Finding Water

Last night I attended the opening of the exhibit "I Am Water",  at the Form and Content Gallery in Minneapolis.  There was amazing water based art to view on the walls and a number of readings, accompanied by some very talented musical folks on the drums and flute.  My friend David Grant was one of the readers, and he sang a song he had written about the water goddesses in Africa,  stunning us with his beautiful singing voice.  It was an entertaining and enlightening evening.

Strangely enough, I had been thinking about the theme of water that week. In a conversation with a friend she had said "you don't go to the desert to find water"; and I thought at the time how true that was about life in general.   When we seek connection and affirmation, it makes sense to look for that where we will be welcomed and supported, not where we will be judged or minimized.   So in essence, our whole lives are a process of "finding water".  Finding where we fit in life, finding ourselves and the people and activities we can truly resonate with.  I decided at the time that that phrase would be the title for my newest book of poetry.   It is partially finished and speaks to the experience of being part of groups and organizations that are not healthy, not welcoming, not whole, while also describing the people and moments that I find meaning and connection in.   It was with irony and some awe that I realized the title of the exhibit last night as "I Am Water"- I had thought of it as "my friend David's reading" and had  never looked closely at the title.   The Universe has an interesting sense of humor.

I found myself connecting to the poetry and music, lulled by the rhythmic beat of the drums and the haunting sound of the flute. I was able to meet some of the poets who had read their work, and reconnect with my long time friend David.  I realized that in all the years I have known him, this is the first time I had heard him read, and the first time I realized what an incredible singing voice he had.  The words and the rhythms were deep, and heartfelt.  This was not an event for shallow sentiments. This was people sharing a little bit of their souls, and finding some nourishment for themselves in the process.  A good first step for someone whose goal for the new year is to find water- to find meaning and connection in a world that is not always kind to those who are a little different.  

Flowers and Small Town Homophobia

There is a wonderful flower artist in town, who decorates the landscapes of the Cities with his  handmade flowers.  He takes pictures in familiar places- the Sculpture Garden, Fort Snelling, Lake Calhoun; and turns these familiar places into magical bursts of color and life.  His name is David Cook, and I love his work.  The fact that he is a man in recovery  and someone who has struggled with depression makes these gorgeous works of art even more meaningful to me.

Friday David was in Hastings putting out his flowers, when two middle aged men in a large truck screamed a gay slur at him, and displayed their middle fingers before speeding off like the cowards they were.  I found this very upsetting, and put the following post on my facebook page: David- you are a very talented artist, and every time I see your work it makes me happy. As for the two middle aged men yelling slurs at David in Hastings-your behavior really shows who you are. My mother once said that only people who really don't like themselves very much harass others, and I think that's probably the truth. Your behavior tells me that you are insecure, immature, and have no solid sense of who you are as men. If you think you are somehow making yourself more attractive to women with that kind of behavior, think again. No emotionally healthy woman would want to be around someone who is behaving like that. Ignorance and abusiveness are not attractive qualities. Your small-minds... and empty hearts will come back to bite you.

It's hard for me to comprehend why two grown men would want to harass someone they don't know.  It makes me wonder what their relationships are with the women in their lives, their coworkers, their friends. I wonder what their children would think if they saw their fathers behaving like this towards a man who was doing nothing more than making their town a little more beautiful.  I wonder why they feel so threatened and so insecure as men that they felt the need to attack someone they felt wasn't "manly" enough.  Truth be told, I think David is the real man here, and that those two middle aged men don't have a clue about what "being a man" really means.  I wonder where they learned their hatred, and if they are passing it on to their children.  I wonder if they go to church on sunday and talk about God; then behave like this in the community, like there is no discrepancy or hypocrisy about that. 

I think those two men have a lot to learn about what it means to be a human being, as well as what it means to be a man.  The men I spend time with in my life are intelligent and compassionate people.  They spend time and energy trying to make the world a better place; they treat others with respect and kindness. They stand up for those who are tormented by men like the two men in Hastings who heckled David.  The men I spend time with don't make judgements on people based on their sexual orientation, their race, their gender, their income status.  They are centered in who they are, and don't feel threatened by people who are not exactly the same as they are.  These are the qualities I associate with "real" men; not the insecurity and hatred that David was shown.   If those two men in Hastings only knew that what they showed to the world was not strength, but weakness.  The weakness of their narrow minds and their stunted hearts- their dysfunctional ideas about what makes a person a man or a woman.  The weakness of their insecurity and fear when confronted with a gentle man putting out flowers.  If they only knew how ugly their actions appear against the backdrop of those vivid blooms, and how ironic that seems to me.  But that would require insight, and I think those two are in short supply of that.  Meanwhile David continues on, lighting up the landscape with his beautiful creations, and leaving the world a more fabulous place than he found it. 

Marriage Equality!

May 14, 2013- the day marriage equality for same sex couples was signed into law. I was  there, in a crowd of thousands.  Watching Mark Dayton formally sign the bill on the capitol lawn, surrounded by men, women, and children whose families would finally be formally recognized by the law.  I never thought I would see this in my lifetime.  For me it was like being present when women were given the vote, or when all slaves were freed- a moment where everything changed.  A moment where humanity was recognized and old biases and fears were set aside.  Historic, moving, and about damn time. 

It's interesting what equality brings out in individual people.  Many in the crowd were in tears, or openly jubilant. I felt surrounded by the energy, hope, and love of literally thousands of people.  For me it was incredible, a leap into a better future- a future where my GLBT friends, relatives, and coworkers could live their lives more openly and with more legal protections for their families.  

The next day I followed stories about the bill signing on Facebook.  I saw many positive postings, but was very disappointed to see postings that were quite negative. Ironically, some of those postings came from people that I knew personally, and who I knew had gay friends.  Some referenced the Bible, or "traditional" marriage; and I was reminded of the civil rights era,  when some people would talk about their wonderful black friends, but wouldn't want their sons or daughters to date those same friends.  To some people, equal is only partially equal, and everyone was still supposed to "know their place".   The hypocrisy was glaring to me, but I'm sure most of those people thought they were being sincere, which made it even more sad to me. 

I know what my place is.  It's here, in support of my family, friends, and coworkers.  I want them to have all of the rights that I have in society, and to be free from discrimination and harassment.  For me it's very simple. These are people I care about, and I want them to have good lives.  I want them to be able to care for and protect their families, I want them to be able to openly celebrate their relationships.  "Their place" should be the same as mine- a respectful, loving place in the larger society.  An equal place, not a partial token equality that is doled out by the self righteous when it's convenient and then withdrawn when those same folks become uncomfortable. 

I am still in awe that I was there on the Capitol lawn when the world shifted; becoming larger and more inclusive.  I was there to see the joy and tears of people who were finally seeing their relationships- their lives- recognized, after years of living on the sidelines and in the shadows.  What a victory for love, and for us all.  May it move us further into the light, and away from the darkness of separation and bigotry.  May it move us all towards freedom; the freedom to be who we were born to be, and to be loved and accepted in all our uniqueness. 

The Circle of Life

Last weekend I got to meet Tia, the beautiful baby in my arms in the pictures above.  Her mom Katie is my honorary niece, and I have known her for over twenty years.  I remember her being a feisty, articulate little girl, and now she is a grown woman with a child of her own.  Funny how the wheel keeps turning, the children keep growing, and suddenly there is a new generation of babies to hold.  Amazing.

It has been a long time since I last held a tiny baby.  My  youngest child is thirteen and came home to me at the age of eleven months, as a solid twenty pound baby.  My oldest is twenty now, and weighed in at five pounds, three ounces.  I remember being afraid to hold her and bathe her; afraid that she would break somehow while I learned how to be a mother.  I learned, and she didn't break.  She has gone on to attend college and learn all kinds of new things.   Holding Tia reminded me of when my kids were young, and frankly, when I was young. It took me a few minutes to remember how to hold her, but Tia is a good teacher, and I caught on quickly.  I spent much of the visit holding and feeding her, enthralled by the "tiny baby aura" that she gave off.  When she was sleeping, she looked just like one of the porcelain dolls on tv that sell for a mere four payments of 19.99.  So perfect, so innocent.

It never occurred to me when I was younger that I would one day be an "older relative", watching the children I had known transform into adults with babies of their own.  I never pictured myself past twenty five, yet here I am, forty seven years old and watching the new generation be born.  I"m grateful to have made it this far, thanks in large part to the amazing supports I had in my life as a young woman. Katie's mother was one of those supports.  She helped me find safe passage through many difficult times in my life, and taught me more than all my therapists combined.  I hope that I will be able to pass on a fraction of what she taught me to the younger women who surround me now, and I look forward to more years of holding beautiful newborns like Tia.  Tia is a vivid reminder that life continues to spring forward, forever new and precious as the wheel continues to turn.

Mason the Puppy

This is Mason, our newly adopted german shepherd mix puppy.  He is ten weeks old and has a sweet, mellow disposition.  So far the kids are loving the novel experience of helping to take him out for potty training and amusing him with toys and attention.  Getting ready for him was last having another baby, but this time the older kids were all able to play a part too- helping to "declutter"  the living room and set up his wire kennel, scouring the floor to make sure nothing was there that could be dangerous to a growing puppy that likes to chew.  Our spring cleaning this year was all courtesy of Mason.

Our former german shepherd Zena was very different than Mason.  She was a drill instructor keeping order in her troops, and a taskmaster.  She was also female, with very light coloring.  Mellow was not in her vocabulary. She was always on alert for any sign of danger, always keeping a safe perimeter.  She slept in front of the doorway, blocking all of us from any potential threat.  Mason goes with the flow. He plays, he goes outside, he sleeps.  He slept through the night his first night home without a whimper. He is ready and willing to play, but just as ready to sit quietly in your lap and rest.  He is adaptable to what is going on around him, and doesn't fuss.  A polar opposite of Zena, which is partially what we intended when we chose him.  We all loved Zena and miss her terribly. A similar looking dog might remind us of her, but it would never be her; while a dog that was a little different might be easier to love and accept for itself, and on its own terms.

I had forgotten how fun it is to have a new baby, and how exhausting.  I haven't had much sleep, but I am enjoying myself.  To Mason everything in the world is new- the snow in April, the large fenced yard, his new buddy Bear, our eight year old shitzu-yorkie mix.  He likes to play hard with our kids and collapse for a nap; then do it all over again.  Mason is a sweet and affectionate boy with irresistible eyes that say "pet me, pet me".   So of course we do, and we drink in all that pure puppy love.  It will take time to train Mason, and a fair amount of work.  But it will be worth it.  After all, it took time and work to teach my children what they know about life so far, and they have all turned out pretty well. I'm sure Mason will too. 

Live your Life NOW

The vibrant woman in the middle of this picture was a work friend of mine named Jackie. She was 63 and had recently retired after a lifetime of human services work.  She loved to camp and hike, and had two grown children that she doted on, as well as a husband she had adored for decades.  I never heard her say a cross word to anyone. She was always helpful and kind, and even when she was diagnosed with cancer, she kept smiling and walking forward into the unknown with her head held high.

I went to her wake this week.  The flowers and the the slideshow of her life were beautiful, and the room was packed. Jackie had an impact on many lives, and she lived her own life joyfully.  Jackie didn't have much time to enjoy her retirement.  She will never meet her future grandchildren, or travel to some of the exotic places she had planned to see.  But she lived the life she had.  She loved her family and her friends, and she relished all the small ordinary moments of her life until the very end.

It makes you think when you start burying your friends.  I am at that age now, where I attend far more funerals than weddings.  There are no guarantees in life.  You may work for thirty years and die shortly after your retirement.  You may never live to retire in the first place. I think what's important is to live the life you have RIGHT NOW, and do the things that call to your heart.  Don't wait to take a trip or start a hobby. Do it now.  You may not be able to afford something extravagant, and that's ok. Start small.  Buy yourself flowers when you want them.  Go out to lunch with your friends.  Take a class or take a risk- learn something you always wanted to learn.  I made a bucket list when I was close to forty, and some of the things I did were very simple. I learned to play cribbage. I went to Duluth and took pictures in the rose garden. I traveled outside of the country (to Canada) for the first time.  I self published my poetry and started writing essays, as well as taking up photography.  There are so many little things that can be such joyful experiences.

This year, after having heart symptoms and questioning my own mortality, I bought the new car I had wanted for years.  Last week I filled out an adoption application for a local humane society, and plan to look at a litter of puppies from that organization this weekend. I may not live to be 90, but in the meantime, I want to enjoy the companionship of another dog.  My previous dog Zena was a loyal and loving friend, and I want to enjoy a relationship like that with another dog that needs a home.  Planning for the future is fine, but living in the present is what can give us joy right now, and make our lives meaningful.

I plan to keep learning, and taking small risks. I push myself to talk to some of the people I meet at conferences or out in public, although I am a very shy person in many ways. I've made a point to tell my friends how much they mean to me, to remember their birthdays and ask about their lives, listen to their stories.  Sometimes we do things like riding through the countryside on motorcycles or sitting for hours in coffee shops talking.                     We steal away for a few minutes or a few hours at a time to be playful, to explore, sometimes to just sit quietly with each other and watch the sun set while we sit in an armchair. These are the moments that make life worth living.  I want to treasure every second I have with my friends and my family, store up all the memories for the inevitable days when some of them will be gone.  Life is like ice cream sitting in the sun. Scoop that bowl up and eat every drop before it melts away. Live your life now.

Connections

I haven't written much the last few weeks, and that has been partially due to some medical issues I've had. Specifically, I had some symptoms I thought might have been a heart attack.  It happened, of all places, in a car dealership while I was talking to a salesperson.  Ironic. I never imagined that my final moments might be looking at a room full of strangers and shiny new cars.  Everything was fine until suddenly both of my arms felt heavy and "tingly", and I felt vaguely sick;  like I was going to pass out.  My chest felt like someone had suddenly tightened up an already tight corset, but one that was on the inside of my skin, not the outside. I remember feeling mortified and confused. I had just taken a CPR class recently, and went through all the symptoms in my head of both heart attack and stroke, ticking off which ones I had and which ones didn't fit.  Usually it's only one arm, I thought, and the chest is supposed to feel like someone is sitting on it... or if it's a stroke, I should be confused and unable to talk...I debated in my head about whether or not the salesperson would be freaked out if I asked if they had a defibrillator on site.  I decided that he probably would be, and navigated myself to the nearest chair to sit down.  I don't know if he noticed that I was struggling. I spent about ten minutes toughing it out until I felt I could walk to my car, and then made an excuse and left.  Later I thought, what in the world was I thinking?  Why didn't I just say something?  I was just too embarrassed, too unsure of what was actually happening. I didn't want to make them feel uncomfortable and I certainly didn't want to be carted away in an ambulance when I had three children waiting at home.  I remember bargaining with God, saying it's not that I don't want to eventually join my family and friends in the afterlife, some of whom I miss terribly; but my kids still need me. I need to stay here.  On a more shallow note, I remember being angry that I would never get to buy my new car or get another dog, now that my elderly german shepherd was gone.  Funny what goes through your mind when you think your time is up.

Several days later I went to see my family doctor, after a call to the nurse line.  I went through an EKG, a chest X-ray, and two weeks later, a cardiac stress test. I am still waiting for the results of the stress test, but suspect that if there had been something terribly wrong I would have been notified already.   During all of this activity, I had to explain to my boss, a few select coworkers, friends and family, what had happened.  You learn a lot about connections when you tell people you think you had a heart attack.  My coworkers gave me a stern talking to about the fact that I hadn't sought medical attention immediately.  My husband was frightened.  Friends of mine who had had  heart issues in the past talked with me about their experiences.  My sister, an RN, called me regularly for the next several days to get updates on my condition.

The whole experience had an effect on me as well.  I felt that my body had betrayed me, that I couldn't trust it to do it's job.  I found myself wondering when I went into public places if anyone there knew CPR, and avoiding being alone in case the symptoms reoccurred.  I made a list of things I wanted to get done quickly, in case I didn't have much time left.  Again, funny what goes through your head when you think your time might be up.  I had a baby afghan for a friend that wasn't finished, a house to clean, some friends to tell again how much they meant to me.  I remember thinking the night it happened, after I got home, that if I was going to die I may as well have the dishes done first.  Priorities!

Three weeks later,  I've done a few of the things on my list. The baby afghan is almost done, the house is clean, I bought my shiny new red car.  I filled out an adoption application to get a german shepherd puppy in a couple of weeks, and I've had that conversation with some of my closest friends- the one about how much they mean, how much I've learned from them, how much I love them. I still have a few of those conversations to go, and I've started making a new list.  This list is a little different- it's a list of what I want to do if I continue to live, not a list of what to do before I die.  It's my way to stake my claim on this unpredictable, sometimes painful, but generally entertaining existence for a little while longer.  It's my flag, staked in the middle of my imperfect but still functioning heart.  I don't have any guarantees about how long my life will be, or what events will happen that are outside of my control.  What is within my control is whether or not I live the life I have, regardless of how long it is; and whether or not I share that life in a meaningful way with the people that matter to me. Life is a choice, connecting with others is a choice.  I would rather choose life, love, and connection than live in fear each day of what might happen around the next corner.