Thoughtlets

Today's day trip reminded me a lot of life. Sometimes, daily living and adventures can parallel the greatest lessons in life; like a whisper, those lessons dance into my day and leave me with thoughts.

We went out to the Golden Gate Recreational reserve and visited a few historic sites. I am reminded how much I love old abandoned buildings. I can feel the energy of people and events passed. It's a blessing sometimes to be removed from my present and transported into the energy of the past; filled with people with their own sorrows and joys- so many the same as us living today.

I start the journey with this picture I took from an old Battery location on the Coast. This is a location built in 1905 to protect the SF Bay Area from warships and to fire cannons from which could reach as far as 8 miles out to see. I was transfixed by this door. What's inside? Who passed through these doors over 100 years ago? What conversations were had by these doors? I imagined the smell of cannon powder, perhaps cigarette smoke. How long ago were these doors shut to the world? And who was the person who finally shut them - forever...? Did he know he was shutting these doors forever?

Do we know when we have shut doors forever by our actions; the things we say, the things we do? Will someone someday be standing at those big heavy steel doors that we shut- wondering... what happened to you? What is inside? 

Ohhh...how I loved this next one. A narrow stairway up led me to this small room with several of these windows. This obviously faces the Golden Gate bridge. There is the same space to the right of this picture and two more behind, all facing out to see and north, up the coast. This small room must have been for armed fire by soldiers. This particular window reminded me so much of myself. Look through the window. See the perfect beauty outside- the picturesque hillside, the bridge, the lush trees. Then look at the jagged and ruined edges through which you are viewing such beauty. Like this window, I often view beauty in the outside world through a jagged edge; my perceptions, my bad experiences, my prejudices, my judgments...simply, my mankind. My own constructs. And those constructs can be confined to a small room where I only have windows to look out to the beauty. Have your perceptions of the beauty around you ever been confined to a small space in your mind and viewed through your jagged perceptions of life? The beauty is out there. No matter how, or from where, we look at it.

Point Bonita Lighthouse. I took this picture off of the rail of a small bridge and after about .5 mile from the parking lot. Point Bonita Lighthouse came to this location in 1877. It is still a functioning and maintained lighthouse. The suspension bridge does not allow for tourists and needs to be reinforced. This was about as close as we could get. Straight down is steep and intimidating cliff side. I have always loved me a good lighthouse. I think they are so romantic. Weird, right? They do hold some lore in American culture: the lonely wife pacing the lighthouse waiting for its' beam to guide her sailor husband home. Never knowing if he will come home from sea or if in fact he is still alive. It's the welcome warmth and refuge for men and women who have been away too long and a signal of protection from the dangerous cliffs of the coast. It is both a warmth and a protection. It is masculine in this way yet also feminine in it's longing. It is, as it's name says, beautiful.

To get to the lighthouse, part of the walk involves this tunnel. Yeeeesh, huh? Very dark (somehow I caught some good light in this picture), wet and dripping from the top throughout. Very eery. Not a place to chill at night in my book. But through this tunnel, the incredible beauty in this picture above. Ah- now isn't that a not-so-hard-to-figure-out parallel to life? Through the dark, dank, damp, dreary, scary, places of our minds we can be transformed to see the light, the beauty, the warmth and the welcoming of love and of sheltered protection. What is your light house? And what dark and looming tunnels will you need to traverse to get there...?

And finally, this. My new best statue sea lion friend. Hope s/he liked blond hair for lunch :-).

Where do your large iron doors lead? What are they keeping locked in- or...locked out? How do you look at life: all of its' beauty through a jagged window? Or face-to-face, ready for what it has to bring and outside of the small rooms of your mind? Do you have a beautiful light and warmth emanating from you to the people you love, as the lighthouse above? Are you a place of protection, warmth and refuge?

And finally, what tunnels do you need to pass through to reach any of these things? Tunnels of the mind, the body or the spirit? I encourage you to think about starting to walk through them. They are looming, foreboding, intense, dark. They are scary and unknown, full of twists and turns. 

But one step leads to the next. And before you know it, you are walking through- perhaps even sprinting.

In the end and on the other side...transformation awaits.

To Sing

There are some songs I truly love to sing. I have always loved music and I have always loved to sing. I think, as I get older- I am sounding better. That's curious to me. What I would love to do behind a mic. Maybe I will get that chance.

This is one of the songs I absolutely love to sing. It is meaningful, it is profound, it is simple and it is beautiful. It's right in my range, both the main vocals and the harmony. I always go for the harmony- I like the challenge :-D

This song is written from a man's perspective. An older man who has just lost his wife of 40 years and is coming home from her funeral. While I can't necessarily relate exactly to this, I can appreciate the humble nature of this man's thoughts and his deep grief and regret. I can appreciate that sometimes, we forget to see each other. I appreciate that this song is real; that it's about two people who have loved and lived, regretted and turned away.

I aspire to love better than this song...because after all, "Ain't nothing left at all in the end of being proud, With me riding in this car, and you flying through the clouds".

Truer Words...

You can easily judge the character of a man by how he treats those who can do nothing for him.  ~James D. Miles

 

I love this.

No long explanation. That is all.



Two Trees

Below is what I like to think of as an Insta-Blog. It's when I get something, or think of something and I know for sure that I need to process it and write about it. And now that I have a blog...well...whatta perfect place to do that.

So I got this quote in an email from someone. It was an answered prayer- a note truly from the mouth of God. I have since shared it with friends, re-read it many many times and now am writing about it. Simply put, it is incredible.

“Love is a temporary madness; it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of eternal passion. That is just being in love, which any fool can do. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Those that truly love have roots that grow towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossoms have fallen from their branches, they find that they are one tree and not two.” ~Louis de Bernieres

What resonates with me about this quote:

• The idea of all that love is not. All that love is not is passion/excitement/breathlessness. Any fool can do this. No one really talks about all that love is not. Just all that it is.
• The idea that one in love must ultimately come to a decision. That is so so SOO true. The passion of love will always subside. And when it does, the decision must be made.
• The idea that it is inconceivable that the person who you are in love with and you should ever part. Inconceivable. Not likely, or maybe, or sad or scary. Inconceivable. Like losing a limb. Simply inconceivable. That is love. There should be a Hallmark card that says that. It's perfection.
• The idea that love is what is left over after all has faded away. And it does. And it will. Love is what is left. Love is everything that is left.
• The idea that love is the ultimate and eternal entwining of tree roots. The tree to me is the ultimate symbol of perfect life. It always has been. I love to be near a tree, to stare at a tree, to be under a tree, to be on a tree and to listen to a tree. They are everywhere and yet each one is significant beauty and ultimate perfection. As is, I believe, love.
• The fact that the author used the word promulgation. I appreciate that word. "You had me at promulgation". :-)
• The fact that love is work. Doesn't that seem counter-intuitive? What? Love is work? I thought all the work was in getting someone to love you and then the work is over? Nope. Wrong. Fail. Finally having someone to love you means you have another person willing to work the rest of their lives with you to continue to want to love you. It's a choice; not a sand pit one falls into and can't ever climb their way out of. That's not love. Love is a willing and conscious choice. Everyday that choice must be made. Or not made.

I'm not sure this would have made sense to me several years ago. I might have thought that I'd soak up the passion and breathlessness and early years of love while I could and leave the rest to the old folks. But I have learned so much and grown so deeply in the last several years and can't begin to describe the meaning this quote has for me. I get it now. A tree may lose it's leaves during a storm. It may have branches that snap off, or even parts of its' very trunk that are damaged, depending on how harsh the storm it has to weather. But that tree will not be swept away if the roots go deep and strong (unless it's a really bad tornado but stick with me here, people...). The analogies are endless. My how life is but an imitation of nature.

I guess... I am now the old folk. If that means I am wiser and I am more aware of what love truly is, and what love truly is not, then I am grateful.

At the Table

Last night I attended a retirement dinner for the CEO of my company. He is retiring after 36 years. He is an accomplished, kind, brilliant man. And he gave me a warm smile and hug last night and welcomed me to his party.

He read during his speech the first stanza of the poem below.

If

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream -- and not make dreams your master;
If you can think -- and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings -- nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run --
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And -- which is more -- you'll be a Man, my son!

I welled up with tears. I felt that God put me in that moment to hear those words from someone I have always admired. I did not go to the dinner last night because I hold any great position in my company. I did not go because people I knew were going. I in fact went alone. I went last night because I will miss this man. I have been with my company going on 13 years and I consider that to be one of my biggest accomplishments. I have worked in medical records, reception, I've done cpr and comforted hundreds of people in crisis in the er and in our psychiatric hospital. And now I have the great pleasure of supporting senior level executives and physicians. I am blessed and I love my company.

The poem above by Rudyard Kipling can take a lifetime to understand and accomplish. And since I have gone 31 years without seeing it before, I've got some catching up to do. A few lines in particular hold meaning to my life right now:

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;

I think the hardest thing in betrayal is not learning to trust others. It is learning to trust yourself and also understanding another's doubt.

And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

There are moments when I feel I have nothing left. Whether it be a physical, emotional or intellectual challenge. But in this life, we don't get the choice of quitting. At least I don't acknowledge that choice. It is not an option. Holding on is the only choice.



If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you

Ok how is that even possible? Definitely a poem writting by a man for a man :-) I guess in this line, I want to say that it sounds wonderful. It sounds utopian of sorts to breeze through life not letting anyone hurt us. But is that really the measure of a Man? I would be willing to venture that it is most definitely not. I understand Mr. Kipling is likely eluding to the idea that we can only be hurt by someone if we allow it. But I believe the measure of the depth of my care for someone exemplifies how much they can hurt me. If you are a foe, you cannot hurt me. What makes me have the capacity to love is the vulnerability that my love allows for hurt. If I care about someone, they can hurt me. If I don't, they can't. I am not sure I ever want that to change.

Last night the honoree was surrounded at his table by his wife, two children, his assistant and his wife's family. Sitting next to him was not his closest colleague, nor his boss (if he had one), nor his best friend. Sitting next to him were the people in his life he cherishes the most. His family. I respected him 1,000 times more as I saw pictures of him raising his family; hiking Half Dome, hiking Mt Whitney and taking an 8 day camping trip through the Colorado Rapids. This is a man who achieves what he believes. I am sure he has had pitfalls and miss-steps and that he has been wrong a time or two in his life. But he has achieved being a father of two beautiful grown children. He has achieved being a man who built a sleepy community hospital in the 1970's into a premier hospital system that spans the East Bay and is nationally recognized. He has achieved being a husband.

I began to examine my metaphoric retirement table. Who it sitting with me? Who is missing? Who is at your retirement table? Who, at the end of your career, do you want celebrating your life with you? My answers came to me very clear.

I knew at once that the road to that table will be long and hard. I will have a few Half Domes thrown in and a Mt Whitney or two. But back to Mr. Kipling: "If" I can trust in God and in myself, "If" I can 'hold on', "If" I can be vulnerable then my table will once again be filled with love, life, laughter, celebration, family and achievement.

Thank you and congratulations, Mr. Anderson.

 

A Meditation on Neckties

"Stars in the purple dusk above the rooftops,
Pale in the saffron mist and seem to die,
And I myself on a swiftly tilting planet,
Stand before a glass and tie my tie"- Conrad Aiken

My boss stood talking to me today and I glanced down at his necktie. He often has attractive neckties and I believe I am familiar with most of them. I especially like it when he wears the one I got him for Christmas. I glanced down at his tie and I saw one I did not recognize. It was beautiful. It was a mix of spheres with a diagonal soft design brushed over them. The colors were pastels and as usual, went well with his collared shirt. I said "I like your tie! Is it new?" and he looked down at it, said thank you and said he had no idea. He said he reached in his closet and it was there. His wife has very good taste :-)

Seemingly independent of that conversation, I began to free associate a bit while taking minutes in my night meeting this evening. I looked around and noticed among the professional men who attend this meeting that several of them wear neckties. I must say that I found that absolutely adorable. I remember when my father used to wear ties for business a long time ago. He stopped that as I grew older and as his job required less formality. But I found the idea of the necktie so sweetly old fashioned. It made me feel ... somehow- happy to be in this group of wonderful, intelligent, caring, compassionate yet astutely business wise group of people. I have always said I love my job but what I love most are the people. The professionalism- the follow through. The people I work with have never let me down. That is a gift.

But back to the neckties. I imagined a young man learning how to tie a tie from a parent. Likely, a father. I have never been a man nor have I ever learned how to tie a necktie. What must that conversation be like for a young man? Is it a time of bonding or kind of just a necessity like learning to tie one's shoes?

Then ... the idea of a grown man repeating those steps learned so long ago as a child is so romantic and beautiful to me. It's so vulnerable and real. I suspect most of the time it's a pain in the neck (really, folks- the humor here is free!), but I wonder if a man ever thinks back to the person who taught him how to tie his necktie. When I ride a bike, I often think of my mother who taught me. I wonder if it's the same idea.

In the end, yeah- I get it. They're freak'n neckties. But they are a sign of respect. A sign of stature and nobility. I actually Wikipedia'd neckties and read up on them tonight. Did you know IKEA employees are forbidden to wear neckties? Hmph. The Swedish.

Whether they're a skinny tie to match (God forbid) skinny jeans (a trend on men I am eager to see die a painful death), a holiday tie, a ghastly gift tie or a super sweet one like the one my boss wore today, I like ties. I find them vulnerable, but strong. The idea that a man put time and effort into doing all those bizarre loopty-loops they do to get this fabric to hang off their neck and down their shirt is special to me. I like the intricacy and the understated attention to detail. I like the formality for the sake of tradition and respect. I like how when a necktie is all loosened up at the end of a day it is symbolic for a long day worked and a time for relaxation. I like that a tie says "I am someone" or that it says "I feel like I am someone". 

I like the necktie.



Titles

I have sat down to begin a blog. In the past, and quite honestly, I have always found blogs to be a bit self indulgent. I have kind of tisked at them in the judgemental part of my mind thinking: "really? all that time consumed on reporting the thoughts of one's self?". This from someone who basically consumes myself with the thoughts and needs of others. It just didn't make sense to me.

And I think that has been a problem. I think what I haven't been prepared for is the completely necessary need of immersing one's self in - well, themselves. There are folks out there who truthfully only know themselves and don't have either the life's experience or the knowledge to be interested in much beyond that. I probably was one of those folks a few years ago. It's hard not to be without any true genuine responsibilities or traumatic life events' history to draw on your character and begin to make you empathetic towards others. But once those things hit ya- it really begins to be all about everyone else.

Which...is fine. And it's good. And it's necessary. But maybe this blog can actually be (insert shock here): about me. My experiences. My hopes. My dreams. My fears. My sadness. My happiness. My regrets. My triumphs. Even just writing all those incomplete sentences that begin with "My" actually makes me break out in a cold sweat. As a mother, and as a wife and woman in American society- we're not really allowed those thoughts. Our thoughts and actions must rotate around the needs and desires of others. I do not disagree with this. It is the way I want to live my life. But maybe I can carve out a little corner of the Internet world for ... just me. Maybe I can look forward to a little time every now and then recording a few things about ... just me. I don't really know how that will settle with me. I think I will still be afraid of that concept for awhile. So it's quite possible this will be my only post. But it's also possible I will grow to enjoy that idea and come back around these parts just a few more times. :-)

A little about my blog title: in simple summation, I can't think of one. I don't yet have a quippy, witty, cute or incredibly wise and introspective title to sum my life into three or four words. I tried to leave it blank but instead Blogger returned to me the words I decided to place in the field: Required field must not be left blank. So funny to me...a website telling me that the title of my life must not be blank. Like right now, I have to have it all kind of figured out. Or that I have to at least put in a temporary place holder title until the "real" title to my life steps up. "Will the real title to Destiny's life please stand up?"

I am sure it will. And when I hear it I will know it and if I have any readers, they will too. But for now...I am happy leaving it the way it is. I actually think it's kinda clever. If I do say so myself. And since this is my blog, I do. Ah...getting the hang of this.

Today is a good day in my life. It is a day in which I am breathing, I am healthy and I am alive. It is a day in which most everyone I hold dear and closest to my heart is doing the same. But it's also a day when I sense more. I sense there is more to be done. There are people who need me; who need my help. My hands, my feet, my smile and my kindness. I have sensed that for some time. My prayer is to be led to those people and give of myself everything I can.

I am heading very shortly into an completing my BA. I should be enrolled any day now and I am over the moon with excitement. I never completed it at SF State and it is well beyond the right time. My chosen educational path is so that I can be of service to others in a psychological arena. When I was in my early twenties...I used to stress- yes, actually stress- that I would not be a good therapist for lack of life's experiences. Everything was so easy for me up until about 28. Everything was so happy and I was so naive. Relatively speaking, and compared to true suffering, I am so blessed to be able to say that I still believe I am. But what will make me good at what I choose to do is the empathy that I have for other's sufferings. I am so drawn to the healing of other's minds and hearts. It is a blessing and it is a curse.

As I listen to the sound of the wind, my chimes, the fountain, the pattering of a few birds' feet on my deck and the traffic in the distance- I am so anticipatory. I am anticipatory of my future. Of my life. Of recovering and of blessing. Of forgiveness and of mending. Of seeing my baby girl's smile today and embracing my family. My single friends will tell me how lonely their lives are; when they are being honest and in their quiet moments, that is what they confide in me. They tell me it is lonely, and hard and difficult. I have not been single since I was 21 years old. And barely a year was I between relationships even then. I am so blessed. I am so loved.

My prayer for any and all of your reading this today is that you may be loved as well. Deeply, thoroughly and without limitations. God's love in unlimited. But if you are blessed to find human love that comes even a tenth of the way close to God's love...and (this is the key), you can accept that love, you are blessed. I think the hardest four words in the English language are: I Am Worth It.

But you are. And so am I. And what are we doing talking about YOU in MY blog anyway? Sigh...back to my old ways... :-)
Blessings.