12 january 2010

today, on this tender day, i found bella:

• in a glee*full puppy, bouncing and prancing about, across the street from where i stood while waiting for the bus this morning.
• in the golden brown ponytail of a young woman on the bus.
• in trish's homemade remedy for heartache ~ thoughtful presence, laughter and all kinds of silliness.
• at the end of a heart*full phone call with momma this early-ish afternoon i spotted the tiniest, lightest, most delicate heart-shaped piece of tissue paper on the floor outside of my office.
• in the "timbuk2" bag of the person standing in front of me.
• wrapped around me while i wore her college hoodie tonight.

side by side

i know you are here.

with me.

beside me.

and, i am most grateful.

i love you, babe.

SAW reflections

i heard about Squam Art Workshops (SAW) for the first time leading up to the inaugural gathering in september 2008. i sensed SAW would be something that i would want to be a part of in the future - the near, touchable, tastable future.

after hearing about attendees' experiences at that first SAW happening i knew for sure i wanted to be there in september 2009. i felt my heart leaning, stretching, leaping towards this. and, this reaching for me, wanting me, inviting me. yes, yes, yes.

attending art camp. in the woods. surrounded by familiar beauties - some known, some soon to be known (and, once seen - oh so familiar they were/are). all of us, turning towards the shimmering light, the brave rising and the sweetest soaring.

september SAW was on my list for 2009. it was to be. no question. it simply would be. it was the future i was living into. a passage, a healing, a baptism, a renewal and a leap.

from the time of that first knowing, through registering and to arrival: i experienced the deepest darkness before the dawn (connected to the physical death of my sister/babe, bella, and my great grief journey); i honored the new ground i was standing on (claiming my new way of being in the world and in relationship with bella - our awake and alive relationship) through baptism - getting my nose pierced; and, i listened to my heart, followed spirit's guidance and chose an adventure - leaping north, to new england, creating new life and new work.

september SAW 2009 intersected with grounding in my new geography and contained all of the elements of my journey to arriving there: passage, healing, baptism, renewal and leaping.

passage: making the journey further north and back with this radiant being and my creative neighbor, Katrina (also one of my "fire*side beauties" - more on them later...); witnessing when i was feeling overwhelmed, self-conscious, afraid, stuck and on the edge of shutting down and giving myself the space to have my whole experience - being even bigger than i've ever known myself to be; and, bravely and boldly speaking my truths.

healing: embracing a large circle of women who, by simply being, have been an important part of my healing and living journey these years. jen gray, Christine Mason Miller, Susannah, Denise, Schmoopy, dar, Kirsten, Liz, Thea, Jeanine and Elizabeth - i bow to you, you have kept me warm and inspired. along the dirt path, at the table and around many fires, i welcomed a creative community of women with whom i am continuing to journey. these are my "fire*side beauties" (many of them are listed/linked on the left side of this page): danielle marie - a rock star; ab - a blossom; Lauren - a sassy sister; Jen Lee - a pioneer; jenna - a guide; Helen - a love; Vivienne - a warrior goddess; Heather - a treasure chest; and, Katrina - a lighthouse.

baptism: claiming and naming the ritual, healing and creative arts practice i am building and the creative community i have longed for and found.

renewal: time by the bonfire, beside the lake, under the stars, in the rocking chair and underneath layers and layers and layers of blankets. a kick*ass art-in-nature class led by Christopher Frost - all day, outdoors (my true, true home). refreshing my writing practice in a class led by the delicious Jen Lee. and, "Breathing Space."

leaping: a vow to cultivate play, vitality and being big and a request for my creative community's support in this.

i am - soaring on...

Sacred Life Sunday: flag day '09

happy !

i send you "Orange Sky" by the brilliant Alexi Murdoch:



may your day be filled with nourishing delicious*ness, connecting/reconnecting time with peeps you love & like, belly laughter & soulFULL music...

xo,
gem

ps happy flag day, bella! i know how you loved celebrating holidays like this one. i think we'll all always think of you on flag day. i love you, babe. so much.

i thank You

"i thank You" by e.e. cummings

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes...

"i thank You" by gem

i thank You God for most this beloved
child:for the frolicking curiously spirit of bella
and our true blue sisterhood of love; and for everything
which is bella which is infinite which is yes.

i love you, babe.
i love you so very, very, very much.
thank you for the life you birthed in me through your physical life & through your physical death.
i thank You, i thank You, i thank You.

across the river & back again

yesterday late afternoon, a trip across the river to my parents home for the evening & night. a walk with our fam's angel dog. breathing in the quiet, fresh, small town air. exhaling the city air & noise. our favorite pizza. mint chocolate chip ice cream. Marley & Me. a walk into town with dad for coffee (for him) & tea (for me). encountering neighbors along the way. sitting & sipping hot beverages on a familiar bench, one i sat on for the first time nearly 28 years ago while eating an ice cream cone. to bed just after 10 p.m. with her stuffed animal love tucked beside me.

waking at 6 a.m. rising to pain (still) in my left knee. in the shower, asking: "what is this pain in my knee telling me/trying to tell me?" listening to the answer.

stepping out of the shower & after some healing stretching, back into bed to write. then to read.

rising again. making my way back here, to my nest in the city. a smoothie. reading this post.

aware of a chain of aching hearts these days. a string of losses. first days, first occasions & first anniversaries of the grieving variety. deaths of children, grandparents, spouses, animal loves.

i sit here on this 3rd may saturday. the 3rd anniversary coming up. life as i knew it altered, shifted course (annihilated, disintegrated?), broke open on a 3rd may saturday 3 years ago. on this 3rd may saturday i can speak this, "i made my way."

so much i could say about what i mean by this ("i made my way") & not wanting to be misunderstood. for now, this - i made my way through. i crossed over. and, i am here. after the year+ of shock; after months/seasons long stints in the pitch black; after the devastation; after crawling, limping, walking around in the rubble. i am here. i weep & sometimes i sob, in thanks-giving, for my life, for my love, for my belief in the good/god/light...

listening to this song. to all who are tending to broken open hearts i sing you this, i pray you this, because i believe this, "Lights will guide you home..."

this mid-march weekend i...

• chose the winner of the blossoming give*away! to all who entered & shared what is blossoming in your journey, please know that i received in my heart each & every word. i am wildly inspired by each of you. now for the winner...the winner is: Michele!
  
• tucked myself into bed on friday night by 9:30 p.m. & enjoyed a bliss*full night of sleep.
• made home*made st. patrick's day cards for my momma & poppa.
• posted another "the goods" list.
• shared a day in the city with my momma. we ate french toast with bananas & nutella; a cheddar, bacon & apple scramble with sweet potato fries on the side; and, pizza from our favorite spot. we drank fresh squeezed orange juice & chai tea. we walked & walked & walked. we giggled & shared stories. we enjoyed seeing many members (the irish!) of our tribe wearing green & being merry. {my momma is 100% irish & she loves being irish & she gave this to her children - as well as her irish maiden name which is the middle name of her three chicks.} we had manicures & pedicures - my toes are a deep aqua & my fingers are a sparkly pink. we shopped & i bought this dress.
• packed up an overnight bag for sleeping across the river at my parents' home on saturday night.
• went for a walk with my momma & our fam's/my parents' doggie dear.
• knitted.
• watched an incredibly moving film, Taking Chance.
• voted.
• read a sweet & colorful piece of bella's writing, which my momma had found & hung on my parents' refrigerator door. the title of this piece is: "Who I Am." bella wrote about traveling the world, loving making people laugh, playing in the ocean... oh, i do hope & trust you have your very own kind of bella*love. i do. i do. i do. one thing i know is that we are all at the root/the source bella*like: full of light, love, laughter, generosity... how amazing is this?! lucky, lucky, lucky me & you & us.
• watched this video - discovered here.
• made corn bread muffins.
• looking forward to a nourishing sunday evening & night...
  

what lives on

1009 days later.
this lives on.
your:

* joy * light * love * wisdom * curiosity * generosity * wonder * color * sparkle * freedom * adventurousness * maturity * depth * playfulness * openness * compassion * silliness * bravery * boldness * shyness * quietness * commitment * activism * integrity * humanity * wildness * power * gentleness * peacefulness * healing ways * inspiring ways * superhero-ness * presence *

thank you, thank you, thank you, beloved bella.

crashing & allowing & grateful

today.
a tidal wave of grief.
crashing.
missing bella.
her familiar physical presence.
those deeply intimate, sister to sister, parent to child, heart to heart things, moments.
playing with her hair.
holding her head when she had a headache.
the scent and feel of her skin.
standing at the bedroom door when she was days old...months old...2 years old...11 years old...20 years old. looking at her. watching her. feeling the deepest and wildest and most indescribable love.
her strong body.
her silly, wise and colorFULL ways.
her jokes.
her hats. [oh, the hats!]
the known.
20+ years of herstory and ourstory.
holding her hand.
telling her stories about "when she was little." often late at night before sleep.
reading her "'Twas the Night Before Christmas" every christmas eve.
delighting in her.
not being able to get enough of her.
praising her.
witnessing the miraculousness of her being.

today.
allowing the tidal wave.
the tears.
the sobs.
feeling the raw edges of broken openness.
holding both knowing "how this can be" and wondering "how can this be?"

today.
i am wearing bella's hot pink, long sleeve shirt and her light pink, button down sweater and a necklace that i purchased (after her physical death) to honor our relationship.
i reach out to soul*sisters to speak these truths.
i do the laundry.
i go grocery shopping.
i thaw some in the sunshine and warm-ish air.
i listen to music.
i organize photos.
i write letters to january 2009 (thank you!) and february 2009 (hello!).
i drink glasses of water.
i eat the rest of yesterday's pear.
i prepare a bowl of oatmeal.
i whisper, "i love you so much, babe."
i hear her, "i'm right here. i gotcha. i am all over you."
i keep on keepin' on.
i am grateful for this love.

request

dear ones,

would you say a lil' prayer, make a lil' wish, send a lil' love to me?

as i settle into this night and draw closer to tomorrow i am feeling such sadness rising. tomorrow is the anniversary of the day i last saw bella alive in her physical body. three years ago. at the airport. sending her off on great adventures (the one we knew about: studying abroad in Africa & the one we didn't know about then: her passage out of her physical life). the adventure continues...

i am certain your lil' prayer, wish, love will make a huge difference. and, i would be so, so, so very grateful.

xo,
gem

go gently

i meet with b., my spiritual director, once a month. when our session is complete we make our way down the flights of creaky, wooden stairs to the front door. together. we hug and often b.'s parting (or, sending forth) words to me are, "go gently."

i remembered today, "go gently."

today i woke to sunlight.

today i am emerging tentatively and softly from weeks of darkness. weeks of cold. weeks of wet. weeks of sickness. weeks of heartache. weeks of tears.

i have been sorrow-full. sorrowful. it's the most perfect word to describe how i've been feeling these weeks.

today i feel relieved. relieved that the weight of this year's sorrow-full christmas season is lifting. this is my/our third christmas without bella (in her familiar physical body/form).

the first christmas was "the first christmas." the second christmas was not "the first christmas." and, this christmas felt like something else entirely. something for which i do not yet have the words to capture, contain and share.

i am in process.

for now, today, i offer this tune of gentle perfection:



and, if you, too, have been sorrow-full, heart-achey or anything of this sort, i wish you this:

"Beannacht" by John O'Donohue

On the day when
The weight deadens
On your shoulders
And you stumble,
May the clay dance
To balance you.

And when your eyes
Freeze behind
The gray window
And the ghost of loss
Gets into you,
May a flock of colors,
Indigo, red, green
And azure blue,
Come to awaken in you
A meadow of delight.

When the canvas frays
In the curragh of thought
And a stain of ocean
Blackens beneath you,
May there come across the waters
A path of yellow moonlight
To bring you safely home.

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
May the clarity of light be yours,
May the fluency of the ocean be yours,
May the protection of the ancestors be yours.

And so may a slow
Wind work these words
Of love around you,
An invisible cloak
To mind your life.

i discovered this prayer on the web earlier this year. today while at the library, without intentionally looking, i found John O'Donohue's book, To Bless the Space Between Us, and re*discovered this prayer. mysteriously/divinely i saw that John's heading for this prayer, "Beannacht", is: "A Blessing for the New Year." perfect.

every*thing in your favor

i have had many, many, many, many, many...sleep*less nights since bella died. in the past week my sleep has been a wee bit off, including saturday night into sunday morning. after wake*full hours in the dark at s & a's house early sunday morning i was ready to turn on the light & read some. i read & discovered all kinds of goodness, including these words by Rumi, which made me giggle in recognition...recognition of this truth:

"It's rigged - everything in your favor.
So there is nothing to worry about."

isn't this the best news ever?!

oh Rumi, how do you do it? sending perfect & new (& re*newing) words at exactly the right time...

at home in my lil' nest

i've been away from my lil' urban nest for days. i returned a short while ago. i turned on the heat & my twinkle lights & put on some of my favorite holiday tunes, John Denver's Rocky Mountain Christmas. i did all of this before taking off my coat or unpacking a single thing from my bags. my priorities: warmth, color, light & music.

i am filled up with the richness of recent days. family. candlelight. music. movies (this one on dvd and this one at the movie theater). hot cocoa with marshmallows. pie (pumpkin, apple & coconut custard!). a thanksgiving day walk with my momma, our fam's doggie dear and one of bella's dearest friends. the presence of family friends. [just a word about presence...it means so much, your/our presence. always, of course. and, especially, when people's hearts are broken and they are standing (sometimes barely, always bravely) in awe of the depth of the ache they are feeling. as it was for me this thanksgiving, missing bella so much.] snuggling with my momma on the couch and falling asleep while resting my head on her chest. preparing chocolate chip walnut cookie dough to freeze & bake at christmas*time. calling, texting & e-mailing beloved friends to say, "thank you for being. i love you." a haircut. getting a manicure/pedicure with momma. donating here. egg nog with nutmeg sprinkled on top. purchasing two of these. rest. finding these words at church this a.m.: "Someday after the long, dark waiting there will be Light..." hearing the invitation this a.m. at church: "watch. be watchFULL in the waiting."

it is the season of advent. a season i am celebrating. a season all are invited to celebrate as s/he wishes, as s/he is called. advent means: "a coming into place, view, or being; arrival." it is this that i am celebrating: a season of coming into place, view or being; a season honoring arrival & birth. as i begin my celebration of this season i am honoring the dark, the unseen, the waiting & the promise of light.

dear mother earth & more: Sacred Life Sunday

elements of my :

*i discovered this prayer in the prayer book, LIFE PRAYERS FROM AROUND THE WORLD, edited by Elizabeth Roberts & Elias Amidon. this is my prayer for today, for all my days.

Please, dear mother Earth,
Help me to stand firm on my own two feet
Drawing on the solid earth below me
Help me to know the constancy of your strength
the power that is you, oh dear mother earth
Help me to walk with the blood of rivers in my veins
and the dark crumbling soil of earth in my flesh
Let my muscles be strong as the tree trunks
that rise up out of your belly
To dance in the sky
and sing praises to the life all around
Beating, pulsing, rich and full
with your sweet sure energy.
Oh dear mother earth,
Live in this body today.
Sing loudly in every breath I take
Stretch wildly and flow freely
with all the directions I move
and come home with me,
come home to my belly
live deep in my soul
oh mother earth, SING!
-Stephanie Kaza

*a 1 hour 36 minutes & 18 seconds reconnecting phone conversation with a beloved sister who lives in laramie, wyoming. hearing that she is well and happy. this is a victory! a few years ago she proclaimed with humor (one of her magnificent gifts) and truth*fully that her life resembled a Lifetime movie. i am blessed with an abundance of soul*sisters. lucky, lucky, lucky me.

*remembering the delicious*ness of last night's dinner & nourishing conversation with another soul*sister. after dinner, a night of heart*moving sacred singing/chanting/Kirtan.

*in less than 2 hours i will embrace a sweet soul from portland, maine & her co-worker, who are in my city on business. we will celebrate thanks*giving & dine together!

*baking a family favorite cookie: coconut thumbprint cookies with raspberry preserves.

*wearing bella's pink sweater and a piece of jewelry (purchased in honor of my love for bella and her love for me) made by the divine Thea Coughlin.

*looking forward to this week: lunch with a friend at a favorite spot on monday afternoon; a kundalini yoga class on monday night; a tuesday afternoon reunion with a marvelous being, who i have not seen in over 9 years; going to see & listen to the great poet Mary Oliver on tuesday night; big bro's birthday on wednesday; a vinyasa yoga class on wednesday morning & dedicating this practice to my big bro; being at my parents' home with my bro & our fam's angel dog on wednesday afternoon - sunday; and, enjoying good food, fresh air, movies, games and all kinds of cozy*ness.

wildflowers

"Wildflowers"
by Tom Petty

You belong among the wildflowers
You belong in a boat out at sea
Sail away, kill off the hours
You belong somewhere you feel free

Run away, find you a lover
Go away somewhere all bright and new
I have seen no other
Who compares with you

You belong among the wildflowers
You belong in a boat out at sea
You belong with your love on your arm
You belong somewhere you feel free

Run away, go find a lover
Run away, let your heart be your guide
You deserve the deepest of cover
You belong in that home by and by

You belong among the wildflowers
You belong somewhere close to me
Far away from your trouble and worry
You belong somewhere you feel free
You belong somewhere you feel free

for bella, for me & for you...this perfect song that i heard tonight during my kundalini yoga class.

i just need to say it

today i exchanged a series of e-mails with my m. e-mails about thanks*giving eve/my big bro's b*day, thanks*giving day & thanks*giving weekend plans & details. in our final exchange about thanks*giving & birth*day details my m. wrote, "it's terrible without [bella] here [now, at this thanks*giving & birth*day time]...isn't it?...there, i just need to say it."

i read her words & it was as if a button had been pushed & the grief & the sorrow rose up (imagine the grief dwelling underground & then getting on the elevator in the basement & making it's way up to the 77th floor in 1.3 seconds) & tears filled my eyes (entirely). i wrote back, "it is. heartbreakingly painful without bella's familiar physical presence."

again, i am in awe of this grief journey. again, i am aware of how radical death is. my life, my being, is completely altered. and, this is not bad. no. there is no judgment in the naming of this transformation. it just is mind*blowingly incomprehensible sometimes. i have cried streams, lakes, rivers & oceans...tomorrow it will be 2 1/2 years, 30 months exactly, since bella died.

my weekend: a list

*writing
*list making
*updating finances
*paying bills
*sending/responding to e-mails
*creating november intentions: being new; being in process; being fear*less
*morning yoga practice & prayer at home
*indian food lunch & movie with t.
*a walk & cell phone talk with d.
*a 90 minute saturday evening phone conversation with l.
*a slice o' pumpkin pie with whipped cream on top
*11 hours of sleep on saturday night
*falling back: turning the clocks back
*preparing a spinach lasagna for tuesday night's election celebration!
*diggin' out my "Certificate of Voter Registration" card to bring with me when i vote on tuesday mornin'
*creating an altar for bella & my maternal grandmother at my parents' home in celebration of Day of the Dead
*a trip to Michaels
*saturday & sunday morning dance parties in my nest

you are invited to a dance party

who says i/you/we can't have a dance party before 9 a.m. on a saturday morning? after all, i am a morning girl. who says i can't cry at my dance party while singing the second tune to bella?

care to join me? here are two tunes to get you movin'. especially if you've felt a bit off*balance, sick/achy & on edge this week...i had this kind of a week.

happy shakin' your booty & maybe even shiftin' your spirit! let me know if you joined the dance party. let me know if you sang the second tune to any*one(s) special.

first:



next:



more from me later...

Christian the Lion

i imagine re*unioning with bella in some way, at some time, and it looking and feeling a lot like this:

sprout

this evening after work i went to get a manicure and pedicure in preparation for a very special event this weekend. [the tips of my fingers are sparkling light pink and my toes are gushing deep heart red.] while i sat patiently and obediently, with my hands and feet under dryers, i looked out the window and i experienced myself really seeing what was outside. even more, i experienced myself being a part of it. being a part of the flow of life. connected. grounded. here. alive.

a word came to mind as i walked home to my little nest: sprout. i feel like a little sprout. a sprout even as i grieve a loss unlike any other (bella's death) and as i heal the wounds from all that has come tumbling down in these early decades of my life. i know i will break free (sprout!) from the weight of the concrete and rubble of years and years and years of heartache, loss and sadness.

i've been getting power-full glimpses of this lately. moments when i feel something like hope. something like spring. something like being on the edge of a miracle. something unlike anything (or, at least with a texture unlike anything) i've ever felt. so grateful am i. as i enter this new month. this month of bella's physical death. bella: my great love, my darling babe, my sister, my friend.

i know (intellectually) i will be okay. it is something else entirely to feel that i will be okay, that life and living, that my life and my living will be okay, brilliant, even. it seems, the depth of my grief and brokenness is giving birth to a healing equal in proportion.

before coming here to write tonight i opened up one of my favorite books, The Soul Support Book by Deb Koffman, to a spread with an orange background. at the center of this spread is a panel/series of images of buds. the last panel contains the image of one of these buds bursting open. underneath it all are these words: "Everything happens in its own time." yes, yes. yes, indeed.