Monday Manifesto: the long list of healing

photo by me. march 2009. california.

I don't think a day goes by that part of me doesn't feel broken. Sometimes my mind doesn't recall what I'd like it to. Some days my tongue doesn't speak so eloquently. Other days my heart sinks down into my stomach where it doesn't belong.

I just finished reading a book entitled Finding Beauty in a Broken World. Was weeping at the end with a swollen heart. The book begins with a poem from T.S. Eliot:

These fragments I have shored against my ruins--

The cosmos works by harmony of tensions, like the lyre and bow

And so it was I entered the broken world

Turning shadow into transient beauty--

Once upon a time, we knew the world from birth.

Earlier today I read this passage from another book that is about women: The women appeared confident and self-assured and were obviously intelligent and skillful. As the weekend wore on, each woman began to reveal basic feelings of self-doubt. Each of these women drove themselves to be successful--and in the eyes of the world, they were. Yet, each...revealed that down deep she knew something was wrong with her.


Then I spoke with a dear friend on the phone--she is heart-broken. I know that state of being oh so well. We both worry. We both second-guess ourselves. We both wonder why life hurts so much so often.

Slowly, I am learning to embrace my broken-ness. If I was whole--complete--I wouldn't need you, or anyone else. I am beginning to see that we are broken so that through our relationships we become whole. I am discovering that I learn more from my broken-self than I do from my other selves. I am most articulate when it hurts. I find refuge in breaking down with a loved one. I feel that only then, when my skin is red with tears and my fingers shake, am I truly honest. I know I am incomplete, and need friends, family, and even strangers to fill in the rest. it is then that I recognize the beauty of the earth, and the beauty and magnificence of other humans.

so here it is, the long list of healing--the things i do when healing is hoped for:

01. cry. the kind of crying that makes your entire body cry--letting go in the softness of a bed, or the warmth of some one's arms.
02. kneel on the floor with forehead resting on hands interlaced--talking to myself, to Mother & Father God, to the walls, to the Earth, to the air.
03. stare. i stare at my toes, the freckles on my skin, the colors of the books on my shelves, the shadows in the room. i do nothing but stare, and notice what is right in front of me.
04. write. this is truly a gift from the heavens--to put into words what hopelessness can do, to lay it all out--somehow always ending with gratitude. amazing.
05. Part II of the BBC's Pride & Prejudice. How can you resist giggling when Mr. Bingley so eagerly meets Elizabeth at Lampton Inn and slyly asks about Jane, or when Mr. Darcy is uncontrollably smiling at Elizabeth when she is playing the piano and singing at Pemberley?
06. breathe. with eyes closed. listening to life moving through you. the awe-some gift to be aware of life--that you are alive and complete in your broken-ness.
07. talk. with your best girlfriend, a long-lost friend, your beloved, your mother, your sister. even the phone transfers sobs and laughter. i often wait until i see people face-to-face...i don't need to wait this long. truly, just pick up the phone.
08. read. something sad or something heart-warming. something that helps you to feel more deeply. poetry seems to do the trick quickest of all.
09. move. walk, dance, run, salute the sun or the moon. watch the body cut through the air.
10. cry. we begin and end here because sometimes that's all we can do. and that is enough. when the tears come, it is best to let them. welcome them.

so here's to healing our broken-ness in a beautifully broken world. we are broken for good reason. to find each other, and comfort each other--learning to love the good and the bad in each other. this i believe.

(posted on Sunday--Monday morning I get to pick up my beloved after his weekend adventure)

Manifesto Monday: Relax

photo by me 3.15.09 down by the river

As a yoga instructor, I often find myself repeating to the other students, "relax into the pose...you'll go deeper by relaxing rather than forcing." I say this aloud to others at least nine times a day throughout the different classes I teach.

Today I took a bit of my own medicine. I met with one of my professors to go over a rough draft of a term paper. We went over it, and I receieved some good direction on my project. However, the best part of the meeting was when I relaxed and surrendered...I spilled my guts. I exposed my heart, and let down my defenses. I sighed into relaxation, letting go of what I thought I was supposed to be in front of my professor. She gave me the best advice ever--which was what I already knew about myself, but was just afraid to let go and let it consume me.

As we let go of trying to be something else, and give in to be what we were meant to be (human!) then all things take their natural path. The grass never worries about being as tall as the trees. So I will not worry about being something I am not. I will relax. And I will find peace. This I believe.

Manifesto Monday: Shadow

photo by me. 3.22.09 Davis, CA

I believe in the shadow. Sometimes I think we don't pay attention to our shadow. We're so used to it being around that we hardly notice it. Growing up we used to laugh for hours as we watched how the sunlight distorted our bodies. We played shadow tag, and tried to run from our own shadows. But, of course, we could never quite get away from our shadows. We're stuck with them.
I am grateful to be stuck to my shadow. I am grateful for the not-so-bright parts in my person. I am thankful for my weakness. I am also thankful for the deep and sometimes unseen shadows that are part of me. I am thankful to be "stuck" as a human being...a person with capabilities as well as limitations.
Our shadows remind us that we are indeed human. That all of us are human. Each of us have beautiful bright spots as well as beautiful "shadow" spots. This is how we learn to have empathy, and this is what moves us to learn more, and to dig deep. This I believe.

Manifesto Monday: Honesty

photo: by cig harvey

Everyone believes in honesty, right? Well, I've awakened to a place in my life where I haven't been very honest. Recently I have been talking to a few professors about my desire to go to graduate school. Every time I make an appointment I have to do some serious mediation and breathing to calm myself down. The last thing I want to do is cry in front of one of my professors. Yes, I cry a lot when I think of how far I have to go. It looks hard. I also cry because of my past (not very yogi-like, I know, but it is what it is). My point is, is that when I speak to my professors about graduate school I am not completely honest with them. Perhaps this excerpt from The Power of Kindness will say it better:

But honesty does not concern only the difficult, unpleasant aspects in life. Even more it concerns the creative and beautiful ones. Because often, strange as it might seem, we hide those very aspects: our tenderness, goodwill, original thoughts, our capacity for being moved. We do this partly out of a sense of reserve: We don't want to overwhelm others with our gushing emotions. But mostly we do it to protect ourselves. We don't want others to see us like that. We would feel weak, exposed, perhaps ridiculous. Better to appear a bit cynical, even hard, or, at the very least, not so dangerously open. In that way, however, we separate from the most spiritual and beautiful part of ourselves--and prevent others from seeing it.

I am afraid of looking ridiculous, and exposing my real tenderness and my original thoughts. I am afraid to tell my professors why I truly want to go to grad school, and I am afraid to tell them what I feel are my "original" thoughts. Sigh. So in my efforts to be kind, I must also be honest, no matter the emotions that come gushing out. This I believe.

Manifesto Monday: Time With the Girls!

I believe that spending time with other women is essential to survival. For some reason when CJ and I were first married I became a hermit and seldom spent time with any of my girlfriends or sisters/mom. I don't really know why I did that, but I did. After a few months of being married I had a good friend come visit me...what a blessing she was! We talked and talked, and I learned that I was NOT crazy...or maybe I was, but at least she was crazy too! I was amazed at how much stress was relieved by our laughing and talking together. It saved me from losing my mind and having a serious breakdown. CJ noticed my improved mood, and has encouraged "girl time" ever since. When I'm happier, so is he--naturally! This I believe.

This last weekend I had LOTS of girl time. It was oh so good for the heart and soul!
First, Olivia and I went skiing on Friday up at Alta. We got to talk about how good life is, and how good our significant others are! We laughed about how dramatic we can be, and how we love being women!!

Saturday I went with my mom and my sister to do a ritual that is as old as time. After we did that the smorgasborg began!

First we hit up Elizabeth's Tea house for scones, quiche, and meat pies to take to the grandparents.

Then we headed over to Mini's Cupcakes for a sweet treat indeed.

I could spend an entire Saturday afternoon here!

After lunch & a visit with our grandparents, the girls headed back out again. This time we stopped by The Black Sheep Wool Co. to get some yarn and knitting needles.

(And we may have stopped next door at Backer's and got heart sugar cookies!)

HIP, HIP HOORAY FOR LOVELY WOMEN!

Manifesto Monday (on Tuesday): Neighbors

I believe that we need our neighbors. This morning we awoke to a foot of new snow. I was happy to see such beauty, but knew it would take a toll on my back (and my schedule) to shovel it all by hand. I worked for maybe 20 minutes, and cleared only 15 square feet of my mom's HUGE driveway. Then the phone rang. It was our good ol' neighbor, Norma Lynn. She and her husband have lived next door to us for almost 30 years. Norma Lynn informed us that Riley, her husband, would be right over to snow-blow our drive for us. Hallelujah! My back and schedule were saved! I was no longer doomed to three hours of shoveling. And in return for his good deed, we made him some of our very vest chocolate chip cookies, and we'll take them over warm and fresh on this cold, snowy day. How would we get along without neighbors? We just can't do it alone. This I believe.

photo taken by me...this is my mom's little orchard.

Manifesto Monday: Silence

I believe that silence is healing. I have noticed that when I have had uncomfortable experiences in life--the kind that break your heart and spirit--I seek out solace. I need time to think and process how to heal. Indeed, the best remedy is meditation as I go throughout my days. This past weekend I got a bit discouraged about my schooling, and the goals I have attached to it. (Wishing Ceej was around!). I found peace as I didn't say as much as I usually do in groups of people. I listened. I watched. I rested. I'll probably take a couple more days of solitude to reclaim my enthusiasm for the present and the future. I can feel the silence putting me back together. This I believe.

photo by me. fall 2007. 

Manifesto Monday: Distance

I believe that distance makes the heart grow fonder. CJ and I have been married for 1,845 days. We've haven't seen each other for maybe 60 out of those 1,845. When we first got married I feared the day that we'd spend a night or two without each other due to work or travel. I tried to avoid it, and swore I'd NEVER spend a night away from CJ. Well, our first  night apart came after we had been married nine months...CJ went for a boys trip to Southern Utah. I cried. He offered to stay. But I wouldn't have it. I could be strong. Yes, indeed. Needless to say, we survived our one night apart. Since then, we've survived 2 and 3-week stints. Now we're looking at a regular 2-week separation for the next four months as I live in SLC to finish my BFA. I don't like being away from CJ...it's nice to know that at the end of the day you'll have someone to talk to, vent to, to cuddle with, and that will let you know you're not THAT crazy. But, this I know, that reunions are oh so sweet--there's nothing like it. Hugs have never been so comforting, eyes have never been so bright. This I believe.

Manifesto Monday: Slow Down

Every year the holidays leave me happily dizzy. There are parties to attend (sometimes more than one in a single evening), people to catch up with, gifts to be made and wrapped, recipes to try and taste, lists to check, bags to pack, and cards to write. By New Year's I am overwhelmed, and ready to crawl back into hibernation. For the past few years I have come to realize how easy it is to run faster than is healthy...there is oh so much to enjoy on this earth, so much to learn, so much to share! How can one say "no" to anything?! So, I have to remind myself that "less is more", "do not be hasty", and "don't bite off more than you can chew." I think I could use just a tad bit more "yes" in certain places in my life...however, I think I could honestly use more "no" right at the moment. No, I do not have to spend hours brushing up on photo skills. No, I do not have to cook three amazing meals every day. No, I do not have to attend every yoga workshop available. No, I do not have to go out on the weekends. All I need nowadays is Ceej, a couch, a blanket, and a good book. Yes to deep breaths. Yes to a slower year. This is what makes me fulfilled. This I believe.

photo by aya padron

Manifesto Monday: Silliness

I believe in the liberating power of laughter and silliness. This is something I learned from my mom and her family. They are professional laughers, story-tellers, and jokesters. I remember when all of us kids were growing up we would wonder at how the adults could talk for hours and hours-laughing all the way-though the topics being discussed were of a somewhat serious matter. I have been grateful for the gift of laughter and silliness over the years. It has helped me to "let go" when things get overwhelming. It has helped me to laugh at  myself, and to not take myself so seriously. I am grateful for moments of spontaneous silliness that is unorchestrated, and has absolutely no meaning. I am grateful for impromptu dance and story-telling. It has made my heart light, and given me a renewed spirit to go forward with all that lays before me. This I believe.

Manifesto Monday: Opposition

I believe that there must be opposition in all things. Day and night. Female and male. Masculine and feminine.  Right and left. Heaven and earth. Joy and sorrow. This is a principle that my religion teaches, but I did not actually learn this principle until I started practicing and studying yoga. I learned how to feel content when uncomfortable, and patient when discouraged. I learned that my sorrow is part of my joy--and not only is it part of my joy, but it is essential to my happiness. Without sorrow, my joy would not be full. When I cry because I am sad, my heart is happy because I know my broken heart is essential to a joyful existence. I have learned to make my darkest hours my most enlightened hours. I have come to love winter, when the world is most dark because I have found the most joy there. Indeed there MUST be opposition in ALL things. This I believe.

photo by cig harvey

Manifesto Monday: Homesick

I believe in feeling homesick. When I was in high school I would tell my friends how I wanted to travel the world, and that I would live anywhere but my hometown. How boring to live in the same place all your life! There were so many "cooler" and more "exotic" places to live, work, and play. First, I moved out of my parents' home upon graduating, and moved a full two hours away. As I started out my schooling in Anthropolgy I thought about Italy first. So I started teaching myself a little Italian (Thank you "Italian for Dummies!) I lived abroad in China for 5 months teaching English--which has absolutely nothing to do with Italy, but it was exciting for sure! But, after all this, I moved back home. Inside I was so happy to be back home, but I also felt I had given up on my "big plans." Over the years I have come to realize how important it is to have a sense of "place" and to feel that you belong to a certain geography, to certain people, and to a certain neighborhood. I realized that many people don't like the idea of their childhood "home." They try to avoid it, visit rarely, and speak of its people and sites as "boring." I, on the other hand, love "my" mountains, "my" local stores, "my" friends and neighbors, and "my" family. They give me comfort and meaning. I miss all of these things on a daily basis as I live away from home. Some people call homesickness a weakness. But I think it is a strength that connects me to people and places. This I believe.

Manifesto Monday: Small & Simple Things

Disclaimer: My thoughts are jumbled today, but my heart is full. Please excuse the likely nonsense below.

I believe in small and simple things. To me, the small things are indeed great things. Throughout my life I have been able to do simple things because there was not always the means to do great things. In many ways, this has been a blessing in disguise. Because I did not have the money to study abroad in Europe or to spend a few weeks in Africa tending to suffering people there, I was able to take dinner to my aging grandparents weekly. This has been a most wonderful gift to me. Now that I live far from home I have those memories of sitting at the table with my sweetheart of a grandmother, Celia Jane, and my simply noble grandfather, Newel--these memories are indeed great to my heart. Because I was not able to pursue a college degree at an ivy-league school I was able to take my time with course work, and this time allowed me to do some serious soul-searching along the way. Because I am not an heiress of some great estate I am grateful for $10-date-nights, and the virtue of thrift. I cherish every love note, homemade gift, and kind word spoken. Because my life has not been completely taken over by a lofty career, I have time to watch the snowfall, and to take walks through fall leaves.
I am grateful for the course of my life--it has made it possible for me to notice the small things that are truly great: family, people, neighbors, trees, flowers, leaves, and love notes.

photo: circa 1953 Salt Lake City, UT--Noblice, Dianne, Connie

Manifesto Monday: Storms

I believe in the necessity and beauty of storms. I am not only speaking of the storms of Mother Nature, but of the storms that come to all of us in our lives--especially for women.

There is nothing that I love more than experiencing a terrible storm with loud, rumbling thunder and destructive high winds. It is indeed something both terrifying and thrilling to see the power of Mother Nature. She can bring both destruction and nourishment as she literally changes the landscape. I think of how these storms leave clean air, moist soil, and a calm like no other. I am drawn to these storms in a way that brings a swelling to my heart, and inspires me that I, too, can make great changes leaving the earth new, better, and a place of peace.

I think back on all the storms that women have caused to bring about better communities, environments, and a better world. I remember the women who were fed up with being second-class citizens and unable to vote. They became so passionate that they caused the storm that changed the way the world thought of women, and they got the vote. I think of the women who organized at the beginning of the Civil Rights Movement, because no one else would. They became so angry and motivated to change things once and for all--so they began sitting on busses--immovable.

We look back on these women and the amazing and courageous things they did, and we do not think, "I wish they would calm down" or "what were they getting so worked up about?" We honor these women and their passion--and their ability to start a storm that brought change. I believe, that as women, we have an innate power, our passions, to cause storms to wake people up, to give people courage, to give people hope in better days--to cleanse and to nourish. This I believe.

Manifesto Monday

I believe in family traditions. Like most kids, I spent my Thanksgivings at my grandmother's house with aunts, uncles, grandparents, and cousins--nothing unique or clever even. However, there are special things about the way we do Thanksgiving as a family. Now, don't get me wrong--when I say "special" I don't mean extravagant or fancy--our Thanksgiving are anything but those. Our Thanksgivings consist of family recipes, made by the women for generations. Days go into the preparation of the food. Creating the food is indeed a sacred process. I, who never really knew my great-grandmother, Annie, know her through the recipes she passed to my grandmother, who, in turn, passed them to my mother. Of course, we make what every other family makes: mashed potatoes, stuffing, turkey, cranberry sauce, rolls, etc. But my stuffing will not taste like yours, and you'd probably argue that your family recipe is better, and I'd argue just the opposite. Funny how loyal we are to our family Thanksgiving recipes. Dessert, of course, is pumpkin pie--but there is always banana cream pie as well. I usually take one of each. So the food is definitely important, but the thing I love most is the laughing at the table. There is something about my mother's family that I cherish: their humor. This always comes out when they get together. It is inevitable. As we've grown up, and we don't see the entire family anymore, this is what I miss most. We still have the right food, but we don't always have everyone there. Nevertheless, we go on as we have for generations. This is my connection to family now gone--our traditions. Through the traditions I can smell the smells that they would have smelled, I will taste the foods they tasted, and I will hear the stories they would have told. This I believe.

photo is of a Thanksgiving dinner at my Great-Grandma's, Annie Thayne, house for a Thanksgiving dinner--probably around 1952. My sweet mom is at the bottom-left corner (looking identical to my sister, Liz). Celia Jane is behind my mom, and Annie Thayne herself at the bottom right corner. Three women I owe all my gratitude to.

Manifesto Monday

I'm starting a new little tradition for my blog: Manifesto Monday. Each Monday I will share with you something I believe in--much like the radio program This I Believe that airs on NPR. I will be casually following their guidelines as to how to write a "This I Believe" essay. However, most of my writings will be quite raw--so please forgive any chopiness. I would love for any of you to do the same on your own blogs.

I believe in the power of kind words. About four years ago I applied for a job as an assistant researcher for a well-renowned professor of philosophy at a university. I was a college drop-out at the time, and the only example of my writing I had was a paper written two years previous for an art history course. Not only was that paper not an example of my current writing and research skills, but I had recieved a "C" grade on the paper. Hardly what I had hoped to present to such an intellectual giant, and hopefully future employer. I anticipated our meeting for an interview with great anxiety. "He'll brush me aside quickly, and move on to the next applicant, " I thought. But, oh how badly I wanted that job. I was working full time at a wedding reception center to pay for my husband's schooling. I wanted more than anything to be on a college campus--doing anything remotely scholarly. The moment of the interview came. I handed the professor my "C"-worthy paper. He excused himself for a moment so that he could skim over the paper and the rest of my resume. Oh heart! It was indeed one of those moments that you wish would be over and done with as quickly as possible. Ten minutes later he returned, and sat down next to me at a large and empty conference table. The first words out of his mouth were, "You have a great command over language and words. I am very impressed." What?! Did I hear him right? My heart leaped up, and I wanted to shout for joy. He could have ended there, and I would have been happy indeed. He assigned me to a research team, and I was going to have my dream job. Unfortunately, the university would not allow a non-student to work on the project so I was let go. However, I have looked back to that interview and those kind words over and over again as I am now back in school trying to finish my degree. My writing has since been critiqued and edited--often quite harshly. But those words, "you have great command over language and words" keeps popping up in my mind, and I keep going, trying to find a way to write beautifully and honestly. The power of kind words is great indeed. This I believe.

Almost Vegan Manifesto

I am excited about my first guest-blogger post. See and read it here. And get the menu & recipes here. Leave comments, please!