tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34286677050814882142024-03-01T21:23:37.266-06:00Marilou's reflectionsLiving life through questions. Discovering truth through compassion. Expressing voice through words. Capturing moments through images.
Namaste.Marilouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04754311331904306582noreply@blogger.comBlogger492125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3428667705081488214.post-4982321801867307022024-01-01T09:11:00.004-06:002024-01-01T09:11:47.467-06:00Morning Musing to My Senior Dog<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">My sweet boy Legacy turned 12 this year. I walked with him on Saturday morning (12/30/2023) and when I got home I reflected on our morning walk together ... my morning walks are my sacred and cherished times with each of my pups. Every day I rotate who I walk with ... on Saturday, it was Legacy's turn.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq6m8D_zivfC_W4JcvB5qfZNmG8xprAnuk4vUAsvp08R7pOP60uXMWGFwGAk-8Nyq5m8yJ0w6W24EmrxMpjXo6ih7IHPcX8X2N2_h-30yCE4t-EhkgaDTU6Itm7ewVs8GAVxJvzDncV6KGLzXJWb4lTh6qEPusaalkqSik50RsBnUGDWBHUKYIRcgH7bvs/s4032/IMG_7663%20(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq6m8D_zivfC_W4JcvB5qfZNmG8xprAnuk4vUAsvp08R7pOP60uXMWGFwGAk-8Nyq5m8yJ0w6W24EmrxMpjXo6ih7IHPcX8X2N2_h-30yCE4t-EhkgaDTU6Itm7ewVs8GAVxJvzDncV6KGLzXJWb4lTh6qEPusaalkqSik50RsBnUGDWBHUKYIRcgH7bvs/s320/IMG_7663%20(1).jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Legacy - Dec. 2023<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><b style="color: #202124; font-family: georgia; font-size: 16px; font-variant-ligatures: none; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Morning Musing to My Senior Dog</b></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.1px;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 16px; font-variant-ligatures: none; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space-collapse: preserve;" /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 16px; font-variant-ligatures: none; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space-collapse: preserve;">A time will come when my sunrise walks with you will be a memory, a series of magical moments in my heart</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.1px;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 16px; font-variant-ligatures: none; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space-collapse: preserve;" /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 16px; font-variant-ligatures: none; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Till then, I memorize the way you look at me</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.1px;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 16px; font-variant-ligatures: none; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space-collapse: preserve;" /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 16px; font-variant-ligatures: none; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space-collapse: preserve;">The way you gently tug on the leash</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.1px;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 16px; font-variant-ligatures: none; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space-collapse: preserve;" /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 16px; font-variant-ligatures: none; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space-collapse: preserve;">The way you mark every tree, pole, special patch of grass saying “I was here”</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.1px;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 16px; font-variant-ligatures: none; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space-collapse: preserve;" /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 16px; font-variant-ligatures: none; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space-collapse: preserve;">The way you look at me with those soulful eyes</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.1px;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 16px; font-variant-ligatures: none; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space-collapse: preserve;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 16px; font-variant-ligatures: none; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space-collapse: preserve;" /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 16px; font-variant-ligatures: none; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I memorize the way your beautiful bushy tail wags in excitement, the unique markings of your shades of brown on your beige body and the heart shaped brown spot on your back leg</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.1px;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 16px; font-variant-ligatures: none; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space-collapse: preserve;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 16px; font-variant-ligatures: none; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space-collapse: preserve;" /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 16px; font-variant-ligatures: none; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I touch your chest. I feel your heart. I sense the vibration of every heart beat. Your heart sweet boy is my heart. </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.1px;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 16px; font-variant-ligatures: none; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space-collapse: preserve;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 16px; font-variant-ligatures: none; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space-collapse: preserve;" /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 16px; font-variant-ligatures: none; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space-collapse: preserve;">My heart hurts thinking of the day when this moment, this sunrise walk with you will be a memory. And I remind myself to return to this moment. I memorize and inhale every feeling, sensation, of our connection into every cell of my body. </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.1px;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 16px; font-variant-ligatures: none; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space-collapse: preserve;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 16px; font-variant-ligatures: none; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space-collapse: preserve;" /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 16px; font-variant-ligatures: none; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space-collapse: preserve;">This morning, my friend Anticipatory Grief paid me a visit. And with her came my other friend Presence.</span></span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-variant-ligatures: none; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space-collapse: preserve;" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: 16px; font-variant-ligatures: none; letter-spacing: 0.1px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYiub9LYm24UpH70a8pGdo6JQT-IvaMDlHUZEFuYayMpWRvWfKh68CtRFQjA4Ab3fjWm-xT8vjqnLyblnMC4bzWcxzqlDwO1kPO5l23ciESgDtPUUYAQHIkiPIFuQxd9lXXg8ygoiV6v8PMBGZPJvQjpsoNGFJ4mcBzopnsbb7VTk4K9ZBwc_K0VmkBbm0/s2048/ML%20and%20baby%20Legacy%20Sep2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1361" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYiub9LYm24UpH70a8pGdo6JQT-IvaMDlHUZEFuYayMpWRvWfKh68CtRFQjA4Ab3fjWm-xT8vjqnLyblnMC4bzWcxzqlDwO1kPO5l23ciESgDtPUUYAQHIkiPIFuQxd9lXXg8ygoiV6v8PMBGZPJvQjpsoNGFJ4mcBzopnsbb7VTk4K9ZBwc_K0VmkBbm0/w400-h266/ML%20and%20baby%20Legacy%20Sep2011.jpg" title="Baby Legacy in 2011" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby Legacy in 2011<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><p></p>Marilouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04754311331904306582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3428667705081488214.post-36929335635009982432023-11-23T10:53:00.002-06:002023-11-23T10:53:48.365-06:00Lessons from my Achilles Tendon<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyI4tGooyac62M4pS7vveTNRsJjACppCB1a2lRTdkvHL2P4blz7OnMIPTzbfgY1NnIjsnpkrvFoKL9O1QQ8M5QJWO63ia2nhLUUFdfHgSrQjmDPjnNfnHYt-HizgdoMNyNmgzLSfIeg9_6e6bxPR9oiqK7jh27KG_CyPPylsGeC1faWcw01w6L5j_CAmM7/s4032/sunrise%20Nov2023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyI4tGooyac62M4pS7vveTNRsJjACppCB1a2lRTdkvHL2P4blz7OnMIPTzbfgY1NnIjsnpkrvFoKL9O1QQ8M5QJWO63ia2nhLUUFdfHgSrQjmDPjnNfnHYt-HizgdoMNyNmgzLSfIeg9_6e6bxPR9oiqK7jh27KG_CyPPylsGeC1faWcw01w6L5j_CAmM7/s320/sunrise%20Nov2023.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;">A little over 3 months ago I had surgery to repair my ruptured achilles tendon. Somewhere along my life’s journey I learned to not depend on others. That giving was much easier for me than receiving. That putting others ahead of me came without even thinking. That to ask for help was a sign of weakness? Was it because I grew in the beautiful country of Thailand, in a country and culture where community and “We” came before “I”? Was it because I was let down and disappointed when I built up the courage to ask for help? Was it because as a little girl I remember feeling so alone, huddled in the corner of my room crying and praying someone would hear me and come to comfort me - and no one came? Whatever the reason, I have to come to learn that asking for help and support makes my body contract and I have also learned it is okay to ask for support. That yes, some will let me down but not everyone will. That harm caused by one or a few does not mean harm will be caused by all. <br /></span><p></p><div><span id="docs-internal-guid-34e00b8e-7fff-cdb3-da82-659d5ba9eeaa"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">With my achilles rupture and after surgery I would not be able to walk or put any weight on my injured leg for 2 weeks and the recovery would be months … with 3 pups and living alone there was no way I would be able to manage on my own. I got uncomfortable and asked for support. A dear friend of mine watched and cared for one of my pups - the young active one :). My sister flew into town and stayed with me for a couple weeks to help care for me and my other two pups. I would not have been able to manage without the support of family and friends. Friends came by to bring food to just hang out with me. My neighbor picked up my mail and wheeled my trash, recycling and compost bins to the end of my driveway. Every day I had to practice leaning in and resting into the warmth and beauty of being held and supported … to not push it away. The achilles tendon is the thickest and strongest tendon in the body. Amazing how I took my achilles tendon for granted until the day she ruptured on the tennis court. My love and appreciation for the strength and role of my achilles tendon has shifted drastically … I have also had to practice deep patience in the healing journey. 13 weeks post surgery I am still unable to do a single leg calf raise. What I AM able to do which brings me great joy is return to my morning walks to the water … I rotate taking my beautiful pups (Legacy, Ishkode and Migizi). Quality time with each of them by the water and now walks to welcome the day and the sun as she wakes up and emerges over the horizon. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I have come to love and appreciate my achilles. I am learning to listen and pay attention to all the teachings and lessons from this injury, from allowing others into my circle to support me; to receiving; to persist and know that healing is not linear; to appreciate all parts of my body especially parts I have taken for granted; to honor and remember to live in balance and in harmony … the achilles is the tendon that allows me to balance on my feet and I am learning to notice every ligament and muscle around my achilles .. the weak spots that require more attention from me to strengthen her … my daily exercises focus on strength and balance and being patient with that which is weak within me and to love all within me, both strong and weak.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Some day I will be able to do a single leg calf raise and when that day arrives I will celebrate and express deep gratitude for the beautiful tendon that is teaching me Balance, Persistence, Grace, and Connection.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span id="docs-internal-guid-3abc9cda-7fff-9f8c-759a-e341edeedbed"></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">My achilles has given me the gift of awakening me to how this magnificent tendon is a reflection of my life in mind, body, heart and spirit.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWN7ZddSo2k3pQxGIe-lrCXPD0S4eH5JLtGTullBJnNxa9FePg7N7zQULzKYtApDKwmewXXVIIIhyL37mJCkwN8fXKG6-aKKumZftFgA0Li9sjjzYq9TV5E6_7ubdlwWBZ0_PaaLoBoYeTbyJBwgF9B3rGwGRZ3oDZtjpOGTcSzf1S4IMepVWpBVdKTJXK/s1440/18B617C7-533A-4D74-9AFC-1676A920061B.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1440" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWN7ZddSo2k3pQxGIe-lrCXPD0S4eH5JLtGTullBJnNxa9FePg7N7zQULzKYtApDKwmewXXVIIIhyL37mJCkwN8fXKG6-aKKumZftFgA0Li9sjjzYq9TV5E6_7ubdlwWBZ0_PaaLoBoYeTbyJBwgF9B3rGwGRZ3oDZtjpOGTcSzf1S4IMepVWpBVdKTJXK/s320/18B617C7-533A-4D74-9AFC-1676A920061B.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Legacy</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIGfHFPj4m_6MiutWDZvkAKQMBtGuYwtNyjkjT-Ickh4bbM8FGj6HHkuGP3FJEW2t-eg3TziIIqF8DcWXBOfeEkf6onljDTvzYX4OyLnhArstqdgB0l4y6t1BoyhJYYncW3ZkTf-o1w5JEpuEKFzFnQrNitAaLt1dLEwA75Pk_rrLvkhppMTtIWFJHIoSF/s4032/IMG_7454.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIGfHFPj4m_6MiutWDZvkAKQMBtGuYwtNyjkjT-Ickh4bbM8FGj6HHkuGP3FJEW2t-eg3TziIIqF8DcWXBOfeEkf6onljDTvzYX4OyLnhArstqdgB0l4y6t1BoyhJYYncW3ZkTf-o1w5JEpuEKFzFnQrNitAaLt1dLEwA75Pk_rrLvkhppMTtIWFJHIoSF/s320/IMG_7454.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Migizi</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_U1VSu2gG9BJiPUotkjPhhpxw38MvVyzzwU73L5z4CnHHmSvRG_qD8cciZuG69tqjVE2aRTptJkz92j0XF-dOWIks8L2Z7PjjHksqZOTpzhJ79ZYyan-9w33X9KZ-MNeGPxq5y9QaDb9VDAW_MiU3B2hQra5Ju8ofmFGriqhGvRBg6T5McGZIT4mf7T9N/s4032/IMG_7532.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_U1VSu2gG9BJiPUotkjPhhpxw38MvVyzzwU73L5z4CnHHmSvRG_qD8cciZuG69tqjVE2aRTptJkz92j0XF-dOWIks8L2Z7PjjHksqZOTpzhJ79ZYyan-9w33X9KZ-MNeGPxq5y9QaDb9VDAW_MiU3B2hQra5Ju8ofmFGriqhGvRBg6T5McGZIT4mf7T9N/s320/IMG_7532.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ishkode</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p></span></div>Marilouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04754311331904306582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3428667705081488214.post-78020913156002775732023-10-01T06:37:00.002-05:002023-10-01T06:37:27.288-05:00Celebrating 35 years of Sobriety<p>Today I celebrate 35 years of sobriety. On October 1, 1988 I walked into an AA 12-step meeting after checking out of Barnes Hospital in St. Louis, Missouri. The same hospital my Papa had died on December 20, 1968 when I was 4 years old. 35 years ago I had reached a low in life that was unbearable ... on the outside everything was perfect. Yup, a functioning alcoholic and one who found other addictions like striving for perfection through work or sports to numb the pain that was buried deep in my heart and in the cells of my body. A survivor of sexual abuse when I was 9 years old and a secret I kept till I was almost 20 years old. I survived by numbing, by disassociating ... at the young age of 22 I felt like I could no longer breathe, I no longer wanted to live. I was in an emotionally </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkTU9psMt-ghwFl4C7SRwYqDZ68yzdEmElYBE8kGNyaLF688MXexn99ug7EK_DDqyodLc99jPaAvRRSByrbDZjVPRl8EuT-1zQ8VsDIRVCQRtTfT8sCwL-6MXBjW3Wr96pVd7M0kdRltE8_fm_KL3ZXHCTQxu1aRcrISgr_0_JsrNNe-0quawAl0BpFh9B/s604/ml_fallcolors3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="453" data-original-width="604" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkTU9psMt-ghwFl4C7SRwYqDZ68yzdEmElYBE8kGNyaLF688MXexn99ug7EK_DDqyodLc99jPaAvRRSByrbDZjVPRl8EuT-1zQ8VsDIRVCQRtTfT8sCwL-6MXBjW3Wr96pVd7M0kdRltE8_fm_KL3ZXHCTQxu1aRcrISgr_0_JsrNNe-0quawAl0BpFh9B/s320/ml_fallcolors3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>and physically abusive relationship and I did not know how to get out. The only way out I could see was to take my own life. Maybe then I would be with my Papa, I thought. In 2008 I wrote a piece called, The Rope. I share it here on my 35 year anniversary of choosing life. I share in hopes that if my story provides hope for one person that yes, we can move through the darkest moments, we can heal, and we can emerge even stronger .. then sharing my story has served her purpose. I share because keeping secrets nearly killed me. I share for the many who have suffered from sexual abuse, partner violence, mental health and thoughts and attempts of suicide ... At 22, I fell straight into the arms of my father who told me, it's not my time. It has been a long road of healing and recovery .... and my life today is brighter than it has ever been and surrounded by the most beautiful people. For over 30+ years I begin my day with meditation, quiet ... and until I tore my achilles I I would walk to the water and watch the sunrise with one of my pups (soon, though, I will be returning to my morning walks!). I began adding qigong about 7 years ago. I journal. I intersperse moments throughout the day to notice my body, the sensations in my body, where my breathing is coming from and noticing and appreciating the awe and miracles of life all around me ... from my pups to the cardinals that visit me every day .. to the squirrels, the trees, the water. <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu4dakYfWmBP0scddm3XyzbbNpPTOHZasVBH2WspukGXpuIglJ19FB6YVS3ts77fJ1NxpbLJV4HSxBKU_cfP9rKEUpwdildCdc_ahS-YFpS7FvZrGRIGH3DSqsrZQ8Og_3wfBJ8pSSCbKt1AY8fT_kHTkSz-RWcnAegHhD6JSwOveiMXKKjYQY4RlpV8LA/s320/mlwithpapa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="226" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu4dakYfWmBP0scddm3XyzbbNpPTOHZasVBH2WspukGXpuIglJ19FB6YVS3ts77fJ1NxpbLJV4HSxBKU_cfP9rKEUpwdildCdc_ahS-YFpS7FvZrGRIGH3DSqsrZQ8Og_3wfBJ8pSSCbKt1AY8fT_kHTkSz-RWcnAegHhD6JSwOveiMXKKjYQY4RlpV8LA/s1600/mlwithpapa.jpg" width="226" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>The Rope (written in 2008)</b></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>I</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>I remember the darkness and stillness of the room. I was sitting on the edge of the queen size bed, alone, in a Hampton Inn motel in Hazelwood, Missouri, a small suburb north of St. Louis, right off of highway 270, the outer belt of St. Louis. At 22, I had reached the end of the rope. The slow descent began at 4 with the death of my father, and the emotional evaporation of my mother, as her physical body remained on earth while her soul took flight the day my father died. The gradual descent dropped into a downward spiral the year we left Bangkok. It was 1979. I was 15. My father’s death at age 4 was the first ingredient poured into an old-fashioned pressure cooker, where emotions of grief and pain were sealed tight by my mother who had lost the love of her life, and her heart frozen in time. The years passed, and more ingredients were added to the pressure cooker: sexual abuse by a trusted family friend and Catholic deacon, alcohol, peer pressure, struggles with sexual identity, not fitting in – desperately wanting to fit in and to deny everything about my roots, my past, my culture; my language; sudden loss of my “second mother” to a drunk driver. Without a safety valve, an explosion was imminent. </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i><br /></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="white-space: normal;"><i><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I clasped a bottle of sleeping pills in one hand. In the other hand, a Bud light. I hear the water filling up the bathtub. I have reached the end of the rope. The palms of my hands, once blistered from hanging on, had callused. My exit plan – pop the sleeping pills, fall asleep, drown in the bath tub and never wake up. Let go of the rope. Finally, let go.</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i><br /></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="white-space: normal;"><i><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Images of my father flash before me. Images of him catching me. The four year old in me smiles, remembering moments in his arms. How fun it was to play with his glasses. How safe it felt in his arms. The 22 year old is tired. There’s no more fight left. The threads holding the rope are coming apart.</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i><br /></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="white-space: normal;"><i><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And so, that night, I execute on my plan – pop the pills, and fall asleep; my body submerged in the bathtub. Alone, in a hotel room with stale air. The lights go out. I am, finally, letting go.</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i><br /></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>II</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="white-space: normal;"><i><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>My eyes open. I awaken to the same hotel room. It’s the middle of the night now. My eyes fixate on the ceiling for a moment – a dirty white with specks of grey. Surreal, stale air inhabits the hotel room like cigarette smoke hovering around lost souls in a bar, in search of that “something”. There’s a heaviness in my heart. I remember falling asleep in the bathtub filled with warm water, inhaling toxic fumes of bleach combined with other chemical agents. Over the years, I have been asked, by the brave few wanting to make sense of how anyone could attempt to take their own life, “how could you?”, “what was going through your head?”</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i><br /></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="white-space: normal;"><i><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Nothing.” I respond to them, as sadness fills my heart remembering the young adult whose palms, scorched from blisters and tired from the fight, decided that letting go was the only exit. “Nothing,” I say, as I remember the protective layer that encased by battered heart. I just wanted the pain to end. I just wanted to rest. I just wanted to emerge from the darkness.</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i><br /></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="white-space: normal;"><i><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Somehow, someway my submerged body was air lifted out of the bathtub onto the queen size bed. Remnants of all I had ingested the past 24 hours had created a drunken pathway, from the bathtub to the bed. A deathly stench consumed the room. Somehow, someway, I took those steps – I don’t remember. I have imagined angels lifting me out of the water. I have imagined my father, gently carrying me to the bed, whispering to me “not yet baby [that’s what he used to call me], not yet.” As I realize I am alive and my plan has failed, the stale air is replaced with a stench of defiance.</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i><br /></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="white-space: normal;"><i><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I’m many years older now. What happened that night remains a mystery to me. The unfolding of the “why” has been my life’s journey. Mistakes and questions are regular guests in my home. Not knowing and uncertainty have burrowed in the foundations of my home. I am learning. I am unlearning. I am breaking down. I am breaking open. I am discovering. I am re-discovering. My life, who I am, my place in community, this planet, this universe. The more I learn about me, the more I learn there is no me, just we.</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i><br /></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>I am learning there are millions of threads, that make up strands, which in turn make a rope. I am learning that every thread connects me to something, someone, or some purpose; as we find common threads and re-build strands from worn out threads, we strengthen the rope of life. At 22, my tired, callused hands let go of the one remaining tattered strand, as I danced at the doorsteps of death, only to fall straight into a hammock, handcrafted from a mesh of rope. At 22, I fell straight into the arms of my father, and into the hammock of life. </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i><br /></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Today, I celebrate 35 years from the day I chose life. Granted, I needed a little nudge from Papa and from my first dog Splat, a puppy who came into my life at a time I needed the most. And then Papa continued to send me many angels in the bodies of 4 legged furry beings to help me heal. In 2008, he led me to Red Lake nation up in northern Minnesota and to by now spirit dog, Ahnung. And Papa and Ahnung continue to be my north stars in anything and everything I do in this lifetime ... they will call me to join then when it is my time. Until then, my hope is to sprinkle love and healing in this beautiful world .....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_gnxw6E9PuaQlIekxarioKJQtGQuMs4UkSBxpHu5Z_J_tMYA-e986j5-lFMtDovTisXf45foZ75WOXxLckIs5b25z0su-f5DS7kVxVsv3yibstSlpjIVs1hIlPZsCFoTj9M1qAheRfbhvpK2iw-gqKcEd3MXbBj3QjzUSZjztGPmESMqE-9D2XZRJw0OA/s2538/ahnungme_pg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2136" data-original-width="2538" height="269" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_gnxw6E9PuaQlIekxarioKJQtGQuMs4UkSBxpHu5Z_J_tMYA-e986j5-lFMtDovTisXf45foZ75WOXxLckIs5b25z0su-f5DS7kVxVsv3yibstSlpjIVs1hIlPZsCFoTj9M1qAheRfbhvpK2iw-gqKcEd3MXbBj3QjzUSZjztGPmESMqE-9D2XZRJw0OA/s320/ahnungme_pg.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div></div><i><br /><br /></i></div><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p>Marilouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04754311331904306582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3428667705081488214.post-67384135761342373312023-01-30T10:32:00.002-06:002023-01-30T10:52:15.104-06:00Listening to the wisdom of beings in all forms<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh19xdqKs1IsCCaE64q4RTxxWMertI5-bYiTk3YLGmjblJ6-dj12AA5swjx6_Iq3JBTwPg3uY3BoAonw2cdI_ffLdwATOdFvLYrBcGxu8YN7xyoFnm8ueGsPtu2RrZpbxV2FqZnUTNZYn0rAX-7tufccHSPF9R-wSPZ4MtlRaIrO9FQhZr5p3hcYECiWg/s4032/IMG-2659.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh19xdqKs1IsCCaE64q4RTxxWMertI5-bYiTk3YLGmjblJ6-dj12AA5swjx6_Iq3JBTwPg3uY3BoAonw2cdI_ffLdwATOdFvLYrBcGxu8YN7xyoFnm8ueGsPtu2RrZpbxV2FqZnUTNZYn0rAX-7tufccHSPF9R-wSPZ4MtlRaIrO9FQhZr5p3hcYECiWg/s320/IMG-2659.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Temps were below zero and wind chills approaching minus 30 so I opted not to take any of the pups with me for a walk this morning. I decided to go to Normandale Lake this morning ... for some reason ... I don't walk here too often but something called me there. As I turned right onto the road between the lake and the parking lot, on my left I saw what my first thought was a wolf. As I reflect back on the moment it wasn't even me seeing this beautiful being ... I FELT wolf energy. And I saw this large beautiful gray being walk across the frozen lake with head up high, confident and a stroll and a slow even pace that I can still feel in my body. I have often seen coyotes in the area .. they have a different energy and feel. Then that part of me kicked in that wanted to capture a photo or a video ... all the while this inner voice in me kept whispering to me to simply feel his presence. Feel his presence and soak in the magnificence of this amazing being walking across a frozen lake with a backdrop of the sun rising. I listened to that inner voice ... with no cars behind me I slowed down and just watched as he crossed the lake. And when I got back to my car after my walk, a red-tail hawk flew above me. I chose not to pull my phone out to capture a photo. I chose to simply BE in the presence and the energy.<p></p><p>This morning in my meditation practice my dream from last night came forward into my consciousness. I had a lucid dream of leaving a gathering and following someone into the open water. I jumped in with snorkels. The entry was in this large house that had beautiful beige steps that led to the water. In some ways it felt like a swimming pool. It also felt like open water. I jumped in to follow this human being (I don't know who he was ... just someone I trusted). It was night time. Once in the water I realized I was in the open water .. in the ocean ... off to my right we saw this massive whale and we began following her. I could keep up with her. I wasn't afraid. Then dolphins and sharks appeared and I was swimming with them. I found myself sinking and i had to paddle to stay not too far from the surface. At one point I remember thinking I better go up for air and yet and the same time I felt like I could hold my breath indefinitely. The paradox of holding both. There wasn't the either/or dichotomy ... it was holding both. I can still feel the water against my skin ... I can see these magnificent beings all around me ... I can feel the awe, the peace and also how small I was and how that didn't matter. And later in that dream I was in this school bus with one of my dogs. I don't know exactly which dog but she was younger black dog and this dog had the energy of Ahnung, Ishkode and Migizi all at the same time. And then in my dream we leave the school bus and there are 7-10 puppies we are supposed to lead somewhere ... this black dog .... 'my' dog leads them. They follow her. We cross streets. We cross and step into puddles of water. When she stops they all stop. We pass this one woman who has her own dog and she gets nervous as she holds her dog tight ... fearful that the puppies will antagonize her dog. The puppies ignore her and her dog and she looks at us with surprise. Ahnung/Ishkode/Migizi ... leading a pack of puppies. I wonder where am I being guided. Am I one with these combined being of Ahnung/Ishkode/Migizi? Am I to guide? to lead?</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlZ2BC1svdVFncnYuFgm5OHEt3gD-4twkbvV58maV_anF-B6qgyMg63Y3FIV12PiJNfOm2SBWMY3YEF_g-x5lIRGrvrDSQuvo5Y27tSx31N6lBYQM9Fx483uBhQx0Z9MYCRJMoiu5o4WfX627WBkKXLb3JhAD9WPuG5Uo3ju5TQ77Bj9eO61yQnUPcUQ/s4032/IMG-2663.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlZ2BC1svdVFncnYuFgm5OHEt3gD-4twkbvV58maV_anF-B6qgyMg63Y3FIV12PiJNfOm2SBWMY3YEF_g-x5lIRGrvrDSQuvo5Y27tSx31N6lBYQM9Fx483uBhQx0Z9MYCRJMoiu5o4WfX627WBkKXLb3JhAD9WPuG5Uo3ju5TQ77Bj9eO61yQnUPcUQ/s320/IMG-2663.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><p><br /></p>And yesterday on my drive to Woody's Pet Food Deli, along Normandale Blvd, something again had me look to the left. I have come to trust and listen to that voice inside me of that simply nudges me to turn my attention in a certain direction. Perched on a tree was a huge eagle. I have seen eagles fairly often perched way up high on trees along Normandale blvd ... but never so low and so close that I can feel their magnificent size and presence in my body. Honestly, if the speed limit wasn't 45 mph and I could easily have stopped I would have but the eagle energy had infused my being .. my cells. So much so that on my way home from Woody's I hoped to see the eagle again. I would be on the same side of the road this time. Unfortunately I did not see the eagle and yet I felt his energy so I turned around to head north again on Normandale. And yes, I saw him but he had moved and was perched much higher and at the top of a massive evergreen. There is a message there as well. I listened to the nudge and the whisper and I saw the eagle close up. When I returned and I could not see the eagle with my eyes, my gut told me otherwise. I listened. I turned around and there he was ... but much further up. There are many ways of knowing and of seeing. I must continue to trust this Way of knowing and being.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyzDQMRwBzIO6ME1bh32w3_uHhnrDFKsLCuPPUTuioyiNPm5d5G9qwOFjqkk1DK-L5vGhscoIkQd47XsNi80A' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />After seeing what appeared to be a wolf (although rationally I know it is unlikely ... others would probably say it was a large coyote ... maybe it was ... the energy was very much wolf energy. Maybe he was half coyote and half wolf) .... driving home from my morning walk my gut was saying animal spirit was trying to get my attention. What was Papa trying to tell me? What was Ahnung trying to tell me. I asked them if they would be willing to send the cardinals today ... and that way I would know for sure they were speaking to me. And shortly after I arrived home, a female cardinal showed up at the bird feeder (she hasn't been around for a while). I didn't have my phone to capture her ... shortly after the male cardinal appeared and he hung around a little longer for me to grab my phone and catch him on video. <div><br /></div><div>And last weekend as I was reflecting on how to hold and create space for a circle I am offering out into the universe I came upon two deer crossing the Minnesota River, not far from the bdote (where the Mississippi River and Minnesota River meet) ... I carried the worry of the lake not being frozen as there were pockets of open water not far from them .. would they cross safely? I worried and yet they did not seem worried. And yes, they crossed safely. Deer medicine. The lessons and miracles of water in all its various forms.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwP8zHAwC_IOjqnGQ9XGBG32uDfno96_CB2xst_E_ZSO-gQk0UDkMNga0ZwMrl--uDVrGTzoEKl-ASlTA_nxQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><div><br /><p></p><p>Every morning after meditation and qigong, I say out loud in six directions, "I am a commitment to listening to the wisdom of beings in all forms, for the sake of creating space for wholeness, healing and equity."</p><p>I am listening.</p><p>Eagle. Wolf. Coyote. Red-tailed hawk. Whale. Dolphin. Shark. Cardinal. Deer. Dog. Ahnung. Ishkode. Migizi.</p><p>The themes of water in all its various forms and states; being in a vehicle (in my conscious state and my dream state); the line between conscious and unconscious is like a thin veil ... I am grateful for all my teachers that guide me and show me a different Way (four-legged, feathered, marine, 2-legged and nature in all her magnificence).</p><p>I am listening. I am trusting. I am grateful.</p></div>Marilouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04754311331904306582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3428667705081488214.post-32114561687936857082023-01-17T08:00:00.007-06:002023-01-17T12:24:53.701-06:00When Grief comes to visit again<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLfNkiEtQO-W_MUWiOkHpF3v4naFu1JpsutcctV_QoYYs8SDR4LCTHrvKLoWknGWsKRSxjdseWtTNYHzaVukYUV-rHrSMnMD6M4XilmAax2-oweW9nUENoQcQSBQqkbFSvjPSEWTKyGxRKGtkgP9AhWraYdTXsfp8j4jfk0lGvSxszrsCYiJcwaMVDww/s4032/IMG-2503.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLfNkiEtQO-W_MUWiOkHpF3v4naFu1JpsutcctV_QoYYs8SDR4LCTHrvKLoWknGWsKRSxjdseWtTNYHzaVukYUV-rHrSMnMD6M4XilmAax2-oweW9nUENoQcQSBQqkbFSvjPSEWTKyGxRKGtkgP9AhWraYdTXsfp8j4jfk0lGvSxszrsCYiJcwaMVDww/s320/IMG-2503.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>I have been noticing over the past couple weeks how this feeling I can't describe comes over me .... it is different and yet familiar all at once. I walk every morning to the water; i meditate and practice qigong every morning; i offer gratitude at the water and during morning practices, for the gift of another day, another sunrise, another sunset and for all the beautiful beings in my life - 4-legged, 2-legged, feathered .....<p></p><p>I find myself being in the moment as I notice Migizi, Ishkode and Legacy ... how they are walking; how they are breathing; how their chest rises and falls with every breath, how their legs, lips or body twitches when they are dreaming; i notice their unique markings - Legacy's bushy tail and how he burrows his nose under his tail while snuggled on the couch; this one special patch on Migizi's body ... on her neck where her coat is a slightly lightly color compared to her velvet black color ... and how her fur moves in the opposite direction; the unique lightning patterned white patch on Ishkode's back by her shoulders. I want to memorize their every move and the feeling of their body against mine; of how they walk in the mornings; the way they run in the snow in the backyard; how the sun lands on their body when we are out walking in the woods. I want to memorize everything about them. I am in the present moment in fullness with them and then in the next fleeting second I have this feeling come over ... a cloud carrying the words "some day I will no longer have them with me in physical form. They will be a memory, like Ahnung, Mister, Missy, Splat, Shen, Shadow."</p><p>And Grief makes her presence known. A return visitor.</p><p>Grief: I am here.</p><p>Why are you here?</p><p>Grief: I am never far. I am always watching over you.</p><p>I ask her but why now. Why knock on my door again? None of the pups are sick.</p><p>I invite her into my home. I offer her a seat by the fire. And together we share a cup of loose leaf jasmine tea. I remember her previous visits. I remember the pain in my cells ... how I felt the air in my lungs had been sucked out; how I couldn't breathe; how my heart felt a heaviness so deep; how the earth under my feet trembled and shook and I felt I would be swallowed; how I wanted to run from this pain.</p><p>Grief: Breathe.</p><p>I don't know why Grief is here to visit. I know I must invite her in. Part of me wants to slam the door in her face. I pause and resist that temptation. She doesn't stay long. She pops in, and then she leaves. </p><p>I realize when she visits she comes with the gift of Ahnung ... and of all those who have moved on to the spirit world. I hear Ahnung telling me not to fear Grief. She is a friend. She is a friend as much as Love and Joy and Happiness. She is not the price of loving deeply. She is Love in the purest form. She is unbounded Love. She is Love in all her fullness. Make friends with Grief when the earth isn't trembling below your feet. Keep loving deeply. Keep loving fully. She comes with the gift of those who have moved to a form and a way of being where they are always with you.</p><p>And so I listen to my beloved Ahnung, my north star ... I welcome Grief and I trust her visiting me now is a Gift, and as she pops in and out of our home we will get to know each other and we will deepen our relationship.</p><p><br /></p><p>I practice letting go ... when holding on is in my bones.</p><p>I practice loving ... when the little girl in me screams, protect your heart!</p><p>I practice staying ... when running is what I did in order to survive.</p><p><br /></p><p>With Ahnung in every cell of my body, I practice living in love, in fullness, and in uncertainty.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-cTj2MWPqaWYY2fa6MUPsxPvuG9r3oj85HDGTuJHu6ZlRw357X3XVTFl6BvF1g2BJtbxx9WI4ObvPX30XzjMS902uwbkMLZSz40-rb05-D6JhCCGzMh4XFLvI_zOhXDQ_RpDPjv8n6gu36V_bbF51gMG8x5AE9VT5YL0zYyLvYE1EQpb8CjrQI96pOA/s1500/ahnungandme_pg.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-cTj2MWPqaWYY2fa6MUPsxPvuG9r3oj85HDGTuJHu6ZlRw357X3XVTFl6BvF1g2BJtbxx9WI4ObvPX30XzjMS902uwbkMLZSz40-rb05-D6JhCCGzMh4XFLvI_zOhXDQ_RpDPjv8n6gu36V_bbF51gMG8x5AE9VT5YL0zYyLvYE1EQpb8CjrQI96pOA/s320/ahnungandme_pg.jpg" width="256" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">with Ahnung</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLCPA5g6HHQ7u0O8NbGzACbReW23wHUolTZJjNqwQgBTPS5bfDM4mxxmLnASLojmGmiyyHNUxkW5dGVSC32s_jj4c8QEVLS6kY94wyMAh5mN8ynHhz6rHIXty7G8BSn-Gpj-iZXo5KQ4278WSpjicCjF4VqfSxC0tKrIAPexoNtV6jwIvlhj5asu3PNQ/s1500/Missykissingme_PG.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1205" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLCPA5g6HHQ7u0O8NbGzACbReW23wHUolTZJjNqwQgBTPS5bfDM4mxxmLnASLojmGmiyyHNUxkW5dGVSC32s_jj4c8QEVLS6kY94wyMAh5mN8ynHhz6rHIXty7G8BSn-Gpj-iZXo5KQ4278WSpjicCjF4VqfSxC0tKrIAPexoNtV6jwIvlhj5asu3PNQ/s320/Missykissingme_PG.jpg" width="257" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">with Missy</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYegSy4CUjQXm-cySyIgOnb7At8oxJM3VrJaz4OLGX9t-S4shoEMDui7zbiLoN1A8VSXy6YBiG78SeyPCnDS5tZP4abrgN_GIdRK9P4EpX4VMYalwt5keP-BpFSNXVVEvJ3jUAb0m6RdUtM4MV5IxuCNWbdDrmKf8DDdYRMVKHOcey5o-VdadDbjTUlQ/s500/Furballs_mistertired_2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="364" data-original-width="500" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYegSy4CUjQXm-cySyIgOnb7At8oxJM3VrJaz4OLGX9t-S4shoEMDui7zbiLoN1A8VSXy6YBiG78SeyPCnDS5tZP4abrgN_GIdRK9P4EpX4VMYalwt5keP-BpFSNXVVEvJ3jUAb0m6RdUtM4MV5IxuCNWbdDrmKf8DDdYRMVKHOcey5o-VdadDbjTUlQ/s320/Furballs_mistertired_2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">with Mister</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Marilouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04754311331904306582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3428667705081488214.post-26363165856377344572022-06-26T10:15:00.004-05:002022-06-26T10:17:22.609-05:00Lessons from a cardinal family<p><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px;">For the second time this year I have been blessed to have a cardinal mama choose to nest once again in the nest she built last summer … in a tree right outside my kitchen window. For whatever reason I have watched this miracle from a distance … appreciating and admiring but somehow not getting so pulled in. This second go around this year, it was very different. A week ago today on Father’s Day I saw the baby mouths wide open as mama cardinal fed them. She had been sitting on the eggs for almost 2 weeks … diligently watching over her eggs and keeping them warm. A week ago today, I also had a lot of emotions emerge in me as I opened up Papa’s briefcase that had been sitting in the corner of one of my closets for I don’t even know how many years. I am not sure what made me decide to go through his brief case this year. Needless to say, a lot emerged especially around my mother, Mama. I got a deeper glimpse into what mattered to her; how much I mattered to her and also despite all the challenges we had and the conflict (both of us struggling silently in our own pain and grief) that she loved me so deeply. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>And so I have been watching Mama cardinal caring for her babies so fiercely and through her actions I found I felt the energy and presence of both Mama and Papa and my younger self in the journey of this cardinal family … gifted with the opportunity to witness close up the unfolding of the first 7 days of the 2 baby cardinals. And then last Tuesday we experienced extreme heat in Minnesota and there was a period where I was not sure if the baby cardinals were going to make it, and I experienced a tender and conflicted cross road in my mind and my heart … to intervene or to not intervene. Mama and Papa were still periodically returning so I chose to trust they knew best and did what I could to support Mama and Papa with supplying fresh water nearby, and strategically placing hand towels in the tree to block the sun that was pounding down on the baby cardinals. For the past week I have been so emotionally invested in this beautiful family and watching closeup their actions … and the feathers of these babies beginning to fill up …. </span></span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Yesterday was day 7. When I woke up yesterday morning one of the fledglings had already left the nest. Only one was left. I witnessed up close as he was nudged and encouraged by Papa and Mama to begin flying … flapping his tiny wings and moving up branches in the tree. When he got tired and stopped Papa flew up to him as to encourage him, and then he flew off as if to show, this is how you do it ….. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">The nest is now empty and yesterday afternoon and evening I felt an emptiness … sadness and grief as I have had their presence for a week and have been so emotionally invested in them. I also felt joy that they survived and they are now venturing off into the world, being taught by their Papa and Mama to fly, and soon will be able to forage and feed themselves. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">The witnessing of this cardinal family has reached me in a deep way for some reason …. There are ties to emotions around my Papa and Mama … grief … survival …. And what cardinals have symbolized for me as a male cardinal appeared to me after Ahnung’s passing on August 25, 2013. Cardinals have continued to visit after Ahnung’s passing … I see them when I am journaling in my writing room that looks out to the backyard. Most of the times I have either a male cardinal visiting or a female cardinal .. sometimes they appear as a pair. There has been a male cardinal that visits very often and often perches on the wooden fence outside the window of my writing room. He just sits there and we look at each other. I feel Ahnung and my Papa’s energy so strongly in those moments. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">This morning I saw Papa and Mama flying in and out of a mulberry tree at the far end of my yard. I am grateful to know they have found refuge in the tree not too far from my home … I can’t see them up close anymore but simply knowing they are there .. that the fledglings are learning to fly in a tree that is also nourishing them from the fruit their parents bring to them … that they will soon to be taking longer flights and foraging for themselves. Today, I am grateful to feel their energy, their curiosity, their playfulness ….</span></span></p><div><br /></div><span id="docs-internal-guid-f113500a-7fff-2c3c-afea-a42d2c6fbc51"><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1WEWpA5mbeakS3gdRBIR1ghS_9k1O1MizNuLFLYE3vG17O7xRuEAwSWZDU2vq13FtMKLfPpvUJ3YoRj-juKAEeJLKXtHgxcBUhvEvOkYi3NP48wl2jy3pPsRnHZas2MlHeq5DxTjy68BxvhAE0BiJ9yxu2w0adPvgmoeBK4upArNXOsGbqfR-W4MAzQ/s1080/Baby%20Cardinals.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1WEWpA5mbeakS3gdRBIR1ghS_9k1O1MizNuLFLYE3vG17O7xRuEAwSWZDU2vq13FtMKLfPpvUJ3YoRj-juKAEeJLKXtHgxcBUhvEvOkYi3NP48wl2jy3pPsRnHZas2MlHeq5DxTjy68BxvhAE0BiJ9yxu2w0adPvgmoeBK4upArNXOsGbqfR-W4MAzQ/s320/Baby%20Cardinals.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCpiBL2yEacGFwYxvTb_HFDuoBRmt9hc0Z0cfRHQY4W8ocFH3ZcfK1dCMfz0VCg_W0ixJdJgsgR5jGO0w_hX5LGkG-TujRbvpEbz1tLRWjRXtKhokVKUckyJKp9BwHFyo3aGoxVhjM4FTHGMpvNiXif4jwT6lWUMSftF9NVE5mNyHNKBPRzAi58L7Xmg/s3377/DSC_1288.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3377" data-original-width="2715" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCpiBL2yEacGFwYxvTb_HFDuoBRmt9hc0Z0cfRHQY4W8ocFH3ZcfK1dCMfz0VCg_W0ixJdJgsgR5jGO0w_hX5LGkG-TujRbvpEbz1tLRWjRXtKhokVKUckyJKp9BwHFyo3aGoxVhjM4FTHGMpvNiXif4jwT6lWUMSftF9NVE5mNyHNKBPRzAi58L7Xmg/s320/DSC_1288.jpg" width="257" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-iuQozMfMCN-AhKa94LYgLpNsrmWU_SeE85RTk57UhIP0GVdPp6Xj0srmbmRSdBbqY2UwEDccpAiCk6VGGdx8VkvWIiMGDvtCrGsWRNZ1Ij0ZkpfQLqwycbimCzKVzy-v1f0wl6NFdeqBzgEIdgfi-15_CYht4xsRXwLHgipKHyFKSfhAdq1K_Y9lzA/s2938/mama%20and%20papa.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1038" data-original-width="2938" height="113" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-iuQozMfMCN-AhKa94LYgLpNsrmWU_SeE85RTk57UhIP0GVdPp6Xj0srmbmRSdBbqY2UwEDccpAiCk6VGGdx8VkvWIiMGDvtCrGsWRNZ1Ij0ZkpfQLqwycbimCzKVzy-v1f0wl6NFdeqBzgEIdgfi-15_CYht4xsRXwLHgipKHyFKSfhAdq1K_Y9lzA/s320/mama%20and%20papa.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi744uv2oS9luzTbKyYYqO7apsQPHiJZbWGH6T7SE_JG4JabnM5TbeU2dcPOBcOmkQfoTc4p0_NvwjcfeCQTc6jzlJEzQk2xTBrvhD0FWu8c-ge74DtTaw_YFqvYL-mZB8kIR_HPsQfx_Pjfu1c6dkZow5V5Dc0NR3wYKoiycu3Xn6y_y_BjUFc5SUnYA/s4032/day%206%20evening.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi744uv2oS9luzTbKyYYqO7apsQPHiJZbWGH6T7SE_JG4JabnM5TbeU2dcPOBcOmkQfoTc4p0_NvwjcfeCQTc6jzlJEzQk2xTBrvhD0FWu8c-ge74DtTaw_YFqvYL-mZB8kIR_HPsQfx_Pjfu1c6dkZow5V5Dc0NR3wYKoiycu3Xn6y_y_BjUFc5SUnYA/s320/day%206%20evening.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div></span>Marilouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04754311331904306582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3428667705081488214.post-26463538145074051932022-06-19T11:11:00.003-05:002022-06-19T11:11:43.099-05:00Papa has been teaching me every since he left this world<p> As a 4 year old witnessing the death of her Papa ... December 20, 1968 at Barnes Hospital in St. Louis as the rush of doctors and machines came flying into Papa's room ... Mama's hysterical screams ... Little Drummer Boy playing over the hospital intercom ... a kind nurse grabbing my hand and guiding me out of the room. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQUP3Ob6LnK5hdWX2e4WZ3nUEJj0cvOYwNwi3W3ozAOHWC0Xvzm5Fy0YAbBsuAuaj4h7Hq451ZM3RqvgSXJbYBWfDqz-w_2GWmCmH0EMR5XFdZrQ1yqslRbkqH_G7dnElKpcxj_0D_zmWR1WsQxTJblUji_DTRrIiD3hXvrsST2_tha3RwHH0Bf1YUaQ/s320/mlwithpapa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="226" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQUP3Ob6LnK5hdWX2e4WZ3nUEJj0cvOYwNwi3W3ozAOHWC0Xvzm5Fy0YAbBsuAuaj4h7Hq451ZM3RqvgSXJbYBWfDqz-w_2GWmCmH0EMR5XFdZrQ1yqslRbkqH_G7dnElKpcxj_0D_zmWR1WsQxTJblUji_DTRrIiD3hXvrsST2_tha3RwHH0Bf1YUaQ/s1600/mlwithpapa.jpg" width="226" /></a></div><br />The 4 year old didn't understand what was going on. That day when he left he created a hole so deep in my mother that also reached deep into my being. Decades later and not long before Mama was reunited with the love of her life, she said to me, "I am ready to go be with your Papa". Pain has ways of manifesting in us in many ways. And in an effort to survive we find ways to cope by numbing the pain. One way for me was with competitive sports (and that was deemed socially acceptable) ... and then when my life was uprooted and I no longer had the crutch of competitive sports to distract and numb the pain that was below the surface I reached for alcohol ... meanwhile, all this while now, I know Papa was with me, trying to reach me. The little girl looked for love anywhere she could find it. And she found it in a trusted family friend. It has been a lifelong journey for me of healing and learning to forgive that little girl, and even my abuser ... of learning secrets will destroy me; not everyone will hurt me; that yes, it is okay to trust, and to love again.<p></p><p>Today, on Father's Day I took my morning walk with Legacy. My morning reflections centered around Papa. I realize Papa has been with me since the day he left this world. Do I wish I could have had him with me in this life time, guiding me, teaching me, protecting me, holding me, carrying me ... absolutely ... yet I now know and appreciate he has taught me the art of listening in such a deep way, first to myself, and to realize the veil between this world and other worlds is very thin and that we do not exist in just one form ... his energy and his spirit is with me and he has sent me guides and angels .... almost 34 years ago, I attempted to take my own life - it was a planned attempt that doctors told me I am "lucky" to have survived. I can't explain and I can't remember in my conscious mind, how I got out of the water. Who lifted me out of the water? Some say it was my sub-conscious will to live. I know in my heart, it was Papa. I have this vivid memory and image of one of the darkest moments in my life where I didn't see any other way to escape the pain other than to take my own life, so do I understand what a pain so deep feels like when I hear of teenagers attempting and committing suicide? Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, I do. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjQwaG7EnpwQXLV34jXzBaF7nduxCgaAhzXdY_aJnsKYTptJroGCiAK-cmYoQ-N4RR73oNGEYpwrcYkcqbRKK_hSacojo64ptuMPWaQLzWqc4BnreceAv3XMkuXkAPV7s3wt7I323EkjHNZMDGBVAF-65zwURa1d4EJhMDU4eBzGW3ofDkTmyIzytvZA/s4032/IMG-8618.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjQwaG7EnpwQXLV34jXzBaF7nduxCgaAhzXdY_aJnsKYTptJroGCiAK-cmYoQ-N4RR73oNGEYpwrcYkcqbRKK_hSacojo64ptuMPWaQLzWqc4BnreceAv3XMkuXkAPV7s3wt7I323EkjHNZMDGBVAF-65zwURa1d4EJhMDU4eBzGW3ofDkTmyIzytvZA/s320/IMG-8618.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />I listened to the On Being episode where Krista Tippett replays a conversation with writer and poet, Ocean Vuong and at the end of the episode she shares an essay Ocean wrote, "the weight of our living: our hope, fire escapes and visible desperation" - a piece he wrote shortly after his uncle, just 3 years older than himself, committed suicide ... a piece that came about as he walking New York City and noticing the fire escapes .... "all that richness and drama sealed away in a fortress whose walls echoed with communication of elemental and exquisite language ... and yet only the fire escape, a clinging extremity, inanimate and often rusting, spoke - in its hardened exiled silence with the most visible human honesty: we are capable of disaster. And we are scared" And Ocean goes on talk about how many aren't able to communicate we are hurt. I think about the time I was hurting so deeply. I tried to communicate ... but not in direct and explicit words as I didn't have the words ... and so I ask, what if we all learned to listen more deeply to the many ways others communicate a desperate pain, and what if we were then able to extend our hand, knowing that the apartment is in flames on the inside and invite the person to simply step outside into the fire escape and to offer them refuge until the raging fires passes?<p></p><p>This morning, I find myself reflecting on the gift Papa gave me ... a deep connection to spirit and learning to listen to beings in all forms and from all dimensions ... he has picked me up and carried me to safety; he has brought my first dog Splat to me which is what I needed to get myself sober; he led me to Red Lake nation and to Ahnung to continue the work of healing around the sexual abuse and to release myself from a secret I had kept for decades ... and to all the work I have been doing with animals and people in indigenous communities ...</p><p>And these past few days he sends clear messages to me of his presence through a magical encounter Ishka and I had with a doe who followed us along our morning hike ... gazing very intently into our eyes and as much as I would say to the doe, go back into the woods, she followed us and came all the way up to us and even brushed up against Ishka in playful, 'come on. chase me'! And this morning the 2nd cardinals nest I have been watching outside my kitchen window .... the baby cardinals hatched this morning and papa cardinal has been around a lot feeding the hatchlings. Shortly after Ahnung transitioned a male cardinal appeared outside my writing room and stayed for quite some time. I could feel Ahnung. Cardinals have since been my connection to Ahnung .... and Ahnung is my connection to Papa. So today, full circle .... clear messages Papa is with me and so are all the beings he has sent my way to watch over me. I am writing in my room that looks out to the back yard I hadn't changed the months for my Ricardo Levin Morales calendar since March ... not sure why ... this morning decided to change the month to June and the art on the calendar for June is a piece title 'Our Calling -A joyous, fabulous figure resembling a tree with deep roots throws their arms into the sky. Leaves fly all around in the form of doves and glittery stars.' Seeing the art, I once again felt Ahnung and Papa's energy.</p><p>Papa ... thank you for teaching me to speak your language; for giving me the gift of learning to listen to the wisdom of beings in all forms, and from all dimensions and times; for sending me the most amazing and beautiful guides and teachers and beings ... for showing me the beauty of shadows and light and how to embrace both fully </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRZr0lL4E_EZg2SqAP52AsQsr-DBevmh8M87U2yGPV8O3AzWwxRwGoz9PdHUGoshT4XLaIgIhSAP_VheUnFWyuaYTwIThvkxuUV8t-a3wRWIfXN_ilErur-XyPbhnjECNnVaApIskPoIZ5-lhbfBantCABsH-JeFHFt7d78e8qzGanx0tPGkv3k-zSCg/s4032/IMG-8501.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRZr0lL4E_EZg2SqAP52AsQsr-DBevmh8M87U2yGPV8O3AzWwxRwGoz9PdHUGoshT4XLaIgIhSAP_VheUnFWyuaYTwIThvkxuUV8t-a3wRWIfXN_ilErur-XyPbhnjECNnVaApIskPoIZ5-lhbfBantCABsH-JeFHFt7d78e8qzGanx0tPGkv3k-zSCg/s320/IMG-8501.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_YH8zmTtZs2JtSyPfZbAYVtDTENuLwOhS00sAazyE2bM027vQJWO8srs6tJMNuZPQ3DeN8It0d6HZoheSX3QUdCRFUC3V1sS0NXYH2NXeFi3rBhflNA3y1JNJnvQOpYAE_e-j2IVR6VlY7syOTAIUV4BtE88TIheLk6CeOZPEZKlYP5kBFiBlqllGaA/s4032/IMG-8521.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_YH8zmTtZs2JtSyPfZbAYVtDTENuLwOhS00sAazyE2bM027vQJWO8srs6tJMNuZPQ3DeN8It0d6HZoheSX3QUdCRFUC3V1sS0NXYH2NXeFi3rBhflNA3y1JNJnvQOpYAE_e-j2IVR6VlY7syOTAIUV4BtE88TIheLk6CeOZPEZKlYP5kBFiBlqllGaA/s320/IMG-8521.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihM-bl4CDhITvUVxEtjmcOCnPnAVzEfKXpwqd9esSx3IIQIantG1sR8Da6_oatV0Muq9eEciIzsCMprsU9cw5ecwKxLT5xpfDHuFj4anILzK-1bLIiXYDCAt_T80bNxFBz7eyWyjZrRd6HOIe2MSvSJajvkPbbbI4Bu0qFl1TCVXZdDdTPh2VIiZsR7A/s4032/IMG-8612.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihM-bl4CDhITvUVxEtjmcOCnPnAVzEfKXpwqd9esSx3IIQIantG1sR8Da6_oatV0Muq9eEciIzsCMprsU9cw5ecwKxLT5xpfDHuFj4anILzK-1bLIiXYDCAt_T80bNxFBz7eyWyjZrRd6HOIe2MSvSJajvkPbbbI4Bu0qFl1TCVXZdDdTPh2VIiZsR7A/s320/IMG-8612.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjY-w5SAVmFDiGfz39BJWBh8pnZoqjDR4VeQNZhMETST65FS7VqfOZdMYTIjEYOHN5Mr2d7r735nHQ2B16zmxlRibzCH6UGPxOP7Ej2LdDLTrFzgO-gqUnum3XDnRoyYhXy6LwFw73Ud2YEpyWrfCqpUz3YT_S52NEsY_OOv2HaI31kWxCR4zYs8k5nA/s4032/IMG_7782.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjY-w5SAVmFDiGfz39BJWBh8pnZoqjDR4VeQNZhMETST65FS7VqfOZdMYTIjEYOHN5Mr2d7r735nHQ2B16zmxlRibzCH6UGPxOP7Ej2LdDLTrFzgO-gqUnum3XDnRoyYhXy6LwFw73Ud2YEpyWrfCqpUz3YT_S52NEsY_OOv2HaI31kWxCR4zYs8k5nA/s320/IMG_7782.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCug0r7fjHAsn2F6u2WXudxw7HFupZbWF657yu6vKfX-GFjdCFRJ5yajL_YVVlUMKFYQoY0yg2UDmjVm7JyRCOaEX_mSIzXFAbuODdhkTqUEMoeRj6_QfEfw4NLR_Kgd-Do8aGR9q7zWpnwsDKPQd9kOhNBNfJI43uzuAtHevBsiUh8-9MLZa28qt-AQ/s3422/IMG-8638.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="3422" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCug0r7fjHAsn2F6u2WXudxw7HFupZbWF657yu6vKfX-GFjdCFRJ5yajL_YVVlUMKFYQoY0yg2UDmjVm7JyRCOaEX_mSIzXFAbuODdhkTqUEMoeRj6_QfEfw4NLR_Kgd-Do8aGR9q7zWpnwsDKPQd9kOhNBNfJI43uzuAtHevBsiUh8-9MLZa28qt-AQ/s320/IMG-8638.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p>Marilouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04754311331904306582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3428667705081488214.post-63362010572421613572021-07-11T19:46:00.000-05:002021-07-11T19:46:02.678-05:00Sacred Mornings and ramblings <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I have been morning hikes are as essential to me as air ... they ground me, they invite me to explore, get curious, listen, notice, Be ... i soak in the sunrise into my body and I breathe in the universal energy and life force. The past few mornings I have been noticing the shadows and I have been reflecting on shadows and light.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Light rays travel in a straight line at nearly 300,000 kilometers per second, and sunlight travels toward the earth in just over 8 minutes. It boggles my mind when I think about how massive our universe is ... beyond my comprehension ... the closest the earth gets to the sun is 91 million miles. It amazes me that light only takes a little over 8 minutes to travel around 91 million miles to reach earth. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The magnificence of our universe. I am in awe simply thinking about our earth ... so many places in this world I have not been .. then there are mountains, canyons, oceans ... and all the places we have not even seen. A large part of me hopes that humankind doesn't find ways to reach places in our world and in our universe so they are left untouched. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And in the mornings as I see my shadow, or my pups Migizi's shadow as the sun is rising I have been reflecting on shadows. We see shadows when light can't get through opaque objects. Shadows only happen when there is a light source. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Shadows are the both the absence and presence of light. For every shadow or darkness in my life I remind myself that there is a light source. In order for me to embrace the light source I must also embrace the shadows. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE59DJV0GC__K8B-zWSkyhH710EDVuNZb9QuvvJ3hJ547xMvcLj1oigVh8Nzl0TeJkVxBXjtPm6MWc7ICyT_dh2s0WpekzGTB4kw-xCZ1r8hbrPDJyUzArRaWxU3wKlFLJRYRuIwaY7ibr/s3549/IMG_3596.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="3549" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE59DJV0GC__K8B-zWSkyhH710EDVuNZb9QuvvJ3hJ547xMvcLj1oigVh8Nzl0TeJkVxBXjtPm6MWc7ICyT_dh2s0WpekzGTB4kw-xCZ1r8hbrPDJyUzArRaWxU3wKlFLJRYRuIwaY7ibr/s320/IMG_3596.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbAI1pqY6zsd1L0cfnonq4EO-ohhBwlGN0AzRAKZBF2uY4hehcWc9A9gvVcNDkfHxM2EDZidP-F9GEkpdA9MQPa56IH4HcNMaN2EJwTVidZdN-ogRuU4Pf132Xyi5TDVJOT9iaYAaE0G7-/s4032/IMG_3582.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbAI1pqY6zsd1L0cfnonq4EO-ohhBwlGN0AzRAKZBF2uY4hehcWc9A9gvVcNDkfHxM2EDZidP-F9GEkpdA9MQPa56IH4HcNMaN2EJwTVidZdN-ogRuU4Pf132Xyi5TDVJOT9iaYAaE0G7-/s320/IMG_3582.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJuCVx1vAkfekvU5dcSQCrbwpoHYcaSX18WIHWwGRLdCB5Djk1jt_FSLcAkEpLO9QsIePf4YlYA0u1c3TSqfYKRuTPyDy8qYcqWXBT8Q03pWFPv91_UA7K-V5D78UtcJFaYnNJY9bsv-3u/s4032/IMG_3628.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJuCVx1vAkfekvU5dcSQCrbwpoHYcaSX18WIHWwGRLdCB5Djk1jt_FSLcAkEpLO9QsIePf4YlYA0u1c3TSqfYKRuTPyDy8qYcqWXBT8Q03pWFPv91_UA7K-V5D78UtcJFaYnNJY9bsv-3u/s320/IMG_3628.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlGrlgG4b9MAqtj3xBCf4xjrR_mh813ZrCb6qQBMf09I37TeAcpsPnl5rtlV9FGlBtJ19Ba6rNfpx2BWQ3BF84JCE67BvbtQd4dQF0esiX_2EfApk4dDeUOLPd9phhe4CkhUeNooYlMR-m/s2095/IMG_3704.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2015" data-original-width="2095" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlGrlgG4b9MAqtj3xBCf4xjrR_mh813ZrCb6qQBMf09I37TeAcpsPnl5rtlV9FGlBtJ19Ba6rNfpx2BWQ3BF84JCE67BvbtQd4dQF0esiX_2EfApk4dDeUOLPd9phhe4CkhUeNooYlMR-m/s320/IMG_3704.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAfJs7hfF1rtR1Gxa-_odynstRaRyXRn8FzgfB3Y6jG8KsxTbBviEP9d-IlsPHbkW_DUi4AuOeqzj4utc_fsqVNzP_ZQzV-XYgCcF7yVMsCZEMoHnBJcnHGk70zQEnqwYdCdt4LKNwHebc/s4032/IMG_3729.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAfJs7hfF1rtR1Gxa-_odynstRaRyXRn8FzgfB3Y6jG8KsxTbBviEP9d-IlsPHbkW_DUi4AuOeqzj4utc_fsqVNzP_ZQzV-XYgCcF7yVMsCZEMoHnBJcnHGk70zQEnqwYdCdt4LKNwHebc/s320/IMG_3729.HEIC" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsCfKDOhDURhL8QXokmOYGGGAkY1M8-eZdf7iOy9yeDaW0Sc8WVB72CTWYTlGY6NelYvCWenQN8fm3M8R0_l4Ai8q8LubgnytJRpm6Gx3bZtmq9nUzkK_evuTe3bQoG6QLBIsq1c_VD8IM/s3731/IMG_3793.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="3731" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsCfKDOhDURhL8QXokmOYGGGAkY1M8-eZdf7iOy9yeDaW0Sc8WVB72CTWYTlGY6NelYvCWenQN8fm3M8R0_l4Ai8q8LubgnytJRpm6Gx3bZtmq9nUzkK_evuTe3bQoG6QLBIsq1c_VD8IM/s320/IMG_3793.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Marilouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04754311331904306582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3428667705081488214.post-12811450829777359682021-07-04T11:13:00.006-05:002021-07-04T12:38:22.458-05:00Feeling the presence and spirit of Mama<p> I have been feeling the spirit and the presence of my mother (Mama) a lot lately. About a month ago I began experiencing severe symptoms of neuropathy in my left arm/hand. An event (a interaction with a dear friend of mine) triggered an intense emotional response and my body began experiencing a pain so intense I was unable to sleep. My forearm and hands felt like they were on fire. My hand and fingers were tingly and pretty numb; there was a shooting pain like a lighting volt that would shoot through my arm. Nothing I did; no adjustment of position; no movement or walking; no stillness ... nothing eased the pain and all I could do was take deep breaths and pray. As a recovering alcoholic I have no pain meds of any kind in my home. I have believed when my body is in pain she is trying to tell me something; to communicate with me, and by taking drugs or pain killers I am shutting down what my body is trying to tell me. But that night, and the next few nights, I was in so much pain I found myself saying what I remember Mama saying when the drugs (gabapentin) she was on did not ease the</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQZ8_olSoKNi2tM9u9u-ZaCUR9sXbd9VhkxEkXRh9HL-vnpCglR-pGRB8IyQTNzo91tYkXNCduLqCN5MNU175ttLKsmcnS11JtBgiSsHB6GT8Pj_UuuDTv82OGQZ4OK8uih78vsr63h9HU/s1212/Mama.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="902" data-original-width="1212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQZ8_olSoKNi2tM9u9u-ZaCUR9sXbd9VhkxEkXRh9HL-vnpCglR-pGRB8IyQTNzo91tYkXNCduLqCN5MNU175ttLKsmcnS11JtBgiSsHB6GT8Pj_UuuDTv82OGQZ4OK8uih78vsr63h9HU/s320/Mama.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> numbness, tingling and pain. She would say, why don't they just chop my arms and legs off! I used to think she was being a little dramatic and I realized I never truly understood the pain she was experiencing. That first night I found myself saying and wishing to just have my left arm chopped off to stop the pain. I took some over the counter pain meds and instead of it easing any pain it made my stomach also feel like it was on fire. I began researching and exploring options .. yup, Dr. Google. I had experienced the years ...decades ... of Mama experiencing the pain of neuropathy and seeing so many doctors, being prescribed meds and being told there was really nothing they could do ... i witnessed quite frankly how western medicine and doctors did not see my mother as whole person and wanted to just treat the symptoms. I also understand how when there is such intense pain you want the pain to just stop, or even ease. I have also come to learn and to believe in the amazing healing power and wisdom of our own bodies. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLR9MzwXJPno3KmQbVLHx4A828nxOnnGwAnC_K3Gipm9gks5MbK2-EdewJ0ytXl2h1ZyQMqK8Yt-2b-A4lF8UwnAOKM4JkphBTWY2kVV-cQrzJPXDvmuF9lUdIeLPS3TvRFl4zXdsfOZJN/s720/Marilou+and+Mama+Apr2010.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLR9MzwXJPno3KmQbVLHx4A828nxOnnGwAnC_K3Gipm9gks5MbK2-EdewJ0ytXl2h1ZyQMqK8Yt-2b-A4lF8UwnAOKM4JkphBTWY2kVV-cQrzJPXDvmuF9lUdIeLPS3TvRFl4zXdsfOZJN/s320/Marilou+and+Mama+Apr2010.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>So the first few days of intense pain was an LOUD sign to me that something was way off balance. I had slipped in my nutrition and eating chocolate, lots of carbs, gluten .. even processed foods. I knew this already, however. reading again the importance of nutrition in the healing of our bodies and lowering inflammation so I made a decision to remove the following from my diet: processed sugar, gluten, chocolate, dairy .... i used to treat myself to a matcha green tea coconut milk latte every morning and as delicious as it was I knew I had to give it up; i also gave up chocolate. I only drink water now (green or jasmine tea in the morning, plain), eat only fresh foods (lots of spinach, broccoli, shitake mushrooms, ginger, garlic, cumin, turmeric, salmon, chicken). I started taking a supplement i learned about called Nerve Renew about 3 weeks ago and 2 weeks ago began adding to my daily practices qigong with a renewed commitment and determination and belief in the ability of my body to heal itself and that healing of my being is made up of my body, my heart, my spirit/soul, and my mind. And all are connected. This Friday i see an acupuncturist to add to my surrounding support of holistic care and my commitment to well-being of mind, body, spirit, heart and community with intentionality.<p></p><p><br /></p><p></p><p>The pain has reduced significantly. I still feel tingly and numbness but at a much lower level. I rarely feel the burning and the lightning bolts. I believe Mama is with me in my healing, guiding me, letting me know I am ready to heal some hurt parts of my childhood; letting me know and connect with her in a way we weren't able to when Mama was still around in physical form. I feel Mama's love; i feel her heart; i feel the joy now in her heart as she is with Papa; the little girl feels Mama (and Papa). I felt Mama's energy in my morning qigong practice .. and it was as her energy and the light entered my heart and filled up my being .. and then in my morning practice I am guided to direct the energy to places in my body that need extra care so I guided Mama's energy to my left arm and hand and then together visualized any blockages and excess energy turning to smoke, and then I felt Mama take the smoke and push the blockages and excess energy to the edges of the universe. Mama wants me to know she is with me. That I don't have to hold onto any emotional pain as she did; that I am ready to face into them and release all that no longer serves me from my body; that I am not alone ... that I have Mama, Papa, Ahnung, and so many more spirits ... she says I have quite the community of spirit guides and helpers in all forms. </p><p>Thank you Mama (and Papa .. and Ahnung) for continuing to watch over me ... for guiding me ... for teaching me .. and for sending so many amazing spirits and guides for the time I am here on earth ... </p><p>And to my dear friend who opened up the portal to another level of healing for me ... it was hard, it was painful and wow, am i ever so grateful now for the experience that led me to realize there is pathway for me to heal some old wounds on a much deeper level if I am able to muster up enough boldness and support ... and you my dear friend, I believe, have been sent to me by my Mama and Papa, and I am truly, truly grateful for you 💗</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQJOWmYn22xKkiO4zb4DEtcYTmhezy1F1LAgdouyTyejjKOAJlMJFnkGFoGeRlqOrfkJ9_-BnGQpmY6_vWNdudY5hvT2QVky1UPSWIrqy5yTrrT3g0RQlpgttC_SP59dyrgU5wqZOTc3Hu/s762/Mama+and+Papa+wedding.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="762" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQJOWmYn22xKkiO4zb4DEtcYTmhezy1F1LAgdouyTyejjKOAJlMJFnkGFoGeRlqOrfkJ9_-BnGQpmY6_vWNdudY5hvT2QVky1UPSWIrqy5yTrrT3g0RQlpgttC_SP59dyrgU5wqZOTc3Hu/s320/Mama+and+Papa+wedding.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Marilouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04754311331904306582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3428667705081488214.post-74003936638069346492021-06-26T13:16:00.000-05:002021-06-26T13:17:41.221-05:00Early morning hikes and why they matter<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKbjw2O5az_fY7oXgj4zfYbJMtl20iV-b3XX7FZy0o7n7PItFJeQFBaPELnLRhNxNDstD-85PC6s0Os3L2K4pNNyoYow_2VFHXHrPtSmC6sF3N9qf_rltKM0xXznN7pVfS6QejSCC2ShjP/s2048/IMG-3289.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKbjw2O5az_fY7oXgj4zfYbJMtl20iV-b3XX7FZy0o7n7PItFJeQFBaPELnLRhNxNDstD-85PC6s0Os3L2K4pNNyoYow_2VFHXHrPtSmC6sF3N9qf_rltKM0xXznN7pVfS6QejSCC2ShjP/s320/IMG-3289.jpg" width="320" /></a></div> It's been a while now - i actually don't remember how many years ago I made a commitment to walk every morning, no matter what the weather. And living here in Minnesota there are many months where temps are quite chilly, to put it mildly ... but my morning hikes aren't just walks; they aren't just about exercise. They return me to center; they ground me; they connect me with the spirit world, the natural world, and my inner world; they essentially reboot me ... and no matter what has transpired the day before or the night prior, I know that the sun sets every 24 hours, and the sun rises .. and when the sun rises I will be there to welcome her as she emerges above the horizon. I offer asema (tobacco) at the water every morning and i offer prayers of gratitude ... ever since my diagnosis of left ventricular non compaction in 2011 I have not taken my life for granted. I am grateful now for a diagnosis that made me face my immortality in an abrupt and jolting manner - and as a result, taught me how to live. Every day is a gift. I offer thanks for the gift of another day before i fall asleep at night ... and i offer thanks for the gift of another day each morning on my hikes. Amazingly, the last visit i had with my cardiologist earlier this year, he said to me, keep doing what you are doing ... I don't want to see you back for another 2 years, at which point, I asked, can we make it 3 years? He smiled and said, 'yes'. I truly believe our bodies (mind, body, heart) and the energy within and around us have the wisdom to heal ourselves. We simply need to activate the wisdom with us, individually and collectively ... and we need to listen .... truly listen ... not in ways we are accustomed to .... there are messages all around us ... we need to expand the view of where messages may arrive to us. When our gut and intuition is trying to speak to us ... we need to listen.<p></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg93MMK-ReOA2KcREW8dR8yr0AObKXM_Fr3x7Uu1wi8eO1UbPOexYGrGPBdEZ6RRzXnT4HrucpIYqUwf-xZ7eYVc7xKyppA0M3ln09BaCprpNBb4V90FqfK08NL2N8htlGR9yIEK91i7clW/s2048/IMG-3293.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg93MMK-ReOA2KcREW8dR8yr0AObKXM_Fr3x7Uu1wi8eO1UbPOexYGrGPBdEZ6RRzXnT4HrucpIYqUwf-xZ7eYVc7xKyppA0M3ln09BaCprpNBb4V90FqfK08NL2N8htlGR9yIEK91i7clW/s320/IMG-3293.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>My morning hikes allow me to drop into my body - to notice the sensations in my body; to feel my body and where there is tension, softening, restriction. In addition to dropping into my body, I sense and feel the energy around me. I am in awe every morning with the beautiful patterns of the clouds and I often turn my body in a full 360 to soak in the unique and shifting patterns of the clouds and how the skies can look so different and yet connected. The sky and the clouds are a 3D panoramic and ever evolving canvas. And then I notice the wildflowers and the weeds ... the color, how they sway with the wind, and how they reach towards the sun. In nature I feel the aliveness in me and I acknowledge we are all connected - we are all related. Some mornings I am gifted with the presence of coyote, other mornings ... eagle, owls, turtles, hawks ... and each morning deer and so many birds .. and their songs, and their joy. Every morning my body and my being, that sometimes gets depleted from the worries, stress and busyness of life from the previous day, .... my being is filled up again with joy, awe, aliveness, energy, gratitude.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvmOvktl_r2IACillsfkpInsydAxlyPHVJWVY9ZIlXrPGV99soejeZVYbaA2K-tXNmIcbCXV6clSvGUfnqyIDp9uetACfQ5unkvLEbt0qOVK9JbZ2OLp2JMpn0YhPAyYd8HP0AsgWAUu2X/s2048/IMG-3313.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvmOvktl_r2IACillsfkpInsydAxlyPHVJWVY9ZIlXrPGV99soejeZVYbaA2K-tXNmIcbCXV6clSvGUfnqyIDp9uetACfQ5unkvLEbt0qOVK9JbZ2OLp2JMpn0YhPAyYd8HP0AsgWAUu2X/s320/IMG-3313.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>My morning hikes ... they matter for my heart, my body, my soul, my spirit, my mind. They are as essential to me now as the air I breathe. They remind me of my humanness; they remind me of my connection to all; they remind me of the minuscule role I play in this universe ... </p>So yes, I am deeply committed to my early morning hikes and they are a part of my daily practices to care for my whole being so I can, in turn, be of service to the beings, communities and causes that matter to me in this life time.<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>A question for your reflection and consideration .... are your practices and habits in alignment with what matters to you? <br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSA9A7VNbCFmk_u2Fgv-2EZJxxmbCnyJWZbovH1UEbDRwsAXlspBjUAvnBDwahVIWZzBD71gnnYeeMxuFZtqAWusSOK97fnuudkZEyWdyv4BZQ-VHTD18DGyomcCJrxwjXkfBwpun89-Nd/s2048/IMG-3328.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1282" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSA9A7VNbCFmk_u2Fgv-2EZJxxmbCnyJWZbovH1UEbDRwsAXlspBjUAvnBDwahVIWZzBD71gnnYeeMxuFZtqAWusSOK97fnuudkZEyWdyv4BZQ-VHTD18DGyomcCJrxwjXkfBwpun89-Nd/s320/IMG-3328.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3rb_azHpC3PmJGd8Jrmhb1GTm1FzO6CISVX-pPbyEKGHTRnWInDifmV7j-5wtA_lBijhO6IiErpkVi-Hd7qGlm1567ZJWCDNE2Hga-LH_eHluRO65VpkVtO6TzMbEZvuL5Y95mQTLc7MH/s2048/IMG-3468.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3rb_azHpC3PmJGd8Jrmhb1GTm1FzO6CISVX-pPbyEKGHTRnWInDifmV7j-5wtA_lBijhO6IiErpkVi-Hd7qGlm1567ZJWCDNE2Hga-LH_eHluRO65VpkVtO6TzMbEZvuL5Y95mQTLc7MH/s320/IMG-3468.jpg" /></a></div><br /></div>Marilouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04754311331904306582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3428667705081488214.post-54570987691072393752021-06-20T11:25:00.000-05:002021-06-20T11:25:13.763-05:00Dipping my toes into the stream of writing again ...<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi92uzP5W2TXR2J37UUZw0ejeJNPutkLlyb6KIh_urhhH-n5R18UyyN7lYi_DWnH2vU2RqVJqtt3-NgjB7Xcb7a80MQzrVFyvJmxToY8KShtcq3LKsR0SO3lbVH4HgIMFnYdnPG4d2e7VvV/s2048/IMG-3425.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi92uzP5W2TXR2J37UUZw0ejeJNPutkLlyb6KIh_urhhH-n5R18UyyN7lYi_DWnH2vU2RqVJqtt3-NgjB7Xcb7a80MQzrVFyvJmxToY8KShtcq3LKsR0SO3lbVH4HgIMFnYdnPG4d2e7VvV/s320/IMG-3425.jpg" /></a></div>So much has transpired over the years. I stepped away from posting on my blog. Not long after the passing of my beloved spirit dog Ahnung in August, 2013 I found the need to step back from publicly posting, and also simply writing. Now, I continue to receive messages from spirits and from friends, inspiring and inviting me to return to writing. Writing has been such a healing tool for me in my life's journey. I found escape as a child from emotions I was unable to express, and pain of not knowing or being taught how to navigate a world of armored walls around hearts, and a longing of a child to be loved that could not be met ... not because there wasn't love ... because of what i have come to learn is our own trauma and our pain we carry through our lives, unresolved, buried, locked in the hidden crevices of our brain that seep out and find ways to express pain in unfortunately harmful and hurtful ways. I continue in my life's journey of healing and returning home to myself and re-discovering who I am, what matters to me, what and who I care about, and who I want to be in this world. And I commit to practices that align to who I want to be in this world, the role I want to play in social justice and making this world a just and equitable world for all beings, and how I want to be in relationship with others. I had many significant health issues in the past and an elder once told me, Creator gifted you with Ahnung and she came to guide you and to also take the physical disease that had manifested in your body because my work on this earth was not done. The five short years I had with Ahnung (2008 - 2013) opened up portals of healing I could not have walked through without her. Her story didn't end in 2013. I am realizing now her story continues through me, and her story ... our story ... must be shared.<p></p><p>So today, I dip my toes into the stream of writing and sharing again. I write again with the spirit of Ahnung guiding me through the messengers and messages she continues to send my way every day. The story of Ahnung speaking to me through owls and their feathers is one that I will share another time. For now, I hold and carry the energy of Ahnung and the owl as I move forward into the world of writing and sharing again.</p><p>Aapiji go miigwech Ahnung for continuing to live in me and through me.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfTDJqEJpBNJ7BHFSEgu25iVvz6-5xv1roCItVxC5tDGuBiBKFSNSl5JpSyVN5JyIydPqhDMOJSPMUeATqGkeJE8eVumLiUqksr6qFPIUzi9ld1E-ndd0XLg83yhnvkNOMkvpECbu4xW9b/s1600/ahnung5k9_2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1139" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfTDJqEJpBNJ7BHFSEgu25iVvz6-5xv1roCItVxC5tDGuBiBKFSNSl5JpSyVN5JyIydPqhDMOJSPMUeATqGkeJE8eVumLiUqksr6qFPIUzi9ld1E-ndd0XLg83yhnvkNOMkvpECbu4xW9b/s320/ahnung5k9_2010.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p> </p><p><br /></p>Marilouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04754311331904306582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3428667705081488214.post-19797186063038066232019-11-17T15:13:00.000-06:002019-11-17T15:13:07.945-06:00Larissa Minicucci ... a bright new star in the night skies<br />
<div class="_3x-2" data-ft="{"tn":"H"}" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<div data-ft="{"tn":"H"}" style="font-family: inherit;">
<div class="mtm" style="font-family: inherit; margin-top: 10px;">
<div style="font-family: inherit; position: relative;">
<div class="_5cq3 _1ktf" data-ft="{"tn":"E"}" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: -12px; position: relative;">
<a ajaxify="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10156573730781003&set=a.51913996002&type=3&eid=ARBIXTYc-fh4n6evGogC3xUATvObfCYKTzZVf9_uB1Jr4nPBXEyJIdEF00nJtOLqrTqV3LVkIgWNUb8M&size=1280%2C848&source=13&player_origin=story_view" class="_4-eo _2t9n" data-ploi="https://scontent.ffcm1-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/76171098_10156573730791003_788722356808843264_o.jpg?_nc_cat=107&_nc_oc=AQncrM0G2KdFGu06EBw0vQ61tdBtTf8QTlja--no6_2pBXZPzjNh6T3IbeLGS-p9h1I5eSrX7mb4l91-TAsMuBR1&_nc_ht=scontent.ffcm1-2.fna&oh=af8b99f7868ba7000b29b062da8a4bc6&oe=5E84BF93" data-plsi="https://scontent.ffcm1-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/s960x960/76171098_10156573730791003_788722356808843264_o.jpg?_nc_cat=107&_nc_oc=AQncrM0G2KdFGu06EBw0vQ61tdBtTf8QTlja--no6_2pBXZPzjNh6T3IbeLGS-p9h1I5eSrX7mb4l91-TAsMuBR1&_nc_ht=scontent.ffcm1-2.fna&oh=2a30116a484bbab5f6f05e811435bf4e&oe=5E571CF4" data-render-location="permalink" href="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10156573730781003&set=a.51913996002&type=3&eid=ARBIXTYc-fh4n6evGogC3xUATvObfCYKTzZVf9_uB1Jr4nPBXEyJIdEF00nJtOLqrTqV3LVkIgWNUb8M" rel="theater" style="box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.05) 0px 1px 1px; color: #385898; cursor: pointer; display: block; font-family: inherit; position: relative; text-decoration: underline; width: 500px;"></a></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<br />
<div class="_5pbx userContent _3576" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-testid="post_message" id="js_8" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 6px; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0px 0px 6px;">
Posted on November 14, 2019 on my facebook page ... it is with great sadness and a heavy heart I share that our beloved Larissa has since crossed over into the spirit world on Saturday, November 16, 2019 around 3 pm. For more on this amazing human being please check out her caring bridge site: <a href="https://www.caringbridge.org/visit/larissaminicucci/journal/view/id/5dd095bcec1003bf448b45d4">https://www.caringbridge.org/visit/larissaminicucci/journal/view/id/5dd095bcec1003bf448b45d4</a></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0px 0px 6px;">
---------------------------</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxoHgklMQXns8WQKsbqYxTADopHQSwi71SDmLXbSzjWXACCYDZghJ0oM5aZyY9eWDkzAF8HxzIHJZ_Y-sbZFnMlSvqN6xY2i3_vEmMsSlqqYY3tpSCBy4kgw38vxlVT0EXrUuUgAHrt9Tc/s1600/Larissa+and+Jonathan+Oct2018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="848" data-original-width="1280" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxoHgklMQXns8WQKsbqYxTADopHQSwi71SDmLXbSzjWXACCYDZghJ0oM5aZyY9eWDkzAF8HxzIHJZ_Y-sbZFnMlSvqN6xY2i3_vEmMsSlqqYY3tpSCBy4kgw38vxlVT0EXrUuUgAHrt9Tc/s320/Larissa+and+Jonathan+Oct2018.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0px 0px 6px;">
As many of us prepare for the crossing over into the spirit world of our beloved friend, partner, mentor, teacher I want to share with you a photo taken at the Leech Lake SIRVS clinic in Oct. 2018 with<span> </span><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=1485247221&extragetparams=%7B%22__tn__%22%3A%22%2CdK-R-R%22%2C%22eid%22%3A%22ARCgJb07KQN-_I1JlKtfNpGJJNHRfqJ5-MwmJ_bGJQ63OYsqncboSRotJ8SI7E4uc_4AjY2tkncfXZy7%22%2C%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/jielbaz?__tn__=%2CdK-R-R&eid=ARCgJb07KQN-_I1JlKtfNpGJJNHRfqJ5-MwmJ_bGJQ63OYsqncboSRotJ8SI7E4uc_4AjY2tkncfXZy7&fref=mentions" style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit; text-decoration: none;" title="Jonathan Elbaz">Jonathan Elbaz</a>, current president of SIRVS which shows the spirit of Larissa, the spirit of SIRVS, and the amazing fire and spirit of SIRVS (Student Initiative for Reservation Veterinary Services). I have had the honor of working with many SIRVS presidents over the years, and they have all been amazing (<a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=13900835&extragetparams=%7B%22__tn__%22%3A%22%2CdK-R-R%22%2C%22eid%22%3A%22ARCjoPXqdiAwwnWx2H97aW19S-tFsVwt9-4AtGKhEHAvkt2tTx4bd2ZqCVAvm1u23mx_JiYvOV2S1wnW%22%2C%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/kube0029?__tn__=%2CdK-R-R&eid=ARCjoPXqdiAwwnWx2H97aW19S-tFsVwt9-4AtGKhEHAvkt2tTx4bd2ZqCVAvm1u23mx_JiYvOV2S1wnW&fref=mentions" style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit; text-decoration: none;" title="Molly Kubeczko-Schmidt">Molly Kubeczko-Schmidt</a>,<span> </span><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=649242130&extragetparams=%7B%22__tn__%22%3A%22%2CdK-R-R%22%2C%22eid%22%3A%22ARAxGNHQ7OQF1rY9Fy6bLiXMf3C_s-fQncRVf8LnVAvl8JVxkXH9WhruvBn3kdA8UdB35OvTCM56JoBN%22%2C%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=649242130&__tn__=%2CdK-R-R&eid=ARAxGNHQ7OQF1rY9Fy6bLiXMf3C_s-fQncRVf8LnVAvl8JVxkXH9WhruvBn3kdA8UdB35OvTCM56JoBN&fref=mentions" style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit; text-decoration: none;" title="Rachel Marie">Rachel Marie</a>,<span> </span><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=661813907&extragetparams=%7B%22__tn__%22%3A%22%2CdK-R-R%22%2C%22eid%22%3A%22ARBYbesu9HgvV_GaqZQoe-hf7-elgEWpnu6lGZ-jCYHIRJ5ipuOiSLgIpkFHCiVNVNiD5Tw8eE8_LTi_%22%2C%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/kristen.capen?__tn__=%2CdK-R-R&eid=ARBYbesu9HgvV_GaqZQoe-hf7-elgEWpnu6lGZ-jCYHIRJ5ipuOiSLgIpkFHCiVNVNiD5Tw8eE8_LTi_&fref=mentions" style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit; text-decoration: none;" title="Kristen Capen">Kristen Capen</a><span> </span>and this year's president elect,<span> </span><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=1143062054&extragetparams=%7B%22__tn__%22%3A%22%2CdK-R-R%22%2C%22eid%22%3A%22ARBzQ9mTlwFdYUH5IJJ0bYn9diHo7g9QijU0U5Xxs-6l7UBqz5y1SNu8aZO2z18MY-qa4PFj4GNBa9YK%22%2C%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/hhooberman?__tn__=%2CdK-R-R&eid=ARBzQ9mTlwFdYUH5IJJ0bYn9diHo7g9QijU0U5Xxs-6l7UBqz5y1SNu8aZO2z18MY-qa4PFj4GNBa9YK&fref=mentions" style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit; text-decoration: none;" title="Hilary Hooberman">Hilary Hooberman</a>).</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
I picked Larissa up from home so we could ride together to Leech Lake ... we have many road trips and last year after her diagnosis with cancer we had two road trips (Red Lake and Leech Lake). We had long heartfelt conversations. She told me she wasn't afraid of death - she just wasn't ready. She talked for hours about two of her deepest loves - her work with SIRVS, the students, tribal communities .. and then she talked for hours about her husband Lou.</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
Yesterday at the hospital I promised her that her work with SIRVS and tribal communities will continue. That I know she will be with us in spirit and that I am counting on her letting us know if we flounder or go astray by sending us a strong message ... she smiled and there was a twinkle in her eyes.</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
Many of us are grieving deeply already. It's like someone stuck a knife in our hearts. And my heart hurts so deeply for an amazing husband who shared with me, in his own words, how he met Larissa 16 years ago. And there was a twinkle in both their eyes.</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
She has touched the lives of so many, and she wants us to continue this work. I encourage us all to find a way to talk to this overwhelming, all consuming grief ... I share with you one of my favorite poems. Grief has arrived at our door step. I am going to invite Grief in ... Grief brought me a puppy from the Mille Lacs SIRVS clinic (her name is Migizi, and when I held her i could feel Larissa's presence so strongly and was guided to name her Migizi). I will be adopting Migizi. With Ahnung (means 'star' in ojibwe - spirit dog from Red Lake), Ishkode ('fire' in ojibwe - from Leech Lake) and now Migizi ('eagle in ojibwe - from Mille Lacs) I promised Larissa our collaborative work with tribal communities will continue.</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
Together, we will keep Larissa's spirit alive. To my friends at Leech Lake and Mille Lacs and White Earth, I ask for your support and know I can count on you ...<span> </span><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=1498091162&extragetparams=%7B%22__tn__%22%3A%22%2CdK-R-R%22%2C%22eid%22%3A%22ARD9LXO9iUmHo5gi2AvcGKYeh0mXJVdTYk3z8G6TRoKIxV6gH67NCchCp9itINerMbKhcR-Z4BcHRmgz%22%2C%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/nordrum1?__tn__=%2CdK-R-R&eid=ARD9LXO9iUmHo5gi2AvcGKYeh0mXJVdTYk3z8G6TRoKIxV6gH67NCchCp9itINerMbKhcR-Z4BcHRmgz&fref=mentions" style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit; text-decoration: none;" title="Shirley Nordrum">Shirley Nordrum</a><span> </span><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=100000006918553&extragetparams=%7B%22__tn__%22%3A%22%2CdK-R-R%22%2C%22eid%22%3A%22ARC0pPdXX3IyxgT2ICjclTdt-bC-61rttQSBh5w05GB3_yZF_eTbejlInSHL1SHWNVafR42741EoK0ao%22%2C%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/sharon.nordrum?__tn__=%2CdK-R-R&eid=ARC0pPdXX3IyxgT2ICjclTdt-bC-61rttQSBh5w05GB3_yZF_eTbejlInSHL1SHWNVafR42741EoK0ao&fref=mentions" style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit; text-decoration: none;" title="Sharon Nordrum">Sharon Nordrum</a><span> </span><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=100006285216387&extragetparams=%7B%22__tn__%22%3A%22%2CdK-R-R%22%2C%22eid%22%3A%22ARAQ7z_HRhANDeJRzOSN1e7meE_jSrqGLM0pKiffuTn2D6GpkznjzxwWaTGKLCgY-IYf4Dawf2qXhmBL%22%2C%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/jane.kingbird?__tn__=%2CdK-R-R&eid=ARAQ7z_HRhANDeJRzOSN1e7meE_jSrqGLM0pKiffuTn2D6GpkznjzxwWaTGKLCgY-IYf4Dawf2qXhmBL&fref=mentions" style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit; text-decoration: none;" title="Veronica Bratvold">Veronica Bratvold</a><span> </span><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=100000286986458&extragetparams=%7B%22__tn__%22%3A%22%2CdK-R-R%22%2C%22eid%22%3A%22ARAO799hSvcKoWcZ2osdx9owkUdmob5ursThkxEKfTiP-zyrPo61EsyHaFAOyfar_B42FIz3Fc48GbR9%22%2C%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/winnie.walleye?__tn__=%2CdK-R-R&eid=ARAO799hSvcKoWcZ2osdx9owkUdmob5ursThkxEKfTiP-zyrPo61EsyHaFAOyfar_B42FIz3Fc48GbR9&fref=mentions" style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit; text-decoration: none;" title="Winnie Walleye">Winnie Walleye</a><span> </span><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=820845566&extragetparams=%7B%22__tn__%22%3A%22%2CdK-R-R%22%2C%22eid%22%3A%22ARAJiuXcpxNr1jsOO6fXH5_Q9EvyQevVnV-57AlK9xoRn8eb7lfLr-sOBy2zh4CZmUqAHpUlgunfmmo1%22%2C%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/melissa.yuenger?__tn__=%2CdK-R-R&eid=ARAJiuXcpxNr1jsOO6fXH5_Q9EvyQevVnV-57AlK9xoRn8eb7lfLr-sOBy2zh4CZmUqAHpUlgunfmmo1&fref=mentions" style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit; text-decoration: none;" title="Melissa Yuenger">Melissa Yuenger</a><span> </span><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=100004491286592&extragetparams=%7B%22__tn__%22%3A%22%2CdK-R-R%22%2C%22eid%22%3A%22ARDaAxaf1LKCrKlVlq7_PIFsEc3Z3EXRrQY0kXat-8_4k_i3La5tb_Gmy2YoxMGBJDeLcrEHyHRwnd5v%22%2C%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100004491286592&__tn__=%2CdK-R-R&eid=ARDaAxaf1LKCrKlVlq7_PIFsEc3Z3EXRrQY0kXat-8_4k_i3La5tb_Gmy2YoxMGBJDeLcrEHyHRwnd5v&fref=mentions" style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit; text-decoration: none;" title="Angela Nordman">Angela Nordman</a><span> </span><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=689558463&extragetparams=%7B%22__tn__%22%3A%22%2CdK-R-R%22%2C%22eid%22%3A%22ARCZQideFrVxYXFJoLRGiTJCHXLXo_9VUaIlRzM4Esvn5Wzd40Pe3E6VkQJHx_g-rh2lUH1_9D4VGTAo%22%2C%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/garywayneb?__tn__=%2CdK-R-R&eid=ARCZQideFrVxYXFJoLRGiTJCHXLXo_9VUaIlRzM4Esvn5Wzd40Pe3E6VkQJHx_g-rh2lUH1_9D4VGTAo&fref=mentions" style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit; text-decoration: none;" title="Gary Wayne Branchaud">Gary Wayne Branchaud</a><span> </span><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=100000002176827&extragetparams=%7B%22__tn__%22%3A%22%2CdK-R-R%22%2C%22eid%22%3A%22ARCd01PQejSGHt_pXjMTYzQNwnzSeKu74dH7GENZcSEWm4upxfvaTciuhXY8RmZ0ebccotbE27wkEfge%22%2C%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/li.boyd?__tn__=%2CdK-R-R&eid=ARCd01PQejSGHt_pXjMTYzQNwnzSeKu74dH7GENZcSEWm4upxfvaTciuhXY8RmZ0ebccotbE27wkEfge&fref=mentions" style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit; text-decoration: none;" title="Li Boyd">Li Boyd</a><span> </span><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=1354265913&extragetparams=%7B%22__tn__%22%3A%22%2CdK-R-R%22%2C%22eid%22%3A%22ARB-GNHABH1Ly0P9trJFhgXakEn1lH4ayyhyA8IPq23syIKlpfUEtlV7skwIUVAq1VTKMsg067RMdoDi%22%2C%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/MaryHelenSkelly?__tn__=%2CdK-R-R&eid=ARB-GNHABH1Ly0P9trJFhgXakEn1lH4ayyhyA8IPq23syIKlpfUEtlV7skwIUVAq1VTKMsg067RMdoDi&fref=mentions" style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit; text-decoration: none;" title="Mary H. Skelly">Mary H. Skelly</a><span> </span><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=100024778094950&extragetparams=%7B%22__tn__%22%3A%22%2CdK-R-R%22%2C%22eid%22%3A%22ARBKO-lyBuBxPhPXJlRBx9ClaUU07iP_SQKix0mzB4V1IcvNqBfNOT0hfNSQH-Zl0uy4L5SksvlRcLxo%22%2C%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/twoyota.shabaiash?__tn__=%2CdK-R-R&eid=ARBKO-lyBuBxPhPXJlRBx9ClaUU07iP_SQKix0mzB4V1IcvNqBfNOT0hfNSQH-Zl0uy4L5SksvlRcLxo&fref=mentions" style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit; text-decoration: none;" title="Tawny Warren">Tawny Warren</a></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
Please continue to hold Larissa in your heart as she prepares her transition into the spirit world ....</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
Talking to Grief (by Denise Levertov)</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
Ah, grief, I should not treat you<br />like a homeless dog<br />who comes to the back door<br />for a crust, for a meatless bone.<br />I should trust you.</div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px;">
I should coax you<br />into the house and give you<br />your own corner,<br />a worn mat to lie on,<br />your own water dish.</div>
<div style="display: inline; font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px 0px;">
You think I don't know you've been living<br />under my porch.<br />You long for your real place to be readied<br />before winter comes. You need<br />your name,<br />your collar and tag. You need<br />the right to warn off intruders,<br />to consider<br />my house your own<br />and me your person<br />and yourself<br />my own dog.</div>
</div>
<div class="_5pbx userContent _3576" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-testid="post_message" id="js_8" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 6px; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<div style="display: inline; font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLfaEfxPEsQafTRzrwtSYfzFPycZCcj_dQ8LbbU9hUhMbuxvlgS5poaPr3hCm0Q_5sOnZ5v9EHb6e__dbCPoUhvHdpujCrDF8Xm3-SwoamGfHgeQhtGNqLXAuDb8WYVDKuhTfBqBnKv6X8/s1600/Larissa+and+puppy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1108" data-original-width="1280" height="277" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLfaEfxPEsQafTRzrwtSYfzFPycZCcj_dQ8LbbU9hUhMbuxvlgS5poaPr3hCm0Q_5sOnZ5v9EHb6e__dbCPoUhvHdpujCrDF8Xm3-SwoamGfHgeQhtGNqLXAuDb8WYVDKuhTfBqBnKv6X8/s320/Larissa+and+puppy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk5XBU3-OzWy4g9f6k3IxkLaDMYtbvXGjgsk714i9lpVh8YI4uTMKOjUcJJ76Ti7RwUNV8aHDXKzcfAO6u1kDrxMpCAfgm5DL2FeiaADTba3JH3wbAmR6OhutZt7fFtZmm5johfhvx692c/s1600/Larissa+Kristen+Marilou.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk5XBU3-OzWy4g9f6k3IxkLaDMYtbvXGjgsk714i9lpVh8YI4uTMKOjUcJJ76Ti7RwUNV8aHDXKzcfAO6u1kDrxMpCAfgm5DL2FeiaADTba3JH3wbAmR6OhutZt7fFtZmm5johfhvx692c/s320/Larissa+Kristen+Marilou.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8srHs6AuI79CMOJmBEnqaZ8tnLRPPrbKkWQip9nBWVQrWg04y0A6GDfxseAZ0un4j3fMWb2e71rE68NAPGPwmaAIlPMYVQFSgUmoWwsSu2QzUFKgdkdd1VeumATa6IYzGv4u4ZORAYimv/s1600/Larissa+little+girl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="848" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8srHs6AuI79CMOJmBEnqaZ8tnLRPPrbKkWQip9nBWVQrWg04y0A6GDfxseAZ0un4j3fMWb2e71rE68NAPGPwmaAIlPMYVQFSgUmoWwsSu2QzUFKgdkdd1VeumATa6IYzGv4u4ZORAYimv/s320/Larissa+little+girl.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBtqZQ8sE8c9L5cBHBDXOsyv2TR7QpQModw8_NivGzCZr8rIigjV0bTj3WULJCPgLYDYwm7rHeQz_Qf1oxaTMJMXR0-gx7GCnbBVk1mkdahP5GYFSOZDkRJmSD-w5fSfct4hSc0SMPiauk/s1600/LarissaandJasmineSIRVS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1078" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBtqZQ8sE8c9L5cBHBDXOsyv2TR7QpQModw8_NivGzCZr8rIigjV0bTj3WULJCPgLYDYwm7rHeQz_Qf1oxaTMJMXR0-gx7GCnbBVk1mkdahP5GYFSOZDkRJmSD-w5fSfct4hSc0SMPiauk/s320/LarissaandJasmineSIRVS.jpg" width="269" /></a></div>
<div class="_5pbx userContent _3576" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-testid="post_message" id="js_8" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 6px; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
<div style="display: inline; font-family: inherit; margin: 6px 0px 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Marilouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04754311331904306582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3428667705081488214.post-83505768694918780462019-10-02T06:52:00.001-05:002019-10-02T06:52:35.931-05:00Celebrating 31 years of sobriety, of living!<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipY-eB2lfcN-VV1VIWFsHlbEgmvKnM1OjcLYIMm0gXUioDyR0_pgau8-JhAzRQ1lU7GhxBEJnThrM6i7KLTMPje0KL2EF21InDmHRoF7fjexkEMBn76VlfOsAVcGj4SDJJ4vz7RtpmpPdF/s1600/Splat+puppy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1075" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipY-eB2lfcN-VV1VIWFsHlbEgmvKnM1OjcLYIMm0gXUioDyR0_pgau8-JhAzRQ1lU7GhxBEJnThrM6i7KLTMPje0KL2EF21InDmHRoF7fjexkEMBn76VlfOsAVcGj4SDJJ4vz7RtpmpPdF/s320/Splat+puppy.jpg" width="215" /></a>Yesterday, October 1, 2019 I celebrated 31 years of sobriety. I owe my life to a
puppy. A puppy I named Splat (i was playing competitive racquetball at the
time, and 'splat' was my favorite shot). I had fallen 'off the wagon'. I was in
so much emotional pain and wanted to numb myself from the pain so I started
drinking after one previous attempt to get sober. I drank and I drank and I
drank. My Papa must have known that the only way to get through to his baby
girl was to bring her a puppy, so he led me to this little girl, the runt of
the litter. I remember meeting this woman in Chesterfield, Missouri at my mom's
house. She was selling her puppies for $100. There were six cocker spaniel
puppies. All were running around and rolling over each other, chasing each
other, except for this one black cocker spaniel puppy ... she found her way to
me and climbed onto my legs as I was seated cross legged on the grass, and
curled up and went to sleep. I looked at the woman and said, 'this one. I want
this one.' Splat was my first dog. After i had written the check and sent the
woman off I thought to myself, what the heck have I done?! I have never had a
puppy! I don't know what to do. This little tiny being needs me. I felt this
huge responsibility to care for this being. I realized I had to get myself
together ... get my life back together. So on October 1, 1988, I walked back in
to an AA meeting after 2 years off the wagon. I chose life. I chose Splat. I
chose a new path. And something inside me knew that this time around it would
be different because i had an angel my Papa sent to me, a furry 4-legged
precious being ... and my sweet little princess was my heart. She saved my
life. Thanks to her, and my Papa, I am alive today and I am celebrating 31
years of sobriety and life.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1BixvZZVnQGgN-rBMH5F5OdLcFE0ZKzCsgKm85Jrtp-zS2-DIKqvOHl1ZGglrimaACT3htTV4beLEH8HcTybSySkrxm2uk3NLKP79P1Q3m73IUVezgXBMF6v-fIcrM7PSS5U2qtTTQBtf/s1600/splat+and+me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1397" data-original-width="934" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1BixvZZVnQGgN-rBMH5F5OdLcFE0ZKzCsgKm85Jrtp-zS2-DIKqvOHl1ZGglrimaACT3htTV4beLEH8HcTybSySkrxm2uk3NLKP79P1Q3m73IUVezgXBMF6v-fIcrM7PSS5U2qtTTQBtf/s320/splat+and+me.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I lost my beloved Splat very suddenly (and what I now
believe to have been a hate crime) on July 20, 2000, shortly after I moved to
Minnesota. I share more about this on a blog post I wrote in 2010 (her 10 year
anniversary) ... I also share more about how she (and Ahnung), through my
dreams, opened the door for me to begin my healing around the sexual abuse ...
from my blog: ".... Interestingly, Splat (whom I named after a racquetball
shot as I playing a lot of racquetball at the time) appeared in my dreams a
couple summers ago .. in fact, it was a nightmare, but it was her way to tell
me I was getting ready to begin a journey of some major healing ... and she was
right. For a writing class i'm taking at The Loft I chose to write about the
healing and transformation I have gone through in dealing with past sexual
abuse. My piece opens with the dream I had where Splat appears in July, 2008.
The piece ends with a dream I recently had (July, 2010) where my dog Ahnung
appears and she takes my flying!! It was my dog Splat, who's been dead for 10
years, who opened up a door I've sealed shut for decades - the secret of abuse
- and it's now my dog Ahnung who is helping me move through it .... I think God
knows that the angels I need come in the form of furry four-legged beings
:)" ...<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thank you Splat and Ahnung for working together over the
decades to help me heal. I know you are both still with me, along with
Shen, Shadow, Missy and Mister guiding me along in my life's journey. Together,
we celebrate 31 years of sobriety!! <o:p></o:p></div>
Marilouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04754311331904306582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3428667705081488214.post-78045090552992558612019-02-05T05:02:00.002-06:002019-02-05T05:02:59.094-06:00RIP sweet Missy Bear RIP<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPEdj2PsGg_QR0GGAVbMj5yWacASBx9psX_t6Ry-XLxwGsunCti5YeNxQACjTQfLz7oATJhuF_b-tLRmY2g-F7fbNdP8hPgpUOEHhzfxmd3xG9iMQERtC_hJ1I7O2GaNDd3ANXZ6NDfAo-/s1600/Missy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1060" data-original-width="1600" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPEdj2PsGg_QR0GGAVbMj5yWacASBx9psX_t6Ry-XLxwGsunCti5YeNxQACjTQfLz7oATJhuF_b-tLRmY2g-F7fbNdP8hPgpUOEHhzfxmd3xG9iMQERtC_hJ1I7O2GaNDd3ANXZ6NDfAo-/s320/Missy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
We set Missy's spirit free yesterday morning. Grief has come again. She is here to stay. My heart hurts so deeply. I miss you Missy Bear. I miss you. Travel safe ... I find comfort in knowing you are once again with your siblings Ahnung and Mister. Till we meet again, on the other side sweet girl.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7-cry5Tunyx8uuzRTQZ7QwDOXwgVKAEzr9_2D2TZtTMmBIg8wV4OKMDsrxTHAsn2OKRTnrlOiws2eUmJs45OTgzQjWcj0-Tzuab27jcddnOyOhcWp3eGAWy3wDoY3oXQVp7ncPXIXcMeX/s1600/Ahnung+Missy+Mister+purple+couch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="402" data-original-width="604" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7-cry5Tunyx8uuzRTQZ7QwDOXwgVKAEzr9_2D2TZtTMmBIg8wV4OKMDsrxTHAsn2OKRTnrlOiws2eUmJs45OTgzQjWcj0-Tzuab27jcddnOyOhcWp3eGAWy3wDoY3oXQVp7ncPXIXcMeX/s320/Ahnung+Missy+Mister+purple+couch.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkr-QUXoMYfVLytc_JO5Dgzm22tCv5BpxOMDFwoMXOOLpMm6c_sCT2ra6J7ETqqJanqWJV7nJDobv0tJLVMty0yFgGThP2p9P4v1NYIVs0iHbypDH0YqUnS4oVyQ_IOQBfYyW9l7JWmY-9/s1600/Missy+Ahnung+Mister+2011+Studio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkr-QUXoMYfVLytc_JO5Dgzm22tCv5BpxOMDFwoMXOOLpMm6c_sCT2ra6J7ETqqJanqWJV7nJDobv0tJLVMty0yFgGThP2p9P4v1NYIVs0iHbypDH0YqUnS4oVyQ_IOQBfYyW9l7JWmY-9/s320/Missy+Ahnung+Mister+2011+Studio.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAlGGasA03njKhHP11ebsWrDzQ6m6HBGbsTL4YIEDfEQbX5HB22vbQoxqbImj7SK6En7_EmaOIVj4Rcj7_dcc60vf4VwMdBYNcLGS_Y2EQB_lQLgNgo35l0lkYDvXriGBaknH56UMJZTOH/s1600/MissyandMister_naptime.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="752" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAlGGasA03njKhHP11ebsWrDzQ6m6HBGbsTL4YIEDfEQbX5HB22vbQoxqbImj7SK6En7_EmaOIVj4Rcj7_dcc60vf4VwMdBYNcLGS_Y2EQB_lQLgNgo35l0lkYDvXriGBaknH56UMJZTOH/s320/MissyandMister_naptime.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
Marilouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04754311331904306582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3428667705081488214.post-9302132796104622722019-01-28T07:17:00.000-06:002019-01-28T07:17:18.593-06:00My Missy Bear ,,,,<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8rLhKAItXAuRHVI1RLKKgpvIYj_VSwcFWrvdWUXRBb9Qc6Ikep0rUEAaPwspuylJoW3-wm94Zd0D-Y07JwRvK81tbpuRh8qgCvv_DsM0oQS-jv_FOwqOnBfFjnoWLwxz2TBc75SCeXfV2/s1600/missy_stoic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8rLhKAItXAuRHVI1RLKKgpvIYj_VSwcFWrvdWUXRBb9Qc6Ikep0rUEAaPwspuylJoW3-wm94Zd0D-Y07JwRvK81tbpuRh8qgCvv_DsM0oQS-jv_FOwqOnBfFjnoWLwxz2TBc75SCeXfV2/s1600/missy_stoic.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Missy - 2008</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjShqVgfENG9m73vSqQvDiqy11Axyj-gZF0DAwpZry3iTEiAx15kwUMsHIw_kts6Eb0o-2RWrd8Ji3sjM0Ngs-m1i3-aMp7VZZSJsSIWpeTMXQRo1_PfbhCYjnc_88kWCZLONTutdqcC_Tw/s1600/dogsscrunchedonbed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1064" data-original-width="1600" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjShqVgfENG9m73vSqQvDiqy11Axyj-gZF0DAwpZry3iTEiAx15kwUMsHIw_kts6Eb0o-2RWrd8Ji3sjM0Ngs-m1i3-aMp7VZZSJsSIWpeTMXQRo1_PfbhCYjnc_88kWCZLONTutdqcC_Tw/s320/dogsscrunchedonbed.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Missy Mister Ahnung 2011</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxrmq021TH9o_YKmtft8_u__FxHwV4-024oIb72gw_XAUek9sV9B_Elrz62jEL7LDO-6vtAdu-R42LE3srqcLiAfWeans_ZJoHVPMYlGjDa8ed2ZavvGTRy153ZAtjrU7hV0Ak4v0gbfpY/s1600/Missy+and+Mister+treats+please+9Oct02017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxrmq021TH9o_YKmtft8_u__FxHwV4-024oIb72gw_XAUek9sV9B_Elrz62jEL7LDO-6vtAdu-R42LE3srqcLiAfWeans_ZJoHVPMYlGjDa8ed2ZavvGTRy153ZAtjrU7hV0Ak4v0gbfpY/s320/Missy+and+Mister+treats+please+9Oct02017.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Missy and Mister 2017</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
My beloved Missy (14.5 years old) is approaching the end. Her final walk. She is being watched over and guided by her siblings Ahnung and Mister who are ready to greet her. I am cherishing every moment I have with her. Thank you Missy (Ahnung and Mister) for letting me know it is time to prepare ... my heart hurts ... I find comfort in knowing Ahnung and Mister will be there to greet you when the time comes.Marilouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04754311331904306582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3428667705081488214.post-70306295670156217552018-09-14T07:06:00.001-05:002018-09-14T07:14:35.230-05:00Happy Birthday Papa!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS4-IHYfrezf44oer3ejJ1g-UJ4PXit8gyvYUsN2i1kpkZ1JSWxk93C0ZRSgYrEGarzRSZwQ7-1jSJf1ARZsp7a9iplZLbeY_MuOC8glJDtr1qSTF5p2yDKuFcgc8LBcUHazxlSQq8TZPa/s1600/mlwithpapa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS4-IHYfrezf44oer3ejJ1g-UJ4PXit8gyvYUsN2i1kpkZ1JSWxk93C0ZRSgYrEGarzRSZwQ7-1jSJf1ARZsp7a9iplZLbeY_MuOC8glJDtr1qSTF5p2yDKuFcgc8LBcUHazxlSQq8TZPa/s1600/mlwithpapa.jpg" /></a></div>
Today is my Papa's birthday. September 14th is a special day of the year for me. My Papa crossed over to the spirit world when I was 4 years old (Dec. 20, 1968). For so long it was a pain so deep, a void so deep I found every possible way to numb the pain ... to fill the hole and emptiness ... addictive behavior and avoidance became my survival strategies. Now, 50 years later, a life time of experiences that have been both incredibly painful and also incredibly beautiful and transformative, I am now at a very different place. I believe God/Creator called my Papa because it was his time. I believe he was needed elsewhere in the universe. It's not my place to question. There are many things in this life time I will not be able to make sense of ...<br />
<br />
50 years ago my Papa's spirit left his body. What I imagine now is his spirit leaving in this most amazing and beautiful light .... this expansive veil of light that reaches out beyond the north star and galaxies that defy what my brain can even comprehend ... and his spirit sprinkles star dust all around me, and in me. I don't feel his presence at first. All I feel is emptiness. Yet he stays with me, watches over me, protects me ... I flail and I fumble. And at the age of 20 when I attempt to take my own life, he plucks me out of the water ...when by all logical and practical explanation, I should have died ... miraculously, someone, some being, some higher power pulled me out of the water after I had lost consciousness. I know it was my Papa. I imagine him saying to me, "it's not your time yet baby".<br />
<br />
For many years, I called that moment 'my bottom'. It was an uphill climb through terrain that challenged me on so many levels. It was a journey that required facing my darkest shadows and wounds and scars I desperately wanted to forget and bury at the bottom of the ocean floor. This year, in just a couple weeks, I celebrate 30 years of sobriety ... 30 years since my last drink; 30 years since I made the choice to numb my pain with alcohol. Now I look back at that moment, as the moment of awakening as a caterpillar .... of shedding skin, of becoming a chrysalis, of resting and allowing the time needed for the various parts of myself to heal and to transform, and then when I was finally ready, to emerge and break through the protective case of the cocoon ... a butterfly. And this healing journey has been one of exploring different landscapes, both inner and outer; of stumbling, making mistakes, honoring the wounds and scars that have made me who I am today, celebrating reaching various summits of mountains I never imagined I could reach ... of listening to my Papa; of learning to still my mind and be with myself through meditation and a deeper connection to the spirit world. He was gracious and sent me a 4-legged beautiful being, my first dog, Splat, who is the reason I am now able to say, on October 1, 2018 I will be celebrating 30 years of sobriety. She saved my life. And then my Papa continued to send me more beautiful 4 legged beings ... Shadow, Shen, Mister, Missy, Legacy, Ahnung, Ishkode .... all have been, and continue to be, essential in my healing.<br />
<br />
Miigwech Papa. Miigwech for watching over me. I celebrate You today. I celebrate your birthday. I celebrate and feel and embrace the veil of star dust you sprinkled over me when I was 4 years old.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6nB1nTHt2ybG09RFWogX3whGd5fREFPUcIwEyTJl_ns9eJ6Xe2MvCHxr07dwRedqDQtsCHPbSaIVzOSQcxOU2TQNm5Jathwxc6WjhfzQlz69QTVrxbLWS-ej4fMg_nNNN4H8lgZ0DRGpR/s1600/DSC_7876.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="848" data-original-width="1280" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6nB1nTHt2ybG09RFWogX3whGd5fREFPUcIwEyTJl_ns9eJ6Xe2MvCHxr07dwRedqDQtsCHPbSaIVzOSQcxOU2TQNm5Jathwxc6WjhfzQlz69QTVrxbLWS-ej4fMg_nNNN4H8lgZ0DRGpR/s320/DSC_7876.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjBOMFkGY00cXEE5U17vUROb68Kgm_H9Orgj7zG8YdmoQmJ0h35krAB1zmEk5rpPGG2nSzo2lniaUYPjdDj01IioEB-yJfmgCndtygno85r3kcycTdHaHrdzbDGp1gWH87N9tVKLDxqRE3/s1600/galaxy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="491" data-original-width="500" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjBOMFkGY00cXEE5U17vUROb68Kgm_H9Orgj7zG8YdmoQmJ0h35krAB1zmEk5rpPGG2nSzo2lniaUYPjdDj01IioEB-yJfmgCndtygno85r3kcycTdHaHrdzbDGp1gWH87N9tVKLDxqRE3/s320/galaxy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />Marilouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04754311331904306582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3428667705081488214.post-23903637691555946702018-08-12T08:27:00.000-05:002018-08-12T08:27:10.602-05:00Mister appears in my dream ... <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfnaBFeUD6xn3gAtcR6HpMb0x9Ur6ic_g0m8X9SfG7TJJkzj1vHXBHG4s4-2jPtDcMaQbC7psfWs8iF0QfILTZDn6jq5X2hggNUnSFBVQp_LlVnT8fMhuDL3CUKV1bxWj9wgLTKE626Z66/s1600/Mister+splashy+swimmer+2008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="332" data-original-width="499" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfnaBFeUD6xn3gAtcR6HpMb0x9Ur6ic_g0m8X9SfG7TJJkzj1vHXBHG4s4-2jPtDcMaQbC7psfWs8iF0QfILTZDn6jq5X2hggNUnSFBVQp_LlVnT8fMhuDL3CUKV1bxWj9wgLTKE626Z66/s320/Mister+splashy+swimmer+2008.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
The pups (Missy, Ishka, Legacy) woke me up at 4 this morning. I let them out and decided to go back to sleep. It's Sunday after all.<br />
<br />
I have completed my morning practice of meditation, centering and journaling. I have written in detail as much as I remember of my dream that is still so vivid, so real ... I was touching and holding Mister in my dream who appeared in what I call Act III of my dream. I was in the midst of holding and touching Mister when Ishka woke me up at 5:45 with her 'talking' :).<br />
<br />
The past couple weeks have been incredibly full and busy for me. There have been changes for me in my work life .. a new leader of our group and a renewed fire and passion as I realize the possibility of bringing together my work life and all I do in my 'free' time, my volunteer time and my work with non-profits, social justice, indigenous communities, animal welfare and the intersection of humans and animals, somatics and my coaching practice ... as the demands on my time have increased I have had to very intentionally create space to continue my practices and care of myself .... working from home, it would be easy to get consumed with work ... but I have the gift of my pups (Missy, Legacy and Ishka) reminding me to take a break from work and go for a walk. It is a precious gift. My commitment to my daily morning practices of meditation, centering and journaling regardless of how busy life gets and the demands placed on me, allow me to notice subtle changes in my being ... and then I have the gift of practicing taiko, learning fue (japanese flute) and playing the piano to get me outside of my head and to immerse myself in awe and beauty and sensations, in the same way my pups invite me to get out of my head ...<br />
<br />
So the dream early this morning was an incredible gift to me ... messages sprinkled in the scenes/acts of my dream ... a connection with the spirit world ...i will share pieces of it as there is so much I remember and feel ... too much for a blog post ...<br />
<br />
<i>Act I: </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I am in the lower level of the house. In the bedroom. There are others in the room I sense but the strongest presence I feel and also see is a young white male. We jump to another scene intermittently. A room of indigenous and POCs, mostly women. A community gathering. Wanting to organize at a community level to create change for their community. I have been invited to join the community gathering. Shift back to the bedroom. Those in the room are concerned about me taking on too much. I need to say 'no' to this request to join the community gathering. I am representing an organization, a non-profit, and I am taking on too much so i need to say no. In my dream, my gut says no. This is important. I want to be a part of this community gathering, as myself, not as a part of some organization. This young white male is strongly encouraging me to say no .. he says it in a kind, caring way. Then a young woman of color enters the room. She is wearing a headscarf. She is there to understand all I am doing and to help me find balance. She is there to listen and learn. She invites me to join her.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Act II:</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I walk from the bedroom and am now standing over a sink of what looks like the home we had in Missouri. I feel the presence of my mother in the house. I had been wearing my mouth guard while I was in the bedroom. I wasn't even aware I had had my mouth guard on. I remove my mouth guard at the sink and rinse it out. Wow ... I notice how different it feels. The young woman with a headscarf invites me to follow her.</i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQgALcHfSWuPmOHj-r_8eEoOc9EpE7fM0at9LHoOuFqC_8gYTFfFYZDp4ChEdu0nLhHqtiPD2ZvR1vmu1ApX804_TVtIv80G8dI_EBZyoXJhqBURmUZJFgQa8LG1289qHDF9EbUjWn0lke/s1600/Mister+water+boy+2009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><i><img border="0" data-original-height="402" data-original-width="604" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQgALcHfSWuPmOHj-r_8eEoOc9EpE7fM0at9LHoOuFqC_8gYTFfFYZDp4ChEdu0nLhHqtiPD2ZvR1vmu1ApX804_TVtIv80G8dI_EBZyoXJhqBURmUZJFgQa8LG1289qHDF9EbUjWn0lke/s320/Mister+water+boy+2009.jpg" width="320" /></i></a></div>
<br />
<i>Act III:</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>We are outside standing by this small body of water. The setup is similar to a polar bear exhibit at a zoo. Big rocks along the side with a body of water .. in this case it is not confined or caged. Ishka is with me in the dream. She doesn't like to swim so she is exploring the large rocks on the other side while this young woman of color asks me questions wanting to understand more about all I am doing in my life ... as I share the intersections and themes become very clear ... connecting communities, building bridges .. and she asks me about my practices, my support system ... and as I am sharing about how I my practices, my connections I notice two hound mix dogs swimming underwater towards us. Bliss. Joy. Where did they come from? I realize this small body of water is connected to something much larger. Then I see a large black dog swimming ... a black pyranees type dog .. his big head above the water and he swims towards us. The next to him is another black dog .. a flat-coated retriever type mix who looks just like Mister. I stop talking to this young woman ... my eyes fixated now on this dog that looks just like Mister. "It can't be!! Is this real? Is this Mister. No, he's dead". This black dog continues to swim towards us and the edge. He jumps out of the water. He comes towards me ... wet black dog filled with so much joy. He is wearing a collar. As he gets closer to me I see a green looney tunes tag .. the names "Legacy" and "Mister" are on it ... then the name Shadow also appears (note: Shadow was a black dog I had who crossed over into the spirit world in 2007 .. Mister joined our family shortly after Shadow died). In my dream I am like this can't be real. Am I really seeing Mister. I am holding him, touching him. I asked the young woman who is with me, "can you see him too?" I ask her to read the name on the tag. I want her to confirm for me that this is real, and that this really is Mister, that I am not imagining it. She nods and confirms, this is real. And in the distance on the rocks where Ishka had been exploring, it is now the energy of Ahnung (who also didn't like to swim). I am holding Mister and just feeling him. I feel his heart beat ... and in the background I see other dogs swimming; the joy . the bliss. </i><br />
<br />
Then I wake up to Ishka talking.<br />
<br />
The messages from this dream are powerful. They leave with me many questions/ponderings I sit with ...<br />
<br />
- the importance of listening to my gut, my intuition ... of work in social justice and how privilege can be disguised in the best of intentions<br />
- of how our voice can be stifled, and we aren't even aware of it<br />
- of my role and work in social justice<br />
- of the bridge with the spirit world .. the messages, the signs ...<br />
<br />
I cherish the gift of experiencing the place where those of us in the spirit world and those of us still here on earth can come together. I commit to allowing the wisdom and messages from the spirit world to emerge ... and the space and the time, to come to life.<br />
<br />
Miigwech Mister ... miigwech Ahnung .... miigwech Shadow ...<br />
<br />
and miigwech to all my teachers, 2-legged and 4-legged ...<br />
<br />
and Mister, thank you for letting me know you are happy and you are with us.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguphNufWjNy5iYBXvrukzHVlIHOgPQDjMduhXK99gig0F9xmALMVLmRqc0CfN07IUxvrLdtDmYkhjelzSJgg7byrxTzuyAx484xZEpt3AJ3zIiMc5SbWFPnemU6utgkcAX1DgUPTAQ2lw5/s1600/Mister+2009+wet+dog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="402" data-original-width="604" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguphNufWjNy5iYBXvrukzHVlIHOgPQDjMduhXK99gig0F9xmALMVLmRqc0CfN07IUxvrLdtDmYkhjelzSJgg7byrxTzuyAx484xZEpt3AJ3zIiMc5SbWFPnemU6utgkcAX1DgUPTAQ2lw5/s320/Mister+2009+wet+dog.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Marilouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04754311331904306582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3428667705081488214.post-19404269482119823292018-07-06T07:07:00.000-05:002018-07-06T07:13:15.566-05:00The beat goes on ... the story of my drum <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6JaSrlYpkeqsl-RXeJt6h9y532VCDsKkp-jiasl8FYjdHx7BQexwa5zr581NJBAz5LRPTZyPGAEi9irQOrGtvX42UP0jl0_gMi3e7kB92wZ94eyxsbbE8U288fXYAdAajjudOkgLW9h4j/s1600/image001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6JaSrlYpkeqsl-RXeJt6h9y532VCDsKkp-jiasl8FYjdHx7BQexwa5zr581NJBAz5LRPTZyPGAEi9irQOrGtvX42UP0jl0_gMi3e7kB92wZ94eyxsbbE8U288fXYAdAajjudOkgLW9h4j/s320/image001.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
I got an update from Steve of <a href="https://www.mntaiko.com/" target="_blank">MN Taiko</a>, maker of my taiko drum:<br />
<br />
"The start of your drum story:<br />
<br />
The barrel was from the T.W. Boswell Cooperage. They have locations in Napa California and in France. Your barrel came from the French cooperage. I am not sure what winery in the US imported the barrel. I buy them from a local guy who buys used barrels by the truckload. The pictures show the top of the barrel with the cooperage identification. It is from the Cote D' Or Appellation series which means it is certified French oak. I take the hoops off and recut all the staves to make a smaller barrel. One of the pictures shows the newly cut down barrel sitting beside a full size barrel. I have glued all the staves together and am waiting for the glue to cure before I begin sanding the drum. That should happen next week ..."<br />
<br />
Steve is right .... this is the start of my drum story ... the changing of an old narrative and story that has previously come with tremendous pain and grief ... the memories of Christmas 1968 in St. Louis, Missouri at Barnes Hospital ... I was 4 years old and spending my days at the hospital with my Papa and remembering the song, Little Drummers Boy playing over and over again ....<br />
<br />
....<br />
<br />
I have no gift to bring<br />
Pa rum pum pum pum<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
Shall I play for you<br />
Pa rum pum pum pum<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
I played my drum for him<br />
Pa rum pum pum pum<br />
I played my best for him<br />
Pa rum pum pum pum,<br />
Rum pum pum pum,<br />
Rum pum pum pum<br />
Then he smiled at me<br />
Pa rum pum pum pum<br />
Me and my drum<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
Papa, I play my drum for you.<br />
I play my drum for the 4 year old you have watched over ..<br />
<br />
I play because the beat of the taiko drum is the beat of my heart, your heart, our hearts. Alive. Forever connected ....<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS4-IHYfrezf44oer3ejJ1g-UJ4PXit8gyvYUsN2i1kpkZ1JSWxk93C0ZRSgYrEGarzRSZwQ7-1jSJf1ARZsp7a9iplZLbeY_MuOC8glJDtr1qSTF5p2yDKuFcgc8LBcUHazxlSQq8TZPa/s1600/mlwithpapa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS4-IHYfrezf44oer3ejJ1g-UJ4PXit8gyvYUsN2i1kpkZ1JSWxk93C0ZRSgYrEGarzRSZwQ7-1jSJf1ARZsp7a9iplZLbeY_MuOC8glJDtr1qSTF5p2yDKuFcgc8LBcUHazxlSQq8TZPa/s1600/mlwithpapa.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7qbVo1TenDth6v55EznVDWmoWv9ZbeWW1bYyZOQIhSDtiH4m5i7ifDzrguuX04A7hJCLLRscgiD-Y_k6fq01foLWmuDlt4-H_cxV9Xpt-485v39lkdugpiAE9cFOWYdeAkrdgsUoJ-kTy/s1600/image002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7qbVo1TenDth6v55EznVDWmoWv9ZbeWW1bYyZOQIhSDtiH4m5i7ifDzrguuX04A7hJCLLRscgiD-Y_k6fq01foLWmuDlt4-H_cxV9Xpt-485v39lkdugpiAE9cFOWYdeAkrdgsUoJ-kTy/s320/image002.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4h5sz2PenGbQrhJAcDlCzd-WzkSvWTwyUYyyGLdJCrLd1eU9LPF7SM38KkeIoX3FHgdx_V41j7gpQgeSJw9VgmbSlZscI8CP7cGllBkWidc9AvrW4Uzt_IrN4Mli3bg0CSMKQ4Z7-xrvq/s1600/image003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4h5sz2PenGbQrhJAcDlCzd-WzkSvWTwyUYyyGLdJCrLd1eU9LPF7SM38KkeIoX3FHgdx_V41j7gpQgeSJw9VgmbSlZscI8CP7cGllBkWidc9AvrW4Uzt_IrN4Mli3bg0CSMKQ4Z7-xrvq/s320/image003.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcQCAIKiYVQT72BTpKF7XduBTghdvgfCYK3t5a6PysSW-b0HYNBFOeXVmsfpEbXrEaT8WenJRWn16dppXJfKKYU77qyjldLiNmmXXRb0SSfIAtKfLjFlEBwDkv7vqsV_mL5iJ38q__59HV/s1600/image004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcQCAIKiYVQT72BTpKF7XduBTghdvgfCYK3t5a6PysSW-b0HYNBFOeXVmsfpEbXrEaT8WenJRWn16dppXJfKKYU77qyjldLiNmmXXRb0SSfIAtKfLjFlEBwDkv7vqsV_mL5iJ38q__59HV/s320/image004.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />Marilouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04754311331904306582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3428667705081488214.post-31807849765552337052018-06-21T06:00:00.000-05:002018-06-21T06:00:11.096-05:00Piano ... memories .....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8FvkmYVX3FupiMBkEY0eFc15El-l_kEO6U_ykMdfBnotnL3p2m7bi_jOJSlK78_TpTnpILuooyuv1ACkwGPtufXueZUIzAzp-w7CPW_qDtN14lvOkZezlpjiQLA-5zdclEX9-vikTlDMY/s1600/received_1966514313360847.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8FvkmYVX3FupiMBkEY0eFc15El-l_kEO6U_ykMdfBnotnL3p2m7bi_jOJSlK78_TpTnpILuooyuv1ACkwGPtufXueZUIzAzp-w7CPW_qDtN14lvOkZezlpjiQLA-5zdclEX9-vikTlDMY/s320/received_1966514313360847.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #1d2129;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">At the age of 6 my mother signed me (and my siblings) up for piano lessons. I remember our British piano teacher very well ... Mrs. Pines. If I didn't practice she would smack my hand and in her British accent, state firmly, 'rubbish!' ... my childhood was consumed with school, swimming training, practicing piano, and studying .. I don't remember playing much ... I continued to play the piano ... scales, appregios, and playing in recitals ... my mother told me one day she hoped I would be a concert pianist one day ... as a young kid I'm not sure if I played the piano because it made my mother happy or because I wanted to; I got a full scholarship in my first year of college, a presidential scholarship to study with Ruth Slencynzka, a concert pianist in resident at SIU - Edwardsville; she was preparing me for Juillard ... 7 days a week I would practice the piano 7-8 hours day; i was 17 years old, a freshman in college ... i didn't know what I wanted; I hated performing in public and to be honest, I think the stress of adjusting to the U.S., of assimilating into white America, of so much unraveling for a teenager in a world so foreign to her made me up and quit after a year ... I transferred to Washington University where my sister was and majored in Psychology; yup, probably to try to make sense of what was going on with me ... i never really played the piano since 1981 ... my mother bought and upright Steinway which I always loved and would occasionally play it. For the past 10+ years this beautiful piano has been 'living' with my sister in Michigan. My sister asked me not too long ago if I wanted the piano. I immediately said YES!!! Something has been calling me back to music .... yes, even to classical piano .... to the Beethoven sonatas, Bach preludes, scales, appreggios, Chopin waltzes and etudes. </span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivalBmiU9elWRfwJaQt-eCyTAsm0SH0L0n7MAIy4U5OJA7iduduinYRQ2PR6FXtdKnYF1OhIPbXKYdbIUuPZtDjeGywmHI8RpnjNMXtEzToa7jS7mwrAmZjqH_1rRXB-nIAyzvamUb_E5K/s1600/received_1966501586695453.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="894" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivalBmiU9elWRfwJaQt-eCyTAsm0SH0L0n7MAIy4U5OJA7iduduinYRQ2PR6FXtdKnYF1OhIPbXKYdbIUuPZtDjeGywmHI8RpnjNMXtEzToa7jS7mwrAmZjqH_1rRXB-nIAyzvamUb_E5K/s320/received_1966501586695453.jpeg" width="178" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #1d2129;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #1d2129;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #1d2129;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">Tomorrow this beautiful Steinway is getting picked up at my sister' home and will be making its way to Minnesota. In 3-4 weeks it will arrive in its new home in Bloomington, MN. I asked my sister to snap some photos for me tonight, and the pile of books she is stashing in the piano bench. Memories are coming to life ... sweet memories actually ... and with the Steinway upright I will also have my mother's spirit in our home. It's been decades since I have really played. I am no concert pianist but I will play for my Mama and my Papa ... and then when my taiko drum arrives, I will throw some drumming in for them too :) ... i also pulled my classical guitar out of the closet, got it tuned and have been practicing every day ... some day i hope to learn some flamenco guitar and who knows I could have an entire concert for Mama and Papa ....</span></span><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJqvAOqKRl0l4XH6sXC43wkeQM4L-9M1imrGh9iZ9KeOhWawuZEftCFlstY7AIII00Sw6N29QKRHCiprx5VlMEVBfR5C8RrBoi_x_lr7d82EUf_4uiXnzd9IxtRqGBRxqfnf99QfJNSNwD/s1600/received_1966517626693849.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJqvAOqKRl0l4XH6sXC43wkeQM4L-9M1imrGh9iZ9KeOhWawuZEftCFlstY7AIII00Sw6N29QKRHCiprx5VlMEVBfR5C8RrBoi_x_lr7d82EUf_4uiXnzd9IxtRqGBRxqfnf99QfJNSNwD/s320/received_1966517626693849.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Marilouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04754311331904306582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3428667705081488214.post-84053836765429856492018-06-08T07:06:00.000-05:002018-06-08T07:06:04.067-05:00Our life's journey ... Do we choose our paths?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWHkJS6dCU2imd4r1OSq-gM2yzNuJrB9bS-eygAEI9Zg-CBiP_QUch2-hItdjectZP8zwOJKA3rt4byLGcc1RoSKnmjNR6Uqwc5hgPp1GaQDgMTFD_f1lcMmRsWKNex_n7F_ohasuO6RGB/s1600/DSC_6787.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1060" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWHkJS6dCU2imd4r1OSq-gM2yzNuJrB9bS-eygAEI9Zg-CBiP_QUch2-hItdjectZP8zwOJKA3rt4byLGcc1RoSKnmjNR6Uqwc5hgPp1GaQDgMTFD_f1lcMmRsWKNex_n7F_ohasuO6RGB/s320/DSC_6787.jpg" width="211" /></a></div>
Over the past few days I have found myself remembering childhood memories that have been tucked away somewhere in my brain .... a childhood friend from Thailand recently shared a photo from my swimming days as a young kid. That photo opened up memories for me that had been laying dormant .... I started swimming when I was 6 years old. My mother signed us up for swimming lessons. I remember feeling fearful of the water, this BIG pool (it was an Olympic size swimming pool, and to a 6 year old that was terrifying). We were given foam kick boards to hang onto and I remember hanging onto the side of the swimming pool with my kick board. We were asked to hold onto the kick board and flutter kick the width of the swimming pool. I remember seeing everyone else take off, splashing and kicking ... flutter kicks. How were they not terrified?<br />
<br />
Then somehow I just took off. Maybe I didn't want to be the only one left on the one side of the swimming pool. Uncovering childhood memories for me is like my dream world ... patchy, and often no sense of time or even space. Images pop up. Felt sensations. Non-sequential. No logic.<br />
<br />
A walk down memory lane is not a straight path on paved roads ... it's like a hike through the forest ... sometimes it begins with trails, and then we venture off the marked trails .... and though I might feel like I don't know where the unmarked path leads, I often get this sense of familiarity, of having been here before, of having experienced this sensation before, or heard this sounds, or noticed this scent.<br />
<br />
This morning I found myself reflecting on my life's journey. As decades pass I realize more and more how much I don't really have control over the paths I take .... okay, maybe a little. I think I realize I can strive for something ... have a north star that guides me, if you will ... my Ahnung ... yet trust and allow myself to rest in the uncertainty and the unknowing and to allow myself to simply experience life and to be curious. Life for me is holding a vision while at the same time, not holding; it's about holding and letting go at the same time; about embracing endings and death so I can live fully; it's about seeing without sight; about hearing without sound; about touching without physical contact; it's about communicating without sound.<br />
<br />
My Papa knew I needed a 4-legged furry being to help me heal ... he has sent me many, many beautiful 4-legged beings ... Splat, Shen, Shadow, Mister, Missy, Ahnung, Legacy, Ishkode .... they continue to guide and teach me, some from the spirit world, and some still here with me on this Earth. The other day, I went for a hike with my Ishkode (means 'fire' in ojibwe) along the same trails I used to walk with my beloved Ahnung in her final months with me on earth .... I have walked pass this bench many, many times and for some reason, never read the inscription on the bench. The other day, somehow, my Ishka tugged on the leash and led me to the bench. I smiled when I read the words, 'Hello Beautiful" ..... yes, Ishka, you are beautiful, and you (and your siblings) are my best medicine, my guide/teacher, my reminder to live fully, to play, to explore and be curious .... thank you for helping me to notice paths I may not otherwise notice ...<br />
<br />
May we open up to teachers and guides in many different forms ...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiVgsiP7a5Z5T1r8Op74aMDqqwNGdhVhWGW63QOktJOAvrdbDXpJXhtVZ-glLaGC48eOwURSdjPU_Gg8-flQbn-52GjWAZ0dO_HNhAl5p9PV-IimTdnB0XTum2Y0KhR6hGVZ0f5gTgcDIf/s1600/Ishka+Hello+Beautiful.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1072" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiVgsiP7a5Z5T1r8Op74aMDqqwNGdhVhWGW63QOktJOAvrdbDXpJXhtVZ-glLaGC48eOwURSdjPU_Gg8-flQbn-52GjWAZ0dO_HNhAl5p9PV-IimTdnB0XTum2Y0KhR6hGVZ0f5gTgcDIf/s320/Ishka+Hello+Beautiful.jpg" width="238" /></a></div>
<br />Marilouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04754311331904306582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3428667705081488214.post-71650998311579293492018-06-05T09:54:00.002-05:002018-06-05T09:54:50.683-05:00Memories<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsgpBXR9_sXNXkL4bFPtYdj7n25sflH8VwCBdzaMSOVQBhGcqvApTtim659dxW_G7IdhSqZ2Eojt4BDjBFr9p3jDcQpoDNXrcmWzLbYhL2_HOcg6e2WVaoONwzHgHjZG-rdU8BChTdXsnX/s1600/baby+ML+apple+orchard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1019" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsgpBXR9_sXNXkL4bFPtYdj7n25sflH8VwCBdzaMSOVQBhGcqvApTtim659dxW_G7IdhSqZ2Eojt4BDjBFr9p3jDcQpoDNXrcmWzLbYhL2_HOcg6e2WVaoONwzHgHjZG-rdU8BChTdXsnX/s320/baby+ML+apple+orchard.jpg" width="203" /></a></div>
Last month my story, <a href="http://caalmn.org/the-ahnung-way/" target="_blank">The Ahnung Way</a>, was one of 31 stories featured by the Coalition of Asian American Leaders as a part of the Minnesota Asian Stories campaign to celebrate Asian/Pacific Heritage month.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://caalmn.org/the-ahnung-way/">http://caalmn.org/the-ahnung-way/</a><br />
<br />
It has inspired me to share more stories and reflections ...<br />
<br />
Merriam-Webster defines 'memories' as 'the power or process of reproducing or recalling what has been learned and retained especially through associative mechanisms' ... I have been reflecting on early childhood memories. I know my memories, my experiences, the felt senses of all that happened to me as a young child are all there ... but where is 'there'? in my brain? in the gray matter? in spirit? in landscape? I know this photo of me was taken at an apple orchard somewhere close to Alton, Illinois. I believe it was in 1968 when our family traveled around 8,700 miles from Bangkok, Thailand to bring my Papa to the United States. I had just turned 4. My Papa was dying, and my mother was desperate to try anything to save my Papa. I learned growing up how my parents believed in the educational system 'abroad' ... the United States, London, Australia. They wanted their children to be 'educated' not in Thailand, but in America, or London or Australia. I wonder if their belief in the education system being 'better' abroad was based on stories they heard, messages from 'abroad' ... or was it from personal experience? My mother was born and raised in the Philippines. She spoke tagalog (the language in the Philippines) and English fluently; and yes, a fair amount of Spanish. My Papa was born and raised in Thailand; my grandparents on my Papa's side were Chinese; they came from mainland China. He spoke Thai and English fluently; i believe he also spoke Chinese. The only common language my parents had was English.<br />
<br />
At the age of 53 I find myself longing to have the opportunity to sit down and have conversations with my Papa and Mama … and my grandparents. My memories are sketchy. I have stories and narratives from my childhood, pieced together by sporadic memories. I feel a deep sadness for not knowing how to speak the many languages my parents spoke. They spoke English in the house. After Papa died in St. Louis, MO when I was 4, and we returned to Bangkok, Mama enrolled us in a British School, Bangkok Patana School. I know my mother only wanted the best for us. I can't help but wonder, what would my life be like if I had grown up in a Thai school, speaking the language of my home country? I feel a deep connection to the wisdom of our communities, our ancestors and elders, our tradition. Yes, I have gone through the U.S. educational system and have a graduate degree; yet what matters to me is not that I have a higher education degree; what matters to me are the stories and narrative and experiences I carry with me, and in me, through my lived experience, and the collective lived experiences of my communities.<br />
<br />
At 53 I find myself being drawn back to my roots, to my origin … to my country and a culture, language, landscape, spirit that … I know who I am is very much connected to my roots, community, culture, landscape, language. I am amazed and in awe of the wisdom of our bodies and our being; at how we adapt and transform to survive. I arrived in the U.S. when I was 16 from Thailand. The complexities and trauma I buried deep inside of me began to unravel when I arrived in a foreign country where I stood out. I was a brown skin. I began to apologize for being brown. I chose assimilation to a white culture in order to survive.<br />
<br />
And now, I long to re-discover who I am; to unlearn and let go of survival strategies I took on at the age of 16; to remove the <i>I am not brown mask</i> I have been wearing for decades … this mask has been pressing deep into my skin, cutting into my flesh, peeling back scabs of old wounds and creating new wounds.<br />
<br />
Today, I set my mask down. I thank my mask for its service. It has served me well. This mask no longer serves me as I step forward into a new path.<br />
<br />
Today, I declare, with dignity …<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i>I am a commitment to Being Brown without apology.</i></b></div>
<br />
<br />Marilouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04754311331904306582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3428667705081488214.post-9276310379326963582018-06-03T06:12:00.000-05:002018-06-03T06:12:38.478-05:00An intentional pause<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy4gknTusFkgL7TzxzywS9kTzCLZFHsSSsLmqdrca_VDYa9DUmminrkUF1muvGKnpNNCijLmT-tYl3tx1MpCFxPtYqUI3ZxQdUhBdgIFEJP9CcWMvUIxLiokAGexgHEVRrekBzIrfuB7_F/s1600/mornings_cabin_treereflection.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1064" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy4gknTusFkgL7TzxzywS9kTzCLZFHsSSsLmqdrca_VDYa9DUmminrkUF1muvGKnpNNCijLmT-tYl3tx1MpCFxPtYqUI3ZxQdUhBdgIFEJP9CcWMvUIxLiokAGexgHEVRrekBzIrfuB7_F/s320/mornings_cabin_treereflection.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
It's been a while since I wrote for my blog. An intentional pause. I have continued to write; to journal ... simply choosing to allow my new shape the space and the freedom to explore a new way of being in the world ... allowing the creation of something new to emerge in the sacred quiet of a more private landscape. The poet David Whyte beautifully articulates my intentional pause from blogging ..<br />
<br />
"<i>We live in a time of the dissected soul, the immediate disclosure; our thoughts, imaginings and longings exposed to the light too much, too early and too often, our best qualities squeezed too soon into a world already awash with too easily articulated ideas that oppress our sense of self and our sense of others. What is real is almost always to begin with, hidden, and does not want to be understood by the part of our mind that mistakenly thinks it knows what is happening. What is precious inside us does not care to be known by the mind in ways that diminish its presence </i>..."<br />
<br />
I have been on an amazing journey ... an adventure, actually, of really getting to know myself, getting to know the wisdom of my body ... i began a journey of seeing and experiencing the world with an enhanced set of lens, an embodied set of lens. Wow ... it is like I see the world now in so many more colors; in so many more dimensions ... I have learned to embrace and welcome, in a new way, in a felt sense way, shifts and changes in my being as I reach and I am my most alive self.<br />
<br />
This morning in meditation I feel it is time now to surface and emerge. How do I put into words, however, experiences where words can't suffice? For now, all I know are some words that speak to me and guide me ... I invite you to reflect and see what opens up for you with the following ... I invite you to the rising of The Ahnung Way. Ahnung has been, and will continue to be, my north star.<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">S</span></b>pirit</li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">T</span></b>ruth</li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">A</span></b>liveness</li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">R</span></b>esilience</li>
</ul>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Gh2keYCznIJ96rQyfYhk0TgUlCN1EjF7R7tap1iOBHB9vCPjFOcxWiMcY_QzQIWQXMYzgCpZf628X-XlH6cgK2zI46foMLdK9G2UJbFFACU1OQmv2jl5CfbuZcdeAPr40h_KItG7AxOH/s1600/Ahnung+Way+logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="724" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Gh2keYCznIJ96rQyfYhk0TgUlCN1EjF7R7tap1iOBHB9vCPjFOcxWiMcY_QzQIWQXMYzgCpZf628X-XlH6cgK2zI46foMLdK9G2UJbFFACU1OQmv2jl5CfbuZcdeAPr40h_KItG7AxOH/s320/Ahnung+Way+logo.jpg" width="301" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfTDJqEJpBNJ7BHFSEgu25iVvz6-5xv1roCItVxC5tDGuBiBKFSNSl5JpSyVN5JyIydPqhDMOJSPMUeATqGkeJE8eVumLiUqksr6qFPIUzi9ld1E-ndd0XLg83yhnvkNOMkvpECbu4xW9b/s1600/ahnung5k9_2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1139" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfTDJqEJpBNJ7BHFSEgu25iVvz6-5xv1roCItVxC5tDGuBiBKFSNSl5JpSyVN5JyIydPqhDMOJSPMUeATqGkeJE8eVumLiUqksr6qFPIUzi9ld1E-ndd0XLg83yhnvkNOMkvpECbu4xW9b/s320/ahnung5k9_2010.jpg" width="227" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />Marilouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04754311331904306582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3428667705081488214.post-45575258460362854522017-12-14T06:22:00.004-06:002017-12-14T06:22:54.629-06:00A permeable shield ....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS4-IHYfrezf44oer3ejJ1g-UJ4PXit8gyvYUsN2i1kpkZ1JSWxk93C0ZRSgYrEGarzRSZwQ7-1jSJf1ARZsp7a9iplZLbeY_MuOC8glJDtr1qSTF5p2yDKuFcgc8LBcUHazxlSQq8TZPa/s1600/mlwithpapa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS4-IHYfrezf44oer3ejJ1g-UJ4PXit8gyvYUsN2i1kpkZ1JSWxk93C0ZRSgYrEGarzRSZwQ7-1jSJf1ARZsp7a9iplZLbeY_MuOC8glJDtr1qSTF5p2yDKuFcgc8LBcUHazxlSQq8TZPa/s1600/mlwithpapa.jpg" /></a></div>
I had just turned 4 when I experienced my first and deepest loss. The multiplicity and complexity of the stories that emerged after that defining moment shaped me, and unbeknownst to me, I began building and creating a shield to protect my heart. It became an impenetrable shield [super power strength, in fact :)] ... my Papa knew the way to reach his little girl, to chisel away at the shield, was through animals ... he has sent me so many angels in furry 4-legged bodies who have taught me, and continue to teach me, how to break open to a place inside myself which is unbreakable and whole.<br />
<br />
My Papa knew I needed a shield, but a different kind of shield ... a permeable shield held up around me by my beautiful angel dogs.<br />
<br />
Miigwech to my many teachers (Splat, Shen, Shadow, Ahnung, Mister, Piper, Missy, Ishkode, Legacy).<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>The Unbroken</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
~ Rashani Rea</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>There is brokenness </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>out of which comes the unbroken,</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>a shatteredness</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>out of which blooms the unshatterable.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>There is a sorrow</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>beyond all grief which leads to joy</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>and a fragility</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>out of whose depths emerges strength.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>There is a hollow space</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>too vast for words</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>through which we pass with each loss,</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>out of whose darkness</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>we are sanctioned into being.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>There is a cry deeper than all sound</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>where serrated edges cut the heart</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>as we break open to the place inside</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>which is unbreakable and whole,</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>while learning to sing.</i></div>
<i><br /></i>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdCp0NIXFLXUsxXa2obAidZQNG_mh7S5I9FIYfJWaFsXmXNdpMKuoTVXZG4gCP1CZseEEqu992kxj2JGCYQ4KDLo7Y06DcP22Vwt8uPR77ZuFL7GEFVl4Ov7hx0ltQMjyDAl0W8bvKYxE_/s1600/Pack+of+5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdCp0NIXFLXUsxXa2obAidZQNG_mh7S5I9FIYfJWaFsXmXNdpMKuoTVXZG4gCP1CZseEEqu992kxj2JGCYQ4KDLo7Y06DcP22Vwt8uPR77ZuFL7GEFVl4Ov7hx0ltQMjyDAl0W8bvKYxE_/s320/Pack+of+5.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwirHjK-rcjD4Y62bW29_kPL5FfAnpExOJX9S1QcDNZQe1I6XSme4EsUkEl8WOOt6hdWDgnzVVII4ObnlHiar1eIrpnS59Rp6XA_SC_fznTpl9hlblSpqkoDa18jXdsDbMrSw5rrjbXzrF/s1600/shen_onpatio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwirHjK-rcjD4Y62bW29_kPL5FfAnpExOJX9S1QcDNZQe1I6XSme4EsUkEl8WOOt6hdWDgnzVVII4ObnlHiar1eIrpnS59Rp6XA_SC_fznTpl9hlblSpqkoDa18jXdsDbMrSw5rrjbXzrF/s1600/shen_onpatio.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghaQr6s8LXAiu8OT7c3ee_zJRSrS1kOHBemlqRjZosWLkE2VS_l9_Z29oaOZHvgxONZ2Rq6gFmvTxRQChl3X24p_S50RbAOwW1UE1hoe5gxCdMIBM92YbRVwG1dBbIBub4_sInylzAfDkB/s1600/ahnungandme_pg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghaQr6s8LXAiu8OT7c3ee_zJRSrS1kOHBemlqRjZosWLkE2VS_l9_Z29oaOZHvgxONZ2Rq6gFmvTxRQChl3X24p_S50RbAOwW1UE1hoe5gxCdMIBM92YbRVwG1dBbIBub4_sInylzAfDkB/s320/ahnungandme_pg.jpg" width="256" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib85Yjs19Pwavbf2ON2F-kxNEbHw89OWKZuuo-V_M_Y6DSXXkyTYCD6vQPBEBl3KCPaXK_AMsjQxKQaEXhr-PBjFuEligwAGGl0sYEDpxbMgPFIgqM4sV2v8XDje8D0Gkx7X2SywosUGME/s1600/Missykissingme_PG.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1205" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib85Yjs19Pwavbf2ON2F-kxNEbHw89OWKZuuo-V_M_Y6DSXXkyTYCD6vQPBEBl3KCPaXK_AMsjQxKQaEXhr-PBjFuEligwAGGl0sYEDpxbMgPFIgqM4sV2v8XDje8D0Gkx7X2SywosUGME/s320/Missykissingme_PG.jpg" width="257" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAdDwRLSNLVFz9BG21l5BN7Ye-nC3f_hCJSZzVqayvUtbn6lEVmAINzi3482qwraSfbwA0ECHNjRWyML5J4L2Y0kDYU5PAY019my9UGXk2J5jNG8UDJoOW1vT1cJbU0txjJdX6e331z7Td/s1600/Furballs_mistertired_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="364" data-original-width="500" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAdDwRLSNLVFz9BG21l5BN7Ye-nC3f_hCJSZzVqayvUtbn6lEVmAINzi3482qwraSfbwA0ECHNjRWyML5J4L2Y0kDYU5PAY019my9UGXk2J5jNG8UDJoOW1vT1cJbU0txjJdX6e331z7Td/s320/Furballs_mistertired_2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuHSqHy_7SkDNhkI0HRHnk1YWZ5coJ5PfbvjJHjuRcC39-4bKpfDvvQ9WPYDkmC9Ht3-IJpLwXpHs2XR-GEApuY0EjWBwjh11xsAEoJ0PS8-HOmX7PXrh4sW55jMHNkicAWV2cqH9XQckn/s1600/mlsplatshen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="996" data-original-width="1452" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuHSqHy_7SkDNhkI0HRHnk1YWZ5coJ5PfbvjJHjuRcC39-4bKpfDvvQ9WPYDkmC9Ht3-IJpLwXpHs2XR-GEApuY0EjWBwjh11xsAEoJ0PS8-HOmX7PXrh4sW55jMHNkicAWV2cqH9XQckn/s320/mlsplatshen.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvqZ8huCGeLna6nTywYSzNS4CvcDoWrFg4YLmq2R4soCNwrCjUirSUDuabf4qOM3Wr_EvKCTsBrFIX69qK8XITlAa64w-Pjd0FPmv-YbK3TfDaN6wkcHD1G2QYEYMddp2oj_aluYx0M2am/s1600/shadow_jun07.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvqZ8huCGeLna6nTywYSzNS4CvcDoWrFg4YLmq2R4soCNwrCjUirSUDuabf4qOM3Wr_EvKCTsBrFIX69qK8XITlAa64w-Pjd0FPmv-YbK3TfDaN6wkcHD1G2QYEYMddp2oj_aluYx0M2am/s320/shadow_jun07.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEaaqV5EoqS3kzyMhHwAdyQTLrTd0eISJmZcWjxsozBlI3-yahWZIUof11soSWk9nlya-ze9C_KkEc-1aWaCQp36Sti7B1PZPIGqGtr-1sqRjJvvSKWoqslg0M58k_oB-LeC15IBIui-Mr/s1600/ahnung_ongrass_12apr2012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1064" data-original-width="1600" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEaaqV5EoqS3kzyMhHwAdyQTLrTd0eISJmZcWjxsozBlI3-yahWZIUof11soSWk9nlya-ze9C_KkEc-1aWaCQp36Sti7B1PZPIGqGtr-1sqRjJvvSKWoqslg0M58k_oB-LeC15IBIui-Mr/s320/ahnung_ongrass_12apr2012.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU8H3cqOeqqLDKUONa_ybffA60HMoSVG7J1_5lBk68cP7onar-ztdLie0DpYz9o7QE66xcQkU0mZji_AXqIAoT1CWdaTtaCCY4kk1eq7zH2B5tfyDZfDjKpZWLVjQ6SlaZ4uhBFC_pQ3Nj/s1600/shadowvan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="907" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU8H3cqOeqqLDKUONa_ybffA60HMoSVG7J1_5lBk68cP7onar-ztdLie0DpYz9o7QE66xcQkU0mZji_AXqIAoT1CWdaTtaCCY4kk1eq7zH2B5tfyDZfDjKpZWLVjQ6SlaZ4uhBFC_pQ3Nj/s320/shadowvan.jpg" width="211" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN9bdsj34J6a_GkXrGsEPsqGJYOKayQctZP25WPG7HibWjAnGq75unO_djQyP37wPrt448wjs800BXsWM59FCUNbeRUYtVPgZpURu3sXNYX2EI77IEIEkltU8UmFaKBD22cqFhs7Fl06KX/s1600/leapinMister.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1535" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN9bdsj34J6a_GkXrGsEPsqGJYOKayQctZP25WPG7HibWjAnGq75unO_djQyP37wPrt448wjs800BXsWM59FCUNbeRUYtVPgZpURu3sXNYX2EI77IEIEkltU8UmFaKBD22cqFhs7Fl06KX/s320/leapinMister.jpg" width="306" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6FDd9xu5kjnzDaz19lfLQUpQIuzRSDv3O8sCaKejgTCDPiwkuX1gwwanfe5iGeE_Ldv-wx4qUPWNlX7r67vRGKCycp_MWr5cTFi_-fj9ahjTSKSpyHg6rzsIaaYJo4mPqEF7Z89CaHtK0/s1600/mlandlegacy_2sep2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1064" data-original-width="1600" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6FDd9xu5kjnzDaz19lfLQUpQIuzRSDv3O8sCaKejgTCDPiwkuX1gwwanfe5iGeE_Ldv-wx4qUPWNlX7r67vRGKCycp_MWr5cTFi_-fj9ahjTSKSpyHg6rzsIaaYJo4mPqEF7Z89CaHtK0/s320/mlandlegacy_2sep2011.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>Marilouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04754311331904306582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3428667705081488214.post-16023167545156515092017-11-16T18:04:00.004-06:002017-11-16T18:04:54.305-06:00Mister visits in my dream -- go to the light, sweet boy!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQZ1dxYrdF12j-XcVGC4JrXWIRwmSrv-wOX7GN_zwhQPIC0G-kcjpjd6JIqhlwKl82tVEQBg3PYkBQ6UbDRfyCoUga1ctoVMEAU9DlPjrOBhtKojjyRKUEp2jouT7BUukd_uoA1SVy6Jqq/s1600/Mister+live+laugh+love.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQZ1dxYrdF12j-XcVGC4JrXWIRwmSrv-wOX7GN_zwhQPIC0G-kcjpjd6JIqhlwKl82tVEQBg3PYkBQ6UbDRfyCoUga1ctoVMEAU9DlPjrOBhtKojjyRKUEp2jouT7BUukd_uoA1SVy6Jqq/s320/Mister+live+laugh+love.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Mister came to visit me in my dreams again last night. We received the most beautiful card from my vet and his staff with a personal handwritten note from my vet:<br />
<br />
"<i>I am so sorry for the loss of Mister but want to let you know what an honor it was to work with you and Mister during this process. I can only hope that I can approach life like Mister did. He was such a beautiful example of how life should be embraced and it was so special to see how you embraced that with him and celebrated him through the end. He is in a better place now and thank you, as always, for giving me the privilege of knowing him. Luther</i>"<br />
<br />
In my dream we experienced his last moments on earth again. I can see him so clearly and still feel his fur against my skin. My vet and my partner Joannie were in my dream but it wasn't at his clinic. We were in a large open space, like a field. Mister's eyes still had so much life in him, and his tail was wagging. In my dream I said to Mister (as I did the night of Nov. 6th), "I promised to let you leave this earth with dignity" and through his eyes I could see absolute trust and love. It was like we both knew this wasn't goodbye. In my dream, I could see this beautiful light. I knew that was where Mister was going. And I said to him, "it's okay sweet boy, to go to the light. Your work is done." I could feel this light inside of him, and I could feel this light inside of me. It was as if we were one - a bridge connecting us eternally.<br />
Mister has touched the lives of so many. As my vet says, he was a beautiful example of how life should be embraced. Till the very end sweet boy, you did just that, and I honor and celebrate you, always.<br />
<br />
Thank you for visiting me again last night. Thank you for the image and sensations i now hold in my body of the peace you felt in those last moments as you went to the light.<br />
<br />
And a heartfelt thanks to my vet Luther (Dr. Luther Groth of Vet Partners Edina). It was an honor for us to walk with him on Mister's final ride!Marilouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04754311331904306582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3428667705081488214.post-37330733246833694762017-11-13T06:36:00.000-06:002017-11-13T06:36:04.385-06:00Little Drummer Boy ... dancing to a new beat<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWzIkMhWLy0Oc-xaDMkVdRbYfKbUVrFxSxs3mrnA15n7SSU82xPNFQ-AQh5SposBAgpxHE-TLCwaDNg4kTz4hTE3sRR9ZLSEtfBqXqIyXWSGsjW5hE4WdDHHq3D5pwLvU4En7ej4rxWY5C/s1600/ml+and+ahnung+2010+lauras.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="400" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWzIkMhWLy0Oc-xaDMkVdRbYfKbUVrFxSxs3mrnA15n7SSU82xPNFQ-AQh5SposBAgpxHE-TLCwaDNg4kTz4hTE3sRR9ZLSEtfBqXqIyXWSGsjW5hE4WdDHHq3D5pwLvU4En7ej4rxWY5C/s320/ml+and+ahnung+2010+lauras.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With my beloved Ahnung in 2010 at Laura's home</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Saturday night while at the Carrie Newcomer concert, and as I listened to her sing her song, Sanctuary, I realized I was listening with more than just my ears .. I was listening with my whole body and i returned to a sensory memory from 7 years ago. I had buried a memory from my childhood that was so painful (sexual abuse from a trusted family friend, a Catholic deacon at the time) and in the summer of 2008 while up in Ely, MN, for whatever reason the trauma reared and surfaced through nightmares and flashbacks. My journey to healing a childhood trauma began, at a different level. Little did I know that making that decision would then lead me, a year later, to choosing to end a long-term relationship that sent me into a deep, dark spiral. I soon found myself without a place to live as I fumbled, and crawled, my way through an incredibly painful transition. I returned to the memory last night in an entirely different way, of how my dear friend Laura Leonard was a sanctuary for me. Laura opened up her heart and her home for me (and Ahnung). While living with Laura and her son, I visited Missy and Mister every day in my old home while I searched to find a new home of my own. I landed in my current home in Bloomington, MN in January, 2011. As Carrie sang the lyrics, I also remembered memories of my Papa (Carrie is from Bloomington, Indiana where my Papa and Mama met and fell in love in the early 1960s).<br />
<br />
" ... Will you be my refuge<br />
My haven in the storm,<br />
Will you keep the embers warm<br />
When my fire's all but gone?<br />
Will you remember<br />
And bring me sprigs of rosemary,<br />
Be my sanctuary<br />
'Til I can carry on<br />
Carry on.<br />
Carry on.<br />
This one knocked me to the ground.<br />
This one dropped me to my knees.<br />
I should have seen it comin'<br />
But it surprised me ... "<br />
<br />
and this is from an old blog post (12/12/2010):<br />
<br />
" ... The Christmas season has always been hard for me. Bittersweet, one could say. Every time I hear the song 'Little Drummer Boy' I go back to the 3 months I spent as a 4 year old at Barnes hospital in St. Louis, Missouri with my mother visiting my father every day ... my mother praying desperately to God to save my father's life. As an adult i've never put a Christmas tree up. This year with the ending of a long-term relationship and some major health issues I find myself having to reach deep inside of myself to find strength, and to reach outwards to my friends and family and animals, and to God and my Papa to help pull me through a painful and uncertain time in my life ... it's like i'm walking on a thin sheet of ice ... days of crashing through and feeling like i'm going to drown while other days I feel like I will make it to solid ground.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieAPm8RRM_kREDhlpbywKYw0vSKRpicoKgRKIR0VyheoJkwmu3rToHdWfkFuKPCgt69_Af1f2k59gLkrxL-pUtw3bXWR5wOwCWgMVe9a3A4g2HIhyQKa3bW6EQD0BIBzQOXsrwgWE4DM-J/s1600/mldecoratingchristmastree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="213" data-original-width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieAPm8RRM_kREDhlpbywKYw0vSKRpicoKgRKIR0VyheoJkwmu3rToHdWfkFuKPCgt69_Af1f2k59gLkrxL-pUtw3bXWR5wOwCWgMVe9a3A4g2HIhyQKa3bW6EQD0BIBzQOXsrwgWE4DM-J/s1600/mldecoratingchristmastree.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas 2010 at Laura's</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Yesterday we (Minnesota) were hit with a major blizzard. About 18 inches of snow. I am living now with my friend Laura and her son Walker as we go through this transition. She played Christmas music as we decorated the Christmas tree ... and the house was filled with warmth and love as she made chili and biscuits. And as she reached for the last ornament in the box, she pulled out The Little Drummer boy ornament. She knows my story and significance of The Little Drummer boy. She handed it to me and said I need to put this ornament up. Laura remembers the story behind all her ornaments except for this one. She said, "I think The Little Drummer boy ornament has been waiting for you and for your story." So as I clasped the ornament in my hand I could feel Papa; I could feel him carrying me; and I whispered to him ... this will be a new beginning ..."<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSIjdunk92_fPIUc-Qel_CbBnVdawuGqs3hOO40v9CYJFh3NurB0faj10D_inmpzanglBcMJydeWiwp8frm3Wox7_UqDRsvIUrbs71y3sRig3UsQSh0ZEKFAd_JtCrcRTcPhj91I721oUj/s1600/Little+drummer+boy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="311" data-original-width="320" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSIjdunk92_fPIUc-Qel_CbBnVdawuGqs3hOO40v9CYJFh3NurB0faj10D_inmpzanglBcMJydeWiwp8frm3Wox7_UqDRsvIUrbs71y3sRig3UsQSh0ZEKFAd_JtCrcRTcPhj91I721oUj/s200/Little+drummer+boy.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
And yes, it was a major dip in my life's journey in 2010, and another fork in the road for me.<br />
My Papa has been watching over me and sending me many angels and guardians throughout my life. My dear friend Laura Leonard is one of them. From the bottom of my heart Laura, thank you for being a refuge and a sanctuary for me when I so needed it, and didn't know how to ask <3 p="">Just yesterday morning, I asked Joannie to help me move through Christmas in a different way. I made a request, I want to have a Christmas tree in our house. I want to celebrate Christmas, and for me that is also celebrating my Papa and his passing. Christmas has been associated with my Papa and my mother's pain. A childhood memory and pain I haven't wanted to feel or sense with all of me. Laura gifted me with the Little Drummer boy Christmas ornament saying, "I think The Little Drummer boy ornament has been waiting for you and for your story"<br />
<br />
8 years later, I believe my story is ready to come out.<br />
<br />
This year, we will fill our house with the spirit of Christmas, with Papa, with lights and smell of baking Christmas cookies. This year, we may be down to 3 beloved companions (Ishka, Legacy and Missy), but we will have the spirit of Ahnung, Piper and Mister with us as we celebrate Christmas, Papa, childhood, life, living. joy, peace .....<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS4-IHYfrezf44oer3ejJ1g-UJ4PXit8gyvYUsN2i1kpkZ1JSWxk93C0ZRSgYrEGarzRSZwQ7-1jSJf1ARZsp7a9iplZLbeY_MuOC8glJDtr1qSTF5p2yDKuFcgc8LBcUHazxlSQq8TZPa/s1600/mlwithpapa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS4-IHYfrezf44oer3ejJ1g-UJ4PXit8gyvYUsN2i1kpkZ1JSWxk93C0ZRSgYrEGarzRSZwQ7-1jSJf1ARZsp7a9iplZLbeY_MuOC8glJDtr1qSTF5p2yDKuFcgc8LBcUHazxlSQq8TZPa/s1600/mlwithpapa.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /></3>Marilouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04754311331904306582noreply@blogger.com0