THE BREAKING POINT

THE BREAKING POINT

 

Life can break you. There is no argument there. There is nothing that can protect you from the all too frequent messes, pain and just plain garbage that life drops in our laps.  I have thought a great deal about this, my life, my agonies and defeats and lost dreams and yes the successes. 

 

What sees us through these pathways of life?  What bolsters us up when we don't think we can take it any longer? My conclusion ~ love!  You have to feel it and ultimately come to realize it is the reason we are on this earth.  We are all here to risk our hearts, in one way or another.

 

Love of friends, family, oneself, dogs, music, travel, works of art, history, the sea, beauty, books, flowers,  a clean house, and soft, clean, silky blankets to curl up in when you are at the breaking point....are all there for us when we are at the breaking point. Yours may be substantially different from mine, but we are here to risk our heart, our lives, our passion, our treasures, and come face to face with the tiny moments where we find what we have been looking for, hoping for. These can be little things that for the moment bring a smile to our face and joy for a time.

 

Yesterday a friend sent me a photograph of his two turtles munching on broccoli and a kitten playing and snuggling with them. It was a precious photograph.  Another friend sent me a photo of her pet rabbit in a caterpillar costume. Both of these people are experiencing great, deep pain right now.  One the loss of his wife of 28 years and the other a warrior with tremendous battles to overcome on a daily and hourly basis. Yet in two photographs it showed me they still, although at the breaking point, were reaching out and were not allowing themselves to be swallowed up.  Perhaps the answer is when you are at this place you have to risk your heart, if you find yourself broken or betrayed, alone or hurt, or if death brushes way too near. You just might need to find a small moment to cherish and handle and savor with great care.

 

Tasting the sweetness of these moments doesn't make the pain vanish, but it does allow you to remember that there is life beyond the pain and you often have to quite literally force yourself to find the sweetness of a single second, a moment. 

 

Sometimes we have to be our own angels. 

 

We all have our ways of overcoming 'stuff' when we are at the breaking point.  But the singular point is that we try and that we help others try. We have to find our own moments and help others to find theirs.

"When words become unclear, I shall focus with photographs.  When images become inadequate, I shall be content with silence." ~ Ansel Adams

 

For me, I find my sanity and peace and joy and moments in the world of writing.  It focuses me, centers me, puts me back together.  There is a saying in the writing world: "If you can't feel it, you can't write it."

 

Whether in photographs of turtles and kittens and rabbits or simply sitting with a cup of hazelnut coffee at the computer, looking out the window at the pastel blue breaking through the early Sunday morning clouds, I find my emotions are heavy and deep and poignant. Our feelings are a huge part of what it is to be human. 

 

Life is too short to wake up in the morning with regrets. Ignore those people and circumstances who try to break you, brush them aside. For it is quite true that everything happens for a reason. And ultimately it is only hurting them, as they show you who and what they really are.

 

"The most authentic thing about us is our capacity to create, to overcome, to endure, to transform, to love, and to be greater than our suffering." ~ Ben Okri

 

Listen to others and to your own silent cries for love.  Inspire others and in so doing you will also inspire yourself. Your life, the way you live it, is your message to the world.  Make certain it is inspiring!!

 

~ " Be a LAMP, be a LIFEBOAT, be a LADDER.  Help someone's soul heal today.  Walk out of your house like a shepherd. ~Rumi

 

Even if you find it is your own soul you are saving.

WHAT THE WORLD NEEDS NOW

WHAT THE WORLD NEEDS NOW

We tweet, we e-mail, we text.  Everybody is chatting but is anybody listening?

Perhaps it is my age and stage of life, but it seems suddenly quite clear that we need to restore the vanishing art of conversation.  WE NEED TO TALK. And not only do we need to talk, WE NEED TO LISTEN! WE NEED TO HEAR!

 

It is all too easy to write words out of haste or anger and hit the send button. It is all too easy to leave messages on our answer phone with words that can cut, hurt, and cause irreparable pain. They quickly become stuck in our memories, our hearts and our inboxes. They cause pain, misunderstandings, and heartbreak, as they continually reverberate in our heads.

 

It isn't all about us. It is about taking the time to close our mouths and open our ears and hear when someone is in pain, or reaching out, or in need of our presence, or soup and tissues or someone to care that we are alone and just don't feel well and need someone to show they care.  What we don't need is their ambivalence and attitude of "I am too busy, or too important, and have too much to do to be there for you when you need me." Days and days go by and you get an email, "I hope you are feeling better."  Seems like caring just goes out the window. But they reached out in the most impersonal, least compassionate way possible.  A way that again tells you that you are not important enough to assist when needed, but because they sent an email their obligation was met and their guilt assauaged.  Or you get a text, 'can I do something for you. YES! Thank you!  Do you need for me to get anything at the store for you? YES!' I guess this is the 'new' communication.

 

The other day I was at lunch and out of dozens of customers there with 'friends', almost every person at the table was on his/her cell, texting, tweeting, communicating in some remote fashion. But none of them had any remorse that the person they were with was completely ignored.  Rude comes to mind instantly.  It tells me that I am not important enough and this person I am with puts me in the backseat while something more important is happening on his/her phone.

 

It is time to create that moment in our lives, in our friends lives, in the lives of our loved ones where we are really and truly present for them.  This is slipping away.  Platitudes are issued, "Well let me know what you need." But nothing is forthcoming. 

 

What we need is more touch.  We become more human when we touch and are touched.  Why? Because when we touch, we are seen.  And when we are seen, we realize that our value is not tied solely to our pain and grief.  And we find quite soon that our being is not trapped in silence and isolation.

 

Our feelings are so much a part of what it is to be human.  Sometimes, many times, we just need a hand to hold, asking nothing, receiving nothing, just being there and recognizing that we are human, and we hurt, and we need them there.

 

 

WHAT CAN'T YOU WAIT UNTIL?

 

What can't you wait until? 

 

I pondered and pondered this question quite last last night.  This is something I think we should all ask ourselves at some point in our lives, or perhaps more importantly many times in our lives. 

 

You know the drill ~ I can't wait until my kids are grown. I can't wait until I can get a better job. I can't wait to travel. I can't wait until I make more money. I can't wait 'until' I get married. And on and on. 

 

I can't wait until. There is always that 'until.'  But what if we can't wait.  What if we don't want to wait? What if time is running our and there may not be time for another 'until'?

 

Most of the time we are smitten with 'until'. It is a panacea, a place where everything will be beautiful and there will be no stress, anxiety or strife. It is a place where time stands still and all the moments incorporated into this place, this sanctuary, are exquisite, beautiful and timeless.  Moments that stay in our hearts and minds, never to be forgotten.

 

This question got me to thinking, to remembering, to cherishing moments of my life that I remember.  I remember making snow angels on the campus of Oklahoma University with my soon to be husband.  I remember when my daughter was seconds old and the nurse placed her in my arms.  I remember the loves of my life that turned out oh so wrong, carrying with them great pain and lessons to be learned.  I remember window boxes containing flowers that would make you gasp in Yugoslavia and pizza in Barcelona and summers in Paris with my aunt and uncle.  I remember wild raspberries on mountains in Colorado.  I remember the rumble of thunder shaking the earth in these same mountains.  I remember green moss growing effortlessly along peacefully flowing mountain streams. I remember looked at with love and my heart melting. I remember a yellow butterfly moving from flower to flower and the birds calling out their stories at the end of the day.  I remember moments of feeling peace. I remember being betrayed and hurt.  I remember fear of losing someone so dear to me to a stroke and praying endlessly.  I remember wandering the streets and alley ways of Seoul, Korea and absorbed in the sound of a country that intriguiged me tremendously.  I remember with the deepest love possible the dogs of my life.  I remember the breath of a horse as he nuzzled my neck, telling me in his own way that everything would be okay.

 

 

This morning I remember yesterday, sitting in the doctor's office waiting to be called in.  Three people sat with their backs to me.  One a young man playing games on his phone and next to him a Japanese couple watching the Home and Garden Network on the television above them.  The wife was bundled up in a beige crocheted shawl and cap.  I never saw her face.  The husband in an expensive suit, smiled constantly at his wife.  I returned to reading my book and glanced up again to see that he had put his arm around his wife.  With his finger tips he gently made circles on her back.  Then he would softly move his hand back and forth across her back.  I tried to continue reading my book but was mesmerized by this scene unraveling before me.  In this time and place I was witness to love.  To caring. To a man telling his beloved wife that he was there for her, that he loved her, that no matter what they were one. He then took two fingers and drew circles on her back and then returned to soft, tender strokes and pats that brought tears to my eyes in a waiting room in a doctor's office.  The simple beauty of this scene is one moment I shall never forget.  For in this moment, I became lost.  I became envious.  I became sad. I became alive to what love is.

 

I then knew what it was that I can't wait until.

 

YOU DON'T NEED A REASON TO HELP PEOPLE!
 

 

A real friend is one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out!!! What meaning this statement has. What tremendous depth. Think back when you needed someone, truly needed someone, and who was there for you. It might just surprise you. 

 

 

Friendship isn't about who you have known the longest, it is solely about who came when you needed them the most and never left your side. We must take responsibility for others.  For failing to accept this responsibility for others when they need you the most, or are hurting the most, results in negative consequences.

For years I have written intensively and passionately about 'the gift of presence.' So the assumption is correct, that I unquestionably believe in it.  It matters not what you say, but simply that you are there. It is the only and best gift you can give ~ the only one we  truly have.  I have lived it.  I have been the gift of presence for so many over my lifetime and have heard "thank you for just being there for me...it has meant the world. Thank you for listening, for holding my hand, for being my anchor" I always just assumed it was the least I could do as a being on this journey through life.  Now I realize it is the most I can do!  It truly does mean everything. Perhaps it is time we all evaluate whether or not we provide a gift of presence to those in need.

I have a friend whose wife is terminally ill and doesn't have much time left on this earth.  They have been married 28+ years and their journey has been one of love and devotion, with each being present for the other. She is in hospice at home.  His love for her has never been deeper. He is her sole caretaker and the toll on him and their children is showing.  He calls me so that I can listen.  I am an ear.  It is all I can do.  I am offering him my most precious gift! The gift of presence.  It is appreciated. He hand feeds her baby food, he bathes her, he listens to each breath she takes and cherishes it, he holds in his sorrow like a baby robin close to his chest. He loves this woman so much that he will not, cannot leave her side for a moment.  It was a vow, a promise they made to each other years ago. A vow he intends to keep. A gift never ending.

But being present and listening sometimes comes with self sacrifice and great pain,  and also an addendum...you must be able to truly hear.  You must be able to feel.  You must be able to dig deep into that well inside of you and find the compassion that each human being must have for another who needs them more than they might possibly ever know themselves or express.  We can send flowers, and cards and emails, and messages, or ask what they might want, but to be present, to listen, to hear, to offer your heart in its entirety and the compassion so desperately necessary when someone is hurting, is the greatest gift of all.  To me it is why we are on this earth.

We are each souls on this earth with gifts to give.  What are the gifts you have to give to this world, to those your love, to those you might not even know or ever meet?   What you are intending is what you create.  The energy of that intention comes back to you.  But somewhere along the way life screws us up and our priorities get out of whack and then you are unable to fulfill your purpose on this earth and for those who need you the most. You stumble and might wonder what went wrong.  Then the answer might not be so complex.  JUST BE THERE.

So my decades of writing about and promoting 'the gift of presence' was referencing what our dogs provide to us.  Unconditional, nonjudgmental love as they snuggle close, never leaving our sides, only understanding in some mystical way what we feel and what is needed.  If only more people could be the same, provide the same, asking for nothing in return. 

You just might find that when you are whole, giving, loving, and tender you begin to see others differently.  It is a gift you give that quite simply says, 'you are hurting, you are in need, I am here.'  The response you will receive is organically, viscerally, and instinctively vital ~ "I feel safe with you". Admiration deepens, love deepens, and the surprise ending is grace given in a sea of ignorance and kindness in a world sadly lacking real compassion.

There are times when our greatest triumph is that we are holding on quite simply by putting one foot in front of the other and enduring. It is a whole lot easier to 'get by' , to hang in there and to keep looking forward with hope and expectancy if there is someone offering you that blessed gift of presence.
 

WEEPING WITH ONE EYE

 

 

So many times TADSAW (Train a Dog Save a Warrior) has been asked why they do what they do and do it with such unwavering enthusiasm. Well, I once heard a quote, "Weeping with one eye." In other words, how could TADSAW just half way care?

 

 Someone who ignores half of the pain of another, never entering into that pain fully...this is an unsuccessful person...a person who can never take the pain away from another....for they were not fully involved to begin with. Well, TADSAW like many other organizations is different.  They struggle, they subject themselves to abuse, exhaustion, and criticism, yet they persevere. They will never willingly let a warrior down. They will never weep with one eye!!!

 

This led me to further consider that most of us are all filled with so many distractions, and so much noise, that we can't even hear the whispers, much less the screams, of those who need us the most or even see or recognize their pain, much less care. Many say they are sorry and then close the door and leave. 

 

My life seems to drip with emotion.  Tears of sorrow, joy, grief, aggravation, exhaustion, love, sadness can sometimes hit all on the same day.  Why?  Perhaps because I care.  I care deeply for others.  I feel their pain, and all other emotions wrapped up with it.  How could I just care half way? But it seems to be rampant. Why?

 

To me the answer lies in most people not being strong enough to enter fully into another's pain and suffering.  They do it for a myriad of reasons.  None of which are helpful.  For without being fully engaged into another's pain there is no way to take away their suffering. And in reality, you only hurt them more by not being fully present.

 

Yes, sometimes I want to get away, crawl into a hole, or find a deserted island and start over.  But then I realize I must live to be the person I was created to be.  So each day I begin all over again.  And I weep and laugh and find a way to alleviate the suffering of others, whether through work with my therapy dogs or through writing.  I can only hope that in some small way, for whatever time, their pain has been lessened, perhaps because I wept with both eyes and gave away my heart.

 

 

WHY I CHOOSE TO WRITE

“I choose to write because it's perfect for me. It's an escape, a place I can go to hide. It's a friend, when I feel out casted from everyone else. It's a journal, when the only story I can tell is my own. It's a book, when I need to be som...

ewhere else. It's control, when I feel so out of control. It's healing, when everything seems pretty messed up...."

~ Alysha Speer

 

 

Today I need all of those things, escape, a place to hide, the need to be somewhere else. Don't we all once in a while?  But do we ever admit it?  Do we ever say I need healing?  I feel pretty messed up. I want to run away.

 

I became aware long ago that more often than not the only time I feel heard, listened to, or understood is when I talk to my dogs.  I am sure many of you feel, 'poor woman'.  That's okay.  You have the freedom to choose to read further or to feel however you wish.  Just as do I.

 

It is in talking to my dogs that I feel I can say the truth, say exactly what I am feeling.  I don't have to wander around muttering under my breath, fearing someone will hear me or escape to the bathroom or my office and hide behind words that I don't feel comfortable saying outloud. I quite simply tell them what is in my heart.  I tell them when someone has hurt me...someone I least expected to.  I tell them I am afraid and feel lost and cold and alone.  I tell them that life isn't what I had expected and try to convince myself by convicing them that we all have to live the life we have and yet still wonder do we really?

 

Yesterday a warrior with severe PTSD/TBI and Military Sexual Trauma shared with me that she has been abused, beaten, and almost killed by her husband and has lost her son, her mother and had to put her beloved dog to sleep, all within a period of months. Her husband emptied her bank accounts, stole her computers, and the list goes on. Okay, how do you live with that?  What could I say to her?  How in God's name could I help her?

 

Because of her brain injuries from multiple deployments, she has no remembrance of how to do anything for herself, from keeping a check book, to remembering where she is going when she gets in the car.  How am I to help?

 

She calls me mom.  She has a service dog and told me the only thing that has kept her alive is when she looks into her dog's eyes she wonders how he could get along without her. What would happen to him? How am I to help?

 

She has called the VA multiple times and an attorney. No return phone calls.  She has seizures and no one to take care of her should she have one.  How am I to help?

 

This morning I tell my dogs I want to hide. I don't know what to do.  But on the phone she told me it was okay because she understood me and she knows I am having a melt down because I too have PTSD.  She was worried about me!

 

So I talk to my dogs as I sipped my hot chocolate at 5:00 AM.  I look into their eyes and find peace and solace and a place of consistent healing, understanding, and reality.  A place where I cannot hide from the truth, from pain, from the horrible feeling of being alone on this earth.

 

So with my dogs clustered around me as I find my old friend, writing, I try to come alive again and awaken aware of the injustices and hell that so very very many of our warriors endure.  So this morning, I have no choice.  I will try and find a way to help her.  Afterall she calls me mom. And that is what mothers are for.  To be there no matter what.  To love no matter what. And to answer again the call of a warrior.

 

Please remember how very much is sacrified and how many warriors in need are abused, deceived and used brutely by those that say they will help them.  Please pray for help for them all.

LULU

Lulu…

Someone said we are given memory so we can smell roses in December.

I had expected it to be on the front page of the Sunday paper, condolence calls, and flowers at the front door.  But there were none, nor were her life’s accomplishments in the obituary section of the paper. 

No one’s life was better for having known her, but mine.

 

 

 

 

She was the epitome of beauty.  When she and I took long walks, cars would stop to just look at her.  Her eyelashes framed her large eyes, as she followed every move I ever made. 

She wasn’t social or exuberant and her favorite place on earth was inside the house.  It was the only place she ever really wanted to be.

Her first two years she spent confined to a cage, barely big enough for her to turn around in.  On weekends, she was left alone in the dark.  She hated closed in spaces and longed for freedom.  I took her into my heart and home to find that she would take great delight in blessing my home with large branches, huge dirty footprints, and a dead rat.  The sofa cushions would become toys and were often found in the back yard.  Her beautiful white fur would decorate the shrubbery like Halloween decor.

She spent her last winter, as I had hoped she would, chasing birds and sniffing the air with contagious enthusiasm and energy.

Lulu taught me patience, tolerance and that good things come sometimes in very large, noisy packages.  She hated cameras and being left alone.  Despite her 145 pounds she was unobtrusive and preferred to stay in the background.  She was terrified of thunder and hated the long hot days of summer. 

The lid of the toilet had to be open and the kitchen countertops needed to be scrutinized for possible leftovers. Many a sandwich disappeared, if I had to answer a phone call.

Lulu and I went through 4 vacuum cleaners.

She would have loved today.  Bright, cool, crisp and blue skies. 

I watched her being born and held her just minutes later on New Years Day.  I gave her her first bath.

Once I admitted her into my life, I’ll never forget her.  I sometimes sense her in the kitchen nudging the pantry door to remind me that suppertime is close.  I always felt safe with her around.  When in truth, it was more likely Lulu who felt safe with me around.

 I am glad she knew no harm would ever come to her -ever again. Several years ago she left me, but each day I remember her by her photograph in my office.  I tell her good morning and begin my day. I truly loved her.