Endings and Beginnings

Love has a hundred gentle ends.  - Leonora Speyer

I am back home from Salt Lake City, glad to be back home, surrounded by so many of the people I love.  It was more difficult than I ever imagined to leave Nascar there.  I cannot wait for him to come visit for the weekend soon.  I will say that my man's shoulders are broader and he stands a bit taller now, and I like the way the new job looks on him.  I am proud that he chose to pursue his career path, and I am excited for him to have taken on this change and these new responsibilities with not a complaint and only excitement.

The city of Salt Lake was less inviting than I thought it would be.  The people are superficially nice, but there is a strange undercurrent of religion and white male oriented culture.  It has been a long time since I have been outside of my safe little bubble diversity that is the Bay Area.  I am afraid that moving there, I may become apathetic, perhaps a little lazy, about upholding my truths.  

I have spent the last 2 days wandering the city of San Francisco, being enamored with the graffiti, with the people, and the attitude that permeates our streets.  I am soaking it in, drinking it up, and participating in it as much as possible, because it is my plan to bring that spirit with me to SLC.  I will resist the apathy, I will remain true to my quest.  I will demand that the male salesman in SLC include me in the conversation, and not only direct their questions to Ryan.  I will interact kindly with all those I meet in SLC, but I will never lose sight of my truths.  I will not cry, be bored, or feel sorry for myself, because life has taken this interesting, albeit difficult turn.  I will prune my rose bushes, hike in the mountains, and read books that inspire my creativity and my passion.  San Francisco offers so much stimulation that I think I may have become somewhat apathetic here.  I think I may relish the slower pace and a chance to look for stimulation and insight inside books and within nature.

Buddhist Temple in the Mission

Bryant and 23rd Streets Girl Power

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While in Salt Lake City, Nascar and I went hiking in the SNOW.  Snow is this strange frozen stuff that falls from the sky and then hangs out on the ground making it slippery and hard to walk.  We walked up these things called mountains.  It was very different from experiencing nature via the windshield.  It was so freaking loud.  The rushing of the water, the sound of animals in the underbrush, made me so jumpy and uncomfortable.  I definitely have a lot to learn about nature and how to be in it.  

As I begin to say good bye to people I love here, I am beginning to realize that I do not have to say good-bye forever, but rather just a see you later.  It is my dramatic nature to see the endings as abrupt and final, instead of a refractory moment in time, placed right before a beginning.  In fact, a lot of life is like that.  The endings, no matter how hard, lead up to something new, something fresh.  The same people I have drank cocktails with in Mission bars, worked at SFGH with, shared homes with - all the people I love here - maybe they can come to me and if I get good enough at it, I can show off some Utah nature to them.  Perhaps together, we can giggle incessantly at the backward ways of the hardcore religious folk, and maybe our friendships will stretch the miles.

Nature hike

Ice Art

Nature Graffiti

Please Forgive Me For Speaking With My Mouth Full

I am sitting at at the home of friends, Notorious and Spanks, eating the yummiest pastor burrito and taking a break from house hunting.  My mouth is full of flavorful goodness, I am sheltered, and I am loved.  Once again, members of our adopted Surly family have overwhelmed Nascar and me with love and support.  As I expressed thanks to Notorious yesterday, he looked me right in the eye and said, "You would do this for us."  I want to believe I would...I want to believe I would.


As I begin to search for a job, a nagging thought keeps surfacing.  Utah is an extremely conservative place.  What if someone reads my blog and thinks I am certifiably crazy?  This is a downfall of sharing your thoughts on an open forum - you leave yourself open for judgement and criticism.  I often ask myself why I write this.  A writer that I admire, sends out weekly e-mails to subscribers, and he often asks himself the same question about e-mail entries.  Are people like he and I narcissists?  Am I know-it-all?  Is this my version of reality TV?


I actually got excited when my blog reached it highest number of readers earlier this week :  almost 50.  In some ways this is my reality TV, and this does give positive validation to my life.  As a woman who is plagued with depression/fatalist outlooks, I really believe I am learning how to re-write my perceptions.  True, I am initially scared/sad/overwhelmed by many if not all situations related to family, friendship, love.  Every time I write about one of these triggers, I work hard to remember it in the most positive way.   This helps me re-shape the experience into something good and gives me power to lead with my best foot and most hopeful perspective.  Jeanette Winterson says in her book, Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?, "I need words because unhappy families are conspiracies of silence.  The one who breaks the silence is never forgiven.  He or she has to learn how to forgive herself."  I feel that this blog is helping me forgive myself for my neurosis and my insecurities.  It is also aiding me in becoming more comfortable with EXACTLY WHO I AM RIGHT NOW, in a way that talk therapy set me up for, but could not cement down for me.

Right Now - with Leonard the Cat

Right Now Again

Jeanette Winterson also says, "When we write we offer the silence as much as the story.  Words are the part of the story that can be spoken."  As I re-read my last post, I read the story of a woman desperately trying to keep her big girl mentality intact, when all her inner child was really worried about was losing her brother - again.  The vestiges of co-dependency and family life without boundaries were so apparent,  but so also were the rebirth, the re-build, and the reunion of siblings.  I am proud of  my family.  We are all choosing the positive steps most of the time.  There is no savior in this group, just a bunch of people trying their best and to say the right thing at the wrong time, instead of continuing to be silent.  Some of the right things we are trying to say are:

"Please forgive me"  

"I forgive you" 

"Thank you" 

 "I love you."

I started that blog post commenting on the politics of being a woman.  I compared my need for birth control to someone else's need for end of life care.  I have become slightly worried that a potential employer, not aware of my impassioned nature, may read these statements as a risk for hiring me.  I feel the need to clarify the statement made:

 "I should not have to pay for you to keep people alive on machines because you believe the insurance companies owe you." 

I do not believe that most Americans believe the insurance companies owe them.  I do believe that many of us have no idea how much health care costs until it is too late.  According to a CBS news story, updated in 2009: 

                                   
                                    Last year, Medicare paid $55 billion just for doctor and hospital                                     

                                    bills during the last two months of patients' lives. That's more      

                                    than the budget for the Department of Homeland Security, or

                                    the Department of Education. And it has been estimated that 

                                    20 to 30 percent of these medical expenses may have had no   
                                    meaningful impact. Most of the bills are paid for by the federal 
                                    government with few or no questions asked. 

When I made the statement in my last post, it was derived from this knowledge.  I see first hand how much health care cost, and how often the outcome is still unevitable.  Death is one of our constants as humans.  As anyone's nurse, one of my goals is to assist you in understanding and being as present as possible with the situation you are in.  My other goal is to keep you alive, if a code situation occurs.  If you are non-verbal, almost comatose, and unable to care for yourself, I bathe you, I administer medications to keep your body at is best equilibrium, and I assist your family in coping with this change in the course of your life.  If you decide that you are done with the struggle of staying alive, then my goal to keep you comfortable becomes the primary goal.  As patients draw nearer to death, keeping them comfortable becomes much more difficult the more interventions we attempt.  Let's be clear, I will continue to and have always carried out my patients wishes.  I do believe that death is a sacred passage, however, and hope that more humans will recognize this, and take back control of their own passage.

As the Affordable Healthcare Act is being judged by our Supreme Court, the passions are getting heated.  Please forgive me for leading that last post with an inflammatory statement, instead of offering deeper insight.  I value the experiences I have had as a nurse, they color all of my actions as a daughter, as a sister, as a niece, as a wife, and as a friend.  I urge each of you to learn more about the state of healthcare, and to prepare yourself and your family for all the decisions that are yours to make in sustaining life in this first world country.  Should the mandate be passed, we will all be responsible for having insurance for our selves.  This will be difficult for those under-employed or not employed.  The Affordable Healthcare Act is a great first step in streamlining a very sloppy system.  The next step is for all of us to become more active in our health care provisions and recognize the options that exist for us.

http://www.thefourthings.org/

http://www.cbsnews.com/2100-18560_162-6747002.html?tag=contentMain;contentBody

http://www.DyingWell.org/

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=112931658

soundtrack today included Bjork, Ben Harper, Jeff Buckley, and PJ Harvey

The Nature of Things

During my first year with Nascar, learning to love the nature of things

International Woman's Month is March.  I am awkwardly introspective these days as a result of my bipolar emotional state about moving and as a result of the mockery that our media and the Republican presidential primaries are making of women's issues, especially reproductive rights.

I am in awe of the woman I have become - or that true maturation ever happened.  My formative years were spent focusing on appearance.  Even late into my twenties, I made most of my decisions based on what would look cool.  Being a young, slightly clever white woman, often appearances trumped necessity in my choices in those early years.  I have never moved anywhere for a job, I spent most of my twenties choosing to drink, party, and hang out, because I could.   It has only been in the last 10 years that I have truly learned what hard work is and what the struggle is to be a woman.  Putting myself through nursing school, re-establishing family connections that were almost shattered beyond repair, committing myself to a lifetime partner, have all been acts in discovering my womanhood.  Everything before truly was just child's play.

I watch with a true disappointment the argument about birth control in this country.  Being the child of born again Christian parents, I am all too familiar with the argument, "We should not have to pay for you to freely commit sins."  I counteract this argument with, "I should not have to pay for you to keep people alive on machines because you believe the insurance companies owe you."  This argument sounds too death panel -ish, so I choose not to lead with it.  Instead, I evoke images of myself 10 years prior.  I used birth control during a time in my life that I defined being cool as being successful.  And being cool meant being at the party more than anywhere else.  I will be forever grateful that God did not bitchslap me with a pregnancy at that time, thanks to birth control.  I am not grateful for me, but rather for the child that might have made it into my immature hands.

Preparing for this move to SLC is really opening me up to God's signs.  Two weeks ago, a red fox scampered in front of my car while cruising through Twin Peaks.  The fox is a family oriented animal, and one who uses camouflage to lead.  This little guy crossed my path to remind me to sit back and listen, rather than speak.  I am struggling with this, just as I struggle with being joyous in this transition.  Yesterday, Ryan saw a lynx on the outskirts of town, in SLC.  The lynx is a reminder of secrets to be discovered.  I am certain that the next set of lessons and secrets of being human await me as I embark on this journey to SLC with my love.  I am slightly disappointed at how hard it is for me to rise above the fear into the exaltation of getting a chance for a fresh adventure.

I fly to SLC today to check out the town, before moving there at the end of May.  Ryan started work on Monday, and we are looking at 2 months of living apart. Of course, this morning I am up at 4 am again, slightly petrified and slightly excited about this trip.  Irritation and fear loom at the outside of any moment for me.  The act of being joyous in the moment is monumental.  I almost immediately fall into a dull panic and a slight ache for what I will miss.  Leaving my nephew will be one of the hardest things I have ever done at this point in my life.  That kid has brought so much healing to our family, and created a bond that I thought would never exist between my brother and I.  I worry that the family closeness forged between my brother, my nephew, and I will be lost in the miles.

All I can do is promise to not disappear.  Your dad and I have figured out how to forge a relationship through some really tough stuff.  I will model that same esteem and perseverance to you.   Uncle Nascar and I will model healthy loving to you, too.  Things I look forward to sharing with my nephew include: I can't wait to Skype with you!  I can't wait to be your Auntie B who flies you to the country every year.  I will show you Zion Park, the Grand Canyon, and the Arches.  One day, when you are old enough, I will teach you about the power of fox, lynx, and help you discover your animal medicine.  Have faith in me little man, and I will have faith in myself, and not let either of us down.

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The alcohol abstinence experiment has been slightly altered.  I am finding it very hard to say good bye to my life here without the spirit of celebration.   For me, this will always include a good spirit.  After 3 months of sobriety, with  2 episodes of drinking - both inspired by stress, I am suspending the cessation experiment.  Rather, I am modifying it.  Instead of complete cessation, my goal is for wise moderation, and use of alcohol in the moment of celebration only.  Some ground rules:  2 drink maximum,  at least a pint of water between drinks.  This should preclude any binge drinking behaviors because they: a> cause hangovers, b> lead to severe depression in my soul, c> decrease my awareness of the magic within the moments.

To everyone who offered praise and encouragement, thank you.  I am not letting go of the change, but rather moving with it.  The act of turning down wine with dinner and feeling as though I do not want to go out, lest I be tempted to drink was becoming very heavy, especially when mixed with the fact that I am trying to meet up with old friends and say good bye to a life that I have spent the last 12 years building.  I want to celebrate, wisely.  I want to test my maturity level.  I understand the nature of this issue, now I need to test my self-esteem and self-wisdom.  I will invoke the Moose medicine to assist me on this path.  I am proud of my accomplishments thus far.  I am choosing to be gentle with myself a I embark further down this path of discovery, so I find myself joyous, not fearful, in love, not irritated.

Moose -Self esteem #11

You enjoy a job well done; you enjoy sharing your joy. You believe joy should be shouted with pride. Moose people have the ability to know when to use gentleness of a deer and when to activate the stamped of buffalo. They understand the balance of giving order to get things done and a willingness to do things themselves.

http://www.medicinecards.com/home.html

Bitchslap from God

Somedays I can easily see God in my mind's eye.  My meditations take me directly to that circus tent on the beach that I have decided is heaven.  God is there, waiting for me, laughing out loud and beckoning to me to bask in the glow that is belief and wisdom and faith.  Other days I search the bottom of a bottle of wine, beat my head against the wall and cry angry tears, because God cannot be found in any of the usual or unusual places.  It seems that just as my will to continue wilts completely, God bitchslaps me right side the head, reminding me that I probably did not need to be looking so hard.

A few weeks ago I wrote about looking for my Sweet Spot, a place where I find comfort and self-acceptance, without the need for alcohol to lubricate the search.  My search for the sweet spot has taken some wild turns in the last week.  In fact, I am having to start the no-alcohol experiment over again.  In the last week, I have had wine sodden conversations about life plans with Gabby, and I celebrated my husband's new job and and his impending exit from San Francisco playing pool in a pool hall and drinking PBR.  I am a bit bipolar these days: sad about leaving my friends and family, scared about going to a new place, worried about leaving a good paying job, stressed about the act of moving.  Nascar Pitcrew leaves in 3 days to Salt Lake City.  I will remain in San Francisco at Gabby's house for 2 more months.  Seems so strange to call it Gabby's house, I am in shock that this is happening.  It is an end of an era for me, and the beginning of a new one for Nascar and me.  This is the biggest re-set button yet.

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When I think about today's version of heaven, it includes a circus tent, colorful graffiti, and a favorite lady friend, Mrs. O.  This red-headed spitfire danced into my life 16 years ago.  In June of 1996, a lady dressed in violet, brushed past me in a doorway of a Las Vegas rave club.  She smelled like lavender, and she looked me right in the eyes.  All she said was "Good Evening".  I had no idea that this woman was destined to speak at my wedding or that I would visit her every year, no matter how many miles are in between us.

I have spent the last 2 hours ruminating on a fantastic tale to recount here about the creative relationship Mrs. O and I share.   Our friendship is delicate, yet durable.  Magical, though seeped in the mundane stuff of life like mortgages and career ladders.  There are moments of brilliance, surrounded by years of survival.  We have become the women we spoke about.  You are a mother, I am a wife.  It sounds so common, yet I pride myself that we have both found places of truth and strength in these traditional roles.

  Happy Birthday Mrs. O and Thank you.

Thank you for being a friend through so many growth spurts and growth reversals.

Thank you for all the long distance talks.

Thank you for your patience.

Thank you for reminding me to listen when God bitchslaps me with the truth.

Thank you for encouraging me to see the truth in the details.

I love you!

The Path We Refuse Is The Path We Should Choose

I am spending this afternoon listening to Dick Bolles, the author of What Color is Your Parachute, speak via livestream at the Socap Event Gabby is coordinating in San Francisco.  Nascar and I went to the Farmer's Market this morning and he is re-inserting a motor into his lovely Mercedes, Daisy, this afternoon.

I originally tuned into the Socap Soul Event to support Gabby, who has been working so hard lately scouting content for conferences like this one.  I was pleased to find that Mr. Bolles was the Keynote speaker.   I remember using this workbook back in 2000, hoping to find out what I should grow up and be.  At the time, I made money as a secretary and bartender.  I could make it to work on time, had fairly good customer service skills, (but very poor inter-personal skills) and I liked to stay up late.  These were probably my only 3 marketable skills.  When I moved to San Francisco, in early 2000, I did not know what the internet was, yet I was given a job as a receptionist at an on-line recruiting firm (Thanks Alexa!).  So funny to remember a world without laptops, Facebook, or a blog.  What I remember most was how scared I was of life leaving me behind those first few years in San Francisco.  But not scared stiff, only scared into action.  I started school again, became a volunteer for a homeless youth shelter, reunited with my brother.  In search of a career, I read that book with a vengeance and performed all the exercises, hoping it would help me find the path to being a grown up.  (I think, in a round about way, it did help, too)  

Mr. Bolles did not disappoint today as a speaker.  He is 84 years old and still very eloquent.  He re-writes his book every year.  The best piece of advice he gave was that God gives us all many skills and talents, but he gives a few skills and talents that we love.  The secret to finding success is honing in on what we are good and what we love, and intertwine them as much as possible.  It may be difficult in today's economy (10% unemployment is dire straits), but if it is a goal, one can always strive for it.

In the last month I have watched with a wife's pride, co-mingled with waves of sadness, as Nascar Pitcrew sets aflight on his parachute ride.  Yesterday, he announced he is accepting a position as a Life Support Operator for the Hogle Zoo in Salt Lake City, Utah.  U - T - A - H.

Nascar Pitcrew never read the book by Mr. Bolles, but he certainly is a man who has co-mingled what he loves with what he is good at.   His natural affinity to animal care, coupled with his mechanical mind (did I mention he just put a transmission part in the oven - who does that?) makes him a natural Zoo mechanic.  I certainly did not see this adventure as part of our mythology when I married him.  I am so proud of his cleverness, and in awe of his ability to set his mind to something and make it happen.  4 years ago a jobless and new to San Francisco Nascar Pitcrew said to me, "All I want to do is to build aquariums."  Within one week, he became a Life Support Operator for the Aquarium of the Bay in San Francisco.  For the the last 4 years, he has built and maintained tanks for sharks, jellyfish, and octopi.  Now, he is moving past aquariums to polar bear habitats, specifically maintaining a home for Rizzo, the polar bear at the Hogle Zoo in Utah.  I wish I could say I told you so, but I admit, one of my joys in life is being constantly surprised and amazed by all that he can do.

Rizzo the Polar Bear (photo from Salt Lake City Tribune)

Freshly Baked Transmission Whatzit

So as our hearts expand to include this lovely lady bear, Rizzo, into our lives, it does mean we have to move away from San Francisco and the sweet life we have here.  I type this and the tears are welling.  I  really will leave a part of my heart here in San Francisco.  My parachute ride started here, and I will always be grateful to this city for the inspiration it has provided and the friends that I have found.  From the joy of afternoon workouts and late night chats with Gabby, to dog walks and playa planning with Silvia, to Thanksgiving celebrations with Lex, to playing in the park with Noah and Tigh and enjoying the work with all my friends at SFGH, my life has been so full of love here.  I love the parachute ride I am on, and that the Golden Gate was where I ascended from.

Today's soundtrack:  Soul Is Your Face by DJ Barisone...truly an inspirational mix of tunes about love, about change, about the human soul....