Legacy ... when the body begins to slow down

 My sweet Legacy is 13 years old. He is slowing down and I am so grateful for the gift of this sweet boy. 13 years ago he arrived in the cities from Leech Lake reservation with 12 other puppies. I was supposed to just foster him and this boy wiggled his way into my heart. He also brought out a playful side of Ahnung I had never seen before. As I walk alongside of Legacy as he begins to show signs of aging and slowing down I embrace moments with him with so much gratitude. On mornings where we are able to get out to the water and watch the sunrise, and where he shows joy and curiosity for all the wonderful smells and critters that are around, it fills my heart. I do notice my mind wandering to a time when he will no longer walk with me to the water, and my heart fills with sadness. I pause and stroke his head, his body and I find myself wanting to memorize every moment and how his fur feels on my hand, the markings on his body ... his beautiful bushy tail. There is a deep pain and heaviness when I think about the time when I will no longer have him with me. I also know that when it is time for him to transition that his beloved Ahnung will be there waiting for him. Anticipatory Grief has been making her presence known and felt within my heart ... I invite her in. She often comes with Ahnung and when she does, I feel a sense of comfort. There is a bond the two of them shared that goes beyond this physical existence. 

Today, I give myself grace to allow whatever feelings need to emerge ... dear sweet Ahnung, please continue to watch over your baby brother.

Sacred Mornings

 For the past few days I have found myself waking up around 4 am. I feel rested as I go to bed early. Spring is here, daylight savings time began a month ago ... the sun is rising much earlier and daylight is longer. Waking up earlier allows me to complete my morning practices of meditation and qigong and still make it out to the water before the sun has emerged from over the horizon ... walking to the water with one of my pups is a part of my sacred morning practices. Walking and listening to the birds, and paying attention to every step I make ... to breathing in and breathing .. listening to my heart .... and this morning was Ishkode's turn for a walk. She loves to smell everything. I am sure she can smell every dog and critter that has been on the trail, and like Legacy ... she insists on marking the area to say "I was here!"

This morning we walked around the lake. We began with the sun just beginning to emerge from over the horizon. And when we got half way across the lake the view from the other side was just as magnificent ... the sky and the water were so blue. Listened to geese honking and a very vocal northern flicker .... and lots of cardinals, downy woodpeckers and chickadees. Bird songs are music to my ears. And then I watched birds gathering nesting material .... soon mama birds will be keeping their eggs warm. I wonder if I will be graced this year with a cardinal nest outside my kitchen window as I have been for several years now.

My mornings are sacred to me. So much medicine and healing from slowing down to listen to my body, my heart, my mind, my spirit ... so much medicine in nature.

I am grateful for my life and for all the beautiful beings in my life. I am grateful for my beloved pups ... Legacy, Ishkode and Migizi. They too are my best medicine.

Morning Musing to My Senior Dog

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.

Legacy - Dec. 2023

Morning Musing to My Senior Dog

A time will come when my sunrise walks with you will be a memory, a series of magical moments in my heart
Till then, I memorize the way you look at me
The way you gently tug on the leash
The way you mark every tree, pole, special patch of grass saying “I was here”
The way you look at me with those soulful eyes

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

I touch your chest. I feel your heart. I sense the vibration of every heart beat. Your heart sweet boy is my heart.

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.

This morning, my friend Anticipatory Grief paid me a visit. And with her came my other friend Presence.

Baby Legacy in 2011

Lessons from my Achilles Tendon

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. 

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. 

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.

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.

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.

Legacy

Migizi

Ishkode

Celebrating 35 years of Sobriety

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

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. 

The Rope (written in 2008)

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 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.

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.

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.

II

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?”

“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.

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’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 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.  

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 .....

Listening to the wisdom of beings in all forms

 

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.

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?

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.

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. 

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.

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."

I am listening.

Eagle. Wolf. Coyote. Red-tailed hawk. Whale. Dolphin. Shark. Cardinal. Deer. Dog. Ahnung. Ishkode. Migizi.

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).

I am listening. I am trusting. I am grateful.

When Grief comes to visit again

 

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 .....

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."

And Grief makes her presence known. A return visitor.

Grief: I am here.

Why are you here?

Grief: I am never far. I am always watching over you.

I ask her but why now. Why knock on my door again? None of the pups are sick.

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.

Grief: Breathe.

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. 

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.

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.

I practice letting go ... when holding on is in my bones.

I practice loving ... when the little girl in me screams, protect your heart!

I practice staying ... when running is what I did in order to survive.

With Ahnung in every cell of my body, I practice living in love, in fullness, and in uncertainty.

with Ahnung

with Missy

with Mister