting into until one starts on the path. I have days of great accomplishment and I have days of feeling lost where I wander around and get nothing done. But, on those days when nothing seemingly gets done, I think what's really happening is a lot of processing and integration. A good deal might be happening in the world of form, but it's internally where things are really rearranging themselves.
We feel a pull to something, and we move toward the pull, but in order for us to open to a new way of being and living, we have to change within ourselves. There is an alchemy that takes place within us that makes us able to move into and embrace the new life. We have to become the person who is able to live the life we see for ourselves. And, this type of alchemy takes a lot of energy. As we walk forward physically, creating the change in form, we are being transformed internally so that we are able to vibrate in resonance with the new choices we're making.
As we move forward we're confronted by new ideas, new situations, new ways of doing things, new ways of perceiving things, new people, new places, new language, new culture. It's all this newness that keeps things interesting and draws new Life through us. It is the newness that expands us and grows us. But, it is also the newness that tires us and overwhelms us and pushes us to our limits and beyond. Some days I just want peace and comfort. Some days I don't have the energy to greet the newness of things. Some days I want to hide and pull the bed covers over my head.
I still have a lot of steps to walk through to get from San Diego to Uzes, France. And, I do better when I focus on what's in front of me and do things as they show up to be done. It's when I look ahead at everything yet to be done and all of what remains that it can seem overwhelming. But, no matter what it is we ever do, it's done in bits and pieces, step by step. I tend to get ahead of myself. So, I need to constantly remind myself to stay present and to breathe. I also need to remind myself how amazingly well things are going. When I get ahead of myself I tend to fret when there's no real need to. When I'm able to stay present, I calm down.
I'm excited and I'm terrified by the big changes I've put into motion for myself. Big changes bring up big insecurities. But, it's in walking through the big changes that we quiet the noise of the insecurities and find confidence in ourselves. Change isn't easy. When Life calls us to something, it's usually not because it's easy or safe or comfortable; it's because it's challenging and expanding and it's what grows us. And, as I walk forward, I feel the new Life opening to me. People show up to tell me things I need to know and help me along the way. Synchronous things occur and events take place and the puzzle pieces fit together, because this is the way Life works when we inhabit our creation.
When we live and breathe and inhabit our creations, we grow into them and they form themselves around us. This is how we draw Life through us. This is how Life increases itself. This is how the path appears out of nothing. This is the dance. It's a never-ending spiral, like a DNA strand. Life, everlasting. Life, constantly drawing us forward. Life, in motion. Life.
Tuesday, December 1, 2015
All Is Well
The theme for this month's astrology forecast from The Power Path by Lena Stevens is "Transition." And, I'm smack dab in the middle of huge transition. I guess that makes me right on time, not that it feels like that. It feels like chaotic free-fall. But, I keep reminding myself that if I step on the path, the path will appear. Yes. Trust and let Life take the wheel.
My transition feels like a high-wire act with no net. I have to let go of everything on one side of it in order to allow in what's on the other side. No matter how trusting one thinks they are, this type of situation brings up all of one's insecurities. I know to give my insecurities their space and let them talk away while not buying into them, but in the actual living of it, it's not always easy to do. So, it's a bit of a see-saw emotionally.
Our egos are set up to be concerned for our survival. And, homelessness, even transitional homelessness, gets the ego all stirred up. Open-ended situations of blind trust are not where the ego shines. But, in spite of all the warnings my ego is sending me, both through my own mental spinning as well as being reflected through people in my world, I continue forward into unknown territory. The knowing that is emerging deep within me is that All Is Well. I keep saying that to myself. And, it's true, even though I have no idea what it's all going to look like.
I've got a lot of balls in the air right now, and it's going to take a few more days for the important ones to settle into the palm of my hand. Time constraints keep cropping up around all of the elements involved. But, so far, All Is Well. I have a place to stay during the time I have to be out of my apartment in San Diego and when I leave for France, which, until yesterday, I didn't have. All the things I own are literally flying out the door to all the craigslist angels who are coming to buy them. Paperwork and insurance issues and health coverage issues and cat transport issues are coming together. It's my final resting place in France that's still not completely settled, but the apartment situation is in process as I write this.
The place I thought I was going to live in near Montelimar did not end up being the right place for me once I saw it. It was too far out in the country and too isolated for someone who wants to be able to walk to French classes and interact with French people in a village setting everyday. I've made friends in Uzes, which was starting to feel like home when I left to come back to San Diego, and it was clear to me that that is where my heart is.
So, Transition, yes, with a capital "T." Trust, yes, with a capital "T." No matter what's happening, focus on what I'm creating, do not get distracted by the small stuff, and keep walking. And, always remember that All Is Well. Thank you, thank you, thank you...my mantra.
My transition feels like a high-wire act with no net. I have to let go of everything on one side of it in order to allow in what's on the other side. No matter how trusting one thinks they are, this type of situation brings up all of one's insecurities. I know to give my insecurities their space and let them talk away while not buying into them, but in the actual living of it, it's not always easy to do. So, it's a bit of a see-saw emotionally.
Our egos are set up to be concerned for our survival. And, homelessness, even transitional homelessness, gets the ego all stirred up. Open-ended situations of blind trust are not where the ego shines. But, in spite of all the warnings my ego is sending me, both through my own mental spinning as well as being reflected through people in my world, I continue forward into unknown territory. The knowing that is emerging deep within me is that All Is Well. I keep saying that to myself. And, it's true, even though I have no idea what it's all going to look like.
I've got a lot of balls in the air right now, and it's going to take a few more days for the important ones to settle into the palm of my hand. Time constraints keep cropping up around all of the elements involved. But, so far, All Is Well. I have a place to stay during the time I have to be out of my apartment in San Diego and when I leave for France, which, until yesterday, I didn't have. All the things I own are literally flying out the door to all the craigslist angels who are coming to buy them. Paperwork and insurance issues and health coverage issues and cat transport issues are coming together. It's my final resting place in France that's still not completely settled, but the apartment situation is in process as I write this.
The place I thought I was going to live in near Montelimar did not end up being the right place for me once I saw it. It was too far out in the country and too isolated for someone who wants to be able to walk to French classes and interact with French people in a village setting everyday. I've made friends in Uzes, which was starting to feel like home when I left to come back to San Diego, and it was clear to me that that is where my heart is.
So, Transition, yes, with a capital "T." Trust, yes, with a capital "T." No matter what's happening, focus on what I'm creating, do not get distracted by the small stuff, and keep walking. And, always remember that All Is Well. Thank you, thank you, thank you...my mantra.
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