I am a healer

I want to be able to call myself a healer. To say "I am a healer" and to know that my heart's work is as a facilitator of the release of pain. I am so thankful that I am finally on that path. I am also inspired with the knowledge that my journey is just beginning and that it need not ever end. In fact, perhaps my journey isn't just beginning and all of my life's experiences have been set up to bring me to where I am now. I don't know if I would be here without the "wounds" of my past. And I am certain I owe much to my deep spiritual experiences - beginning at an early age, shaken up during adolescence, abandoned while reconciling my desires, and found again from a rebirth of sorts.

I went to a reggae concert this weekend and I want to use one of their lyrics as a metaphor for how I feel deep inside: "There's a fire in my soul." Indeed, there is a fire there and I just want to keep adding wood to the fire so it can grow and remain nurtured. I also went to another show and heard another lyric that stuck with me. I can't remember the words exactly, but basically it was about "maybe the point to life is there is no point." Standing on it's own, this lyric sounds kind of harsh, but within the context of the song it resonated with me the idea that as human beings we are constantly trying to make sense of and understand the meaning of life. And maybe the meaning of life is much more simple than all of the religious philosophies hypotheses? We are all here to touch others and to be touched ourselves. So whatever the point to life is, let me live each moment in gratitude of the beauty of this world, the connecting of souls, the wonder of imperfection, the freedom to be me and to know that in simply being me I can and have made a difference in other's lives.

So there, I am already a healer in my own way. You are too, you just have to believe it. God, it just sounds so good.

The Gift of Life

"The Gift of Life" - Alan Jones (An episcopal priest speaks of his daily practice in the art of "Contemplative Dying)

In my tradition we try to practice dying every day so that we ay be fully alive. What I understand of my prayer life is to place myself on the threshold of death, to participate in my dying, so that I may live each day and each moment as a gift. What I cultivate is a grateful heart; each moment then becomes a new thing. My gratitude comes from the sheer gift of life itself.

Who you are cannot be contained in what is happening to you just now. You are part of a love story. You are desired and longed for. There are thousands of witnesses before you who would claim that you are held in the arms of love. And I'd like to leave you with the prayer that one of the Franciscans left with me -

O my God, you are here. O my God, I am here. O my God, we are here. And always, always, always you love us. Always, always you love us.

May the angels of God watch over you; may Mary and all the Saints pray for you, and all those whose lives you touch, this moment and forevermore. Amen

Ritual

Today I began a new ritual, at least I am hoping and praying that I will have the strength and self discipline to continue this practice every day so that I can one day call it a true ritual. The experience I had was profound.

A few years ago I worked as a hospice volunteer coordinator and I was given a two disk c.d. set called "Graceful Passages." The first c.d. has a bunch of soothing messages from various cultural traditions about death and dying set to beautiful, peaceful music. The second c.d. is just the music without the words on the first c.d. I lost track of this c.d. for a few years and then a couple of months ago I went home to my parent's house and when I was searching through my things, I happened upon it and brought it back to the city with me. I first listened to it again when I was suffering from a few days of insomnia and thought I would give the calming nature of the c.d. a try in my varied attempts at falling asleep. I wasn't entirely successful, but thank God that I listened to it that day because the messages touched my soul and I have been thinking for awhile of using the c.d.s in a daily practice of some sort.

Today, I took the idea out of my head and put it into practice. I just created a mini-altar in my bedroom that consists of two sculptures I bought from a medicine woman in Bolivia (one represents Pacha Mama and the other Pacha Papa -- mother earth and father earth), a wood sculpture of a Yogi, and a bunch of incense that I brought back with me from Vietnam. I lit a stick of incense which conveniently sits inside the Pacha Mama figure, turned on the music portion of the Graceful Passages c.d., got out a comfy pillow, knelt down on my pillow and began to pray. I started off thanking God and acknowledging the energy of the universe and of Pacha Mama and asked to be filled with the energy from both the heavens and the earth. The rest of what I said is fairly inconsequential, but once I let go of the words and simply sat with my thoughts and the smell of the incense wafting in the air, my thoughts turned towards the love and beauty that I have received from my family in Ecuador. These people are not my family through birth and while we don't communicate fluently in each other's languages, the love I felt from them when I was there filled my body and came pouring out of me as my eyes filled with tears which I let roll down my face one by one. I simply sat and felt filled with love and gratitude.

After I got up from the pillow, I played one of the messages from the c.d. I want to share that message here because I think it is incredibly beautiful. Actually, I changed my mind. I think I will give the message it's own post cause it is deserving of standing alone.

You're the inspiration

I had dinner this weekend with my friend from Mexico. He has lived here over ten years and has worked in restaurant kitchens all over the city; usually clocking around 80 hours of work a week. Most of his wages are sent home to care for his two children that he has not been able to see since he came to this country. Every time I hang out with him, I can't help but feel grateful for all of the things that I take for granted. He never feels sorry for himself, his view is that he is doing his duty for his family and he is happy to have money to send to his kids so that they can go to school. I just wanted to write this post as a tribute to him as an inspiration in my life.

His attitude of finding the positive in every situation was never better illustrated for me than one day at my old job when the front of house workers were all complaining about how we weren't being paid on time. He told me, "I worked at a restaurant before and I went to work and it was closed and I never got paid $1500 that they owed me." I thought that was ridiculous, "Are you kidding me?" I exclaimed. His response I will never forget, "Yea, but I got to work with a really great chef and learn a lot. So basically it was like I paid $1500 for school which is pretty cheap."

Bus wars

Why do people on public buses refuse to move to the back of the bus when they are standing up? Clearly, it must occur in some part of their self-centered brains that anyone else who gets on the bus is also going to have to stand up. And simple laws of science and space (think one of those school math problems: if a farmer has a plot of land that is 4 ft. by 4 ft. and he wants to plant x number of trees....) dictate that there will not be enough room on this front portion of the bus for all of the future passengers. With this common knowledge, it seems simply human courtesy to move as far back in the bus as you can to allow room for anyone else who gets on. Yet, without fail when I get on a full bus, I have to maneuver through all the people in the front to find a space to stand. This game of pinball gets irritating. Sometimes I just want to yell out, "Why won't you people move to the back! Don't you know that more and more people are going to get on here? Where do you think they are going to stand you idiots?" Or even worse, when there are so many people standing in the front that you try to get on the bus and you can barely fit. You have to squeeze your body against all the other passengers just to stay behind the yellow line. And you can see as you look through the clustered mass of people that there is a large empty space at the back of the bus. Whenever I see this, I long to be there, but sometimes the other passengers have kept me from reaching this oasis of space. It's not like there isn't a door in the back of the bus as well. I just don't get it and I would like someone to tell me why. Why are we living in such a self-centered society that we prefer to cause others difficulty rather than give up our so-called "prime real estate?"

Pet talk

My question of the day is: "How can some people treat their pets so great and themselves like shit?"

I was hanging out with my sister today who is going through some incredibly hard times right now, probably the most difficult times in her life. She recently rescued a dog from the Oakland ASPCA and has given the dog so much love and care that it touches my heart to see their connection. Right now, she is playing an extreme mother role for the dog. Since the dog essentially has post traumatic stress disorder from living in the shelter and having God only knows what kind of life before hand, she presents her trauma in the form of skittishness and fear. Whenever her dog becomes scared, she is quick to step right in and pet her to calm her down and say something like, "Good girl. It's okay. It's okay. You are such a good girl."

Not only does she comfort her dog, she praises and rewards her. I can't tell you how many times I heard her say, "Oh you are so cute. Aren't you just the cutest dog in the entire world. It should be illegal how cute you are." And whenever she does something good, she rewards her with a little doggie treat.

I wish with all of my heart that she could find a way to be that healer and provider of love and security for herself. She has gone through her own trauma, but has yet to talk to herself in the same manner that she does with her dog.

What if we all walked through life each day talking to ourselves like we do our pets? I think that there just might be some more people in this world who find a way to love themselves. I tell my roommate's cat constantly, "Oh, I love you so much kittle bittle. You are such a beautiful and wonderful sweetheart." I'd like to end my night saying the same thing to myself: "I love you so much and you are a beautiful and wonderful sweetheart." There, now that just feels good.

Connection

The concept of connection and community has been on my mind a great deal lately. Growing up a military brat and moving every three years, I was constantly having to create and recreate a community of friends for myself. This transitory way of life led me to develop invisible walls and barriers between myself and groups of people. I've always been a very social person, but at the same time maintained that I had a need for independence. I lived life with a sort of "I don't need anyone else" attitude. I also grew up in a family where intense fighting was the norm and emotional support virtually nonexistent, somewhat abusive one could say. In a space where words were more often hurtful than mindful and crying always meant that something was wrong. My way of coping when I was growing up was to maintain a somewhat "invisible" status, again, harking back to my claim that all I really need I can give myself.

Recently, I have discovered the beauty and importance of being in community. I no longer desire to withhold my feelings from others, including myself. I also recognize my need for connection. I am so grateful that I am allowing these desires to exist.

Tonight, I went to a bipolar support group. Lately, my moods have been swinging all over the place and I thought it would be nice to talk to some others. I really want to write more about this, but I need to go to bed. So, I just want to say that I am proud of myself for facing a fear. I also want to note that people are amazing and wonderful beings and that as tough has my illness has been in my life, I am actually grateful for it for allowing me to really have compassion and empathy for a kind of struggle with one's own mind that is impossible for many people to understand.