your dreams are always coming true.

It's that time of the month. Soul Matters time, that is. I have my meeting with my group tomorrow, and, of course, I've left most of my reflection and work for the last minute. I meant to look at it this weekend, but I ended up blogging about other things. So, back to Possibility. Let's see what I can work out.

First of all, the spiritual practice that they wanted us to do was, in my opinion, dumb. We were supposed to read a poem by Robert Bly every day. And it was a dumb poem, saying that instead of expecting the ordinary, we should imagine that a moose will come out of a pond carrying your unborn child in his antlers.

???

My point exactly. So we were supposed to read it every day for two weeks and see what sorts of things we would start to think were possible. It's meant to get us out of our routines. Personally, I don't think this would help my spirit, so I didn't do it.

However, if I were to explore this concept without the dumb poem, I think I would start to understand that a lot of the things I'm most proud of doing seemed like really crazy ideas at the beginning. Some of the wildest things I've done have been the most worthwhile. And while I'm looking for a job and trying to shape what my life in Rochester with Adam will look like, it's important to think big, not small. There, lesson learned.

The next part is the challenge. I need to brainstorm all the things I think are impossible. I've already listed these things, and I'll say now that I did NOT succeed in creating a home yoga routine, nor did I fast or do anything else, really. Not even close. I did yoga once. And I attempted to fast once. So, there are some improvements I can make. And I have decided that those things are big leaps, and I need small steps. That means meditating regularly, and mindful eating. The point is, I've figured out what my long term goals are, and now I know what small steps will lead me in that direction.

The other little trick I've learned is modifying my dreams. At this point, I think it's pretty unlikely that I'll go back to the woods to work as a trail laborer. And frankly, I haven't been convinced that I do actually want to. But...I am planning on going back this summer to visit, and hopefully see people from my crew. That would pretty much satisfy that dream of mine, but it fits into the reality of other choices I'm making in my life. I probably don't want to spend 6 months in the woods without Adam and without a phone to call him. So I'll go for a week or two, sleep under the stars, hike some trails, and that'll be that.

I don't mean to say that I should compromise my dreams for things that seem more reasonable. I just mean that I will never accomplish what I want if I will only accept one hypothetical result. Part of realizing your dreams is understanding that your dreams are coming true all the time. Even if they don't arrive in the exact package you expected. And that is the heart of possibility. The ability to see everything as an opportunity, every new experience a gift and every new acquaintance as the potential for something grand.

Living boldly means that we embrace all the little moments that will lead to someplace fabulous. Rejoicing in our small accomplishments acknowledges that every step brings us closer to our goals.

I used to feel like I was such a poser because I "pretended" that I practiced yoga regularly, when really I had only been practicing for a few months. I wanted so much at 17 to be a true yogini. But I knew that it would take time. Because I stuck with yoga and still practice, however sporadically, no one could tell me today that I do not understand the fundamentals of yoga and have a true foundation in the philosophy. And so there is no reason that I should have let that keep me from feeling like I was a yogini. My path led me here, and no one can disprove that those few classes I took as a junior in high school helped me along the way. Even at our beginnings, we are undeniably bound for success. That is the whole power of the future and the unknown. No one can really say "You'll never be a true yogini" or "You'll never become a doctor." Because they don't know the future. Maybe today is the first day of your 20 years as a massage therapist. Maybe all that journaling you've been doing for all these years will be a best-selling book in 3 years. Maybe yesterday was your first day as a lifelong bike commuter. The possibilities are truly endless.

This entire month I have been avoiding the theme Possibility because there is really only one thing that I want to be possible: getting this research job. I want to believe so much that it will happen, and I think I've done everything I can to make sure that this dream is realized. But since I don't know the future, I don't know if tomorrow will bring an end to this job search, and the beginning of another, or the beginning of 5 years with a health project in the Dominican Republic. I want to believe that it is possible. But if it doesn't work out, I have to imagine something equally acceptable to do with my life.

I firmly believe in listening to the messages that life sends you. For example, on a date with a guy that I liked, I got hit in the head with a sign. And that sign happened to say "Sign." That made it pretty clear. I also think that the job with St. Joseph's Villa did not work out because it wasn't right for me. When you have to work hard to make something feel good, it's probably not that good for you. I'm also hoping that it didn't work out because I was meant to have this job with the University of Rochester. And if not, I'm going to spend a lot of time working at a coffee shop and re-imagining my future.

I'll wrap this up with a little story from my friend, Brian Andreas. This has always been one of my favorites, and I think it fits pretty well with this evening's thoughts.

Everything changed the day she figured out
there was exactly enough time
for the important things in her life.

And, because I can't help myself, here's another:

In my dream, the angel shrugged & said,
If we fail this time, it will be a failure of imagination
& then she placed the world gently in the palm of my hand.

resolve.

Words color my world.

I don't think I ever could have imagined the poetry that would weave my world together and make it dance in my memory for a lifetime. From journaling as a pre-teen and teenager, to livejournaling as a young college student and then to blogging in The Real World, writing has been my way of making sense of the experiences and adventures that compose my life. No matter where I've been, be it the confused darkness of a family paralyzed by divorce, or the bonnie Highlands of Scotland, writing is compelling, necessary, and important. She is my good friend, and my most trusted therapist.

My love of language, then, is the natural progression of my friendship with the written word. To learn to express myself in more beautiful and exotic words was like discovering a secret garden. I could use these new words with new people, and they would take me to places like San Sebastian, Vieques, and Chefchaouen. I learned more about grammar than I ever had known, and so I became more confident in using my native language to express myself. I find I am always curious about what one word means, and I am fascinated by the posse of other words needed to define one. And so, another etymological lesson:

Resolve. Re-solve. Solve again.
to bring to an end; to settle conclusively; to reach a conclusion.
Resolution. To make a new solution.
finding a solution to a problem.

It's a new year, a new decade. Time for a fresh start. Time to go back to those old decisions and remake them. Resolve to do what is good for us, for our health, for our wellness and our future. We forget that behind every resolution is a decision we made that something was BAD for us. Losing weight really means that we don't want to overeat or to remain sedentary. Quitting smoking, obviously means we KNOW that cigarettes are bad for us. Buying too much, spending beyond our means and wasting beyond our allotment are good reasons to save money and to be thrifty. Part of making a resolution means looking back at all the ugly moments from the last year and finding a new way. How do we make change? How do we start over?

The truth is, New Years is a farce. It is a scheme to force everyone to operate on the same schedule of putting off our resolutions until one day in January. Months in advance, we talk about how we will make changes. "My new year's resolution will be to start running again." "I'm going to finish all those projects I never got around to." The problem is, we can start doing that NOW. We don't have to wait until the ball drops to begin the race toward our dreams. It's like Dick Clark is holding the toy gun, and we're all at the starting line waiting for his signal. As soon as he says go, we can all begin again. But not until he says so. Are we insane?? Dick Clark didn't even say "13" in his countdown! It's time to find a new starter for the race.

What happens if we fall of the wagon in February? Or worse, January 2nd. What then? Is it all over until next year? We're fooling ourselves if we think we only have one chance at this. Personally, January is a horrible time for me to make plans for my future. I'm cold, depressed from lack of sunshine, and generally walking like a zombie till March. I'm hibernating. So I don't need Carson Daly telling me that it's time for a fresh start.

However, I do feel hints of inspiration as I walk mummified through these frozen streets. Yesterday, on a frigid bus ride home with Adam, I suddenly thought about our garden, and what I want to plant this year. Even though I can't put a darn thing in the ground until April, I can still look through seed catalogs and draw up designs for the garden.

The point is, every day is a new day. So hallelujah for that. Maybe yesterday was awful, but today can be completely new. And we should allow our dreams and goals to evolve with the fluidity of each passing day, instead of it all hinging on one cold day just past winter solstice. New Years always creeps up on me, and I find I've had no time during the holidays to imagine the possibilities of the new year. And so I leave that for February. Sometimes even June. No matter what, I give myself the power to decide ANY day that I want life to be different. And if I fail one day, I just go to bed early and let the world remake itself as I sleep. When I wake up in the morning, the day is new, with no mistakes.

That being said, since this is the time of confessing our resolve for change, here are some ideas I have been chewing on:

1. I need a solid, regular, committed relationship with my yoga mat. It seems at this point that the only way that is going to happen is with an unlimited pass to Tru Yoga. So as soon as I have a paycheck, I am going to be spending at least 4 nights a week glued to my purple mat.

2. I need a paycheck.

3. I have been thinking about some lyrics by Ani Difranco, and they've been digging in, so much so that I can't shake them anymore:

"I had to leave the house of self-importance
to doodle my first tattoo
realize a tattoo is no more permanent
than I am"

I think I hold much too tightly onto the idea of what I am instead of oozing with the beauty of who I am. As silly as it sounds, this obsession is currently manifested in the terror I feel in contemplating chopping off my long hair. I have been thinking about it for months now, and still haven't done it, even though I actually found a photo of exactly what I want my hair to look like. The problem is, cutting my hair short feels like such a permanent act. It takes years to grow it long. But I have to remember that it's not a tattoo, it's not a wedding vow, and it's not an infant. It's my hair, and I have the earthly right of doing whatever the hell with it that I please. Yes, it is pretty when it's long, but I also only shower every three days because I hate waiting for my hair to dry. And, as long as it is, all I ever do is wrap it up in a little bun at the nape of my neck. But it's long and pretty, and sometimes I feel like it is a huge part of who I am. If it's gone, who am I?

All that being said, I have a hair appointment today at 3:00. I wrote this because I'm afraid I'll go in and say, just trim it, please. And I think that's cowardly.

More than a few experiences over the past few months have made me realize that this life is really all we have, and the more we sink inside ourselves, the less we will ever know about the possibilities of this world. Having the courage to do such a little thing as cut my hair is part of a huge awakening. If I can't get myself to part with these curly locks, I will never be able to do the wild things I imagine for this life.

When I was little, I used to lie in bed, paralyzed, trying to get myself to get up to go to the bathroom or get a drink of water. I was afraid of the dark, and monsters under my bed, and I would wait for more than 20 minutes, telling myself "Now!....Now!....NOW!" And I wouldn't lift a finger. This went on for months. Maybe years. Until the day I realized that if I had to tell myself to jump, I would never do it. So now I jump before anyone can say "Now!" And it works. That's how I get myself to jump off 20ft. cliffs into freezing cold water. That's how I buy plane tickets (and gear from REI...so bad). But seriously, I deliberate too damn long. I need to trust myself, and know that, as long as there are no rocks at the bottom, I'll survive any jump from any cliff I set my mind to.

So today, my resolution is to chop off my hair. If it's long enough, it will get donated to Locks of Love. The point is, I'm the one saying "Now!" Life is too short to waste on self-importance and fear. So here's to today, and all the possibilities that the rising sun brings.

possibility.

new topic, lots of time to get going on it.

i like to start my assignments by looking up the definition and etymology. not that i don't know what the word means, but sometimes we get lost in the various attachments we have to a word. it's good to start at the beginning.

possibility obviously comes from "possible" meaning able, but not certain to happen. Wiktionary says to also look at "power." so that in itself says a lot. power is not the same as action. ability is key.

(interjection: i'm listening to NPR's year review of music, and i just heard a great song by K'naan, who is a canadian rapper. normally, i would not like rap, but i liked his song, "take a minute", a lot. kind of a lesson in learning to welcome new possibilities and not to shut the door on opportunities.)

so part of the assignment this month is to look at where we squash our imagination and allow our expectations to be mundane. if the doorbell rings, we think postal worker, not long-lost friend. we set ourselves up for the ordinary, and we get comfortable with it.

the next part is, of course, to challenge yourself to do something to which you've said "i can't." it's hard for me to think about this, especially now, i think. i feel somewhat paralyzed by my financial situation (i.e. unemployment) and i'm not sure how to approach this. however, i'd like to tiptoe toward this challenge first by recalling the big goals that i have accomplished in the past, and to reflect on how i made those things happen.

i immediately think back to my time in spain as well as in the backcountry. those are the two things of which i am most proud. and i suppose i thought at some point leading up to them that they were impossible. my mom probably remembers one night the summer before i left for spain when i decided it wasn't possible to go. i was worried about money and logistics. and i probably started to worry about what it was going to be like to live away from home for a year. with the backcountry, i was worried that my schedule wouldn't line up, and that i was making a mistake in passing up my opportunity with Rochester AmeriCorps. maybe it wasn't a good idea to go live in the woods for 5 months. how was i to know then?

some people think it would be impossible to live in the woods for 5 months. some people couldn't manage to go to a country where they didn't know the language. some people wouldn't dare get on a plane! some people think it's impossible to bike commute during rochester's winter. or year-round, for that matter. some people think it would be impossible to give up cheese, to be vegan. (this is my pep-talk. i do impossible things!)

some things i think are "impossible":
1. having a regular yoga practice at home.
2. fasting. (this may seem strange, but i have weird fears of going without food...)
3. traveling around the world, for more than one month.
4. working in the backcountry again.
5. playing the guitar well
6. knowing more than 3 languages
7. being a professor, or getting a ph.d.
8. being a massage therapist or yoga teacher
9. living for more than a year in another country.
10. avoiding the use of gerunds.

these are some pretty big "impossibles" to make possible, especially by january 19th. but i think i can manage the first two by then. the most important lesson to take away from this month's theme is that impossible things take time to realize, and that small steps taken every day will lead you there. i once walked 70 miles to get half my sins forgiven. i hiked 20 miles in a day with blisters on my heels. the next day, i climbed a 10,700 ft peak. i jumped off cliffs into freezing cold water. i've gotten on planes & trains alone, and i've biked through the snow. all of these things took various types of steps. long, confident strides, small tiptoes, giant leaps, and near-misses. poco a poco...

the most important thing i've learned from this recap is that all of these goals were accomplished because i became obsessed with accomplishing them. i KNEW that these were things i had to do, and i did them. i knew i would never regret them, and always remember them. or at least i'd have some good stories to tell...

here's to the impossible, and to making it all possible.

cheers.

Memory

i've always liked the time before dawn because there's no one around to remind me who i'm supposed to be, so it's easier to remember who i am.
[brian andreas]

This month's theme for Soul Matters is "memory." The first part of our assignment is simple: What is your first memory? I've thought about this before, and I always go to the moment when I walked into the living room of what was our new house on Douglas street. I was about three, and I was very impressed by the dark red shag carpeting. The only problem that I have with that memory is that I'm pretty sure it's not mine. My mom used to always tell me that, at that moment, I exclaimed that I wanted the living room to be my room. And so I'm not sure it's authentic. While I thought about this last summer, I remembered the time when I asked my mom how to spell my name. My backcountry crew was asked to recall when we first realized our individuality, and that memory really stands out to me. Understanding that each person has a different name (generally) really confirms that we exist within our own identities. So that's my first memory.

The next part of the assignment asks us to rediscover a memento from the past that has disappeared on the mantle, one that we want to dust off and display once more. I'm not sure yet what I'll choose. I assume it would be some memento from my travels, but perhaps not. I'll have to go through my things and see what I can find.

The third part of our assignment is passing on our memories. That's where this blog (and the other two I have) come in handy. I have plenty of stories that I've accumulated over the years (again, mostly from my travels) and I am looking forward to reading them over and finding ones to share. I also hope to spend a lot more time this month recording my memories here. I really have so much that I need to write about. This is good motivation to do so.

Rev. Forrest Church said, "Who we are today is in large measure determined by what we choose to remember and how we choose to remember it." I think it's important to remember that we are making a legacy of our lives, and that we need not only make wild and beautiful memories, but we need to remember those moments with the dignity and imagination that they deserve. All my most beautiful memories come from moments when I felt awed or inspired by what I saw, heard, smelled, felt and even tasted. Opening to the magic of the moment helps us remember better.

We all have stories, and we should all be story-tellers. What's your story?

Deep Listening

This month's topic for my "Soul Matters" group is Deep Listening. There are three parts to our assignment, and I really haven't done much with any of them. One is to listen to surroundings, to be in a familiar place like the supermarket or the park and to listen to what is going on. The next is to listen to someone close to us, to really listen to what they have to say and to keep them talking, rather than waiting for our turn to talk. The last part is listening to something we don't really want to listen to, be it conservative talk shows or a voice in our heads that has been persistently nagging us. I'm not so good with fitting into every assignment, and prefer to use it as a guide for my own experiences.

I should say that I have listened deeply to someone close to me. On several occasions I focused quite a bit on talking with Adam and Betsy about various things. It's a good reminder to be present during all of those everyday moments. And I do try.

The conversation, though, that really sticks out to me came from the day that I volunteered at our Project Homelessness Connect event in Rochester. AmeriCorps members participated that day in helping the organizers bring social services and agencies to homeless Rochesterians to assist them and provide them with services they need. It was, in general, a very uplifting and heartening experience. But one thing that really bothered me was that many people felt they needed to cut in line or push people around so that they got what they needed. That is totally normal, when so many homeless people have to compete for a place in line for food, clothing and shelter EVERY NIGHT. I just wish that the organizers did more to make sure this was not a "survival of the fittest" type experience for anyone. But it was, and here's my story.

I was an escort for different individuals to help them find the resources they were looking for. Later in the afternoon, I walked around with Mike, a retired Marine who was going through a divorce. He was nice enough, though pretty suspicious of me (or a least uncomfortable walking around with me). It was strange to be helping a man that truly reminded me so much of my dad. We were waiting in line for the barber for over an hour (!!), and had been chatting with another man in front of us, when a 19-year-0ld kid cut in line. Now, we had been waiting for a long time, but there weren't many people in line and it was taking SO long that I can understand why the man in front of us got upset. But he grabbed the kids arm and told him to get back, that we were all waiting in line and that it was rude of him to cut. He was quite angry and the kid got angry too. Eventually, they were yelling at me to do something because I had some kind of authority. But I did not know what to do. So I said nothing. They kind of eyed each other for a while, muttering things, the boy not moving from his spot. The man looked to me again and said I had to do something, and the boy came over to talk to me. He was flipping out, yelling that he was bi-polar and that he blacks out when he gets angry and starts punching people, so that man definitely did not want to mess with him. And I simply said to him that everyone was waiting patiently and would he be okay just waiting in line with me instead. He was a bit hesitant at first, still insisting that he could definitely hurt that guy if he touched him again. But then he just started talking. He told me all about his mental health problems, about problems in his life and past, and he started to settle down. I asked him questions about his life and issues he had, and eventually he was fine. We talked a lot, and he told me everything. Everyone got their hair cut, and no one threw a punch. It was scary, but once I knew what to say, I was in complete control. And I have to think that in a small way I help that boy.

I know that a year ago I could have never stepped in on this disagreement, and I would never have known how to talk to this kid. But after a year of working with teens, I really do know how to talk to them, and, more importantly, how to respect them. They mostly just need someone who will listen to them, not judge them, and offer them advice, not a lecture.

And so, although I make an effort to listen deeply to all aspects of my life, today I am proud that when it REALLY counted, I was there to listen. And it really helped.

<3