FLIGHT

One of the greatest and often unhelpful personal instincts I have worked hard to overcome over the years has been flight.  I am non-confrontational, but passionate (must have something to do with the Irish-Italian heritage).

When I was younger and faced with bad situations, bad choices (my own or others), my instinct was to flee.  It was a cycle that never brought any true progress to being more at peace with things, but it did help me survive the immediate.  I fled from family, relationships, and eventually I even fled from Montreal (which looking back I think was a necessary precursor to eventual relative peace).

After I had my children, this instinct was greatly suppressed.  I knew I did not want to pass on whatever I was carrying from one situation to the next to them, so I stayed and went with the other option:  fight.  I stayed even when I probably should not have.  I stayed through 15 years of an abusive marriage with assistance of 10 different therapists on the sidelines.  At least the effort and desire was there to work on it.

My flight response is still very much alive, but the situations are less critical and I use it as a signal to guide me to safety rather than toxicity or distance.  There is always the opportunity for me to work on the things that I want to work on, and that is to be in a decent relationship where I can grasp the knee-jerk feelings I get and overcome them for the greater benefit that lies inherent in it, rather than just pushing it aside to accommodate a short-term agenda.  I want to continue to grow here.

Part of this is recognizing that I haven't really had the resources (the time or the support) to nurture this while being a single-parent with three jobs, going to school and trying to keep myself sane through a demanding but empowering exercise program.  But maybe now I do, and with other challenges and demands giving way, the thought of this great opportunity has been giving me life and hope.

My bucket list dreams are not necessarily impacted by this, the bucket list is not a flight mechanism.  It simply reflects a shift in responsibility, from my children which has been the primary focus for the last 20 years, to myself and others.  It has also allowed for my head to dream, get inspired and tune into parts of myself that were buried years ago.  Sometimes the dreaming is enough, but whenever we can, we should try to put feet to our good thoughts.

I think I am going to be facing some difficult moments in the more personal and less clinical catalytic pursuits of balanced wholeness.

CANOE

We recently had 22 days of straight torrential rain here in Tampa.  Our community faired it well with minor mishaps and some great photoshop humor on social networking sites.  

I listed my camper just prior to the start of the flooding and was thinking how when I sell this rarely used vehicle, I would use part of the proceeds to pay for my sons' college and treat myself to an ultralight canoe to paddle around the island and navigate the streets when the water rises like this.

I grew up in Canada.  Part of my summers was spent canoe tripping through Algonquin Park in Ontario.  It is a beautiful, ancient-feeling part of the world, haunted by American-Indian lore.  I returned a few years ago and it was as if time had stood still.  When I was in my teens, we carried 70-pound pack on our backs and 75-pound wooden canoes over mile-long portages.  I don't know how I got through it, but it stayed with me.  Soloing a canoe through hail and lightning storms, being at one with the elements and beyond civilization is something that I came to embrace and find solace in.  It is the blueprint for what brings me life and peace.  The people I was with came from all parts of the world and that completed the universality of the experience.

I've been divorced now for 7 years.  My boys have been my priority leading me to this next phase that starts this coming year.  My course will be altered.  I left my heart open to the possibility of love and a new family, but I new that would be difficult with the circumstances and that my focus had to remain on my children's needs, my needs would come later if necessary.  Along the way I had opportunities for companionship, but it was a lonely journey for the most part.  To maintain clarity and not get carried away with a temporary compromise based solely on emotion, as I had done in the past, I stood on one primary question directed to myself or any person I would consider another relationship with:

Where are you going?  

There will be hailstorms and fog and log jams, but ultimately we all have a destination in mind.  Short term and long term.  If we don't, then we should probably figure it out or end up owning someone else's direction as our own.

I haven't run into anyone heading in the same direction yet, but if I had, the questions would evolve to where are "we" going?  How can we help each other?  What are we doing well?  What do we need to improve?

After 7 years of little inspiration for a long-term relationship, it really excites me to think that on the journey next year in Spain, all the people along that path will be going to the same place, we will all be able to help each other, encourage each other, and I gather that even as we depart from one another, whatever the journeys beyond that, they will have a similar penchant.  

It will be a canoe experience which will inevitably lead to another, and another...

DEPLETION

Children, work, hobbies, all have to be balanced with self-care.  Once we become depleted, expect too much from ourselves and each other, our marriages, bodies and lives suffer.

Let me tell you a story about one particular family.  Successful, huge heart for the world, life, faith, beautiful and large family, not overly materialistic in their pursuits, but comfortable and genuinely caring in their efforts.  I used to see them from a distance and call them the "perfect family".

After watching several seemingly "perfect" families and people fall apart, I have started to think that it's the ones who wear their hearts and struggles on the sleeves that may be the healthier ones.  They are the real ones who don't need to keep up appearances at all costs.  They muster through the trenches of life, not making any apologies for the sweat on their brow or the wrinkles on their skin.

Depletion is when we have nothing left to give to anyone after a full day's work, constant pokes from people via emails and advertising, texts, working out, feeding children and housework...  We need to give to ourselves in order to give to others, and instead of seeking and adapting to impactful change that would allow for more down time, we want or have to keep going even if it means giving it all up or watching our families fail.  There is the reality of what change will bring and whether everyone wants to subscribe to what is needed.  Letting go of our wants and expectations for something seemingly less is difficult, even if it ends up being something more that we just can't see at the time.  Coping strategies are helpful, but also change over time and are hard to figure out.  The odds are stacked against us with what it takes to succeed in this hyper-efficient and over-productive America.

It breaks my heart to see the man and/or woman in the midst of a mid-life crisis and not be able to rescue them.  They are in the desert.  I see them every day.  They are beautifully and innocently vulnerable to all the things that will serve to teach them life's hardest lessons, if they don't break in the process.  God bless them all and carry them through the coming storms.

LEPRECHAUNS AND UNICORNS

There is one of many magical wells in the countryside not too far from the banks of the enchanting river Slaney in Ireland, a few miles south of the town of Enniscorty in County Wexford.  It is a well-kept and almost forgotten secret.  Many generations have contributed offerings in the hopes of eliciting the well's power and influence over the course of events.  Those offerings are still there in the form of flowers, small statues, household items.

Ireland is a magical land where the landscape changes color and texture in an uncanny way.  Distances are not what they appear and the air is saturated with a sense of thinness between what is visible and what lies beyond the perception of our 5 senses.  Because of this the Irish have a rich tradition of tales unique and very much influenced by nature and and it's inherent spiritual elements.  Trees morph into wizards and mists cloaks medieval castles and hills in a way that throws you back in time and into submission and respect for a mostly forgotten time and way of existence.

Anyone familiar with Irish lore will know about leprechauns, how they sprang from the spirited landscape and that they hide their cache of treasure at the elusive ends of rainbows.  Because unicorns also make their homes in these areas, it is likely that they are to come across each other once in a while.  Leprechauns are even able to have the privilege of getting to ride the noble creature.  It is even said that anyone who catches a glimpse of this phenomenon will attain immortality and eternal good luck, since it is one of the rarest and most magical sights on earth.

That's all I have to say about that right now.

LIMITS

I am four weeks post-hip-replacement-surgery and I feel a little disappointed in myself.  Granted I am bouncing back better than most and my progress is marked each day, this is a new experience to me in terms of constant nagging pain over so many weeks.  Prior to surgery there was deferred pain to my back that was also constant, which thankfully has now almost all but disappeared.  So why is this side of it that much harder to deal with?  Is it the additional side effects of narcotic medication?  The up and down nature of the recovery where one day I feel wonderful and strong and the next I don't want to move all day?  The fact that my emotions have been peaked by certain elements of the personal relationships in my life becoming more exposed?  Because when the patient goes down, peripheral sources of frustration become even more suppressing than the illness itself.

I've worked as a Chaplain for 7 years and we are trained to focus on the patient and what they need in the moment we are with them.  If only I could gently impart that to those who surround me, in their desire to show concern or care.

To my parents who have never really been a strong presence, all of a sudden want to send me frivolous emails 10 times a day and demand a response.  I am not interested in blasting the Muslims and I've answered your logistical concerns over and over again.  Please give me peace and leave me alone as you have always done.  It is what I am used to.  Anything you could offer you have never really been able to offer, so I thank you for your concern, but status quo is better than my needing to reassure you I am still alive 2500 miles away every few minutes.  I will let you know if something is wrong.  Where is this worry with respect to the other possibly even more critical issued in our midst? Nonetheless I thank you for trying to be present in whatever capacity you are able to.

To my son, a selfish teenager in the apex of his antiauthoritarian phase of life, I apologize for breaking and not taking your mess and irresponsibility in stride like I normally do.  Please try not to make things harder on me by giving me more physical work to do in this limited state.

To my lover and best friend who has led me along a confused path of romanticism for the last 4+ years.  I appreciate your constant presence in the hospital and your help in finding the best course of treatment, but as always you are full on or full off, and it has made my recovery a little harder knowing how you were able to be there so completely for 2 whole days, and then shrank back into the other world you live in, dashing any and all opportunities for progress, yet again.  It hurts more than my wound and I miss you.  If nothing else it continues to direct my future path in alternate directions.

Praise to my friends, who know me, my sense of independence, my vulnerabilities and who respect them in every sense.  Their offers of prayer, to be present, to serve in any capacity without limitation, without presumption or pushiness for their own sense of what I might need is wonderfully appreciated and gives me security in not feeling lost or abandoned.

Finally, to myself, who sometimes thinks that after all I've been through, there isn't much that can take me down.  Knowing I will overcome, regardless, but now experiencing first-hand that the process of aging and the body failing is not to be taken lightly.  To allow myself to slow down as much as I need to deal with this recovery and other eventual shortcomings, and take stock of the things that are lacking or too compromising in my life in order to face those future needs is something to be reckoned with.  It is hard to go through life alone, I hope I don't have to do it much longer.  I am alone amongst my friends in terms of lacking companionship.  It is something I have been trying to work on for a while, and in some ways I have.  In others I feel have fallen short or have been withheld from personal commitment for something yet to be seen, or to be able to give my boys what they need in a critical time where other factors are seriously lacking.  In any case, the recent added focus and effect of this hole in my life is one that needs careful consideration in what the future brings.

Where my bucket list is a wonderful reprieve from much work and sacrifice, it is to be tempered with peace about other areas in life and not to become or looked at as an alternative to the soulful companionship we all need.  A possible addendum to my bucket list pursuits, rather than giving it more power by its omission:  committed partnership with a kind, well-balanced but passionate person.

TRUST

It is the end of July and I just got back from my yearly epic trip out west!  Cycling through the Cascades and around Crater Lake was a wonderful reprieve from a tough first half of the year.  It fueled my spirit where my confidence and ability were being challenged by finances, work stress, and relationships, making me feel the years and wear.  We all have a secret formula to what makes us overcome, persevere and rise to greater heights, one of the main ingredients for me it is to escape on a voyage through nature's many wonders with kindred spirits.  I desperately tried several times this year to get there.  I was thwarted by various factors; family challenges, storms, bad timing...  It was getting to the point where I was questioning if I should just give up on the goal and simply hunker down until next year.  I made uncertain shots in the dark at scheduling a new adventure, not really thinking they would materialize and even if they did, I thought something would surely come along to derail my attempt before I got there.

Whatever leads us to a particular place at a particular time with particular people (often strangers the way I travel) never seems completely random.  For whatever I went through to finally get there, the particular people I met last week were unique in their strength, inspiration, and appreciation of the journey and each other as we breathed in the rich oxygenated air of the Ponderosa Pine, swooped down the miles of curves with rarely another soul in sight aside from the bucks and bunnies, ground up the long miles of incline to ancient lava fields of basalt giving way to magnificent views of majestic peaks: Hood, Jefferson, Hope, Grace and Charity, weaved in and out of the PCT and encountered even more intrepid voyageurs at the trailheads.

It granted me perspective on life back home, beckoned me to stay, alternately, it inspired to pursue.  I arrived knowing I belonged in my heart, and as the week went on, the trust in my resolve and desire to get there for all the right reasons was affirmed.  Clarity came regarding the triggers throughout daily routines that invade any time for retreat at home.  I was able to take time and feed my soul on my own terms, not according to imposed limitations.  I thought about what I could start removing from my life to give more space to certain people, nature, and reading (I went through 5 books in two weeks, where I couldn't even get through one in the last 6 months!).

So I challenge the reader: take inventory of your life, your friends, your activities, your depth.  Visualize what you want it to be according to your own criteria, not the world's, appreciate what the natural world has to offer us, and even if it takes years, nurture it and live it!

Smith Rock - Oregon

SOMETIMES YOU CATCH THE WIND

Major life change can be intimidating.  We all hope for good things, but the reality of stretching ourselves to the adjustments of new contexts is usually difficult in some respect.  In spite of the growing pains and losses that accompany change, I find grounding and gratitude in options available to me, and I make every effort to try to chose the best one available.

In searching for direction, other than what I already anticipate for myself, I gently knock on various doors, and with input from close friends and mentors who are willing to be honest and bold with me, lean into some of those spaces with greater emphasis.  It became very clear through this process what is a priority and what isn’t, possibilities to be pursued at a later time and what lies at hand.  I think of this a little like nudging the Divine in collaborating in the creative process.  

I briefly described my political outlook in a previous post and here is the other relevant but sensitive piece: faith.  Raised non-practicing Catholic, distanced from the Church for a couple of decades while exploring philosophy, atheism, Buddhism, and other distractions and paths to enlightenment.  I re-engaged the Christian faith through protestant training and have found a church home for the last 8 years at a United Methodist Church in Tampa where I feel free to practice my faith within and beyond the confines of the Church property.  I need to feel freedom as well as accountability in my walk with God.  It’s been a long journey providing me with points of connection and understanding of many other ideas that speak of overlapping universal truths.  It’s those truths that may differ in small details or metaphor that help me believe there is something greater and good at hand, working to guide us.  

That may sound wishy-washy, but as a human being, not a rock or an insect, my grounding is definitely and always comes back to the precepts and identity of the Christian faith for affirmation and confirmation in my thoughts and actions...  While still fleshing out some of the aspects of the more common creeds I do believe in a Creator God; a holy, merciful and good presence, who seeks to reach and help us through all the challenges and chaos in this world that seek to undermine His will.  I believe in His Spirit; the inspiration that accompanies us always as believers, and particularly instrumental in His influence when we allow Him to work through us and are sensitive to the spiritual elements in our midst.  And Christ; our blessed example and mediator when faced with the impossible task of understanding and glorifying the greatness of the divine in difficult circumstances and particularly in dealing with others.  

This has always been a major consideration in my awareness of events, personal pursuits, my life’s mission and in the direction I am heading.  I enjoy but am not bound to the security of the temple and I am more often than not left wanting by the short and light content of most Bible studies.  I do enjoy a good sermon and fellowship and I like to see the Christian calling lived out in Kingdom-building ways in our community and by extension in the world.  Each to his own spiritual gifts and inclinations, I value greatly those who serve in all their respects. 

This faith gives me the confidence that whatever, wherever life presents, I am not alone.  There is affirmation and blessing and usually a whole lot of fast-paced events that fall into place one after another when a shift is in play.  

There are times, of course, I have taken the wrong road, and found myself climbing a hill to desolation and depletion.  There are plenty of lessons that still need to be learned.  Sometimes I felt like something was being presented as an opportunity where it was really a temptation.  It is not necessarily a good or bad thing, it is often something I needed to work on and be steadfast in my patience and obedience about.  It makes it even harder to discern when we don’t like where we are.  In those times, I just shake my head at my own inabilities and throw my hands up in submission… and things usually get better from that point on.

Then there are those awesome, vital, glorious, anabolic times where I’ve hit the nail on the head.  I found myself thankful for the wind at my back, riding in complete synchrony with all that surrounds me and everything working together without any perceivable negative impact involved.  Those times are by the grace of God, nothing I could ever orchestrate or dream up of on my own and I am fortunate to have had my share of them in life.

Let me give you one of my first real experiences of this feeling.  In 1988, I was 22 years old and got a job crewing as first mate on the sailboat of a retired newspaper owner in San Diego.  The intentions were to sail to the South Pacific, but after a month at dock in Cabo San Lucas and the owners imperfect health, it became clear to me that the well laid plans were not going to fruition.  I ran into a Captain from a fishing vessel who was looking for someone to navigate a three week delivery from Chula Vista to Hawaii and decided that would be a good transition stint.  The problem was I was stuck in a tiny little undeveloped bay in the Sea of Cortez, Bahia Los Frailes, which is now a National Park.  The winds were too high for the owner to move the boat and my window of opportunity was growing short.

One morning I woke up completely exasperated from being stranded for so many days.  I packed my bag and asked for a lift to shore in the dinghy.  Somehow I would find my way 150 miles to La Paz, without a road in sight, completely at the mercy of whatever lay beyond the brush past the beach.  I carried a medium-sized duffle bag that contained my documents, foul weather gear, a few books, some clothes that tended not to last very long and got replaced by other items along the way, about $20, a bottle of water and a pack of peanut M & M’s.

The wind minimized the heat, but the dust was terrible and I tied a bandana around my nose and mouth to help me breathe easier.   The shrubs were thin enough to find your way through, and I headed straight inland.  My primary concern was rattlesnakes.  We had hiked the mountain by the bay the day before and it was infested with them.  Thankfully and to my surprise after a few hundred yards and no rattlesnakes, I came across a dirt road.  I headed North.  I walked along for an hour or so when a small pick-up truck came rumbling along slowly from behind me.  There were two men in the truck.  I hesitated after a negative experience with some locals in Cabo, but these were country people, and the small waterfront villages had always been good to us as strangers on the boat.  I waved them down.  My Spanish had improved from the time I had spent in Cabo, and I asked them about a road to La Paz, if there there was a bus and how far away it was.  They nodded and pointed but had no clue about schedules.  I asked them for a lift to the road where the bus ran and they obliged.  They brought me to a crossroads with a paved road.  There was a small deserted bus shelter on one side of the road.  I thanked them, gave them a couple of dollars, and they drove off.

The bus shelter was devoid of life or information.  I sat and waited, thinking maybe another car will drive by.  Nothing.  I read a book and stayed in the shade.   Slowly, and seemingly out of nowhere, people started appearing, walking towards the shelter.  There was a boy with his father, a couple of others looking at me with curiosity.  Apart from the way they were dressed, I knew from trading candy and cokes for fresh fish along the coast that these people lived on very little.  I opened my pack of M & M’s and shared.  Smiles all around.  It was good fellowship with minimal interaction.  The bus finally came.  I gave the driver $7 for a ride to La Paz, another $5 got me to the airport where I could use my credit card to buy a plane ticket to San Diego and some food.  I spent a night in San Diego at the Salvation Army shelter there, where I came very close to having everything stolen by a homeless woman, and the next day I found my boat and was ready to head further east, as originally intended.  

I am not a regular wing and a prayer type of adventurer.  There is usually a little more planning and understanding of logistics involved when I want to go somewhere.  I found it pretty amazing that I was able to find my way so serendipitously from the isolation of a small boat anchored in the Sea of Cortez to my destination in another country about 1000 miles away in one day.  This experience is one of many of its nature that have served to overcome my fears about taking certain risks, minimizing the need for control, remaining flexible and humble, and engaging other cultures.  That was a day I caught the wind.