A Summer solstice - and sojourn

The longest day of the year. I think I have had others that have felt longer. But the sun promises to shine longer today than any other day. Maybe I will rise to the challenge and join it. Maybe not. Two sips of coffee in without enough cream to make it just right, I say, it's too soon to tell. I will certainly enjoy the last few flushes of a modern toilet as I return to Flame whose toilet is, once again, on the fritz. Thank God for Shirley Septic and my now semi-permanent portapotty. I don't mind it so much during the day (when no workmen are milling around) but those middle of the night pee times that have become status quo of my mid 40's, well, that's another story. Pledging to keep the leaking tank empty for our next professional opinion, I will stumble through the dark to my plastic throne - or I may just squat along the way. It's hard to imagine all of that as I sit on my plush hotel bed a mere eight feet from a fabulous flush. And, yes, one more standup shower for this girl before I return to the seated bird bath. How different tomorrow will be from today. Did you just say 'at least you are writing regularly again'? I think I heard you say that...

I watch my roommate pack her bag for her return to England. A wild-child entrepreneur at 25 with a shock of blond hair and a sweet soul, Jo Westwood was the perfect roommate. We met virtually, on the Facebook page for the course and skyped for our first meeting. We have mostly passed in the night but our interactions have been memorable. She is launching into the stratosphere with her social media business and already is working for our fearless leader, Christina Morassi. It's because of my commitment to be Jo's roommate that I came - and it's because of Christina that I even considered it in the first place. The promise to Jo kept me driving east to the airport as I railed and seriously questioned just why I was about to jump from one silver bullet to another and hurtle through the sky before I felt ready. I even wondered if my PTSD might suddenly escalate into a full blow panic attack on the airplane. It didn't, I slept.

I met Christina at a workshop last fall. Impressed immediately by her extreme full self-expression on stage, I said 'yes' to the offer of a laser coaching session. Christina is beautiful, sassy, full on woman, and fricken real as shit. She drops the 'f-bomb' from stage as ravishingly as she wears her full length ball gowns that are her signature style. Sometimes I don't actually listen to her words, I just watch with awe at her full embodiment of all of what it means to be a woman. Also quite brilliant, a former fashion photographer, turned healing professional with shamanism and other energy modalities sprinkled in, she brought an alchemical reaction to her gifts and morphed into a mega success in a short time. She is magnetic - and a true inspiration. At this point in my journey, I would not have flown across half the country for just any old workshop. Early in my adventure, Christina and I had a few sessions. Hers was the first voice that insisted I not 'jump to form too quickly', that I shouldn't hurry my process - I have taken those wise words and run with them. Thank you Christina.

For those first few hours among 'normal folks' in the workshop, I felt like a leper. I didn't belong or fit in among these shiny (and clean) classmates. Yes, I had bathed but the stain of ash still remained on my feet and in my heart. I couldn't not talk about the fire as we shared why we were there and what we wanted to get out of the course - but the words were stuck in my craw. I chose a few steady souls and asked them to go first. Without drama, I then shared my tale. It began to ease. Christina is far from a 'normal' workshop leader so she brought all sorts of expressions to our sharing. We even danced our response to our partner at one point which was one of the most lovely moments of the workshop. I noticed myself to be more free than usual in these things I might normally label as queer. And, I also took breaks. Normally a 'good girl' and a 'good workshop attendee', I don't miss a minute as I don't want to miss THE thing that will make THE difference and alter my life FOREVER. Instead, this time, I let myself be in the room when I wanted and out when I felt the need. Then, yesterday, I stepped way out of the room. A chance opportunity to have lunch with my college roommate who just happened to be in town led to a lovely meal, then a long stroll around most of the cute shopping districts in the area. I wandered all afternoon, asking for a few pointers from shopkeepers to know if I was heading in the right direction. The perfect California weather was my companion with that cool ocean air and a warm sun. I changed clothes as I went, shedding my workshop outfit of my leopard wrap dress (sans tail for your faithful readers) and fortunately low slung heels, morphing into flip flops, burnt orange corduroy cut off shorts, and one of the best bell sleeve hippy shirts I have ever owned.

A few times panic arose as I was playing hooky. I am a bad girl! Then, I would inhale deeply, and choose to be where I was. I needed this break. I needed to be outside wandering in and out of shops. I didn't hurry. I let go of the story that I was missing something. I connected with strangers - and met one of the most fabulous dogs ever. First, I glanced at his rear as he gazed out the window. When I finished my loop around the store, I caught site of his mastiff face curled against his ladies leg and I had to stop. Turns out, she found him at a shelter. At 2-ish, he had spent most of his life on the street. Yet this was one of the biggest babies I have ever seen - and he adored her. Rolling around her feet like a cat, belly in the air, then raising his massive head for a lick on her cheek, he stole my heart. How lucky they found each other. She lost a love of her life dog shortly before finding him. With the LA lifestyle, this big baby gets to go to work with her daily and has no desire to run for the open shop door. If I could have gotten away with stealing him, and if David wouldn't divorce me for bringing home a third dog, that honey would be in my hotel bed with me right now.

Today is the last day of the workshop. I will be amongst my entrepreneurially minded peers as we soak up the last day of Christina's wisdom and love on each other. Then, I will board another silver bullet that hopefully will stay in the air for as long as we need it to then return to my very own silver bullet on my charred land.

Early on, after catching my tears and holding my pain, Christina asked me to stay in a place of wonder. Just for today, on the solstice, I can commit to that. And, because sometimes things metaphorically tie themselves up into neat little packages for a moment before they are blown apart by our next human reaction, I quote myself in the last line of my book:

 And I am restored to wonder...

As another wildfire rages out of control - WE reach out to YOU

As another wildfire rages out of control near Fort Collins, my heart breaks for those who lost homes and particularly those who lost loved ones.  At 36,930 acres and zero percent containment, this fire is a nasty one.  An ‘act of God’ sparked this blaze in the form of a random lightning bolt.  Extreme dryness coupled with high winds is the perfect breeding ground for fire.  I didn’t sleep well, thoughts of these poor folks filling my mind, knowing some of what they are experiencing, only imagining more.  Tossing and turning throughout the night, I thought of what I want to say to them and those who love them.  I wish I could shield them from the inevitable roller coaster ride that results from life chewing us up and spitting us out.   Here is what I want to say:

To those affected by the High Park Fire – those who have lost loved ones, animals and homes, or still wonder what you lost as you attempt to gather the fragments of information that are beginning to surface – our thoughts are with you. 

There are no words that are adequate.  I am sorry.  It sucks.  It’s horrific.  It’s all of that and more.  You are in the midst of it – with this fire still raging out of control and no end in site.  Many of you don’t know the status of your homes, property or animals you either couldn’t return for or were forced to leave behind.  We feel your pain.  We know the anguish. We wince as we read the news, see the pictures and smell the smoke that drifts even as far south as we are.  We understand.  We were there – and now we are further down this life-altering path.  We aren’t far enough along to have forgotten anything – and truthfully – none of us will ever forget.  We will remember that day forever.  We will remember the sounds, smells and how it felt.  The moments of evacuation – or of being unable to return to collect any belongings – will be etched in our minds forever.  The terror, the bewilderment, the not knowing, then the knowing, we remember it all.  We wish you didn’t have to go through any of this. 

You have joined a club that you never wanted to join.  Your roller coaster ride has just begun – and won’t be over for a while.  We are still on ours.  After the smoke clears and the dust settles a bit, you will still be riding the ride.  You will be dealing with your insurance companies and learning details you never ever wanted to know.  You will be asked to walk from room to room in your mind to make lists of everything you ever owned.  You will be tired – and you will get more tired.  You will wonder if you can continue on.  You will question everything.  You will wonder why, is there a God, what did you do wrong, how could this happen?  You will not want to believe it.  You will begin the mourning process.  Hopefully, you will rally together as neighbors to support each other and realize you aren’t alone.  You will understand each other, as no one else really will.  You will embrace those who were strangers previously and they will become something deeper than friends.  You will be grateful to be alive but pissed beyond belief. 

I hope you can let yourself have all of it, be all of it, and experience all of it.  There is no “right” way to walk through this.  Some of you will pop up more quickly, returning to life and moving on in ways – yet never forgetting.  Others will take longer.  Some will choose to close a chapter of your life, move to the city, or somewhere else.  Others will have no idea what direction to go.  I hope you can let yourself have whatever reactions you have and feel whatever emotions you experience.  You may be terrified, angry, depressed, devastated, detached, or dejected.  You may be all of those things in a 15-minute period.  Some days you will see the light at the end of the tunnel, and others it will be black as night.  Let it be.  Let yourself be. 

The land will take a while to heal – can you let yourself take as long?

I speak to those whose hearts take longer to heal.  Let it take what it takes.  Don’t try to rush through it.  Don’t compare yourself to how someone else is doing.  Don’t judge or make yourself wrong for anything.  Surround yourself with people who will let you be however and whoever you need to be.  Don’t waste your time with those who don’t get it.  Life is too short for that. 

Some more suggestions:

1.     Don’t make any rash decisions – you will be raw for a while.  Save the major decisions for a little further down the path.  Give yourself a little time to breathe.

2.     Get support – both professional and personal.  Allow your community to support you.  Take advantage of resources that are offered.  Seek counseling.  There is nothing wrong with needing help.

3.     Make lists of everything.  Carry a notebook everywhere you go.  Write down thoughts you have, things to-do, anything that comes to mind.  Write down all the people who offer to assist.  Many people will offer many things in the beginning and you will NOT remember who said what.  You will continue to need things, support, time and maybe even money later on.  You probably won’t want a lot right away.  Don’t turn people away – write it down so you can revisit later.  Tell them you will get back to them at some point.  And then do that. 

4.     Pace yourself.  You will be quite tired in a way you have never experienced before.  There is nothing wrong with you – your system is in overload.  This is normal. 

5.     Try to sleep.  This is a tough one – but rest when you can. 

6.     Attempt to settle as soon as possible in a place where you can unwind.  If you are truly comfortable in a friend’s spare bedroom, this is fine but often no matter how lovely our friends are, eventually you will need your own space. 

7.     Find an outlet – whether it is exercise, going to movies, reading – or like for me – writing.  I started writing 6 days after our fire and haven’t stopped since.  Sixty-thousand words later, I still have more to say.  If this is your thing, let yourself do it.  Get the thoughts out there.  Share your pain.  I promise, it helps.

8.     Expect that people in their well-meaning ways will say a lot of tings that don’t seem so supportive.  Give this list to your friends if it helps.  Bring humor (when you are ready) to deal with the silly things that come out of people’s mouths.  Some of those will be:

a.     “Well at least you _______ (fill in the blank).”  At least you got out alive, at least you got your dogs, at least you have your health….  Just breathe when someone begins a sentence this way and move on.  You will hear it a lot.  It is annoying – and it will keep happening.   (I have blogged extensively on this one in particular so you can read more about that at www.walkingthroughfire.com Look at June 11th’s entry.

b.     “Well you had insurance, didn’t you?”  This question can leave you feeling that the asker has no concept of the magnanimity of what you are now dealing with.  And they don’t.  They can’t.  Unless someone has gone though this, they have no idea.  It’s not like a fender bender where you can put your house in the shop and come back to find it good as new. 

c.      “It must be so freeing to not have any stuff.” Or some variation of this…  I was told I would hear this – and I have, multiple times.  Often, it comes in the form of musings that seem to occur in front of you.  People are attempting to look for the silver lining.  Kindly ask them not to do that right now, for you.  You will find your own silver lining in your own damn time.  You do not need to be told.  And, no, it isn’t really that freeing.

d.     The question, “How are you?”  This is a tough one.  It’s what we humans ask each other all the time and most of the time, we don’t really mean it and certainly don’t want to know.  I have asked my people to skip this question entirely and get right to the point. 

The truth is people don’t know what to say, what to do, or how to help – and most people genuinely want to contribute something.  Mostly they mean all the above with kindness in their heart, it’s just that they can be clueless at times.  Have people with whom you can really unwind and let go.  Bitch about what you need to bitch about.  Vent when you need to.  Scream, yell and cry at whim. 

9.     Say YES to support. And, keep saying yes, over and over and over again.  You will need help.  You will want help, even if you don’t want it now.  Mostly, let people love you.  Let them contribute to you.  They really really want to. 

Just as those who walked through previous fires have been (and still are) there for us, we are here for you.  Reach out if you want, we will answer.  We want you to know that one day, you will smile again.  Just not right now. 

With love in my heart, tears in my eyes and sadness in my soul,

Kristen Moeller

waitingforjack@gmail.com

North Fork Fire, March 26^th 2012

I know I am not alone cause Michael Franti says so

I have found God and his name is Michael Franti.  I have found heaven and it is called Red Rocks.  I speak the truth, my people.  Let it be known.  Shout it from the mountaintops.   The lost have been found.  In the form of a 6’6” dreadlocked artist, Franti reminds us simultaneously of the darkness in the world, the depth of human emotions, and the glory of true joy.  He seems to hold all spaces equally without judgment. There is room for the love-struck teenybopper, the 89-year-old fan, the first date, the wheelchair bound, the pot smoking hippies culture par duex and more.  We are all welcome.  The bad day, good day, high on life or in the trenches, we stood shoulder to shoulder through the 3-hour show and danced our butts off, following his decree to raise our hands, jump, and make some noise.  Smiles glued to faces, knowing looks as we passed each other in the crowded aisles, joy was found at Red Rocks last night.  Franti sang simple odes of understanding the human condition:

And when the rain falls down

You know the flowers are gonna bloom

And when the hard times come

You know the teacher’s in the room

And when the sun comes up

You know that I’ll be there for you

Don’t let it go, oh no

He spoke directly to those going through struggles and pleaded with us to not give up.  I think we all agreed last night.  Red Rocks is a magical place.  My first experience there was in the mid 80’s as a college student.  It’s a blur for sure as drinking and drugging were my companions at any concert but the magical venue left it’s mark.  If you have never been to a concert there, you must at least do it once in your lifetime.  Musicians love it.  The natural rock formations create a perfect amplification of sound.  Many claim it as their favorite venue.  For most Coloradans, and those lucky enough to visit our fine state, it is definitely our favorite. 

David and I needed the alchemy of a concert at Red Rocks.  And, not just any concert.  Franti filled the bill.  Not only are his lyrics a peek into the real deal of our human condition, his presence and love for his audience was palpable.  He was amongst the crowd multiple times, hugging people, singing in our faces, shaking hands.  He popped up in various locals throughout the venue and stayed in each place long enough to make the entire stadium feel they had front row seats.  He invited people come up on stage and share the mic for a few lines.  He thanked us with genuine gratitude after each song – and he played and played and played.  We were with dear friends so the night was even more special.  After a day of relatively high angst, it was the panacea.  Thank you Michael. 

I met a friend's judgment yesterday.  It came swiftly from an old place in a well-rutted relationship.  We both have our roles we play and we both predictably, in times of stress or strain, trigger the shit out of each other.  It seems like we “should” be able to get along.  We are both great people, yet we often come from very different places which occur as opposite opinions.  And, they aren’t really that opposite, it just ends up that way.  Two wills, not hearing each other in the least, attempting to say what we need to say, but no real messages are received.  We end up frustrated having gathered more “evidence” for our opinion about who and how the other is.  Oh that dance is so fun.  Not.  The dance we unconsciously choose is the same dance we always do – and after stomping all over each others toes - we complain to our respective parties.  We may do this dance forever. 

This is one of those relationships where I often find myself “wishing” it were different.  It seems like we should be the best of friends.  For many years, I was heartbroken about that (which is an oh so attractive way to be with another…).  I have had seriously wonderful times with this person, sharing deep familiar laughter that only a long-time relationship can produce.  And, I get over the top hooked beyond belief when we have our ‘little’ altercations.  I let these interactions take me south into obsessive-land, replaying the conversation over and over again.  And did I mention over and over and over again all the while hoping for resolution to occur solo in my noggin, which as you know, isn't the best place to seek resolution.

Proud to be relatively peaceful last night after consciously letting it go multiple times, I then wondered what Michael would say about it all.  I am sure he would understand.  He would say that love is all that matters.  He would get the darkness, the angst and would probably give a big sweaty bear hug and a peck on the cheek.  Then he would write some lyrics.  As I write my ‘lyrics’ this morning, I wonder, can I let go enough to let love be the thing that shows up?  Can I let go of my hurt feelings and my ongoing dilemma of feeling misunderstood in this relationship?  Will I? 

I need to remember that this person is not a place I should go to for deep understanding.  This has inherent irony and therein lies my trap.  But really, we are too similar and then, alas, too different.  I am learning to celebrate my “all of it” ness in life.  If this recent life occurrence doesn’t continue to open me to that then there is really no point.  It’s what I am supposed to be doing on my trip round the sun.  I know that in my bones.  And, the messy humanity thing isn’t everyone’s cup of tea.  Some people like it neat and tidy.  Others like it empowered and transformed all the time.  Talking to one of my clients yesterday, we agreed on our attraction to teachers who are real.  Both sick of the distant guru who shines light down from the mountaintop and claims to have left their troubles way way way back in the past.  They spread the message of what’s possible yet leave no room for the “down” days – or moments. 

Yes, I do believe that there is no ‘good’ day or ‘bad’ day only our thinking makes it so.  And, I believe in not having to be perfect all the time too.  Thank the good lord above, most recently manifested in the visage of Michael Franti, that I have lots of peeps around me who preach the same gospel.  We want the real deal.  We want to be heard and listened to in our angst and darkness and messy humanity.  And, we want to be known as who we really are but certainly not told to snap out of it. 

I met a man yesterday who openly shared his pain with me.  A stranger across a counter, he causally said something about life being difficult.  As those who go through life traumas can attest, this is how it seems in some moments.  Again refer to paragraph 8, line 1 above and remember I get it.  And… Do you think that I should have said to this man, “you should look for the silver lining in life” as a way to turn him around and force feed appreciation and gratitude instead of for a moment pausing and being with his pain?  Certainly not, in this not so humble human’s opinion.  Instead, I stopped and spent time with him.  I listened and asked questions.  And, I chose not to tell him any of my woes.  He knew I got it.  His spirit wasn’t destroyed either.  He and his wife lost everything after an almost fatal accident two years ago.  He spent months in the hospital, lost his 6-figure business, the bank took his house and then the repo men showed up and carted away all his stuff.  He is living with his kids and struggles emotionally with the massive changes in his life.  He is making his way back to stability but is far from going out on his own again.  At his age, he may not make it all the way back.  He misses the freedoms of his previous life – and is still able to see the gifts of his new life. 

I will not shut him down or feed him an empowering line.  I will not expect him to be somewhere other than he is.  I will have patience with his process and I will recognize that sometimes emotional scars take longer to heal than the physical scars.  I will nod knowingly but not try to one-up his pain.  I re-promise to have unwavering compassion for people’s stuck places.  I will forgive my friend for not knowing how to be with my stuff and his not so well hidden expectation that I be somewhere else - like an attitude of gratitude perhaps???  How about we don’t enforce that on someone else.  We could be the example – and kindly choose not to have to spell it out for someone else.  The spiritual principle of ‘shut up’ is sometimes the best we can hope for. 

I will search Franti’s lyrics for THE answer.  I am sure it is in there somewhere.  I will let you know when I find it.