The art of living with intention

One of the things I have decided to bring into my life is more creativity. I am going to take a pastel class in February and a mosaic class in March. This intention has led to another interesting connection. My friend Mary introduced me to a woman named Lorrie who is finishing her final project at Regis. Lorrie is an artist and part of her project is to do art projects with women in transition. She just started this project and she goes to a local women's homeless shelter every Sunday. I told her I would love to help and she invited to me to come today. We brought materials for collage, but some of the women brought their own projects to work on. I started a collage myself-I still need to finish it. This one is inspired by the notion of moving forward...what does the future hold? As I worked on my collage, we chatted with the women and learned about who they are and why they are in this situation. The life stories I heard mad me realize that homeless people were once like you and me. One woman is married to a man who used to work in construction but became disabled. He can no longer work, and they have lost everything because of this. It reminded me of how Mike had to apply for Social Security...and what if I had to quit my job? What if his illness lasted a lot longer, and we had to deal with no insurance? Another woman has bipolar and just can't figure out how to hold down a job. One woman was an artist herself. The art that was being creative was so unique to each woman, and both Lorrie and I saw how this is a small luxury for women who everyday have to struggle. I plan to go with her every Sunday and I look forward to seeing where Lorrie takes this project and how I can help!

Smellin' like roses...

Let's just say I am getting my poop in a group. Although it smells like the stock show in my backyard, my sewer pipe was in desperate need of replacement. It literally just fell apart when they started digging it up. So, check this project off the "must do" list.

I did have to swallow a very large and prickly pill. In order to replace the pipe, they had to dig up a large part of the patio. The patio was built with the patience, sweat, and occasional curse words of my beloved. There was no getting around it. I asked and I asked and I asked, many times over, "are you sure there is no way to do this without digging it up?" The guy from the pipe company really tried to consider ways to do it but ultimately he said that there was no other way. And, this MUST be done...it isn't something I am choosing to do for sure! This poor guy-Keith-listened to me as I told him about how we built the patio and arbor. How Mike was such a talented guy that way. I begged that he promise me that the workers won't mess up the arbor. He promised he would be stopping by to check in and make sure things go okay. I then started bouncing ideas off him...instead of brick, what did he think of me laying flagstone (he enjoys landscaping)? On and on this exchange went until I felt okay that I could watch this happen. And I have been watching. These workers are awesome-super nice, considerate, and very careful they don't mess anything up. I offered to buy them pizza and they politely declined. Just overall good workers and I am very pleased.

I guess this is just one more of those situations that make me consider alternatives. Instead of re-laying the patio perfectly as Mike did before, I am now considering other design alternatives. I may even extend the garden and do a few other changes to the yard. So, this is just one of those situations I face that requires me to think outside the M&M box. One more step in the grief process.

A 5K, friendship, and a leaky pipe

At first glance, my weekend looks as though it was pretty good. I ordered my dining room table and chairs. I rearranged my furniture. I spent hours with two good friends...kindred spirits...kind souls. I watched as Chester and Stan romped and played with their best friends, Izzie and Sophie, while I got to chat with one of my closest friends. I ran a 5K race with a new found friend. I napped. I dance Zumba and made food for the week.

Upon second glance, one might notice a slight tension. I can't seem to be motivated to clean the house. My dishwasher and garbage disposal don't work, and I haven't called an appliance repair person yet. When I do laundry I find water in the basement (pay close attention to where this might lead...). I would rather lay in the flannel coziness of my bed than do anything maintanence oriented in my home. And then it s back to work.

To make matters worse, I discovered after I took my bath tonight that the water in the basement is not from the washing machine after all. I went downstairs to feed the dogs after my bath and realized that my septic line...my main pipeline...has sprung a leak. All that magnolia scented bathwater was spurting out of my main pipeline. Suddenly, not only did I feel overwhelmed by the day to day tasks of home and dog ownership; I was thinking about how I was going to deal with this and how can I take of work and how much money is this going to cost to fix and can I flush the toilet and friends are coming over this weekend so how do I entertain and what do I do with the dogs...You get the picture.

So...I cry. And then breathe. And finally...write.

One step forward-I pay a visit to the hospital that contained the most intimate moments of my life. I feel good, energized, and ready to keep working through this grief thing. Then, one step back-How do I deal with this alone? Should I call a spade a spade and move away from this old house? Where is Mike when I need him? Oh, yeah, that is where...it is like grief just comes circling around again but in a different form. Mike would know what to do. Mike could take time off to help with this. Mike knew the plumbers to call who understand ancient homes. Mike could find the the duct-tape.

So...I dry my tears. I write. I breathe. And I decide I have no other choice but to face it.

My earlier grief would have me trying to find some sort of symbol...Maybe Mike did this so he can see whether I really do have what it takes to be alone. My current grief does not agree. It was only a matter of time. If he were alive, water would be coming out of that pipe. It is at least freeing to know that I am not caught up in what this may mean...but rather how to deal with it.

So...I laugh a bit because this is just the way things are. I write about the situation. I breathe. And I call the plumber in the morning.

It doesn't matter anymore...

I went to a meeting of a bookclub that I might join. I think I like these women a ton...they are all very much intellectual about their book discussion. I will give it one more meeting to see if I will stick to it. Yes...I am still a part of the bookclub that has stolen my heart...this one was just an added bonus.

The meeting was held close to 18th so I took 18th West...past the hospital that took Mike time and time again and really took him in the end. I decided it was time for me...to go there. I haven't even driven past Washington on 17th since August. Somehow though Presbyterian St. Lukes was calling my name tonight. I parked where I used to park. I took the elevator to the lobby. I looked around, remembering all the ER and hospital visits. And then...I went there. To the 4th floor, Oncology. At first I just sat in the elevator as it opened and closed. I then went back and got out. I saw one nurse on the phone. I saw Mike's nurse at the end of the hall talking with a patient. I realized..."They don't need me and Mike." Which led to the realization that I don't want this to be my reality. And even though I call Mike time and time again to comfort me...I realized he doesn't want this to be his reality.

I managed to escape onto the elevator with no one noticing me. I made it back to the car. I felt triumphant. I left Mike's nurse a message that I really didn't need to know what they talked about that night. That it doesn't really matter anymore. That they have patients to deal with, not the memory of a patient. As I am writing now...she left me a message to call her so we could talk. I left it as a new message so I will not forget. I don't have the anger, fear or frustration that I did when I called her and told her I won't speak to her unless she told me what they discussed that last night. In the end, whatever they discussed gave Mike comfort. I hope that it gave him the will to live until I came to see him. Someone who cared for him a lot was there with him and that to me is all that matters.

All of this is on my mind because I am actively working with grief. But I also saw The Lovely Bones and this movie gave me a sense of where Mike might be right now...and maybe how I might be a part of that. If I let him go he may evolve into utter bliss...heaven. If I keep wishing him to be here he might be stuck in the in between. I want Mike to have bliss. I want me to have bliss. And then, in the end, as Flannery O' Connor might say "Everything that rises must converge."

One more day...

...to sleep in and not really be anywhere too early. To finally clean my house after putting it off all weekend. To anticipate a four day, not five day work week. To spend some quality time with the dogs. To frivolously drink coffee at a cafe and see a movie. To maybe get a paper or two graded. To nap.

Yes...I am looking forward to the third day of a three day weekend. Thus far, the weekend has been so enjoyable. Yesterday I took a walk with mom, sat outside in the sun, and dined like a queen. Today, I had coffee and stimulating conversation, went on a run, took a long nap and danced my way through Sunday evening. Tomorrow is coffee with Meg and a movie with Ann-The Lovely Bones. I really, truly do think that America would get it right if the country embraced four day work weeks. I know I would vote for it!

Reversal of Ch'i

When I got to work I just knew I had to reverse the Ch'i that was happening in my life this morning. I woke up later than I wanted to, I lost my car key (but found it), and came in to a barrage of issues with my film students and their financial aid. So, I took the last bag of Tension Tamer tea, I created a little sacred space on my window sill with a picture of Mike and some rocks we collected in Alaska, and a co-worker told me a corney joke:
"Two pretzels were walking down the street. One was assaulted" (a-salted...get it?).
Thus, my chi was reversed. I stepped outside and felt the sun, the day was slower then anticipated, I helped a friend with a fundraiser, and overall the day turned out pretty good. I guess I just need to be purposeful when having a bad day to turn it around...live with intention.

Creating Sacred Spaces and Other Stuff to do in Spare Time

I have suddenly felt like time and I are in phases of negotiation. "I promise to fit in a walk with the dogs if you let me go to book club" or "I promise I will clean the house this weekend if during the week you let me have some freedom." I am constantly wrestling with filling my time-making priorities, who to see, what to do, and how to include some "me" time in the equation. A few weeks ago I got the monthly newsletter from Denver Hospice and two things caught my attention. The first was the "Young Widows/Widowers Support Group". I decided to join. Meetings are Wednesdays for 4 weeks. Last Wednesday was the first meeting, but due to weather only three of us showed up and so I think we are starting from scratch this week.

Tonight, Denver Hospice held a grief education program about how to create a sacred space for a loved one that died. I decided to go, since I am grappling with making changes in my house and what parts of Mike I may lose in the process. This was such a great session. I learned that sacred space can be anything, and the facilitators talked about inward and outward sacred spaces. They showed pictures of different kinds of ideas and they had physical examples. Two things stood out: One was a box where I can put notes of what I would want to tell Mike..."such and such happened today" or "I thought of you while I saw..." I can personalize the box and put a slit in the top, where I can slide in such notes. The other was a fabric piece. I can take pieces from his t-shirts, ties, and other things of his and "quilt" them together into a fabric piece. I loved these ideas. I think where I might start is making a sacred space on the shelves in the office. They are pretty much as Mike left them, so I think I might put things that were special to him in that space. Then, if I want to move something in the rest of the house to make room for other things, I know I have a space to put stuff for MIke. It was a very cool session and am in love with the hospice movement...those involved really know how to care for the grieving.

I also got a really cool idea from a Regis student finishing her senior project. I won't go into detail about her project, but she herself was in transition years ago from divorce, raising two kids and losing a great job. She started a "me" project notebook...which took years to develop and cultivate but now she is following her passion. So...I started my own "transition" notebook. I have 8 sections, which include grief/healing, relationships, career opportunities, etc. This is just a place to put all my thoughts, feelings, educational material, etc. that marks this transition in my life. I am excited to develop this concept more, and get involved with this person and her volunteer work.

I am feeling very hopeful. I am feeling like I am making strides forward that will help me see what opportunities lie ahead of me. I am feeling that, someday, I don't know when, this goal will be acheived:
"The work of mourning has been completed when the person no longer appears as an absence in a barren world but has come to reside securely within one's heart," (Cantor, 1978).

Quiet

I have been a bit quiet via the blog. I am not sure what to write about. So...I will do something stream of conscious.......................
I hate the cold. Really, truly, I wish it were spring. It makes me wish I live in San Diego, only to confront out of control mortgages and smog. But I hate the December to April stretch. Work has been busy and some days I wonder the point of it all....why am I registering people for classes when it is so apparent how to do it online? Seems as though I have had a negative attitude, but the weather brings it out in me. Hmmm...what is good? I got a good night's sleep. I am on day 4 of my 29 day gift giving campaign and it is going well. I have heard from people who I haven't heard from in 15 years which is lovely. Book club last night was good, with Amy's stellar food, home, and overall hostess talents. I am meeting people who know what it is like to lose a spouse. I am graduating students so they can get on with their lives. I am a listener to friends who really need it. I am exploring other opportunities. I am in the market for a new dining room table. I rub Chester's back and ears every morning, and kiss Stan's nose when he pokes it on my side of the bed. I drive a 4 wheel drive in the snow which makes me safe. I drink as much Starbucks' Chai Tea as I can. I am starting to actually, truly love me. I am starting to actually, truly accept what is ahead of me. I may actually be able to say I am embarking on being happy. Oh, and I can say I got highlights today by the best stylist in the world.

Life is/will be good.

The Cove

I typically don't get too political in my blog but I have just finished the documentary The Cove and am horrified by the dolphin industry in Taiji, Japan. Dolphins are captured for places like Seaworld and aquariums, and the ones who are not chosen get taken to this hidden cove and murdered for dolphin meat-which then is being sold in Japan and elsewhere and is tainted with mercury. It was an eye opening documentary. I remember Mike and I visited Seaworld (I now regret I went) and I was in awe at these creatures. Watching this documentary you can see how intelligent, sensitive and amazing these creatures are, as well as how slimy and secretive the fishermen and the local and national Japanese governments are about this practice. Check out the link to the movie and consider stopping the support of places like Seaworld and the exploitation of these amazing creatures.
http://www.thecovemovie.com/

A Mary New Year

I had the pleasure of spending the day at my friend Mary's house in Conifer. She has two kids and a darling husband. They live on four acres and have a barn, chickens, bunnies, and a big St. Bernard puppy named Grace. Their home is simple but beautifully furnished, with personal touches all over the house. I got there about 10:30 this morning, met the chickens and bunnies, played with legos, and ate a scrumptious salmon and quinoa lunch. After lunch the kids got into the hot-tub and her daughter played like she was in the polar bear club, jumping out of the hot tub to run through the snow and then back into the hot-tub. What a ham. Her son has been a big supporter of mine and would send me his artwork and other ways to let me know he loves me. It was a wonderful day and to top it all off, the weather was beautiful. Mary has become a friend these past few years and has been one of those instrumental friends who have helped carry me through my grief. It was a nice way to spend one of the early days of 2010.