YESTERDAY IS ALREADY OURS!

January 2, 2019 (when the real work starts of moving forward)

Dear Friends,

It's the morning after the morning after, January 2nd, when we have to truly head back to work, and remember to put the correct year on our checks, if indeed we still write checks. For me today, that meant reviewing the chapters for discussion at my book group gathering tomorrow morning. We've been reading "The Other Side of Chaos: Breaking through when life is breaking down" by Margaret Silf. It's a fantastic book to read on your own, very useful for your inner work AND also very useful for dialog with others. I highly recommend you read it...no matter your age or circumstance. 

My favorite part of the reading this week is Chapter 14: Yesterday is Already Ours! And rather than do too much commentary, I thought I'd just share my favorite quotes from this chapter (see below). Silf manages to hit the nail on the head for me...getting at what holds me back most often..the fear of losing what I had. What a hopeful thought, that we can't lose what is already ours because we carry it forever in our hearts! I believe that now! And I'm glad for her way of reminding me of that.

I hope you read the book and I pray you'll be able to move forward knowing that what you treasure most can never be taken from your heart.

Blessings on you as you lean into the new year!   ~ jules (1/2/19)

• But what struck me most about Cadfael’s comment was his affirmation that “yesterday is already ours.” One of our biggest fears, and the cause of so much resistance to change, is that we think we are on the verge of losing, irrevocably, what we value from our past. Yes, like Cadfael, we have a past. To be human is to have a past. Some of that past may be about things we wish we could put behind us forever and wipe clean from the slate of memory. Other things we cherish and dread losing. To embrace the unknown future that change and transition hold out to us is, we feel, to risk losing all that we have invested our lives in so far.
• "Don’t be afraid that in letting go you are losing anything at all, because everything that matters, from this time of graced encounter, or from any other experience in your life, has been internalized and is firmly lodged in your heart. It is yours. It is a part of you. It travels with you and can never be lost.”
• Nothing can take from us the gift of all that our past has given us.
• We can’t lose it, and it will play a crucial part in shaping our future.
• The big question for me is this: when I look at the cherished item that I am trying to carry through the shifting scenes of my life, am I trying to turn back the clock, or am I just wanting to remind myself that the past is still an active part of me?
• The past is already ours; these photos and mementos remind us daily that this treasure that was ours is not lost but carried with us, not just in our bags but in our hearts. And the future is ours, too, to explore and, we hope, to make a contribution to. This isn’t nostalgia. This is wisdom.

And questions from Margaret Silf to ponder:

What treasure from your own past experiences or relationships do you feel has been internalized and forever absorbed into your heart? Notice how it continues to enrich you. It has been said that our memories are like a garden from which we can never be expelled. Which memories in your soul’s garden are life-giving, making you feel more fully alive in the present moment and more hopeful for the future? Is there anything that you cling to from the past that you feel may be holding you prisoner in false nostalgia and blocking your way ahead? The yearning to go back to what has passed can take over our consciousness to the extent that we actually fail to see, let alone respond to, the beckoning of the future and the joys and challenges of the present moment. Do you detect any symptoms like these in your present situation? 

A NEW YEAR'S INVITATION

(photo: dawn on my street on winter solstice)

A NEW YEAR'S INVITATION

A new year has come

and your are invited to the feast of

another 365 days of living

a buffet of flavors and seasons

Love, humor, color, and more

Come taste the life offered to you

Open your ears to the music

your eyes to the beauty

your heart to the possibilities

A new year has come and you are invited

to live life to its fullest

to be who you are

may 2017 be your best year yet!

~Jules

The Basement Excavation: the 100th Box!

“Letting go is hard (really hard) but sometimes holding on is harder.” ~ Anonymous quote.

“Sometimes letting things go is an act of far greater power than defending or hanging on” ~ Eckhart Tolle

What's the greater risk? Letting go of what people think - or letting go of how I feel, what I believe, and who I am? Brene Brown

_______________________________________________________

(NOTE: I did not say last box...I said 100th box!)

Today, just today, I went through my 100^th box! Of the boxes I have gone through, I have emptied 62 boxes! This means that most of those 62 boxes has ended up in the recycling bin by our garbage…and a few have made it to the thrift store. I am 8 weeks in to my commitment to attack 2 boxes per day. Of the boxes that are not empty, an additional 15 are scheduled to be given to other people; mostly old Malagasy books. And though I still have umpteen photo/negatives/slide boxes to go through, I am pausing to celebrate my progress.

Wow! The 100^th box! When I started I was very skeptical about getting even this far. I didn’t even count the boxes past 100 because I never believed I’d make it that far. This is amazing, so miraculous! I am not even sure that I can take credit for it even though I have felt each box in my bones and heart as I’ve sorted and emptied. A lot of tears have been shed. A lot of deep breaths have been let go. There have been many days when the instinct to hold on was stronger than the the need to let go. I can honestly say I am getting better at it though. Little by little I’m beginning to feel the power of letting go like Eckhart Tolle says in his quote (see above). Little by little, I am beginning to notice that along with the stuff, I’m letting go of old definitions of strength, of family, of connections. I’m letting go of what people think, of perceived expectations and focusing more on what I need to do to be healthy, what my family needs. Little by little, I am beginning to believe that my life after this will be freer, lighter; that I won’t be carrying this burden of stuff so I’ll have room to give more of my heart to other adventures.

So I am nearing the end of going through boxes of papers (which were mostly letters and scrapbook savings). Soon I will be going through a couple dozen boxes of old photos/slides/negatives. As I head that direction, I want to offer my gratitude to all of those who have offered me support and understanding in this process. I never dreamed I would get this far. Thank you!

~Jules

The Basement Excavation: A family history of saving and grief.

Ash Wednesday was ten days ago and much like many other people I've decided to try a new spiritual practice during the 40 days of Lent that follow it. I've decided to practice getting rid of things, letting go of the past, letting go of stuff, and in some cases letting go of commitments. this is a very personal journey. It is not the first time I've told myself, I am going to de-clutter; I'm going to let go. "Easier said than done" is understatement.

Looking back on a history of family saving
I was born into a family of savers (some might call them pack rats). There were some very logical and practical reasons for the saving over the generations. We didn't have much money. My mom had grown up moving around a lot.  Our family, in turn, also moved a lot, traveled a lot. Along the way, as you travel, you collect things. My parents were missionaries on the island of Madagascar so we couldn't just run to the store for new things. We were thrifty, using the same clothes, books, toys over and over again. We saved them, took care of them and were able to enjoy them for more than one generation. This served my family well for a long time. it was a good habit that taught us to be good stewards of what we had. It also taught us to save things we would never need to use again.

In addition, there are family historians on both sides of my family; in particular my mom's side. Before the dawn of the digital age, these ancestors, including my grandfather, kept diaries, extensive family tree information, took wonderful photographs and slides and even wrote books. My grandfather had a habit of saving all his correspondence (every letter he wrote or received) some of which serve to narrate his family relationships.  He wrote about 40 books, most not published but there are copies for his children. He had his own library. So for my siblings and I, our inheritance consisted mainly of a shed full of books, letters, photographs, slides and boxes with various sentimental and practical things that my parents thought we would use after they were done with it. They meant well. Our parents were trying to help and somehow, as the youngest child, it all ended up in my lap, my basement. And I added some of my own.

Storing my Grief
Over the years I have explored several theories and justifications and analysis for the behavior of hanging on to stuff. The reason that stands out above the rest is grief. I was born in Madagascar, spending most of my time in an Eden-like setting on the southern tip of the island with vacations with my parents in the capital city. For me Ft. Dauphin and Tananarive, Madagascar are my home towns, but there is no home in either one of them to go back to. So when I left, I took what i could with me and hung on to those possessions, notes, diaries, photographs with all my might. I took my home with me. When my parents died, I welcomed their treasures from those places too. It was then I realized they had been taking a piece of home along with them too.

Grief, in its darkest moment, is the excruciating pain of separation from those people and places you love. It makes sense to me then that in those darkest days of grief, we just hung on to what we could of those lost relationships, those lost places.

When I was 17 I left my home in Madagascar for the last time. I have never been back. When I was 27 my dad died. When I was 41 my third son Hans died of brain cancer. Six months later, my best friend died. Several years later my mom died. With each death, each separation, each new wound of grief, I hung on to the pieces of those places and relationships that I could, much like my parents and grandparents had before. And all the while the basement filled up with my grief.

By the time I was in a better place, I didn't want to return to the boxes, the stuff I had stored. I just wanted to live in the joy that I could. Above ground, above the grief, I went on with my life (a pretty joyful life) but every time I walked through the basement, I was reminded. The pile was growing and it was serving me less and less.

So here I am, years later. The boys are grown up and have homes of their own. Pete and I are grandparents. It's Day #11 of my commitment. I've gone through at least 2 boxes each day. Pete is making the first haul to the thrift store. Our recycling container is full. There is a long, long way to go. I've done the easy stuff first. But there is hope.

There is hope.

Changing seasons

Changing Seasons
warm sunny blue sky yesterday
cloudy, blustery cool wind today
a few raspberries still growing
even as the leaves on the bushes
brown and drop
the changing season is 
as fickle as my heart
one day I am absolutely certain
I am ready to move on, get things done
the next day I have crawled back in my bed
to wallow in sweet memories 

and mourn the losses
one minute I'm going to take on the world
sure as any that my heart can take it all on
the next minute, I've decided to take it slow
let's think it through one more time
and then a deep sigh to pause
I look out the window and see
I will change as the seasons do
as I have always done
try or not I will go with the tide
someday looking back on this moment
with gratitude and grief
noticing how the leaves that dropped
became food for the spring
and it will be enough

~jules, 10/12/2015

Changing Time

A heart-centered moment changes time. 

I woke up fairly early this morning, around 7 a.m. My first appointment for the day is officially at 11 a.m. As I crawled out of bed doing the math, I figured I'd have time for a leisurely breakfast, a cup tea and some ruminating on life and still have time to get some meeting notes typed up, some papers read and responded to, dishes washed, write a blog, update my calendar and perhaps even brush my teeth and hair. Well, I sat down to write some notes up from a meeting the other night and got caught up in the excitement again of that night. We were brainstorming and dreaming. It was wonderful. The energy seems to come effortless and the clock ticks on by easily when the heart/soul is vibrating in joy. The old adage rings true: Time flies when you're having fun. And that begs the question: Then why aren't we focusing more our life on what brings our hearts joy? Or are we doing that already and just hiding it well behind gloom and doom newscasts?

Contrast this morning with yesterday morning. Yesterday I got up even earlier and checked in at my desk an hour before the office officially opens. I was poised to be efficient and get so much done. And then my computer wouldn't connect with the printer. Problem-solving took over as the morning crawled along. I looked at the clock repeatedly hoping it was now time for lunch so I could excuse myself from the slog of trying to get anything done. It moved slow and I got more and more inefficient as the stress took its toll. so hiding underneath that other adage is this one: Time crawls when you're suffering. Sigh! And yet, this too is part of life. Even in the midst of the gray day, it is a positive thing to hit the wall and move through it to the other side. I did, 9 hours later, eventually get enough done so I could leave the office in peace. But my heart had checked out long before that.

Then there was the other day when I went to visit a friend recovering from surgery. We hadn't seen each other in a while. Three hours passed effortlessly. I didn't even notice lunch time breezing by. I could easily have spent more time but she was tired and so we moved on but I noted how life seems so smooth, so in sync, so effortless when our hearts are all in.

As I get move through life, time seems less and less and less tied to the ticking of a clock and more and more connected to the beating of my heart. Time cannot control us or make us do anything. It simply is a mirror reflecting the longing of our deepest parts. If we let our hearts be all in, we could even possibly travel through time. Hmmm.

uh-oh, I better get going. It's almost time for that appointment.

have a good time,

jules

10/18/13

Movement

it's on my mind, it's on my heart
but that doesn't necessarily mean it happens

still, the dream ignites,

passion provides fuel

and eventually something begins to form

change is always happening

but some change is slow motion

like watching an oak tree grow

some change is explosion

like a volcano creates a mountain in a day

some burns like a forest fire

while another is pressure until it gives

creating tremors for miles around

still other change is a gentle breeze

that softly blows the dandelion seeds off

and carries them along

until they find soil

even if it might not happen

it probably will

in one way or another

because change is the constant we know to be truth

if i just let it flow in the way that it needs to

dreams, love, passion,

movement

life

~jules, 9/12/13

Like Nails and Wood

"Reclamation" by Melanie Van Houten

I saw this picture of this sculpture and these are the thoughts that came to me....


LIKE NAILS AND WOOD

Words strung together
Like pieces of string
Knotted, tangled, confusing and connecting
Some are within the walls of the rules we've built
Like nails and wood
They keep us safe
But we could be trapped in this old house
Of constricting, shaming and divisive language.
What if we strung together words in a new way?
Creating doors and windows
Lifting our old infrastructure
Right over our heads
Freeing ourselves in the process

What if it is just a house and we can rebuild it?
What if they are just words and we can imagine life differently?
What if what we say really does have power to free?

8/9/13
~jules