IMPERFECT Lady

Be Here Now.

Self worth, what is self worth and how do we decide what makes us valuable?  Is there a scale we step upon and find out if we are worthy or not?  Who decides if we have hit the mark, or maybe better who decides if we haven’t?

 

Self-worth, self-realization, self-esteem, self-actualization, the common denominator in all those words is self.

 

How is it possible that the self is the one beating the self up, berating, hating, wishing and dreaming for another self?

 

Does that then mean we have a self, and then we have an idealized self?

 

Somehow we were taught not to be ok with how we are right now, but to strive to always look beyond the here and now, beyond who we are today into a future of dreams and wishes.

 

What if we stopped searching and seeking to become something we aren’t and instead sought to look instead to the right here and the right now, to look inward instead of outward, to feel our bodies operating, to see all that we have today.  What if we focused on now?

 

Can we start right here and right now, starting with who you are now, not who you want to be, or where you want to go, or what you want to wear, to what car you want to drive? And again, who is the You that will ride in the car, wear the clothes and move?

 

Who are you?  Who are you without the labels, the roles you play, the actions and words of each day?  Who are you when you are in neutral?

 

Who are you before you think I need a better car? 

 

Is it possible to meet the person you?  Or is that person hidden behind a million conditions, buried under the weight of wanting something different than what is?  Where is the person of your birth, the little girl, where is she gone and what is lying upon her?

 

I was blessed to have my whole world come crashing down, for it left me in neutral, in a state of don’t know.

 

I didn’t know who I was or what I would eventually become, it seemed my whole world was stripped away and I lay naked, bruised and confused. 

 

The job of covering up or looking away from the whole mess was too big, it seemed easier to bring it all in, to define myself from that point.  I didn’t have another choice.  I was a woman whose whole past was a mess, it was my starting point, if I had an idealized self, it was one that wouldn’t be defined only by the mess, but rather of one who went beyond.

 

I went beyond and learned about myself.

 

I now know myself and simply understand that I am who I am because of where I came from, what I was taught, the experiences of my youth, the life I led, and I simply had to realize that, to own it, to embrace my life fully and wholly, and not one part did I leave out.

 

Self- realization or actualization or worth, is the total of who you are today standing here in your full glory.

 

The good the bad and the ugly, with the past that can’t be changed, or wished differently, begin here.

 

Begin to see yourself here.  “You are here” just like in the maze at a Mall.  You are here.  Imagine being here and wanting to be somewhere else, or someone else, and the spot moves where you move.  You are here!

 

As you stand as the spot called here, look at you, look and see where you are, who you are with, what you are? 

 

The spot of here moves where you move and it never stops.

The spot of here is the present moment and it never leaves you.  In the spot of present moment is the real you, that too never leaves the spot.

 

The real you travels along on the spot of here and it is only in our heads, our dreaming heads that want or wish for something else, but we are really on the spot of here, being who we are right now, the real you is the you today.

 

My self worth is the me that has gathered together 50 years of experience on this planet, the lessons I have learned, the sorrows I have suffered, the happiness and joyful memories, the friendships I have gained, the ones I have lost, all make up me!  How can I be worthless? 

 

 

Maybe self-realization is to realize your worth, for you to see you, to hear you, to hold on to the you of today on this spot of time called now.

 

Be here now.

Miracle

Is it one grand dream and a gazillion views and dialogues about what is actually happening?  Do we each as individuals see it from our own perspective with a story that we have come to know as our lives? 

 

When we die, is it only our view that dies?  The stage or backdrop or perhaps tapestry like one author described it, stays as is.  We were born onto a certain place on the tapestry and we travel and live there, but in the end, we drop off and the tapestry remains.

 

Just a person with one view of the bigger dream, a speck on the tapestry called Earth.

 

Now what is the purpose of the tapestry?  Do we come here to make the tapestry a prettier one? Do we come here for a set purpose?  Do we choose what it is we are going to learn prior to arrival?  Who were we before the tapestry and after we leave it?

 

Perhaps there are many views on this as well. 

 

In my life alone I have had many different views of this tapestry.  So then it may depend upon your level of awareness or being conscious.  It seems the more you know the kinder the tapestry becomes and the more you see your self as a multifaceted individual living a life upon a grand and wonderful stage, being directed it seems by the Universe.

 

As I sit here today and look around, I see it as a neutral place, a silent carpet free of all words.  It is when you bring a thinking believing human upon the space that it then has meaning.

 

Imagine a room without a person in it.  Does it have a certain meaning?  Imagine a dress that is just silently draped over the back of a chair, neither are fighting, both just in harmony, but there is no mind with words discussing who is better who needs to leave, why are you that color, do you have to hang on me?

 

As we travel along on the tapestry called life, what are we bringing to it, what is our inner energies, our inner thoughts and beliefs about it, about all the rest of the folks traveling along, and what is going on inside of them, their heads, their thoughts and even what is coming out of them. 

 

It is like a magic carpet ride, we don’t know where it is we are going, how long we will stay on it and who we will travel with and what it is we will share.

 

As we travel along on this magical carpet ride, it seems we just have to do what it is we love doing, to listen to the whispers of our souls and head in that direction, to sometimes even go along with things that seem a little off the mark, and sure enough, that detour led us to the exact thing we needed. 

 

What I am trying not to do is drag my feet in hopes of stopping the carpet, instead I am holding on tight, with my face facing forward, wind in my hair, eagerly awaiting to see just which way it is we are going?  “Are we there yet?”

 

Are we where?  Where is it that we are going?  Is the destination our focus or is it the ride?  Who is asking?

Who needs to know? 

 

What will happen today, who will come and sit by me on this magical carpet ride, what will I say, what is my greeting, what will they say, and who is going to bring something to me? 

 

In this magical land, all things are possible you just have to believe!  Believe that everything is a miracle or nothing is, as Einstein said.

 

I believe in miracles.

 

 

Until Forever.

My sister’s Birthday is today, I think it is her 40^th.  I have not seen this sister in about 8 years or so, and I have not spoken to her in close to five years.

 

It is a weird and I am not sure most would understand my view, my stance, but there is a huge hole in our relationship.

 

The hole can be defined as denial, or it could be defined as rebelling. I rebelled against the family where she stood to keep the family at all costs, by deny another side of her father.

 

There are two sides and I can’t see a middle ground, although often it is said that we can agree to disagree and then move forward.  To me those rules don’t seem to apply here or perhaps what holds us back is the middle ground.

 

Middle ground, where is it?  How can you find a place for two sisters to be sisters in this? 

 

It was from her home he was arrested and to her home he returned after the trial.  She sees a dad.  I see a man who tried to be a dad, but failed so horribly.  Failed at just being a dad.  Just a dad!

 

When she stood by the man she loved, she stood away from the little girl who was molested. 

 

Is there a middle ground, perhaps if you did nothing, stood by no one, ceased to move.  Is that possible, for it seems immediately two sides were open, there didn’t seem to be a third choice?

 

Was the third choice to move on learning from the past, seeing yourself as victim, but not staying there.

 

Is that the middle ground?  If so, she is not here yet.

 

I know where she stands, how she stands and why?  I know.  I understand her walk, her talk, and her actions all are supporting a life that is not in full reality. 

 

Being in partial reality is to be seeing only what you want to see and disregard the rest.  What if the rest is the hurtful part? 

 

To bring in the whole reality is to lose the father of your past, you lose more than you gain, or so it seems.

 

Do I really wish for all to see what I seen, to walk where I walked, to have to lose so much in order to gain your self?

 

It is the road that is less traveled for sure, a road that leads away from hurt and into healing. 

 

On this day, your Birthday, I do wish you to see what I see, to be where I am, even if it hurts like hell to get here.  I want for you what I want for myself, self-love.

 

If I could I would give to you the innocence of your birth, the playfulness of youth, the freedom of being just a little girl, in a place of pureness.  I would give back to you what you lost in our childhood home.

 

But that is not mine to give, it is what you already have, you just have lost your way.  Lost in the sea of dysfunction, tossed around in confusion, alone against the world of madness, unable to even remember yourself being the precious little girl!  I can see a little girl lost. 

 

My brother has a line in his blog….”I will wait for you until forever.”  Sister, I will wait for you until forever.

 

 

 

Be That.

 

Who decides it is time to change?  Do we?  Is there a master plan and we change according to plan?  Is it something we have to learn, to practice, or does life happen and changes are required?  Required because the landscape we live on has changed.

 

And does the landscape change according to a plan, like the seasons of nature, or are we victims to a mad puppeteer!

 

When you are in the middle of hellhole, a mad puppeteer seems to be the answer.  However, once you have experienced the inner changes that have happened due to the long walk through this living hell, you understand that it was all for your benefit.  It leaves you then sitting in a state of pure gratitude.

 

Many wise people have used the analogy of caterpillar and the butterfly.  And in my experience that is correct.  I do feel like I went from being one thing to becoming something totally different, from walking to flying!

 

And I have to believe that I am part of a bigger plan, that the wise Universe is orchestrating all of this, for opportunities were staged for my greatest growth. 

 

In the middle of change I was not singing happily or even willingly going along, I went along kicking and screaming inside!  I had daily battles with my mind trying in vain to maintain the old me while being shown daily it wouldn’t be possible.

 

Like trying to keep a thousand legs of the caterpillar when only two were needed being a butterfly!

 

We don’t know that we are going to become a butterfly, all we feel is the death of the caterpillar.  We are in the midst of great angst, the life is seeping out, and we are dying. 

 

Changing from a caterpillar to a butterfly is an inside job.  It seems to require our very DNA to change, all our past behaviors are null and void now, and the past becomes the soup inside the cocoon that the butterfly grows from.

 

The caterpillar is gone and we then have to learn to live with less legs and wings.  Wings that we have no idea of how to use.  And the view of a butterfly sure is much different than that of a caterpillar, it leaves us dizzy with new possibilities.

 

If you sit and ponder the caterpillar becoming a butterfly, it truly is amazing. And if the wise Universe can do that, imagine what it can do for you? 

 

I know that it is not up to me to change others, that I am not the magician who can whip the soup to allow a butterfly its wings! 

 

I have seen the magic of the Universe at work, I have experienced miracles and seen that I was given the right and perfect tools I needed to get me through each stage.

 

In my world, it was as if this change was pre-ordained and I just went along for the ride.  I am still unsure as to why, why me, why was this my lucky lifetime, why did I make butterfly soup?

 

It seems too, that I have been conscious inside the whole while, that I was able to see the old me dying and struggling, while a new me was being born, and I held on desperately to the old one.

 

"I must be willing to give up what I am in order to become what I will be."

                                              ~ Einstein

 

Maybe all we have to give up is our ideas that we will not change.  How about living in a place where nothing remains the same. 

 

Isn’t it like expecting a river to not move?  Isn’t it like expecting each sunrise to be the same?

 

Give me one thing that doesn’t change?  Just one.

What remains the same always?  

 

 

What is unchanging forever? 

Be that!

Tending reality.

There seems to be just two ways to live your life, either pretending or tending.  Tending to the truth of what is, or pretending it doesn’t exits!  Tending or pretending sounds simple, except when the truth is hurtful to you or to those you love. 

 

Tending the truth, means having to say no when you want to say yes, it means facing realities and not pretending that they don’t exist.

 

Pretending is pretty much what we teach our children every time we tell them a little white lie, every time we hide the truth to spare their feelings, each and every time the truth is not faced and acted upon we pretend.

 

Tending to our lives, to see what is really there, to not shy away from feelings, to honor what is, each and every time Is shows up.

 

It seems odd that we have to work like hell to get back to reality.  It seems odd that we are so far from the mark.  Yet we are.

 

Little by little our lives were stolen away by lies. Piece by piece they slipped away, until all that remained was a false sense of self.  A façade a poor rendition of ourselves, a imposter, someone whose life we were living, a life but one that wasn’t ours.

 

How is it possible to lose sight of our own lives, our own dreams our own worlds?  How is it possible our actions are more for the other than ourselves?  How can we now become selfish of our time, and become self- loving?

 

How can we teach ourselves to no longer pretend, how do we find the self behind the pretending?

 

It seems that lies are the answer.  Stop lying.  Stop lying, even the little white lies.  Stop lying when you say yes and you mean no.  Stop hiding behind lies when you don’t want to feel, to be hurt, to be sad, to be this or that!  Be sad if sad you feel, be happy if it is happy you feel.  Stop lying to spare the others feelings.  Wouldn’t it be better to feel the truth of what is now?

 

It is insanity at its best to think we can pretend anyway. Pretend what?  That the thing we are pretending isn’t there will go away if we pretend!

 

How is that ever going to work, yet we do that time and time again.  We pretend if we say yes this one last time They will not ask again.  We pretend if we don’t see that action that eventually the he will change.  We pretend to pretend to pretend that life will work itself out, if we can only hold on pretending until it does.

 

We can’t even stop lying to ourselves that our pretending is getting us nowhere!

 

Pretend or tend….to be or not to be, that is the question.

What will you pretend today?  What will you tend today?

 

I tend reality.

 

Peace Party!

While quilting this morning I had on Sirius Radio and the two talk shows I was listening to had the topic of lies.  How woman lie more, are taught to lie politely, use lies to survive and how our personal lies are so hurtful and leave us in situations that are not good for us.

 

It seems we lie to make things better either for someone or for ourselves.  We lie to protect their feelings while sacrificing our own.

 

Lies and pretending isn’t that the same.  We pretend to not be hurt so that another feels better.  And we may even pretend that another’s actions are not hurtful to protect ourselves the hurt.

 

Now that seems weird, can we really tell the lie to ourselves and then believe it!  Wouldn’t we know we were pretending? 

 

I would like to bring lies and pretend to wars working.  It is Memorial Day and I now have grave issues with wars being the way to peace.  That it is a necessary evil to eradicate evil.  Fighting evil with evil will win us a place called peace.  How can that ever work?

 

Peace is not the gift of war.  Peace does not fall when the war is won.

Peace is not even found in one returning from war.  Peace and freedom is the cost of all wars.  We loose what we are fighting for! Who is really at peace in war, and who really gains peace through fighting?  Either you are the one doing the beating or the one getting beat, now that doesn’t sound peaceful at all on either side!

 

Freedom is the reason we fight, but do we gain freedom if we have to fight to keep it?  We are fighting to have freedom?  So the freedom is gone and we are made to continue fighting lest we lose it.

 

It just seems madness to me. Madness and insanity all around!  And then I see the honorable services, the ceremonies honoring those who fought.  Fighters being honored, the peace keepers fighting to the death for us?

 

I can’t even pretend to pretend to understand or agree with any of this any more.  Mothers on this side and Mothers on that side are losing their children, Fathers on this side and Fathers on that side losing their kids, and the kids on both sides dying for our peace, our freedom and our beliefs.  Our children are made to fight for us!

 

How can we honor that? 

 

Is it possible that we are all tired of the pain, the deaths and fighting going on? Is it possible there is a better way?  Is it possible to stop the wars?  Who will?

 

We all need to stop pretending that war is the answer for peace.  That one life is worth the price?  That we can afford to hurt others and not feel their pain? 

 

I am not sure how this can get turned around, but it seems that with all the technology of today, the wisdom we have, that we should be working to find peaceful solutions.

 

I just can’t lie to myself anymore that wars work.  I am so thankful that my children have not yet had to be asked to fight.

 

Imagine asked to fight.

 

We are so not a peaceful nation. 

 

Peace, “be the change you want to see in the world” is what Ghandi said.

 

Here it is Memorial Day and I want to focus instead on ways we can live peacefully.  I want to find peaceful answers, ones that don’t require another to lose either their minds or their bodies. 

 

I have a hard time to even muster up support for their actions now and of the past.  It seems that I would be supporting fighting, killing and maiming!

 

Perhaps the truth needs to be faced, to see what it is we are really doing and who we are really hurting, and then shake out the bottom and see if Peace and Freedom lay there.  Who is brave enough to look?  Who has the courage to see what it is we are doing and to whom?

 

God and Religion are the main reasons that wars are fought.  Imagine if we instead looked for ways we can honor and serve God.

 

Perhaps the belief that there is only one right way to God is what has us all killing each other and hating so many.

 

What if instead we looked at all the different paths to God, to honor all the different ways we can reach God, see God and Be with God! 

 

If we could agree that there is not just one right way, then perhaps we would not have so many wrong. 

 

Whenever you are made to pick sides, to choose teams, to have a winner and a loser you, are separating.  We are separating and making one more special than the other, instead of seeking to join and becoming one.

 

If we saw ourselves as the human family on this planet called earth, a family that was eager to get along, to serve and honor each other, seeking to understand different cultures and rituals, perhaps we could have less wars and more peace parties. 

 

Peace parties, that I can attend…I would love to be part of a Peace Party!

 

 

This Dance.

There seems to be this fallacy of completion, of finishing, of getting to a spot when all is done, when I am perfect, when I am now me, when change is over.

 

Some how we have it that when we get to that spot we will control life and we will have smooth sailing.

 

How about instead if we get to the spot that we instead see that life happens, and we just happen along for the ride.

 

The thing that seems to stand in the way of accepting is our thoughts.  Our thoughts and beliefs that things should be different, that we should even respond differently, that we should have control over more things.

 

Will we ever get to a spot in life where no thoughts will pop up, where no outside event will happen that we don’t want, that life will always be this perfect dance for us.

 

To be accepting of all things, the good the bad and the ugly, to accept them as part of your world, for do you really have a choice?  Is there a way we can hit a button and all those things we don’t like disappear? 

 

It seems we have been told or taught to believe that we have more control than what we do. 

 

Abuse is actions that are out of control and it leaves us feeling out of control inside, especially if at the time an adult isn’t available to help us express our fears, our terror, our helplessness.  The term adult child is that we are left emotionally at the age of our abuse no matter how big our body grows.

 

We then go forward with an inside that is out of control and we respond to the outside way out of control.  Our reactions are swift and volatile, at a much higher volume than needed.  A hair trigger on our tempers, with a bucket load of emotions behind, we respond with pent up unexpressed emotions. 

 

To gain control of our emotions, to express ourselves is the task an abused person has to deal with one situation at a time.  Little by little we regain control of ourselves in reality. We are able to see what happened, to express our emotions, to leak a little out here and there, to unleash their hold on us.  We learn how to respond, not react.

 

Maybe this is what life is.  That life happens and we then get to see how we respond?  See what we do with each new moment, situation or person in our presence?  What happens inside of us, what decides what we do?  Is that the real spot we are seeking to stand on, the perfection we are striving towards to always stand on the same spot?

 

To always see the truth of what is, to really see the person who is standing in front of us, to hear their words, their actions.  To see life as life presents itself and then learn to act accordingly, to be ok with going this way and that way, to be directed by life, instead of us trying to direct life. 

 

There seems to be the dance of the Universe and it is up to us to hear the music and dance along.  Perhaps the spot we are looking for is within us.  To accept the music we are hearing, always.

 

Dance with the Universe in grace not trying to lead, but to be the one to follow.

Held in the arms of the Universe.

In grace accept this dance.

 

Practice.

Outlier – noun

1: something that is situated away from or classed differently from a main or related body.

2: a statistical observation that is markedly different in value from the others of the sample.

 

This is in the beginning of a book I am now reading “Outliers” by Malcolm Gladwell, the story of Success.

 

What an interesting book on how there are so many factors that dictate the success of an individual.  From where you are born, to whom you have for parents, from the availability to practice your talent, IQ, and to even the global transformation such as the Technology Era.

 

Preparedness meets opportunity repeatedly in the lives of our most successful individuals.  It seems the whole world was lined up perfectly for them.

 

They all had 10,000 hours of practice, whether you are playing music like the Beatles or playing on computers like Bill Gates.  It wasn’t work they were doing, but what they loved to do for 10,000 hours before actually making it big.

 

High Intelligence seemed to also need Practical Intelligence as well as parents that were supportive, and then living in the right place doing the right thing in the right era. 

 

I identified with the term Outliers.  Outliers from Normal, it seems we too had to have many things line up perfectly. The right set of parents, in the right community, believing in the right religion, right neighborhood etc. the perfect set up for dysfunction.

 

Amazing when I look at it from that point of view.  How so many had to act a certain way for dysfunction to continue!

 

And the term Outlier also fits for being the one to step out of the dysfunction.  Did I have 10,000 hours of practice in?  Was I blessed with practical intelligence and more IQ?  Was I now living in a supportive home?  To reading authors that challenged the way I lived, believed and thought? 

 

As I look backwards, I had been preparing myself totally, and that the Universe seemed to be one with me, all I needed the most I received.

I had the perfect darkness and then had the exact things I needed to transcend that, and now I feel like I am getting all I need at the right time to support me today. 

 

I can see myself more as an Outlier in many places even today as well as in my past.

 

Being the oldest daughter I was given the task to be the second mother.  In so doing, I was not a child among the children and I was not the real mother and I never felt like a daughter to her, but just second in command.  I was in a position of being an outlier to each group, a group of one.

 

My whole past has been practicing to walk away alone, an outlier.

 

Now I sit in a place of gratitude that I had so much practice.

I just had no idea what I was practicing for!

 

And even today my story isn’t over, but I am confident that being an outlier I will be different, set aside from the norm, but I am way ok with that.  Where will I go and what will I do, who knows, but I can tell you this, I must be practicing for it now! 

 

Practice.

Sitting on the bench.

What is the responsibility of Giving?  Is there a responsibility in Giving?  It seems that the giver almost carries more than the receiver.

Can an exhausted giver really blame the ones she is giving to? 

 

In the case of being a mom, we tend to give and give and help and help, but what is that really doing?  Is that making our children takers?  If we don’t expect them to give how can they learn to be givers?

 

It seems the responsibility lies within the Giver to stop giving.  Stop.

 

It was easier to give them an easier day, to take away their jobs, to ease the burden in their world, by doing things they could do, should do, would do, If I gave them the chance.

 

Hey, I can give still, just give them the chance to be responsible, be self-sufficient!  I can give them self-empowerment.

 

If I can give that back to them, I must have been a taker not a giver.

I was taking away self-empowerment!

 

I think by just looking at this differently, by seeing what I am taking away instead of what I am giving, is crucial.

 

So each time I give I will have to first ask a few questions, such as, can they do this themselves, do they really need my help, am I making them helpless or allowing them to be responsible for Self.

 

What is so odd is that I then resent them for my giving too much, resent them for not doing enough for themselves as I walk behind them picking up their stuff.   A maid.  A resentful unpaid maid!

 

And as I took their lives, I resented that no time was left for me, and my life!  Of course not, I was too busy messing up their lives, their self-esteem, by doing their jobs for them!  Unreal!

 

As a mother my part is to give them their lives back, to stop doing their jobs!  To stand in my spot, do what is expected of me.  I just bet that I will have more time to do fun things for me.  I just bet that the balance in this house will even out.  Harmony will return, balance will once again be here.  It is not reasonable to expect them to be in their lives if we don’t let them.  We have to allow them to live in all parts of their worlds, not just the good parts.  Nope, we have to give them the opportunities to live in all parts, the struggles, the hardships, the highs and the lows. 

 

I failed to see how my giving was taking and that their taking was because they had no choice.  Well, I guess they could have said, “please don’t let me sleep so long, please stop doing all my clothes, please stop cooking all my meals, please stop cleaning up my messes, please stop!”   Little did I know as I was hollering at them to change, I was really hollering at myself.

 

I knew I was doing something wrong, I just couldn’t figure out how my doing so much was a bad thing for them, for it seemed they were the ones benefiting the most!  Yet in the end we both were losing.

 

They had the most to lose, their self-esteem and power.  The satisfaction of being a member, a contributing member in this house, of this family!  If we were a team, I would have been the ball hog the one who is forever playing and the rest are sitting the bench!

 

What can our kids learn by sitting on the bench?  Oh my God, I was a ball hog, and I have always hated the coaches who let the players sit the bench.  I was a coach who never even let them play so busy was I playing their game!

 

I wanted them to play the game, but I was holding the ball tightly in my hands, hollering at them to play, after the game was already over.

Pretty hard to cleanup a cleaned up mess!

 

Perhaps I need a coach whistle to keep me reminded of my role.

I am a coach.  I get to shout encouragement from the sidelines!

I no longer have to play all positions it sure was wearing me out!

 

I love that I am a coach.  I get to sit the bench!

No rewind button.

In 2002 I began making memory quilts due to the death of my young nephew.  I took his clothes and created quilts for his siblings and mother.   Soon after another mother who lost her 2 year old gave me his clothes to make one about her son. This little boy I knew not at all.

 

As I cut up the little clothes, the small jeans, the t-shirts and as I read the words that I had each write, I felt connected to the little boys.  It was like they came to help me, to guide me to comfort the ones they left behind.  It was an intriguing and very moving experience that perhaps opened me up to what some call the Creative Genius.

 

It was my intention at the time of each quilt to capture the boy’s essence, to hold a bit of them here on earth. 

 

The finished quilt seemed to hold magic powers besides having something to hold on to.

 

Around the same time, I was asked to create coffin drapes.  Hard to describe here, but if you can think back to an open coffin, they are really only half open.  The closed part then has a drape that conceals the leg or lower half of you as you lay in there. 

 

I made quite a few and had them in two different funeral homes.  They displayed them on coffins in the Casket Display Room.  When I seen the room with colorful quilts adorning those boxes, it seemed I was on the right path.

 

However, after a few months, one funeral home had me come and collect them, saying they were for the Ego not for Spirit.  I was puzzled to say the least, but left with them in my arms.

 

The second funeral home did sell one.  One I had made with fabric of birds.  A woman who passed loved birds and her family thought it a perfect way to personalize her coffin. 

 

As I worked on these both in the creation and then with the funeral homes, I was learning more about how we say good -bye and how we celebrate or mourn the loss.

 

The Coffin Drapes then led me to make teeny tiny quilts that would fit into small coffins that a baby would be buried in.  It was then that I was asked to go to a Baby Grief Group and present this idea.

 

This group of grieving parents was working on projects to help the next set of parents who suffered the loss of child, have access to things that can help at this sad time.  A basket that holds many things you would never even think about, but need to. 

 

I began to see how we seldom think of the process of death until we are right in the middle of it and then make decisions in a high emotional state, and most often are a bobble-head just nodding as the funeral director gives us options.

 

As I look back on that time in my life, I now see it as the first lessons in Body and Spirit, to see and work with those who deal with bodies and with the grieving who are holding on to Spirit.

 

Imagine now the many ways we deal with death?  The many different religions and traditions that are used to dispose of the body, how there are rules even in this, and not to mention the expense, the guilt and the shame if you don’t put your loved one in a perfect box.

 

Today as I sit here all that seems so foreign to me, that we are so concerned of a body after the Spirit has left it.  It seems to me an empty container.  My first close encounter with the funeral business left me feeling cold.

 

At first I saw it as a wonderful service to help those who lost their loved ones, to help them through this transition.  A deeper look had me reeling.

 

It almost seems that we as a society have been hoodwinked. 

 

There are businesses that make a living on empty bodies. 

 

If we separate ourselves and can see that the body is the vehicle we use while alive, it does beg to ask why we spend so much time and effort yet again on the container?

 

The body while alive is a truly amazing thing, it is a finely tuned instrument that we use to experience life on earth, to gain awareness and consciousness and it houses the soul.  But once the breath leaves, once the soul exits, then what?   It seems in nature it is cycled back into the system effortlessly, yet we struggle to maintain it, and preserve it.  Why?

 

Why do we try to hold on, to keep it unchanging, to not allow it to cycle back, to return to the ash of its beginning.

 

Is this even possible to stop the decay the natural process?

 

Who is resisting?

Who fears the ending?

Who wants to preserve a dead body?

Who suffers the most when it dies?

 

Death is a great teacher of living.

 

Live like you were dying, isn’t it impossible not to? 

 

If we look at life as fleeting, as precious with the ending unknown, perhaps we would live differently.  Some how we feel that we have time at our disposal always, another day, another year, another hour, but do we?

 

Would it not be better to speak of death, to anticipate it, to face it fearlessly.  And perhaps when we find peace in dying we can really live.

 

Nickleback sings a song “If today was your last day” and a few words caught my attention.  No rewind button.