The Oh-Oh file...

Last year, when Mars died unexpectedly, I realized that living on my own has some implications around making plans for dying on my own. As half of a couple, Dave and I at least had a sense of where the bank records, insurance documents, etc existed, and if one or the other of us were to die, the other could work out the financial paperwork on his or her own, without too much trouble.

It's been nearly a year since Mars passed, and I haven't completed the Oh-Oh file yet. Recently, I took a tumble that turned out okay, but could just as easily have been really not okay, and now I'm motivated all over again.

So, what's in the Oh-Oh file? a roadmap to information, essentially. An emergency contact list, bank accounts, online passwords, life insurance, a will (gotta update that, too), where to find the deed to the house, title to the truck, all that boring stuff.

When Mars died, some of his family apparently knew his Facebook sign-in info, and posted lovely updates and the invitation to the Life Celebration. That was nice, so I'll include social networking account info, too.

I don't intend to need this file for many many more years. But creating it feels like a grown-up thing to do. And I do plan to grow up sometime in the next twenty years or so...

Big Rocks

Lately, I've been meditating on my calendar / work life / play life. I don't have any answers or decisions, but I'm asking questions I hadn't anticipated needing to answer when I left Dave and set up my new 5-year plan. Only two years into it, and I'm rethinking.

I thought I wanted to work A LOT, on a variety of professional projects (research, professional writing, personal writing, UO, Alaska, consulting, workshops) and develop the dog kennel (hiking, showing, breeding, puppy sales), travel once a year with Jake and Sara and a multi-day hike once a year on my own (with 'Hounds). Time with Jake and Sara, extended family, friends. Though most of that is still on my list, I've got this new thing to work in and adjustments to make around spending time with someone else. I'm not sure how to do all of that yet. Except that I need to consider carefully the impact of potential increased work commitments starting this Fall.

And part of me hesitates to make big changes that may close an avenue, because I am aware that each of these activities could disappear from the list for any number of reasons. Gam zeh ya'avor (this too shall pass)...

But hedging my bets feels like only half-assed focus / commitment, which of course may have its own consequences.

For now, I'll just muddle through what's currently on the calendar, and accept my changing focus ~ and develop better skill in managing my calendar, rather than letting my calendar manage me. A friend talks about putting the big rocks into the vase first. If you think of your day as a vase, and your "to do" items as a variety of materials (big rocks, pebbles, sand, water), then the formula is like this: Big rocks are those things that refresh our souls, but that we tend to not put on our calendar (in our vase), because we are busy with the tasks that have due dates... represented by pebbles, sand and water. You can put in the pebbles to your day, add sand, fill in with water, and not have room for the big rocks. But, if you put in the big rocks first (exercise, time with friends, meditation, walks with dogs, etc), then the pebbles and sand and water can fill around those.

It's a matter of priorities. Those items not in the day's vase may be very important to my well-being, but leaving them out means I have chosen another priority.

I dunno. This is all kinda new: challenging and exciting and chaotic and scary and comforting all at once. I am blessed and cursed with unlimited possibilities.

Okay. One day at a time. Big rocks first...

Protections

I am the first to admit that I am not brave; I wait until I must take some action or make some change, and then I make the change. But I have tended to ignore those situations until I finally get to the point that change is inevitable and necessary.

And then I choose a new direction. I think bravery would be to recognize when a relationship is going south before I get to the point of no return. I'm working on it...

Three or four years ago, I got to one of those forced forks in the road, where something had to change. After two years of negotiations, I finally understood that the only change I could control was within me. Change my circumstances, change my plans, change my goals. Change my job and my marital status. Scary changes, but at that point, absolutely necessary.

After resettling in West Eugene, with two new jobs, I developed some protections to keep myself safe and to reduce emotional risk. I worked a lot. I took hula. I played with my dogs, worked on the farm, built fences. I spent as much time with Jake and Sara as possible (and as they allowed -- they are, after all, pretty busy people). I spent time with dear friends and family. My calendar and plans kept me safely cocooned.

I did not reach out to meet new people (neither men- nor women-people). Then, sometime in September, I decided I needed to break out of isolation. Taking lessons from Jake, I met new folks, asked questions, learned. And broadened my horizons.

On January 1, I practiced this new skill at Breitenbush, where I was spending three days in a meditation retreat. And a whole new world has opened up – a world I am busy exploring.

Protected

I built walls around myself–

invisible walls

strong walls

protective walls

hung with calendars and to-do lists

activities and commitments

My walls have doors and windows–

locked doors

narrow windows

of leaded glass

I wear the keys to my locks and knobs

on a fine chain hung from my heart

Within my walls, behind locked doors

I built my nest

I built my life

I rebuilt my self

removing masks, I hid old façades away

and faced myself by myself

And then I slip'd into the world–

into starlight

into chaos

into magic

leaving my door unlocked and window open

calendar pages floating away.

kim

February 2010

Fear Place?

A recent conversation ended in an assessment I hadn't considered -- I was told that it is nice that I don't go to my "fear place" and take offense at statements. Which has me thinking about the journey I've been on for the last decade of my life.

I think I was exceedingly skilled at stuffing stress down, building walls around the pieces of my life so that I could keep issues and fears at bay, and also so I would never really have to look at those issues and fears.

One catalytic event in May 2006 caused the walls to crack, and I found it increasingly impossible to keep things separate. Like the levies of New Orleans, a little overflow soon eroded the whole system, and I had to either rebuild, or learn to enjoy the floodwaters.

I think that the "fear place" is different than the fear or hesitation or caution I feel when I force myself into uncomfortable situations, either personally or professionally (and which Jacob addresses with "Don't be afraid"). I think maybe the fear place is that little dark spot inside where you are convinced that you are not good, that hinted criticisms or vague critiques get blown into very negative assumptions and hurt feelings. The first is an action, the second a reaction.

I spent a lot of time in my fear place back then. And easily took offense, though not in an assertive, "you can't talk to me like that" kind of way. Rather, I think I took offense at criticisms because I believed all the criticisms to be true.

I have grown up a lot since then. And realize now that I can not change someone else's behavior or attitudes or beliefs. I can only work on presenting an honest view of me. And I can state my boundaries out loud, though I still need to let others decide if they can live with my boundaries. And if they can't, then I have learned to let go of those relationships.

So, do I have a fear place anymore? I suppose I must, but I haven't visited it in so long, I think I've forgotten the path.

Balancing and Focusing

I'm well into my second year as an independent, professional, single woman. My goal has been to develop balance and peace in my life... balancing work with family and friends and hobbies, and making the time to meditate twice a day (usually). At a minimum, I plan to never have shingles again. More broadly, though, I aim to have the time to make time -- so that I am not constantly multi-tasking, and when I am speaking with important people in my life, it is obvious that I am speaking with a person who is important to me.

What does that look like? It means I'm not typing while holding a conversation. It means I am present – here – and connected.

I think that is making a difference in my relationships with friends and family.

Of course I am not at 100% efficacy in this new plan, yet. But that is what I am working on (sort of a New Year's resolution...)

And of course, as in every year, I am working to improve my handwriting.

Learnings

L'dor v'dor

(Hebrew: from generation to generation)

(Also one of my favorite prayer songs)

(and not one-directional...)

Recently, life-teachers seem to surround me, and at the front of the line are Jake and Sara. I've written about Jake's motto (Don't be afraid), and about Sara's efforts to live her life mask-free, even (or especially) around her friendships with young men.

And of course, I've mentioned my own experiments in removing my masks and unfolding from the contorted happydance in which I had become too practiced. Those changes in me had domino effects on so many of the pieces of my life, that sometimes I doubted the wisdom of making those changes, and my own ability to abandon my old ways all-together.

So, is it working? Is honest and direct communication effective?

I think sometimes people are off-put by directness, particularly from women. In my teens, several young men confessed being intimidated by something in me. And the man I was dating before I met Dave thought that I could be the perfect wife, if I were just less opinionated and more accommodating (he wanted me to become Catholic and a military Officer's Wife) (no f-ing way).

Anyway, I've been working on me. Not on "improving" me, but on just being me. And on not letting life pass me by. Learning from Sara and Jake, I am just who I am, the same me for everyone I meet. Either that is interesting to another or not. Best to find out up front, rather than change to fit what I think another is looking for. As Jake has said, "There are 6 Billion people on earth; I don't need to be your friend."

I'm here to say, "It works."

Truths

Truths

The four noble truths

of an ancient belief

are mirrored in

one from mine:

Thou shalt let go of desire.

Dreams of the future

are only a shadowed hope

in the light of now.
Let go of desire.

The ancient truth

of a fictional belief

daily lived by

a child of mine:
Fear is the Mind-killer.

Caution holds me still

Regrets and desperate fear –

Stride forth anyway...

Fear is the mind-killer.

The inner truth

of a hard-won belief –
to hold back wrongful

actions of mine:
Love must be a warming fire.

Like a golden light

arising from within us,

love flows around me
–
Love is a warming fire.

The final truth

of my heart’s belief,
my daughter’s voice

at one with mine:

Love is the soul-healer.

Love grows in safety,

in peaceful comfort mellows

to gentle balance;
Love is the soul-healer.