Starbucks and Revelations

Standing in line at Starbucks, I got to talking to the man next to me. He told me that every morning he drives north to this particular Starbucks to buy his drink and breakfast before getting on the freeway to travel south again to Denver where he works – all because the staff is stellar – unbelievably friendly. “It’s not like other Starbucks.” It adds about 15 minutes to his commute to make this coffee run, but evidently it’s worth it. I’m not much of a coffee drinker, but this phenomenon fascinated me, and I started to go to this Starbucks just to observe the dynamics. And, it was true. Mostly female employees, they were like morning stars that must have risen hours before we arrived, shining down and lighting our way. The woman at the register asked one man how his birthday had been. She asked the next customer if he had found the folder he had misplaced. And, she complimented the third gentleman on his jacket. It was my turn. I thought maybe I was looking into the eyes of Venus. When the dark haired beauty, probably a student at the nearby University of Colorado asked how I was, it felt like if I had said I was having a hard day, she would have pulled me aside and urged me to vent. Her enthusiasm was sincere. I wanted to order more than a decaf Americano – like maybe a couple of salted caramel cake pops, some almonds, a CD and a veggie plate, but I reminded myself that coffee was all I wanted. “Okay Hon, that’ll be right up.” It felt like we were all swept back in time to a 50’s diner.

People long for connection and caring. Taking it a step farther, we also yearn to be accepted unconditionally.  A part of us heals when we tell our deepest (what we consider darkest) secrets to a friend, counselor, coach or spiritual advisor who can receive it without judgment. Accepted, we forgive; we’re a little easier on ourselves. It could be someone who loves us enough to know that whatever we did was what created the person we have become today. Or it might be a confession to a total stranger on an airplane or to a priest. My mother always says that the concept of Catholic confession was the precedent for counseling.

Too, we are thirsty for touch. Yoga instructors will tell you that the more people they can "assist"(helping them to move more deeply into a pose), the more likely those individuals

Balanced and Unstable

A fond memory, in a twisted sort of way, is the time my mother chased Winnie the Pooh at Disneyland because he wouldn’t take a picture with my younger daughter. The woman escorting him said he was late for a show, but that didn’t stop my mother from swinging her big bag at his head and yelling, “You ridiculous, ineffectual lump! My granddaughter wants a PHOTO with YOU!” I know from whom I inherited my colorful vocabulary. I can’t imagine what would have happened had my Mom actually made contact with the ducking hunk of fluff. Perhaps Disney police in the guise of Brutus would have swept poor Mama off and handcuffed her to the slate wall of Snow White’s palace. Moral of that story: Don’t mess with my mother’s children or grandchildren or any blood relative! I love that about her. My mother is passionate and expressive. There is nothing passive-aggressive about her. You know where you stand. And as a side note, we always felt safe around her. Evidently, she reserved her physical aggression for imposter Disney characters. She is equally loving and brilliant; a perfect nurturer.

 Mama with my niece and nephew

I was thinking about an irony of our culture: that if someone shows sadness or anger they are considered “unstable,” but when we repress emotions, a whole gamut of physical stress related conditions manifest, including chronic (particularly back) pain issues, fibromyalgia, depression, bursitis, arthritis, TMJ, IBT, eczema, tennis elbow, tendonitis, carpal tunnel syndrome, sexual dysfunction, Bells Palsy, rheumatoid arthritis and many other conditions as well as addiction issues.  We have been slow to believe the direct mind-body relationship. People stuff their emotions until feelings burst out inappropriately in a fit of misdirected rage, and then guilt ensues and nothing has been gained. Feelings are blamed as too risky. The key is...

Laughing at Murphy

Dharma Mittra

Dharma Mittra has no idea the hoops I needed to jump through to get to his yoga class yesterday morning, and it was well worth it.

On Friday evening as I was about to leave for the Yoga Journal Conference in Estes Park I saw that my ex-husband, Brian’s, house keeper was calling. And this is how the conversation unfolded:

Me: “Hello.”

Other person: “Hi. I borrowed the housekeeper’s phone to call you. This is the mail lady. Which woman is this?” (Brian got a good laugh out of that remark. Since both of our daughters are in and out of his house, he had a girlfriend for a while, I am often there, and recently his sister moved in, it's understandable that the mail lady has no idea who's who.)

Me: “This is the ex-wife, Jen.”

The Bellow(s) of Wordlessness

Martha Beck makes me feel a little less crazy... a little. In her recent book, Finding Your Way in A Wild New World: Reclaim Your True Nature to Create the Life you Want, she puts words to the experience I’ve been going through. I have been able to describe the weird dream-not-dream I was taken on in March 2006 because it was visual (if you haven’t heard that story I will write about it in a future post), but this new wordless-feeling-sense I’ve been going through now – perhaps as an outgrowth of my dream-not-dream – was too hard to describe (and evidently requires  hyphenated phrases and original words). According to Beck, Australian Aborigines call it “Everywhen.”

I remember when I first heard the word “bulimia.” I was about 20. I experienced both relief and regret that my illness had a name. I thought I was the only person on earth that did something so disgusting and then it turns out there were a bunch of people like me and I was no longer unique. What?!? If I was going to be twisted, I at least wanted to be unique. Funny that we can get attached to our addictions as readily as to our highs.

But, thankfully I recovered from bulimia 27 years ago, and I can't classify this new experience as a "high" although it is ecstatic. The love it generates is outside of attachment to what I need or what anyone does. I am relieved and excited to discover this powerful experience I am having, this “Everywhen,” is being shared. We need all the help possible – from seen to unseen forces - to shift the consciousness of our relationships and of the planet so that every being can be empowered. Every soul will shine with its unique and not so unique gifts. Neurosis - mine or anyone else's - is such old news and offers little material for art. To move to the cutting edge, we put our ear to the ground, to the heart of the earth, to each other’s chests – to fathom the depth and expanse of what is possible.

Grasshopper and dahlia at the organic Lone Hawk Farm

Here I am a writer fascinated by "wordlessness." Beck quotes a Welsh wayfinder R.S. Thomas: “The silence holds with its gloved hand the wild hawk of the mind.”

This week someone in my extended family was diagnosed with cancer. Tonight I begin co-facilitating a HospiceCare group for the newly bereaved. Yesterday I met with my three clients at the Regis lab engaged in one of the most intimate relationships on the planet. The experience I am having that I call Bellow(s) pervades all of my relationships. It is whispering (in expansive thrust), calling (in low, whale sounds) me to my deeper path. I still get sad but the love is so big that it engulfs me like the sea. I can't see it, but I can feel it. People are no longer three dimensional, but multi dimensional, accompanied by messages from their ancestors, encompassed by vivid images as though their spirits are painting in living color all around them. Everything is so ALIVE just by being ineffable inside of the experience of what IS. Becks points out that LIFE is not the opposite of death – the opposite of death is birth, so life has no opposite.

People have always joked that I don’t need to be on any drugs, and now I’m beginning to understand what they really mean!