Adrian

Recently I joined a marketing group called BNI. We meet weekly and set aside a few minutes every week to mingle and talk informally about our businesses. During the mingle time last week I noticed one of the gentlemen was wearing a large class ring with the letter “A” on it. A few years ago I would have had a lot of judgments about a 40 something year old wearing a school ring. However, I have done a lot of work to rid myself of prejudices --- including an old and unwarranted bias against jocks, so this time, it was just something I noticed.

Yesterday, this gentleman and I met for a "One-to-One" to learn about each other’s businesses so that we can give better referrals.

He walked with a slight limp which I assumed came from a football injury. He shared that he had played football at Adrian College. But contrary to my presumption, the leg injury occurred later. About 13 years ago he was involved in a serious motorcycle accident and ended up in a ditch with his femur sticking out into the air. Somehow he mustered up the strength to crawl out of the ditch; and as life would have it, a World War II veteran was passing by and rushed to his aid. Together they tied off the leg to prevent more blood loss. The veteran said he had seen many people in the war with lesser injuries who did not survive.

As I listened to this story it occurred to me that the football training of his youth had saved his life. I now saw the class ring in a new light, as an affirmation of life itself. I pointed to the letter “A” on his finger and said "This ring saved your life." (Turns out the word Adrian means "strong" in several languages.)

Today on the drive up north Barnaby and I listen to Friday Night Lives, an NPR series on high school football for the 2009 season. I am reminded of my football player friend and am grateful to all those football coaches and players out there who show us how to survive and persevere.

Loyola

A few weeks ago our friend Joanna was visiting from L.A. We met downtown Ann Arbor and had a nice leisurely stroll around campus and eventually ended up adjacent to the law quad. As we walked by she said "Every time my father walks near the law school he still feels sick to his stomach --- and he graduated in 1951."

Hearing this reminded me of how grateful I am to have attended Loyola University Chicago School of Law. Although law school in general is not much fun, I greatly appreciate having gone to a school with a focus on collaboration and cooperation. The charge to us students was that being a lawyer means being of service. The question we were asked is “How are you going to use your law degree to make the world a better place?”

Today, as I sit in a lawyer’s office and align myself with the collaborative divorce process, I again affirm my gratitude for the training I received at Loyola, where this type of approach was the norm.

In writing this blog I went to the websites of both University of Michigan and Loyola to find their mission statements. Here is what I found:

• Loyola University Chicago School of Law is a student-focused law center inspired by the Jesuit tradition of academic excellence, intellectual openness, and service to others. Our mission is to educate diverse, talented students to be responsible leaders in a rapidly changing, interdependent world, to prepare graduates who will be ethical advocates for justice and the rule of law, and to contribute to a deeper understanding of law and legal institutions through a commitment to research, scholarship and public service.

I was unable to locate the mission of U of M's law school.

In retrospect, I am honored to have been accepted at both of these schools and I am glad I chose Loyola. It was a much better fit for me.

Inbox

Today Barnaby and I sat down to go through “The Mail Bag.” Over the years this has become easier and easier as we have fewer and fewer pieces of mail. One of the reasons we have so little mail is that we no longer own a home or rent an apartment, so this cuts down on the bills we receive. But the big change really occurred when I decided that I no longer wanted any junk mail.

I went on a crusade to eliminate unwanted mail. This decision was the result of taking classes at our local spiritual centers which raised our awareness about our mental inbox. I figured if it was important to be conscious of my thoughts, then it was also important to monitor what was coming into our physical mailbox.

Every time we receive a piece of mail that we do not want I set it aside and make a phone call. I have a spreadsheet and log every call. That way if we do not stop receiving mail after 4-6 weeks like they tell me, then I can call back and have a record of when I called and who I spoke to previously. We are on a no mail list and the “Opt Out Department” for credit card applications.

 

Over time the unwanted mail has dwindled, but just like my thoughts, this takes ongoing attention. I am grateful for the new awareness of my thoughts and the power to choose what goes into my inbox.

What is in your inbox?

6 Harmonies

Today was my first time at a Zen center. I had received an email from the Interfaith listserv about a special guest coming to the Ann Arbor Zen Temple on August 16^th. The idea of attending a Zen service intrigued me, especially since two of my prayer partners are involved in Buddhist practices.

Barnaby was willing to go, so we made an adventure out of it. I was surprised to learn that the Zen Temple has been in Ann Arbor since 1981. Another aspect of life I was not aware of when growing up here in the 80’s.

Everyone at the Zen Temple was friendly and helpful in answering our questions. I especially enjoyed the dharma talk on the 6 Harmonies, which are the principles for living harmoniously in a group.

One of the 6 Harmonies is speaking without conflict and was described as speaking from the heart. This topic is particularly relevant to me as I am actively promoting the use and practice of Marshall Rosenberg’s Compassionate Communication process (also called Nonviolent Communication). So when I realized that I was a week early for the special guest speaker I knew that I was right on time for what I needed to hear today.

I am grateful to know that I am always exactly where I need to be.

Rainy Day Possibilities

Today is a beautiful rainy day. It has been raining steadily all morning and I was relieved because it meant that we could just relax and see what the day brings as opposed to running out and working in the yard. It was like having a bonus day or a snow day where all previously scheduled activities are suspended.

I wanted to do my blog so I came downstairs to get the computer. Judy asked what I was going to write about and whether or not I was feeling inspired. She offered the idea of the day being full of possibility given that it was raining. She said she felt inspired to make crepes with her bonus time. For toppings she made fresh applesauce and blueberry sauce from the fruit she bought at the Holland Farmer’s Market. She heated a bottle of syrup and a jar of Brownwood’s Famous Cherry Butter, which is one of my all time favorites.

While we were waiting for the batter I wrote thank you notes and worked on my blog. Barnaby rested from his medical procedure and Richard was under the house working on the ventilation. We were each doing our own thing at a nice natural pace and when breakfast was ready we gathered at the table.

I started with the blueberries because of seeing the PBS broadcast of “Change Your Brain, Change Your Life.” Then I moved to the applesauce, then the cherry butter and finally to syrup for my last crepe. A perfect day so far and it is not even noon. I am grateful for how this day unfolds.

I AM

In setting my intention today I started with the words “I am…”

I waited for something else to follow but nothing else came so I concluded that my intention for the day was simply to be. Not to be this or that, but just to be.

The day progressed and I accomplished about one half of the tasks on my to do list. I told myself it was ok since my intention for the day was to be (not to do).

In the evening I went to the Chelsea Wellness Center where I opted for the warm pool rather than the exercise bike or the treadmill --- or the cold pool! Whenever I am in the warm pool I face the deep end so I can look out at the trees and I usually repeat an affirmation as I do my exercises.

Today rather than affirming I am this or that, I decided to just repeat the words “I am.” This had a calming affect and I ended up focusing on one tree in particular that seemed to represent my intention/affirmation for the day. It was the tallest tree I could see with the darkest and largest trunk. Silent, still and strong.

When I was done exercising I felt more grounded and connected to these qualities in myself. I am so grateful to be back in Michigan where I am always surrounded by trees.

Affirmation: I revel in my beingness.

Trust

A few weeks ago I lead the Fear to Faith Process for some teenaged girls. One of the great things about this process is that everyone can be working on their own issue and no one else needs to know the issue being worked on --- not even the facilitator. The participants may choose to share their issue, but there is no expectation that they do so.

As I was guiding the young women through the process I decided I would take the opportunity to apply it to myself. The issue I chose to address was the anxiety I was feeling about the upcoming listing of my business in the Crazy Wisdom Community Journal. I took notes as we went along and when the process was complete the word “Trust” was my keyword.

I confess that I put my piece of paper who-knows-where and essentially forgot all about it. Until yesterday when I was doing another technique that took me to the concept of Trust around a different issue. Of course, not remembering the earlier Fear to Faith process, I thought this was new! Immediately afterward I found the paper with my notes and I was surprised to see Trust as my keyword.

It seems that whenever I am developing myself in a given area, I get the same message or reminder or lesson from many different places. No matter how many times I have experienced this, I am still amazed.

Affirmation

When Barnaby and I moved to FryFarm in February, there was a painting of a sleeping child hanging in our bedroom. It is a beautiful image and reminds me of summers in Northern Michigan. The fact that I like the painting made it harder for me to accept that it seemed out of place in our bedroom.

During this time there was also a painting resting on the steep steps of the stairs that lead to our bedroom. Because of its position, I hardly ever noticed the painting even though I walked by it several times each day. Months went by. Barnaby and I made our vision board which contains many images of flowing water. And still I failed to notice the waterfall painting on the staircase.

One day we were inspired to clear the stairwell. I picked up the waterfall painting and walked it up the stairs. I took the sleeping child and moved it to the guest room where it seemed to belong. In its place I hanged the waterfall painting. Everything clicked. It was perfect.

Now each morning I awake to the picture of a waterfall --- powerful and flowing. I am reminded that everything around us is an affirmation of something and we are at choice as to what we affirm. So I am more careful about the things that surround me. Right now this waterfall is the perfect affirmation for me. I am grateful for the painting and the space to place it.

Waitress Mediation

The other day I was driving to Charlevoix to meet with my business advisor. As I drove into town, I turned my head toward the water looking for the Parkside Restaurant, which I knew was no longer standing. If you want to know what it looked like see Parkside Restaurant by Sue Bolt.

I felt a strange sense as I recalled the years of working there, first as a salad girl, then a hostess and finally a waitress.

During my time at the Parkside I mediated many disputes. The most common conflict was between the teenagers sitting at the table with music blaring through their headphones and the parents who wanted them to participate in the family dining experience.

Somehow, I understood both sides and I naturally asserted myself into these conflicts. Perhaps my most daring act involved a quiet fight between two sisters. One of the sisters left the table, went outside and sat on a bench crying. When the time was right I sat down and talked with her. Then I returned to the dining table and spoke with the other sister. The details are hazy now, but eventually I brought the sisters together and they met with hugs and tears.

Even as a little girl I found myself acting as an intermediary, especially in the times when my parents were married but lived separately. Now, as I “begin” my career practicing heart-based conflict resolution, I realize that I have been doing this my whole life. In my childhood, in those moments when no one was looking, I was doing something I had never even heard of.

The beauty of children is that they can be at their very best when they are simply being themselves. I reclaim this gift now and am grateful for the opportunities I have to truly be myself.

Summer of Self Care

Photo by Brent Sherman

This week we have 15 family members staying in the summer cottage. Given the demands of a wedding and rehearsal dinner which are both taking place at our house, and the number of people under one roof, it is especially important that we take care of ourselves.

Self Care is a hot topic right now. When I was in Chicago for the Celebrate Your Life Conference I watched people swarm around Cheryl Richardson to talk about her new book “The Art of Extreme Self Care.” At the time I didn’t see the attraction to her work, especially since Barnaby and I are not caretakers to children or anyone else and because we have been focused on Self Care for the past several months. However, now that I am around the busyness of my family I am reminded how important Self Care is. For me, Self Care means going for a walk, stretching, meditating and talking with my prayer partners. It also means drinking more water and less alcohol, which, in this social environment, takes a conscious effort.

I have decided that Summer of ’09 at the Gerrity Cottage is the Summer of Self Care. I am giving out “gold stars” when we demonstrate a self loving act, such as my mom lying down for a rest, my niece doing her journal, my brothers going to play golf, etc. And even though I want Barnaby to be hanging out with me on the deck talking ‘til all hours of the night with the folks on “The Ridge” (as we call our little neighborhood on the lake), I am happy to see him go to bed early when he needs to.

Self Care requires listening to what I need and acting upon it. Sometimes it can be a challenge to carve out the time and space to listen, but I am always happier when I do and I am grateful for the support I receive in taking care of myself.

Navy Seal Wisdom

Today I called my mother’s doctor to inform her I was concerned about my mother’s health. I believed my mother was not getting the rest she needed to heal the radiation burns on her legs and every time I recommended more rest, she said that it didn’t make any difference. So I was taking my case to her doctor, but first, I had to get through the receptionist.

I explained to the receptionist that my mother would respond to a doctor’s order, such as an order for rest in the afternoon or to stay off her feet after a certain number of hours. The receptionist took the message and said she would give it to the doctor.

This call to the doctor’s office was the latest of my attempts to stop the busyness of mother’s life and create time and space for her to rest and heal. I was feeling frustrated and overwhelmed by my mom’s unwillingness to go along with my plan.

I decided to stop by the yacht club to see Barnaby. Instead I found Chuck Pfarrer sitting at a table with his portable office. He was exactly the person I needed to see.

As a cancer survivor, surely he knew the correlation between rest and healing. I thought I would enlist him in my efforts to get my mother to rest more. But the conversation took many turns as he artfully and skillfully and humorously took me down a road toward realization and compassion.

First it was established that my mother is now able to sleep at night with the help of her new medications. This, he said, was crucial. Then he questioned whether her condition was getting worse. Well, no, not exactly, I admitted.

Next he had me consider my mother’s baseline. As an example he asked how many times my mother had taken a nap in her lifetime. Hmmm. Good point. I recall my mother taking a nap in the 70’s when she had 4 young children and was going to school full-time to get a college degree. I conceded she rarely took a nap. That is her baseline he said.

Ok, I get it. My request is unrealistic given her baseline. An unenforceable rule as Dr. Luskin would call it, and it was only causing me grief.

I started crying and Chuck sat across from me, behind an opened steel brief-case. He said, I am holding your hand here. Without actually reaching over the table and taking my hand, I knew he was. Chuck, a big, strong Navy Seal, who had lived through countless military operations and medical procedures, was lovingly walking and laughing me through the grief.

Then he had me consider that everyone deals with recovery in their own way and that for some, like himself, the best way is to stay busy and active and not sit on the couch.

I wanted my mom to read about the law of circulation so that she would slow down and allow herself to receive, but Chuck was telling me about how some people just feel better when they are giving and doing. And, he said, this is her comfort zone.

In the end I knew he was right, my mother was doing the best she could and I was the one who needed to relax! Thanks to Chuck, I left the yacht club without my unenforceable rule. I am so glad I followed my instinct to stop by. I thought I was going to see Barnaby and get help for my mom. Instead I found a Wise Warrior Soul and got help for myself.

Birdsong

While I was at the Celebrate Your Life Conference on Sunday, I used my lunch-break to take a walk. As I approached the main intersection I felt something was amiss and I heard a strange sound buzzing in the air. I looked around to see what was making the noise.

When I reached the corner I stopped and listened. It sounded like an electrical buzz and at first I thought it was the traffic signal. Eventually I discovered the sound was coming from the birds.

I continued to listen. It seemed as though the birds were singing the song of the traffic signal --- working together and amplifying it.

I was shocked. I know birds are mimickers (recent house-sitting experience reminded me that birds sing the song of car alarms and other electrical devices) but somehow this seemed over the top.

At first I felt a bit sorry for the birds and then I realized we are not much different --- picking up the sounds around us and amplifying them. As I walked away from the intersection, I reminded myself of the importance of finding and singing our natural song.

This morning I am happy to wake at the FryFarm. Out here on the county line, we have no internet or cell reception. Very little electrical interference. I enjoy the sounds of the birds and I can be still and hear my own song.

I am grateful for Rickie Byars Beckwith who reminds me there are songs inside each one of us.

Celebrate!

I recently returned from the Celebrate Your Life conference. This was my first time attending the conference. In February, when I received the brochure in the mail, my immediate reaction was to throw it away. We had just arrived in Michigan and as far as I knew, no one had our address. “Celebrate Your Life?” I had never heard of it before and have no idea how I got on the mailing list. Frankly I was a little bothered since I have spent the last several years eradicating unwanted mail.

But somehow I resisted the urge to discard the brochure. I opened it and began reading about some of the authors who would be presenting. Michael Beckwith. He is one of my favorites. Debbie Ford, I love her work. Hmmmm. I didn’t know the other authors and the price seemed prohibitive, but something told me to hang onto the brochure. So I put it back in the mail bag and there it sat.

A couple of months passed, and eventually I picked up the bag and went through the papers. I found the brochure and this time I had a feeling it would be important for me be there. I thought about it for a while and then picked up the phone and made the financial commitment.

This conference was an amazing experience --- one that has catapulted me into greater awareness and celebration of myself and all of life. I had so many wonderful realizations, revelations and insights. I am so grateful to have received this brochure. I now believe it was one of those divine gifts and I am glad that I listened and allowed myself to accept it.

Daisy

This morning I took a walk in whatever green I could find near the Yorktown Shopping Center outside of Chicago. I am here for the Celebrate Your Life Conference. Fortunately there is a lovely little pond with tree-lined banks at the neighboring Baptist Seminary/Conference Center. [For a second I thought the sign said Buddhist Conference Center because I could only see the “ist” and there was a beautiful contemplation tree that reminded me of where the Buddha awakened.]

The area where I walked was abundant with pinecones and daisies. I looked at the daisies and thought about the game I used to play as a girl, “He loves me, he loves me not.”

Now this games seems so foreign to me: the belief that there is any truth to this game, that there is any power in it, or that nature of life would be so fickle. What I have learned about Life (or God or the Universe or whatever you want to call it) is that it is always loving --- not just sometimes, on certain days or under certain conditions, but all of the time. I don’t have to ask it as a question “loves me?” I know that it is true. And I am extremely blessed to have this in my relationship with my husband where I receive constant unconditional love.

I pick my daisy and carry it back with me to the Westin where my Conference is being held. I was happy to hear the panelist, Elizabeth Lesser, say that there really is no difference between the best-selling authors on the stage and the people in the audience as each one of us, if put on the stage, has incredible wisdom to share. This too I know is true. I am grateful for the reminders of truth everywhere I go.

Best Friend

The other day in the car, Barnaby was telling someone about a particular SNL digital video which we love so much. He said my best friend’s kids made the video. I noticed myself starting to object to the term “best friend” but I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to distract from the point he was making. Best friend? This is not how I would have described a person who is not my own age and who I have only seen a few dozen times. What was my objection to him saying that my prayer partner was my best friend? We have been talking on the phone 3 mornings per week since January of 2004 (in the beginning we spoke 5 days per week). We have shared the most intimate details of our lives. She knows practically everything about me and always sees and knows the best for me. I paused on that thought. She knows the best for me. She sees it when I cannot see it myself. Yes, I concluded, she is a best friend. I have more than one prayer partner and I am grateful to have a life full of best friends and people who know the highest and best for me. Sometimes my best friend is my mother, sometimes it is my husband, or brother, or teacher, or sometimes it is even me…

Redneck

Last night for Barnaby’s Birthday Dinner we sat down to a table of fresh fish caught by his brother, fresh arugula from his mother’s garden and the wonderful pie made from the neighbor’s rhubarb.

Barnaby wanted his birthday meal to be as homegrown as possible --- made from the efforts at the FryFarm in Michigan and the family cabin on Gull Lake in Minnesota.

I could not believe that I had anything to do with the tasty salad we were eating. Barnaby’s mother reassured me that this was the very same arugula we planted a few weeks ago.

When I was working in the garden, with the sun on my neck, I began contemplating the term redneck. Redneck was a word I used to describe a person from the country, like a hick. It was intended as a put-down to describe someone who I thought didn’t know anything.

But time has a way of changing perceptions. After living in California for the last 9 years I have grown to appreciate local and slow food. California also gave me the chance to work with farm laborers and their families and introduced me to a new State Holiday.

Now I find the term redneck endearing. A word of high praise for all who are involved in our food production. To me, redneck now conveys a sense of self-sufficiency a la Emerson and Thoreau.

Apparently my “new view” is part of a growing trend (as reported in the book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle). But when I sit in the hot-tub at the Chelsea Wellness Center and listen to the women talk, this is the way they have been eating all along --- meats from their own animals, vegetables from their gardens, canning their produce for the winter, etc. They don’t buy much from the store and they don’t need a book to teach them about it since it is something they already know. And I thought they didn't know anything.

The Pies that Bind Us

I first discovered the sanctity of pie after I moved to Traverse City, Michigan in 1994 and began doing work in the UP. (That’s the Upper Peninsula for those of you who don’t know Michigan.) I loved the ritual of afternoon pie and coffee. Time to slow down, take a break, be with others and reflect on the day. A well needed pause.

Pie is fairly popular lately with TV shows like Pushing Daisies and movies like Waitress. I expect the resurgence of interest in pie is a longing for the “old days” when people had time to bake and sit around and talk over a piece of pie. In our neighborhood in Oakland, California, a bakery moved in and was selling fresh pies for $25 each. It is so popular they are opening a second location.

For my husband’s family, pie is sacred. I have heard the stories about his uncle who knows every piece of good pie between Kearney, Nebraska and Vail, Colorado. This is more than just knowing the pie stops, he has taste-tested every place. I have witnessed Barnaby’s mother running out to the garden and then surprising us minutes later with fresh rhubarb pie. The power of pie has been known to get this family into the car instantly upon mention of the word. Pie breaks gender barriers as the men and women of this family are equally good at making and eating pie.

Last night, after our 14½ hour drive from Michigan to Minnesota, we were greeted with dinner and two kinds of pie --- an apple and a banana cream, both of which were made by Barnaby’s uncle. Tonight Barnaby’s mom and I make a lemon meringue together. And tomorrow we will be having another kind of pie for Barnaby’s birthday. See pie charts attached below for pies of years past. I told you, this family takes pie seriously.

So what’s the point? When I was walking this morning, it occurred to me that pie covers the 5 Languages of Love:

• Words of affirmation: Thank you for the pie, I love it! It is so good. You are wonderful. ☺
• Quality time: Time spent making the pie together; or enjoying the pie together; or talking and sharing while one person is making the pie (or calling your mother for the recipe!)
• Receiving Gifts: The gift of a freshly baked pie. Need I say more?
• Acts of Service: Making someone you love a pie. Taking the time and the thought to make someone a pie goes a long way.
• Physical Touch: Making a pie together, hugging and kissing your child or your sweetie as you make a pie and share the spatula. The hug you receive when you give the gift of pie to a friend or neighbor.

Pie transcends all bounds. Pie is finding sacred in the every day. Pie is enjoying the fruits of Mother Nature. Pie is…

Blanket

Today is the first day I have used a blanket to help me sit for meditation. Now that I have tried it, I don’t know why I didn’t do it before. What’s the big deal?

I remember in yoga classes the instructor would talk about using a blanket to help people prop themselves up. It was usually said as “some people may need this.” Some students needed blocks, others needed belts, and then there were those who needed blankets.

It wasn’t until last week when I was in a yoga class at the Chelsea Wellness Center (great place by the way), that the instructor was one of the “some people” who needed a blanket to sit up straight. I liked this. It made me feel better. Then I forgot all about it until this morning when I was searching for a place to do my meditation. The sliding door was open. It was raining outside and the birds were active. The raindrops on the deck and outdoor furniture sounded so beautiful, I wanted to sit by the door so I could hear everything better. I looked for something to sit on and then I saw the blanket. This blue blanket has been resting on the edge of the couch the entire time we have been house sitting. I wasn’t even sure why it was there since it doesn’t really match anything in the living room. But there it was. Calling to me. I picked it up and sat down. It was perfect. My spine was straight and my ears were tingling with all the wonderful sounds around me.

I admit that my meditation posture has been rather lazy in the past. Certainly less than ideal and in fact, I have sat in ways that many instructors would tell students not to sit. But today it was textbook.

I laugh at myself for taking so long to admit that I need a blanket. I give myself credit for not "beating myself up" about the less than perfect posture in the past. I smile and give thanks that the blanket was there all the time.

Up and Out

A few months ago Barnaby and I decided to start each day by identifying an intention and then sharing it with each other. It has been a fun practice and it is amazing to see how once we set our intentions, we get many opportunities to apply them throughout the day.

Usually, when I think of my intention, a word jumps out at me. Sometimes I get a picture in my mind, but generally it is a word or phrase. This morning when I asked what my intention is for today, I got an image of me standing with my arms up and out. What did this mean? Like to transmit? Or emit? I thought about it for awhile and I couldn’t find a word for the image I saw. Eventually I chose to let it be and move on with my day.

A little while later I sat down to clear my head. I made some tea and sat in a lovely chair in the elegant living room of the place where we are house sitting. Looking over a beautifully shaped sofa, I look out into the trees beyond. I sit. I set myself for Oneness and to use beginner’s mind. I keep my eyes open. Many thoughts. I continue to sit. Finally my eyes wander to inside the room. To the glass table right in front of me. To the simple bowl on the table. I recognize its shape.

There it is. Barely a bowl. More like a plate with gentle arms lifting up and out. Up and Out. Offering itself to be used, to be of service. Available to receive what is placed in it. I am grateful for the clarity. As always the timing is good. I will be working with clients later today. And even though I have no idea what they will bring me, I know what my job is.