Frankfurt to Heildelberg

In 2000 I went to Germany and France on a self-supported bike tour with my a previous partner. We arrived in Frankfurt after a long 15 hour flight. Our bikes were in boxes and we had to wait over an hour for them to arrive in baggage claim. Neither one of us spoke German. Neither one of us had ever been to Europe. Neither one of us had ever done a bike tour. My partner was a strong, athletic, type A personality. He pushed through life rather than going with the flow. This particular trait, at one time attractive, became the major reason that I left in years later.

We sat in the airport re-assembling our bikes. An armed guard came over to us asking questions in German, gesturing to us. We didn't understand a word he was saying. He eventually walked away; leaving us with our bikes, panniers and two huge boxes. Now, what were we going to do with the boxes? Well, in Germany, unlike in many places in the US, rycling is everywhere. Upon exiting the airport we found an outside recycling center and placed our boxes there. No problem.

Out in front of the airport was this enormous parking lot filled with bikes! It was amazing. From there we needed to catch a train to Heildelberg. We knew from our map we could see that it was was the preferred destination for the night. It was about 94 km or an hour's train ride. Walking our bikes through the train station at roughly 'rush hour' was chaotic and exhilarating. We quickly surmised the letter board and schedules. A train was leaving for Frankfurt in ten minutes! We had to hurry (or we could have waited for the next train, but no, we had to hurry...i.e. he made sure we made that train).

We got onto the train just before it was leaving. We couldn’t find a car that was for bikes, so we just stood on the back side of one of the cars. A conductor approached us and again, we just shrugged our shoulders and gave him a smile. The train was packed with evening commuters and people were looking at us like we were idiots.

Upon arrival in Heildelberg the stress faded and our exhaustion took over. 5 km south of town was the campground. It sat right on the edge of the Neckar River, called Haide Camp Haide, it was a quaint, quiet, clean campground. 

We purchased two huge beers. Sat by the river and watched the barges float by. The sun was setting. We were in Germany. We had 20 days, a map and nothing planned.

Probably one of the best trips in my life.

In the twenty days of that trip, I pushed myself harder than I had ever done in order to appease my partner. There were days when I wanted to spring for a hotel instead of camp. There were days that I wish we didn’t have to ride 90 km to get to the next campground. But as I look back on that trip I feel an unabashed sense of pride for having made the journey. Even though it feels like a lifetime ago, I can always look back at the pictures and remember who I was then is always who I’ve ever been. Who I am today is the same person I was then. 

What is more amazing still is that you can actually see the route we traversed from Google Maps!  I can trace my finger along the route that we rode almost 12 years ago, and yet it still feels a million years ago.  As my finger follows these routes off my video monitor, I see a more ethereal connection to my life's path.  The thread of my life clearly leads from there to here and from here to there, yes with diversions along the way, but never disconnected, always, always just as who I am. 

Shadowy Bits

I saw a recent post on Facebook where Oprah says many people are held back from becoming who they were meant to be by shadow beliefs and feelings of unworthiness which distract us from finding our true purpose in the world.   Although, honestly, I have no idea what Oprah's "insecurities" are. I only know what mine are. I do know that my own insecurities have definitely shaped my life; for good or bad.

Even to this day, I see my ex-husband often conflicted by my words, expels numerous accusations and defenses in what is most likely an outpouring of "insecurities" rather than a rational position to assume in the discussion. This obviously affects him both emotionally and physically to the point of swaying me off balance and subsequently sending me into a state of confusion and self-afflicting deprecation where we both fall into old patterns.   Sometimes I call it, the 'darkeness of despair' and I am often ashamed I find this place so frequently.  But after listening to my heart and meditating on this I now choose to refer to it as simply as accepting what is..... and I see the shadows of my life as part of my whole life, not something to hide. 

What can I say? I never really planned out this life. I never asked for this, nor have I sought out training specifically to manage it.   I certainly never sought out to "manage" my life as if it were a Broadway Show or some kind of public event.   I never really had anyone teach me that there were certain "rules" or "guidelines" for which one follows to have a "successful" life.  I have friends (i.e successful friends) that tend to "show off" their awesome successes with much admiration and yet it becomes obvious that there too exists ample room to note the apparent shadows of self admiration and denial of truthful contrasts for life as it really plays out.

Shadows, scientifically speaking, are partial darkness or obscurity within a part of space from which rays from a source of light are cut off by an interposed opaque body . They are also considered an imperfect or faint representation of something, an imitation of something. (Webster's Dictionary Online)

Shadows, to the mystics are, the unwanted parts of ourselves or our ideas, dreams or thoughts. It can also represent the darker side of your nature, or the side of yourself that you reject, hide or try to conceal.   As a child, we had a superstition that you should not step on someones shadow because you would cause that person harm.
In Science of Mind, shadowy bits would basically refer to the parts of the Universe that are unseen, perhaps the “contrasts” for which make the rest of the “goodness” so overwhelmingly good. In fact, the shadows, for Religious Scientist practitioners wouldn’t really be an issue because we see the light and the darkness with the same affinity, respect and acceptance.
Yet, in regular society we are taught, persuaded, maybe even manipulated to tolerate that “shadows” are for hiding.  So, I ask...?
Can you live a successful life with shadowy bits still in the lurk? Can you reveal your shadowy bits and still find the love and admiration of your peers, let alone your closest ally, your romantic partner or best friend? Can you stomach the truth about one of your closest friends or family members and accept them for all parts revealed? Can we, as a society, choose to accept the shadows are part of the truth rather than try and stamp it out or ignore it’s presence? 

We, so unconsciously hide the shadows because we are somehow taught that they are ugly, unwanted or even immoral.  Yet, the shadows are as much a part of who we are as the light. Yet, people tend to choose to exhibit, emphasize, or call attention to the more successful part of their lives, rather than taking a stronger, more accepting, and self empathetic look at your shadowy bits.  Love them.  Bless them.  And pray that that they too are part of who you represent.  It makes us all the more human in the end.

Update ~ July 2012 
I recently finished the Boundaries class at VCSL led by the wonderful and gracious, Reverend Bonnie Rose.  In one class I had mentioned this idea of 'shadowy bits' and Bonnie mis-heard me at first, thinking I said, 'shadowy bitch' and we laughed but then immediately we realized the beautiful metaphor this afforded us!!  In our own spiritual transformation, how often does the shadowy bitch come out and try to thwart our personal growth?  How often does she try and minimize our achievement, downplay our strengths and in general, act like a complete bitch to us? 

The shadowy bitch is there as a part of who we are; in wholeness, as a reminder that yes, some times things are not always clear and cut and dry.  Yes, sometimes we must sit a bit longer in the uncomfortableness of being and feel what it is like to feel how we feel.  Sometimes we must accept the fact that our ego is trying to manipulate us in order to have more time at the helm.  But the truth is that we do have the power and presence of God within us put the shadowy bitch in her place (lovingly) and move towards the light of our being, into the truth of who we really are, beyond the apprehension of the ego and remember who we are.  That's the wild place to be.  That's the place to feel the wind in your face and know, truly know that you are who you are and that is just perfectly fine just as it is....

The Love of My Life

I am a dreamer. I have always been. I remember when I was in kindergarten and the teacher rudely interrupted me from a daydream in the middle of class; disgracefully awakening me from my fantasy land of nymphs and fairies dancing around my head to ostensibly focus on math lessons. What a trip!

In my middle school to high school years (as we were a rather rural region of Pennsylvania and things moved much slower in these parts...) I had crushes on boys. My older brother saw fit that they stayed clear for the most part until he left for college. Then I was free to reek havoc. The truth is, I fell in love quite early on and quite committedly to one guy. He, of course, did not want anything to do with me. The rejection was something that I guess I actually sought out (at least, with lot's of therapy, I am able to appreciate that fact).

In college; forget about it. I was too busy partying to have serious relationships. My most devoted ally, a 3' bong named Grimace, was with whom I slept most nights.

It wasn't until my senior year of college I met Scott and I fell madly in love. Actually, I didn't really, but we, of course had a meaningful connection and I mistook that for love. What is true love anyway?

We spent almost 10 years together.  And I now regret having left him because I see how special he was....  I have journal entries where I complain miserably about his OCD behavior or how he's not much of a sensual lover. I felt really comfortable with him.  Maybe a little too comfortable.  He could fix anything but not the greatest lover! 

When I ran off to Argentina and met Andres. Oh, Andres. Well, let's just say that love making is his sort of calling card.   But he was the kind of guy who knew every bouncer at every club in Buenos Aires....a city fo 13 million.  Sort of said something about his type, no?  While he was sensual and romantic, he couldn't stop flirting with every other woman, fix a toilet or drive a car. 

When I met Martin, I pretty much figured that I had been blessed with the two extremes and that with him I 'd find a happy medium. He can fix almost anything, even toilets, but alas, not broken hearts.  Well, funny how life just keeps you guessing. While he was perfect in almost every way, he was a disaster at being. Yes. BEING. He had trouble being present. He had no idea who or what was his priority. He had difficultly organizing. He fled to his mother and sisters for comfort and alienated me. He blamed me for pretty much everything that ever went wrong because he certainly was rarely present (both physically and mentally) when things got decided.    When we finally parted ways, I was at the receving end of a bunch of criticism that wasn't rightfully mine.  I am still, to this day, not sure what exactly he was so angry about.  He hasn't quite let me in on his own insights.

As a single woman again, I finding dating to be tremendous work.  It's not like it was 5 or even 10 years ago when you met someone, you clicked and things took course from there.  Now there is so much more at stake and I find so many of these 'possibles' quite literally impossible to stomach.  With each new failure at love I become all the more in tune with the my own strengths, weaknesses and most impotantly, boundaries.  What I want vs. what I don't want.  I am still a little sketchy on what I want; I am becoming clearer most certainly on what I don't want. 

Well, the one bright side to all of this, is that I finally, after all of this strife and heartache have found my one true love.   I have discovered my son, Ziggy, the most wonderful creature ever created. Yes, he is challenging. He can scream louder than Liza. There are moments when we both need a time out. But he's amazing. He's amazed. He's loving and he's lovable. He's innocent. He's accepting. He's absorbent and learning. He's brilliant. He's precocious and challenging. He's brave and enlightened. I wonder, was I?

I guess, in closing, while Ziggy can be one thing, (i.e. difficult) he is always the other truth to that thing (i.e. brilliant).   He is purely whole and perfect just as he is. He is, in short, the guy I've been looking for. He's my dream come true.  It is like Rev. Bonnie said, Ziggy Finn Santos will forever be like a prayer.  And it is.  How very grateful I am for him being in my life.  He is the most perfect representation of Infinite Spirit.  And for that, I am truly blessed.  And as I look into his beautiful blue eyes, I know that he is created as a part of me and therefore I too am perfect, beautiful and sort of like a prayer.  How cool is that?  To see the truth of your own self in the eyes of the one you love is what we are all searching for...and I have it.  Sure I had to go through shit (and continue to work my ass off) for it, but how very sweet it is.  Blessed be little Ziggy Finn Santos.  Nameste.

Game Night

In rural Pennsylvania where I grew up, Game Night was a big deal. Whether or not it be football or basketball, folks came out to cheer on the local student star athletes. Like my brother and father before me, I was a natural born athlete. I was the 'star' player on the girls basketball team and the 'fastest' girl on the track.

Practice was two days a week, with games or meets two days a week, with one day for rest. Weekends were optional practices, special meets or games for which I was always involved. I lived, ate, breathed sports. It was really the only thing that my father and I could talk about.

You see, my mother had left when I was about 11 or 12 and my father was pretty depressed most of the time. Sports were the one unifying thing for our family. Our grandfather and my brother and father and I could talk sports. Who's in the playoffs, who sucks, who sold out, why was coach so and so such a dip-shit, etc...

My mother, who was going back to school and held down two jobs, was not really into sports. It kind of made it hard to relate to her at the time. I remember seeing her seated in the bleachers before a game. I would be such a bitch to her; ignoring her or casually approaching her like I didn't even care that she was there. She would probably drive at least an hour to come see me and I'd barely acknowledge her.

Worse, my father would work 8 or 10 hours and then drive the hour or two to wherever my game was. He'd sit and watch the game and cheer and cuss out the refs and then drive all the way back to town to wait for me to arrive separately on the bus. I could have driven home with him and made his trip home one hour less but I didn't. No, selfishly, I rode the bus home with my friends and then gave him the cold shoulder the whole ride home. I'd then go into my room and shut door and act like he was "bothering me".

I just passed my first rite of passage with my son. Valentine's Day. I have memories of sitting up with my mother making the Valentine's Day box and filling out the Valentine's Day cards. And here I am doing it for my son. It only signals that some day soon I will be staying up later than I really want to in order to cheer my son on at some game or meet and more than likely he will give me the cold shoulder.

There is nothing you can do at this point to make up for how you treated your parents, huh? I guess that is why kids treat their parents like crap. So that we finally know what it feels like to be a parent. Kind of a sick torture I think. But, for what's it is worth. Mom, Dad, I am sorry I was such an ass. I love you both. Thank you.

I Release and Let Go.....

There has been something that I felt that I have not been quite honest with you about. And for that I apologize. The truth is, that I've been hiding something from you for some time. It is not because I don't trust you. No, not at all. I think I held back out of embarrassment.

It is a deeply held, tightly guarded, lovingly protected secret which I know that I implied in some of my posts, however, it wasn’t fully forth-coming; instead it was sort of passive and for that I seek your forgiveness. Some of you know what I am talking about; those of you who saw me in my absolute worst.

So here it is: I am a survivor of domestic abuse.

And yet, why did I hesitate to name it outright?

Abuse, domestic abuse, is a silent disease that affects more than 74% of people in the US whether they know someone or are a part of the abuse. It directly affects roughly 25% the US of population.

I never, ever, ever in my wildest dreams would have suspected that I would become a victim of domestic violence. I mean I run triathlons and climb high Sierra peaks, I traveled abroad and speak two languages. I have a good education, a high-paying professional job. I mean, how did this college-educated, sassy, world-traveled, strong, independent woman become a victim of abuse? How did I allow it? What is wrong with me that I allowed this to happen to me?

The women I met in my group counseling sessions were just as flabbergasted too. They all seemed capable, smart, well-meaning young women. How????

Well, the simple answer is that, it's not that easy. The circumstances for which I entered into my relationship have little to do with the final series of outcomes. When he was in his particular state of rage, I was in my own particular state of lack of self-worth and dis-equilibrium.

There are a number of “reasons” for our stress. Citizenship status, financial needs, pity, mutual desire for something other than another Tahoe winter season, unplanned pregnancy, house remodel, unplanned c-section, post-partum depression, paternal resentment, debt, bad economy, historically bad fight with best friend, loss of our one functioning car, his family‘s pure dislike of me….the list goes on.

It was if “God” were against us. And I used to cry aloud to God, screaming how I hated him and that he had left me alone in this pure tragic misery of pain and regret. I used to say that I would never again be duped into believing in the supposed powers of universal spirit. What had God ever done for me?

It is in the absolute moment of despair that one can finally see the truth. There exists only one truth. If then, there is darkness, such as what I experienced, there must then also be light. For without one, the other cannot exist.

So, out of chaos, I found peace. Out of poverty, I found prosperity. Out of hatred and judgment I found unconditional love and acceptance. Out of pain and suffering I found joy and patience. Out of loss I found gratitude. Out of disaster I found strength and perseverance. Out of loneliness I found community.

And I know that I would not have ever appreciated any of these without having lost pretty much everything. I am like the Job of Ventura. Ha!

If you are a victim today, I urge you to take the necessary steps to get yourself to a safe location and begin to rebuild your life. Take it from me; it can be done. It isn’t “impossible”. Yes, it isn’t easy. And from experience, the services from the County or State are scattered and confusing at best. But, here are some resources that can help you get out of your current situation and into the life you were meant to inhabit.

It's time to let go of that story that you deserve this and begin to accept the truth that you deserve so much more...all that the Universe has to offer and more.

Cal Lutheran Community Counseling Center http://www.callutheran.edu/community_counseling/

Ventura County Project Understanding http://www.projectunderstanding.org/

Ventura County 211 http://www.icfs.org/211ventura.org/

What Does My Body Have to do With My Gratitude?

Every time I hear that song from Ani DiFranco, I stop what I am doing and listen to her words. Soft yet confident and so, oh so truthful. With some shame and reluctance I share with you that I've been put into a similar situation as well. ;More than once before, I have been trusting, believing the best in the other and honestly quite unbelievably I have had my innocence violated.

In high school, in the front seat of a car, rain pouring down, and he's on top of me, entering me and the pain is excruciating and within minutes, the whole experience is done and he's kicking me out of his car in the pouring rain outside the school dance. I am embarrassed and confused.

In college, after a long night of partying, falling asleep in a friend's bed only to be awoken in the early hours of the morning with them taking off my t-shirt, forcing their tongue down my throat, telling me to be quiet. Me, wriggling out of their grasp and running out of the house loaded with the guilt of "I must have done something to deserve that". Yes, I was plenty self destructive at the time in my life. But, really?

While traveling abroad, I found myself without a place to sleep one night. I had been traveling with a supposed business associate, assisting him with investigating real-estate options abroad. He was supposed to have set up separate sleeping arrangements, but upon arrival, after 17 hours of travel, I discover, he in fact, had ulterior plans. I fled, in anger and shame again, believing somehow I had brought this upon myself. And I had no where to stay. The first night I slept in the bus station. I made friends with a group of Aussies who lived in town; ex-pats living the along the Adriatic. One offered me a place to stay on his couch. But, alas, again, upon entering the apartment, only to discover no couch; just a double bed. And just like in Ani's song, he said, 'we can sleep here like brother and sister.' But I know that my brother never asked me to do the things he asked me to do that night. Again, another cold, sleepless night in the bus station. Guilt and shame. Fear and doubt. Traveling alone isn't as glamorous as it is portrayed.

Someone asks you out on a date and you feel obliged to kiss them. When they pressure your for more, perhaps a little violently, you appease and give in. Guilt and shame.

Women who find themselves in this situation are not whores. They are not 'asking for it'. But, yet, there is a certain group of women who repeatedly find themselves in similar situations. I know this, because I have had this experience more than once.
Finally, in my last relationship, when I as a result of escalating violence, I got myself enrolled into an awesome an awesome counseling program. There, I met 10 other women, who like me, had fought men off of them their entire lives. Self esteem rock bottom, guilt, fear, and shame of it repeating itself again and again. Confusion over what we've possibly had done to deserve this. In this 12 week program, I was able to finally break the cycle of violence. And with the support and insight gained in classes at my church, I am able to say, with confidence, that I know I never deserved this and I certainly have the power to prevent it.

I honestly don't know how you get over it. It hurts really bad inside of me. It's a hole, burning deep, painful place within me. I think sometimes the emotions are fanned or fueled by my repeating thoughts of unworthiness and the whole thing starts to consume my inner sanctuary. It's been crumbling down and there are cracks where the light comes in. I am burning from the inside out. Saddened by a life lived with openness, trustworthiness and general belief that people are not out to hurt me. Did they hurt me or did I allow them to hurt me, in a passive way to hurt myself? Is my self hatred that deeply ingrained into my inner psyche? Is it possible to heal?

I've been meditating lately on this one idea that when thoughts and emotions are combined they sort of cycle around and around. This can be harmless, say, for instance if it's a thought and emotion about love, peace, goodwill; but, when the thought is one that is destructive, such as "I am not worthy of love" or "I deserve this abuse" it can not only destroy one's self esteem, but it can also start to take down the entire facade of life that you've created around this belief.

Which, ironically, actually ends up working in your favor if you allow it to crumble. Because it is in the rubble where you find your truest self. It's when the light sneaks through the cracks that one finally begins to see the truth.

And it is so true, that my body has little to do with my gratitude. Gratitude is a feeling that wells up from inside of a whole, loving, peaceful person. Gratitude is not an obligation. It springs forth uncontrollably when love is reciprocated unconditionally. When the giver is the receiver and the receiver is the giver and neither one cares which one is which because the gratitude is such a beautiful feeling. I know now that if I feel obligated to give someone something in return for their favor, then I am not coming from my heart center.

"thank you
for letting me stay here
thank you for taking me in
thank you
for the beer and the food
thank you
for loaning me bus fare
thank you for showing me around
that was a very kind thing to do
thank you
for the use of the clean towel
thank you for half of your bed
we can sleep here like brother and sister,
you said.
thank you
for letting me stay here
thank you for taking me in
I don't know where else
I would have turned.
But I don't come and go
like a pop song
that you can play incessantly
and then foget when it's gone
you can't write me off
and you don't turn me on.
So don't change the rules
in an hour or two
I don't know what you and your
sisters do
but please don't
please stop
this is not my obligation
what does my body have to do
with my gratitude? "

I am sorry

  

It seems the holiday season brings out the best (and worst) in all of us.  I recently spent 6 hours in a car driving from Norcal to Socal and instead of road rage and listening to awful Christmas music, I spent about 3 of the hours forgiving.  Forgiving both myself and others who I've really not let go of for days, months, perhaps decades.  It was one of the most freeing experiences of my life.  I basically followed a short recipe:

I forgive you for ___________________________________________ because I know you didn't realize what affect it had on me.  I release __________________________________ (my fear of unworthiness, my fear of wrong-doing, my fear of not being worthy of love, etc...).  I release ______________________________ (my need to control the outcome, need to put up a facade of "worthiness", put up a facade of "perfection", etc...).   Because I know that I am perfect, whole and at peace right where I am in my connection to the Infinite Spirit.

And you know, it worked.  It really was quite powerful.   I invite you to try your own meditation of release and see what happens.

When we release our binds to the past a whole new world opens up to us.

Finally, I'd like to close this post with a few "forgive you's". 

I forgive the guy who for with whom I thought the date went well and yet he did not call me back
I forgive the woman who drove on Ocean today as if she owned the road
I forgive myself for not being enough
I forgive myself for thinking that I am not enough, when clearly I am all I ever need
I forgive friends and family who did not send me a Christmas card even though I sent them one
I forgive my mother
I forgive my mean friends in school who made fun of me
I forgive my friend's child for hitting my son
I forgive my father
I forgive the guy in college
I forgive the court and the mediator
I forgive my appearance, for even though I've been good about what I eat and exercising more, I still don't like the way my body looks in the mirror
I forgive myself for riding in the car more when it's cold when I know perfectly well I could ride my bike
I forgive my ex for being violent and then asserting that he never was
I forgive my ex's mother for creating drama
I forgive my ex's sisters for they know not what they do
I forgive Ziggy for his tantrums, even the ones at the store
I forgive Newt Gingrinch for being such an ass, even though he should really know better
I forgive the US economy for sending almost all of the jobs overseas

I know that where I am right now has nothing to do with those interactions.  I know that where I am right now is perfect.  I am at peace.  Everything that happened, already happened and I don't need to carry it around with my anymore.  I can drop all those stories and be free.

See, when you release these things.  You let them go.  They literally go away.  Yes.  It's kind of scary to let go of your 'story' because without, who might you be?  But I assure you, the levity that occurs far outweighs the doubt that may linger.  Fears, doubts, and insecurities no longer define who you are.  They no longer control the outcome of your day.  They no longer have power over who you ARE.  These are just thoughts.  They are just reactions to what is.  But what is really is what is inside of you.  You are not what happens in your life just as you are not what someone else says that you are.  You are YOU.  You are beaYOUtiful just are you are.  Know that and embrace that.

Peace.