My Dad had heart surgery on his half birthday – his 84 1/2 birthday.  Not necessarily the way I, nor he, would choose to celebrate it.  He made it through the surgery fine but is suffering a few post surgical complications and has been moved to a rehab facility.  Understandably, he is frustrated, confused and depressed.  But to understand the extent of this, you have to understand my dad:

Here is a man who, in his youth, was a lifeguard at Seaside Heights, NJ, making it cool WAY before there was a Snookie or The Situation.  And trust me, he took his duties seriously and viewed it as a physical challenge to swim or row out into the ocean to save those in peril.  This led to a lifetime of physical fitness enthusiasm, with my early memories of his nightly hourly weight lifting in the basement, his riding his bike 6 miles to work way before it was fashionable to do so, and swimming countless laps during the “adult swims” at our swim club.  Oh, and there was the ice skating and cross country skiing in the winter and endless sledding too.  He was a regular Jack LaLane.

But the story doesn’t end in my childhood.  If anything, his athletic pursuits only increased with age and upon retirement he was now free to go on 4 hour rowing trips to Lake Michigan, 25 mile bike trips, and took up roller blading and of course had to skate about 10 miles per outing.  Oh, and did I mention along the way he developed rheumatoid arthritis and has scoliosis?  Never slowed him down for a minute.

This whole routine continued up until about, oh, last month, when his doctor told him he needed the surgery and had to take it down a notch. So, sitting in a rehab center – just sitting, unable any longer to do simple things – has got to do a number on him.

I decided to write him a letter of encouragement and post it here, because I have a feeling that someday I’ll need to reread the words for myself:

Dear Dad,

I am so glad you moved out of the hospital and into the rehab center – one more step on this long and winding path of recovery.  I can only imagine how frustrating and at times frightening this experience has been and continues to be.  Know that I am with you in spirit every step of the way, sending you lots of love and encouragement.

You have always been a source of inspiration to me:  the way you have overcome your physical adversities in the past without a complaint, the way you make every activity you do seem effortless, the way you just keep going no matter what.   You are one of the most stubborn, determined and capable men I know.  And so now is the perfect time to dig deep down into that old MacMeekin stubbornness and fight back, looking at this current situation as just a new challenge that yes, you will accept and meet and overcome, just like you’ve done all the others.  You will walk down the hall, and out the door of that facility, and I have no doubt that in time you will be walking a lot further than anyone anticipated.

Except me.  Because I know you can do it and I know you know it too.  So, here’s to one more step…and then another..and then another.   We’ve all got your back and are cheering you on!!

Love, Janet

I am a great one to ponder the reason for my existence at any particular time: why I am where I am, what I am supposed to be doing.  I can get mired in the mundane minutia of my life and wonder if this is all there is.  And I have been know to gaze heavenward on more than a couple of occasions and practically beg “What do you want me to do?”

I’m not quite sure what I expect in return.  I guess I am anticipating something pretty significant and something pretty undeniably concrete.  Preferably in writing.  (My memory isn’t what it used to be).  So far that just ain’t happening.

What I did get was this: a minister, whom I have been tolerating until my daughter gets confirmed and we can move on, suddenly preaches a sermon that truly grabs me when he starts talking about finding your calling. I find myself taking notes in church.  He quotes Frederick Buechner who said that your calling is “where your deepest joy meets the world’s greatest need”.  It becomes my new favorite quote.

When I was a sales person I remember going to my favorite client with a great idea.  That kindly soul looked at me and said “That’s a solution looking for a problem”.  I think that’s how I’ve approached finding the answer to my life question before – backwards.  Instead of starting with discovering my joy, I’ve always tried to figure out the outside need first.  It’s a whole new ballgame when I begin with myself first.

So, if I had list my deepest joys, a good start would include:

• Being a mother
• Being a friend
• Being someone who can listen and give advice
• Connecting people
• Sharing a laugh
• Writing something that touches someone

Come to think of it, maybe the world does need those things after all….

My darling friend Carol passed away a month ago today.  She was one of the most vibrant, alive persons I had ever met.  Something so shimmery and radiant about her, it almost makes sense that she was not to be long for this world.  Still, her passing hit me hard and has made me question our existence here on this planet whose very own existence seems precarious at best some days.

Last week I was feeling a little lost and confused and looking for guidance – so while I was out on a walk I decided to ask my buddy Carol for a little TLC, as she was SO good at doing.  I figured if anyone was ever going to be just on the other side ready to be of assistance, it would be her.  I had a little chat with my ethereal friend and said, “Carol, let’s just say that you’ll let me know it’s you sending me the message by having there be something orange nearby, ok?” (for some reason, I think of orange when I think of Carol…).  Just then an orange van drives by me.  I’m not kidding.

So yesterday, again, I’m feeling that “what is life all about/what the hell am I supposed to be doing”  feeling, talking a walk, and I notice a robin.  Not unusual in these parts.  I turn and my foot kicks something.  I look down and it’s a stone – in the shape of a heart.  I just have to believe it was my darling Carol summoning up that orange breasted robin and showing me through that stone that once again, regardless of what you do, it’s all about love.

Ain’t it the truth….

The first two hours of my business conference yesterday were great.  Old friends shuttled by my information booth, surprised to see my new surroundings.  Hugs were shared all around.  New clients and potential clients cautiously ventured by during the next few hours and I got the chance to practice my pitch and make new friends at the same time.  After a time the traffic slowed and moved from our area.  Now bored, I turned and looked out the enormous windows and realized it was SPRING!  People were sitting outside in shirtsleeves with sunglasses, soaking up the sun.  Birds were flying by.  The grass was green.  The sky was a deep blue.  It was pure torture to be inside looking out!

I sat inside – literally – for about an hour until I could take it no longer and then just walked down the stairs and out the door and into the sunshine.  I had no idea where to go, but took a little stroll around the courtyard.  The cherry trees were in bloom!  The breeze had that gentle warmth.  The sun – oh the SUN!  After the rainy weekend we had, just feeling of the sun on my skin was decadent!

As I was reflecting later on that feeling of holding myself back from going out into the sun, I realized that was today’s theme.  Holding myself back had also occurred to me earlier in the day when I was putting in my contacts.  I now wear soft lenses and just love them.  I’ve had contacts for about 40 years and liked wearing them the first 20 and probably didn’t like them the next 10 and hated them the last 10.  Of course I wouldn’t change from my hard lenses for some unknown reason during that time.   So I was thinking how many other times have I held myself back from enjoying life/feeling better/being successful because I was either too afraid to task a risk or too comfortable with the devil I knew.

And of course, I got this inspirational quote in my email yesterday:

“You know, the billions and billions who came before you, who used to live in the jungles of time and space. Their adventure is over. You know what else? Given another chance, they’d take more risks. Not because they’d always succeed, but because from where they are now, the glory of knowing they at least tried, far exceeds any regrets of never knowing what might have been”

Guess I’m walking out another door into the sunshine again today!

I went to visit my dear aunt on her 93rd birthday this weekend.  What a treat it was, indeed, as I truly thought the next time I was to make that trip would be for her funeral.  She had been very ill a year ago and now has rallied to a point where it was not easy to tell she had ever been at death’s door.  The light shone brightly from her eyes and made her look more alive than others I’ve seen lifetimes younger than her.

I can’t imagine what it must be like to be 93 any more than I could imagine what it would be like to be 53 when I was a child.  I’m actually still trying to figure out what growing older means, even though I’ve had a couple years of practice at it now.  I wonder if when you are 93 you still think you’re a 19 year old trapped inside this unfamiliar body, like I do today.  I wonder if you stare at yourself in the mirror and see your parents.  I wonder if you still look ahead to what will be or if you finally realize that this is it.

When I’m 93 I hope I am still of sound mind, body and spirit.  I hope I am surrounded by those I love, but if I’m not, I hope I still recognize my loved ones and remember just what I love about them.   I hope I can walk in the sunshine, but if I can’t, I hope I can sit and appreciate the Spring breeze and the smell of budding life about to burst anew.  I hope I can share a conversation and a laugh with friends, but if I can’t, I hope I can remember the times we did.

I hope for today that I can live fully and appreciate what an amazing life I’ve got, so that when I am 93, I’ll have wonderful memories to keep me smiling.

A friend of mine was saying she was going to sit down to write today, inspired by the snowy weather.  She is always writing, so this didn’t seem to be such an unusual event for her.  I, on the other hand, am less a disciplined writer as I am an inspired writer.  I wait until I get an idea which can pop into my consciousness at any time, but particularly when I am doing quiet activities.  Driving is a good one, meditation often produces inspired ideas and showering seems to spark some creative muse.  So in contemplating my writing, I realized that I think of it as “sacred”.  There are  pieces I’ve written which came more from the ego than the …well, wherever the others come from.  They are much more stylized and contrite.  My inspired writing just flows, as if I am having a conversation with an unknown reader.  You, for instance, whomever ”you” may be!

And this contemplation led me to think about how other parts of my life are not, however, what I consider to be “Sacred”.  These are acts done for more selfish pursuits .  And yet, as I followed that rambling train of thought, I realized that it only takes a subtle shift to make them as fluid and sacred as my writing.  If I remove my ego-intent from the equation and replace it with the intention to let it flow naturally, it does  take on a an elevated purpose and status.  A cosmic flip of my internal “intention switch” and I find myself back on a track that feels right, not the one that  find me fighting or slogging my way through to my goal. What a delight to be a contented observer of the journey of life, rather than  the driver with only the end place in mind, missing the scenery along the way.

I read today in “Haiku Mind” by Patricia Donegan a haiku written by Allen Ginsberg which describes the concept of “sky mind”.  The Buddhist tradition of sky meditation says that at any time you can look into the sky to remember the vastness and openness that is always with us.  I started thinking about that concept of my mind as the sky, with my thoughts and feelings merely clouds passing through, and realized the analogy works beautifully in my life.

In the morning my mind is like the sky at sunrise:  a bit of brightness trying to peak through, surrounded by a lot of fuzzy gray.  Eventually, after moving around and having some coffee, the sky brightens and opens up.  There are days when the clouds are harmless soft fluffy cumulus one, with the thoughts and feelings drifting in and out.  Some days there is even a wider expanse, as I am fully open to what the day holds, with nothing to hold me back.

There are other days when no matter what I do, there is fog.  Maybe a light will shine through for a minute, but mainly my thoughts are fuzzy.  Some days the sky is dark and covered with angry clouds.  Thoughts and feelings are intense and come fast and furiously.  I need to remember that behind them is that beautiful blue expansiveness, waiting patiently to make its presence know.  This too shall pass.

The brightness of a spring day after a long dull winter is nothing short of exhilarating to me in the same way a day when my mind is clear and sharp and creative compares to those foggy, muddling days.  With gratitude today I gaze out my office window at the brightness greeting me and smile at the reminder of openness and possibility life is presenting me.  The sky is indeed the limit.

There is something so very rewarding about shoveling.  It’s the winter equivalent of weeding a garden.  When I first look at the task at hand, I shudder and think of a million other things I just HAVE to do now, or who I could get to do it for me.  But once I resign myself to the task and get into the mindless rhythm of it, I find myself smiling.  I love the way my muscles respond to the challenge, even while knowing that while I couldn’t tell you which ones I’m using in the moment, I will be made painfully aware of their presence in the morning!  I love the silence that envelopes the otherwise bustling block.  Gleeful squeals from kids on sleds or playful barks from dogs overjoyed with their snowy wonderland replace the sound of cars rushing by.  The scraping of shovel against sidewalk is like striking gold and each exposed patch of the concrete path makes me swell with pride at my accomplishment.

Shoveling, like any mindless chore, gives me a great opportunity to give my conscious mind a job to do and frees my unconscious mind to roam freely.  Ideas come spilling forward and the excitement of the job well done combines with the excitement of new things to do or write or imagine.  Before I realize it I am nearly done and return all my focus to “breaking through” to the other side  and completing my mission.

I walk back inside, feeling tired but proud.  I go to the picture window to survey my handiwork, just as the plows storm by and fill back in the driveway.  The sidewalk, bare a minute ago, has already been covered by the still falling snow.  I sigh, and then smile, remembering that sweet time of escape I just experienced.  Looks like Mother Nature is going to give me lots of opportunities to feel that again!

Social networking is nirvana to relationship hoarders.  I know – I’m one of them.  I’ve come to this realization by observing just how excited I get whenever someone from my past reaches out to me.  I believe the proper term would be “giddy”.

Many years ago I heard the story of The Prodigal Son and just did not understand why this bad boy got all this attention.  Now I totally get that killing the fatted calf and throwing the party thing.  Obviously this guy was also a relationship hoarder.  It’s like a part of yourself come back home.  It makes you feel complete.  And it also is a great excuse for a party

I recognize that there are two types of individuals:  those who love to keep ties to the past and those who believe the past is the past and let’s just keep it at that, thank you very much.  Even in my own family we vary wildly.  My mother stated to me “Why in the world would you want to get back in touch with those people?”  This is also coming from a woman who still has lunch with elementary school friends, mind you, so I don’t necessarily think she’d balk if someone got back in touch with her either.  I think it just doesn’t feel like finding a missing jigsaw puzzle piece to her.  My ex on the other hand had a hard time coming up with people to invite to our wedding outside of our current circle of friends.  Getting back in touch with even close friends from the past was as foreign and disdainful a concept for him as NOT getting in touch with them would be for me.

I’ve always been like this.  Way before there were computers and we actually wrote letters, I was notorious for sending birthday cards to everyone – even people I barely knew.  I wrote lengthy letters to friends I’d met the week before – and continued to do so for extended periods of time.  I distinctly remember getting back in touch with a good friend after not communicating for 20 years and the feeling similar to that of finding a lost part of me was overwhelming.  If there were fatted calves in the area, they would have been in serious danger of losing their life!

I love the concept that I am tied to people I’ve known and that have known me by this invisible virtual cord.  Perhaps it’s a security blanket of sorts so that I know that I did actually have a past, even if my less than stellar memory can’t always put all the pieces together.  Maybe it’s the old “Sally Field syndrome”:  “You like me! You really, really like me!”  More so I just love seeing pieces of this quilt of life being woven together in front of me.  How else would I have known that one of my 3^rd grade students from Michigan knew one of my corporate bosses from Vermont?  I can’t help but think there are more connections out there that are as yet undetected and waiting to be uncovered.

On those days when life becomes overwhelming and I feel like such an insignificant cog in a massive wheel, I only have to look at these amazing connections and see the warm and wonderful creation they have woven that makes the world a smaller and cozy place to be.  I can’t wait to greet the next “old” friend virtually or uncover another amazing mutual connection.  Bring on them calves!

In the three years of the Spanish Inquisition, nine million women were killed for being witches.  Nine million!  These were women who were generally sought out for their healing, counseling and midwifery skills.  Women who were using their gifts and helping others.  Can you imagine the lessons that women for generations taught their daughters about NOT showing their skills?  It makes perfect sense to me that somehow this real fear has been translated into so many unconscious fears that exist today and prevent women from taking risks and following their path.

I’ve been working lately with entrepreneurs who come from life conditions so much more difficult than mine and yet they are willing to take the risks to move their life forward.  They are a reminder to me that my biggest obstacle is between my ears.  Perhaps I have latent fears passed down from generations rolling around in there.  Perhaps I have merely morphed situations into something much bigger and scarier than they really are or need to be.  But looking at what can be accomplished in spite of fears, real or imagined, with an attitude of trust and conviction and a focused grasp on your purpose is truly an inspiration to me.  What a blessing to be able to witness the strength of the internal spirit!