My Gold

The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still -Exodus 14:14. 

Marshall was a cloud gazer. He was often telling me what different shapes of animals, trees, even God's eyelashes he could see in the clouds above him. I think in fact, he was tuning out of the outer world in order to allow the inner intuitive mind to drift and dream. The art of being still and imagining a better, beautiful world seems to be further and further away from our society. I did this often in my childhood and I think it is something I need to start doing again; to forget the conditions, the lines I'm not supposed to color through, to play and color past the lines again. I need to educate my heart more instead of just my mind.

"Real doing comes from stillness -- not endless busyness or even reading". One moment where I felt exposed, raw, and visceral was the moment I birthed my son. I threw off all my clothes and had my husband throw- not lightly sprinkle, but THROW ice in my face. That moment strengthened my soul in a way words can't describe. When Kezman was put in my arms, I felt as if I was powerful enough to hold the whole world in my arms and care for it. A primal moment that no technology or virtual connection could touch. I had a birthing music playlist that added to the moment being the closest to existentialism I've ever experienced in my own body. I remember his blue body being limp and I was wondering if he had survived the grueling days of contractions and hours of posterior pushing. 

They wouldn't allow Marshall to cut the umbilical chord and quickly whisked our baby to the neonatal unit since his Apagar score was a 2. That was the day his dad said his son had his first experience of becoming a gentleman. Kezman's Apagar score rose to an 8 after meconium was removed from his nose and throat. As quickly as they whisked him away, our son gave up his neonatal bed for another baby girl who was born very prematurely and would be in the unit a long time. He came back and I remember his pink skin, looking at all his hair, and being happy that it looked like he had acquired his mother's nose and toes. Feeling his smooth skin and his baby breath was euphoric. For a moment in my life, my soul was balanced. I felt like a bird in flight, soaring above the pain, the sweat, blood and the tears up, up, above the clouds and so happy to be looking down from my place in the sky. It didn't matter what happened next or before...all that mattered was that moment. I had created something that was more valuable to me than gold is to the alchemist that made it.  

"Stay at your table and listen. Don't even listen, just wait, be completely quiet and alone. The world will offer itself to you to be unmasked." -- Kafka

Heal

 "It is returning, at last it is coming home to me -- my own Self and those parts of it that have long been abroad and scattered among all things and accidents." - Nietzsche

I am healing a splitting wound. I am on a healing journey that turned into a dramatic roller coaster for the last five turns (years), but the stabilization post the ups and downs has been difficult to obtain within myself. Sometimes I re-live these negative ups and downs instead of putting them behind me and re-inventing the life I had planned with Marshall. I desire to be enabled by his memory instead of disabled by it. I have the power to choose my attitude in any given circumstances as Marshall taught me all too well.

“A man is literally what he thinks, his character being the complete sum of all his thoughts.”

― James Allen, As a Man Thinketh

So in order to fully heal I must change my thoughts from within. In order to be empowered, these memories of Marshall must have meaning and the way I choose to VIEW our story must have purpose. Right before the pandemic, I took a trip to Palm Springs (which is now a squelching 122 degrees!) and saw the following quote in a quaint, wooden restroom outside the time traveling Integratron: A Native American grandfather is talking to his grandson about how he feels about a tragedy in their village. "I feel as if I have two wolves fighting in my heart. One wolf is the vengeful, angry, violent one. The other wolf is the loving, compassionate one." The grandson asks, "Grandfather, which wolf will win the fight in your heart?" The grandfather places his hand on his heart and replies, "The one I feed."

How do we learn to feed the good wolves in our lives? How can I personally feed our story so that the tragedy my son and I experience in our lives of not having his father can be one of healing and growth; of learning and re-inventing? I attended a life-changing class at that retreat in Palm Springs. It was not the class that focused on social media, it wasn't the one that used all the fancy gadgets and high technology mediums, nor was it the one that taught me to make all the money. 

No.

It was the simple, down to earth class taught by a beautiful member of a tribe in Palm Springs. She guided me to a place where I truly believed that my story was MAGIC! Including the tragic parts. Including the parts that may not have been as beautiful that made the otherwise simple, normal parts appear even more beautiful. If I can believe that my tragic story is beautiful after hearing that I am living someone's worst nightmare, then YOU can believe you have magic in your story too! No matter what your home, your community, your tribe looks like we each have the power to make our world great! The stories we tell ourselves have just as much power as our biology and environment.

What walls (stories) have we built up around ourselves that we can't escape, that tower all around us? Are we also telling ourselves that these walls can't fall? We don't need to be hard on ourselves for building them. At the time we built them they protected us from harm. Becoming aware of them and deciding if they still need to be there or not is a step in the right direction. Do we need the trumpets that played in Jericho millions of years ago to make our walls fall? 

No.

We simply need to know that WE are the creator of our own lives. That WE have the power to DO the things that make a difference in our perspective and deciding how we view the world and the way the world works. Life is short and what we do with the little time we have here matters. It matters that you give instead of take. It matters that true joy comes from unlocking others' joy instead of focusing on what we get.

As I think of going through this pandemic without Marshall and making decisions for my son without him, I see that my emotions have taken another rollercoaster ride. I am getting off the ride, stepping back and re-inventing our story. What I lack in my perspective is that I have the power to decide whether today is a time of tumult, of stomping around blowing rams horns until the cities walls fall down and the city is burned or if today is a time to step off the ride.

The stomping around, rioting, etc. are not an exaggeration. They happened in cities around the world. In LA where we moved here from, the city went on total lock down and the national guard was present. In Chicago where I currently attend online school, the students aren't welcome to live on campus and rioting is still present. The population to be hardest hit by this virus where I live is the Navajo nation in Page, Arizona. Many of us are shut up inside due to the coronavirus just like the time of Jericho. Trumpets literally fell from angel's hands during this pandemic due to earthquakes. 

Step back and ask yourself how you will tell this story of tumultuous times. Will it be from the perspective of a victim? Did you suffer sickness or loss? We lost the rock of our family five years ago and are still rebuilding. As we grow further from 2020 and you have some distance from it all how will your version of the story change? How are you living today to give that story a positive spin?

I have had five years since Marshall died and my version of our story is changed. In my heart, I am more grateful for the time I had instead of dismayed by the time I lost. The pain is still there, but I will choose to have a painting of beauty from the ashes. We all need different amounts of time to process our experiences, grief, and hardships to ultimately discover the nuggets of joy that lie along our journey and find healthier patterns than we previously lived. The negativity doesn't leave. I may not ever move on from the pain, but I am discovering my pain can lie dormant as I build happier, healthier moments and patterns on top of the hurt. Have compassion for yourself and others who haven't yet moved on from the negativity and who are embracing unhealthy patterns still. Let's teach each other to slowly feed the good wolves instead of the bad wolves.

For Jericho, for Marshall, for our tribes, for our world. It is time to reinvent and rebuild. Our cities, our minds, our world won't look the way they did before and that is where the beauty lies! In order to re-emerge anew the views will be different and heal our splitting wounds; changing our thoughts from within, visioning and creating a new story that is feeding the good wolves instead of the bad ones in each of us. 

"As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he". JA

AJ

Encouraging Widows

Encouraging Widows

Well, I did it! I collaborated with 18 other women on my first book! It's available for purchase here: https://www.amazon.com/Encouraging-Widows-Words-Women-Whove/dp/1711007560/ref=sr_1_2?crid=321ZYTQ2B5YDJ&keywords=encouraging+widows&qid=1579698854&sprefix=Encouraging+Widows%2Caps%2C499&sr=8-2

This just kindled a fire in me to finish my own book this year.
In 2020, my word is consistency. Consistency in writing, exercise, and especially with my son.

Dear Rat Race

Dear Rat Race,

Today I raise my white flag of surrender
The older I get, the less 'stuff' I want
Working endless hours with no time for life
Is it worth the hours taken from family to buy, buy, buy?

Today I watched a "house tour" on Youtube
The tour already has 2 Million Views
The home could comfortably house 5 families
Alas, there are 3 people who live there

Juxtapose that to my afternoon class
I spent an hour discussing health issues
People who are smart, but can't afford a place
Because of their zip code!

The exact same number of homeless people in LA
Match the number of empty "luxury" apartments--
Complexes that sit empty because no one can afford them
I've been spending 3.5 years trying to make sense of life again.

Ridiculous Rat Race!
I'm raising my white flag.
Cleanliness and adequate.
Peace Out!!

This may Be oversimplified, but it’s what you give not what you get.

Ensuring Genetic Perfection

What is genetic perfection? When are gene edits too much? How many flaws will medicine allow until we achieve an acceptable amount of editing human DNA? Eighty thousand genes spread among twenty six hominid chromosomes complicate our search for the answers to these questions.

This month a new world committee established by the World Health Organization will be meeting to establish more guidelines after the first Chinese gene edits on baby twins. The first test tube baby was produced in 1978. Just as people were shocked and afraid of the new technology then, similar reactions are happening now. Mankind is discovering more about the creation and editing of life. As in many areas of our rapidly changing world, we must take the time to analyze when and how some steps forward have the possibility of morphing into steps backward. Cellular phone usage is an example where technology can be more addictive than smoking and be used for grandiose positive world change at the same time. The usage and ultimate consequences of gene editing are a double edged sword analogous to cell phone usage--both having favorable and unfavorable outcomes.

First, mothers' experience with their gene-edited babies is sure to be full of anguish. Gene edits mock the very DNA of the parents who create their children. The simple joys of differences in human experience may be replaced by devastating sorrow if their babies are not "perfect". Speculate on what perfection is and how boring the world would be if we were to rid humanity of our so-called flaws. In fact, flaws nearly dominate many of the greatest men who have ever lived: Abraham Lincoln's marfan syndrome, Stephen Hawkins' amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, the alleged handicaps of Albert Einstein, Isaac Newton's and Alex Honnold's probable aspergers, etc. Variation often make life exciting. Mankind learns to become compassionate towards others who hold contrasting views. My son's perspective and value of life has more meaning when he socializes with his cousin. Interacting with this little girl, who has little use of her legs teaches him patience and kindness to those who are different than himself. It teaches him gratitude without even saying a word. How else can these priceless lessons be learned? Are we taking away from the depth of human experience by taking away genetic flaws?

Secondly, let's explore the idea of using medical technology to correct genetic flaws.  In-vitro fertilization and genetic makeup testing give hope to mothers dealing with infertility or who want to choose not to pass on certain genes. Admittedly, this idea may be difficult for one who has not experienced this circumstance, but not for a mother raising a child with health problems and development delays. The available technology is comforting. What can be wrong with offering hope? Professor Arthur Miller says, the technology is way in advance of legal understanding. This also leads to the recent law passed in New York legalizing abortions up to forty weeks. What are the ramifications of this law for a mother carrying what she might consider to be a genetically flawed fetus? Our family experienced rays of hope when after two stem cell transplants we had the option of trying a t-cell therapy using gene-edits in t-cells in hopes of eradicating blood cancer cells.

Finally, every step in genetic research is bold and full of unknown implications. Test-tube babies have been more widely accepted and used for in-vitro fertilization, and have provided hope for infertility issues. Will editing human DNA provide more hope? Falling down the medical rabbit hole allows us to admit that medical remedies are sometimes beyond our understanding in the field of bioethics and the law. I attended the 20th annual conference of the American Society for Bioethics and Humanities where one of the major legal addresses included reproduction and the assisted reproductive technologies and issues concerning vulnerable population including individuals with disabilities by Paul A. Lombardo, PhD, JD. The theme for the symposium was, "The Future is Now" mimicking the font from the well-known film "Back to the Future". Gene-editing is a type of time travel where we are predicting, even controlling, what will happen in the future. In some ways this is an appealing goal to obtain, but we must be judicious in our perspective of traits allowed and taken in life.

Music for Marshall 2018

I muster up all my strength to lug the heavy keyboard back up that last stair. It is finished. Another year has come and gone and another Music for Marshall is over. It's the third one without him. Which means we are now even. Three with him alive and three with him dead. Cyndi pointed this out to me during the night and I had to wrap my feelings around that. I just can't believe it. Do I continue this tradition? He was the most fabulous performer and every year I miss his guitar skills and his musical abilities more and more. Something pushes me forward up the last stair as the feelings of missing him perform and singing with him overcomes my tired body. I fall in a crumpled mass on the couch at the top of the stairs and weep for what's been lost from our family.

His son was adamant about writing a song and performing it this year. I should prevail in this endeavor even if it's just to encourage my son to develop his musical abilities. Music will be something they can share together from either side of the veil and I hope he will feel a connection to his father as he discovers his talents.

Happy Birthday Marshall. You would have turned 34 today. We miss you every day.

If We Are the Body

Casting Crowns

It's crowded in worship today
As she slips in trying to fade into the faces
The girls' teasing laughter is carrying farther than they know
Farther than they know

But if we are the body
Why aren't His arms reaching?
Why aren't His hands healing?
Why aren't His words teaching?
And if we are the body
Why aren't His feet going?
Why is His love not showing them there is a way?
There is a way.

A traveler is far away from home
He sheds his coat and quietly sinks into the back row
The weight of their judgmental glances
Tells him that his chances are better out on the road

JESUS PAID MUCH TOO HIGH A PRICE
FOR US TO PICK AND CHOOSE WHO SHOULD COME
AND WE ARE THE BODY OF CHRIST
JESUS IS THE WAY