On this sweat lodge night the sunset was magnificent with the mountains of the Wind River Range in the distance turning purple. The few streaks of clouds in the sky turned bright pink to pastel orange and then the first star (a planet really) appeared. A new moon, the stars would be glorious at this altitude tonight.
Molly was beginning to get very nervous so Stanford had talked to her for awhile in the kitchen and loaded her up with a big bed spread and other large beach towels. She was told to sit beside him. I was also to sit close to him (and of course, Molly!) so that I could hear him tell me when to remove my hearing aids. He didn't want me to wear those as the heat would be too much but he didn't want me to miss out on any of the sharing and things that would be said either. So Molly and I were put beside Stanford, who lies on a mattress by one of the two doors.
We already knew to have towels to cover our skin to protect it against the heat. One of the young Arapaho girls doing the sweat educated us on how to get as low as possible and completely cover yourself with the larger towel if the heat got to be too much. This was really good information! Molly practiced this and with her bed spread she was completely covered and therefore protected.
Stanford spoke softly to me while everyone was getting settled and asked if I would be willing to share my story with everyone. I agreed that I would. I knew that this is part of a sweat; participants share the pain in their heart, the purging of emotions that must be purged. He asked that the doors be closed - the "doors" are just heavy blankets that are pulled down over the 2 entrances to the lodge. It is pitch black once the doors close. I moved closer to Molly and she and I grasped hands through our towels.
Stanford thanked everyone for coming and for all the help he got in preparing the sweat tonight. He then said "Mary, would you share your story with everyone please" ... and I did. My voice was very shaky but I was able to get through it without breaking down. I shared my story with the 5 women who already knew it intimately and with a dozen Arapaho people who didn't even know my name. I shared that my husband, Jim, was diagnosed with brain cancer on December 29th, 2008 and how he survived for sixteen months, almost twice as long as all his doctors predicted. I shared how his right side had become paralyzed and he lost his ability to speak, how strong and beautiful his spirit was, how the Eagles had circled Jim and I that morning back in April, so close that we could see their eyes and this prompted me to contact Stanford to have this sweat for Jim ... but Jim died in May and I decided to come anyway and that perhaps this is what the Eagles saw as what was needed all along.
Stanford quietly thanked me for sharing, thanked me for all the work and caring I must have needed to do to take care of Jim. My tears were now flowing silently and freely. Then he asked for the water to be poured on the rocks. I suddenly realized, since on one else was asked to share, this sweat was devoted to Jim and that all those gathered were now going to support me in my healing. And then with a large hiss we were hit with a wall of heat like nothing I have ever experienced before.
There are four rounds to a sweat. Each round lasts only 10-15 minutes and then the doors open and everyone gets to take a break. As I emerged with bare feet I saw my friend, Willo, sitting with Daniel - Stanford's adopted son, the biological son of Stan's dead brother - and Daniel's girlfriend on a rug beside the lodge. They called me over to sit with them. Daniel leaned over and asked "who are you?". I was taken aback by this question as I understood now that this was not really asking me my name. Who am I? For a few seconds I thought of saying I'm the woman who traveled from sea level where the air is salt kissed to 7,000 feet and a sage scented land. I'm the woman who lies down alone at night with a heart so heavy I'm never sure I will be able to get up and carry it again come morning. I'm the woman who, after all these years, must try to navigate a whole new life without an oar anymore ... or an anchor. But I looked at Daniel and said, "I'm Mary".
Willo leaned over and told me that nobody knew who was talking. OH! Yes, I'm Mary. Daniel - who has jet black hair that flows to his waist and the high, strong cheekbones of his people - leaned over, took my hand and looking me in the eye said "I'm sorry for your loss". His girlfriend then did the same thing and told me that her grandmother had died in April from lung cancer and she understood how terrible it is to lose someone to this disease.
I realized that this is what a sweat lodge does, all who share in it are equal, everyone has pain, everyone has some kind of tragedy in their life ... and in the sweat lodge all are embraced because of this pain, because we all share it, because we are all connected. It's truly a wonderful thing to experience.
Stanford had spent the break talking to one of my comrades who, due to a severe jolt of claustrophobia, had to make her escape from the lodge before the second door got closed, thus missing the first round. I don't know what Stanford said to her but she entered the lodge again and sat by the door determined to stay for the entire second round. I was incredibly proud of her and my respect for Stanford rose even higher.
Round two was about to begin .....
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Sweat Lodge - chapter one
I'm realizing this whole event needs to be done in chapters, there's just too much to try to put into one blog.
On Wednesday, September 1, all 6 gals rendezvoused outside of Fort Collins, Colorado and in 2 cars we made the journey towards Lander, Wyoming. The sweat lodge was scheduled for Thurs. Sept. 2. We were told to plan on arriving at Stanfords house between 12:00 and 3:00 on the 2nd in order to cook dinner for everyone (this could mean up to 35 people - many will gather for a sweat lodge) that would be consumed after the sweat. In addition we would purchase things that Lisa Jones had told us were favorites; Fanta orange soda, diet and regular soda of any flavor, pesto, Kool light soft packs, to name a few.
The six of us had a wonderful morning of exploring Lander, lunch and then hit the grocery store timing it so we would be at the Addison's by 3:30, which we were. The initial "welcome" was very confusing ... nobody seemed to know we were coming and seemed surprised there was going to be a sweat. Stanford was off in another town running errands. Uh-oh. Luckily a couple of my gal pals weren't intimidated by this, started unloading the car saying "well, we've brought dinner and we're going to get it cooking for y'all now". This was fine, no problem. Stanford would be back around 5:00 or 5:30 and the sweat would, indeed, take place by sunset.
There was a lot of just hanging out, walking to the horse corral, walking to the river, all kinds of people coming and going with kids and dogs appearing and disappering. It's literally a beehive of activity. I was struck by how no one really introduced themselves. They would say hello and give big, warm, welcoming smiles but names did not seem important at all.
Stanford arrived and we helped unload the car that was filled with supplies. Stanford waved hello to everyone, drove his wheel chair up the ramp and disappeared into the house to have a cigarette. We slowly made our way in and all introduced ourselves and were told that it was still too hot for a sweat so it would wait until sundown. Molly (my niece) and I decided to take a walk down a cow path. We were immediately joined by 2 young boys who, they told us, were cousins. They had just returned from town with plastic guns that shot tiny, hard, bright green plastic BB's. Great, I thought! These 2 never asked our names and we didn't ask them theirs. They were our warriors and all set to protect us ... once they understood that we would not be intimidated and taken hostage that is! I never knew so many rattlesnakes could exist just out of sight on this cow path. There seemed to be one every 25 yards .... or so these boys said ... and they had to be shot at to scare them away - of course! And then there were free range bulls behind every bush. We were told to "RUN!" but when we didn't we were told that it was OK, they could protect us. Phew.
By the time we got back to the house with these two young warriors they were asking us our names. Ah, getting to know you and understanding how you are as a person is far more important then a name. I liked this, and felt delighted when our new friends now wanted to know how to call to us.
Stanford was driving his wheel chair out to the corral just as we got back to the house so we followed along. After the horses seemed to accept a few of us there with Stan he turned to me and said "Mary, when did you call me?". I walked over and said "well, Stanford, I called you back in April initially. I am the woman Lisa Jones talked to you about. My husband had brain cancer and we agreed that a sweat for him would be good. Then I called you in June to tell you that he had passed away in May but that I still wanted to do a sweat and we agreed on this date, September 2." As I was talking I saw Stanford start to remember all this and I continued to say "I didn't want to bug you and call you again to remind you as I thought you'd probably remember," and then I added with a laugh "but I guess not huh?". Stanford laughed with me and just said "yeah, I screwed that one up!"
The afternoon wore on and since nobody had watches or cell phones we never really knew the time, just that the sun was getting lower in the sky and it was beginning to cool off quite a bit. We all agreed that just being with this family was very much part of the whole adventure. I was sitting on the small porch just off the kitchen when Stanford wheeled out and parked right beside me and started chatting with everyone who was on the porch at this time.
"So, Mary, how many people did you bring?", he asked.
"Oh, about 2,000." He laughed pretty hard at this. The whole family, including Stan, have a wonderful sense of humor and are very easy going so it was not hard to just hang around for all these hours waiting for the sweat.
The fire to heat the rocks had been started and constantly attended by a couple men for awhile now and these same men were now using shovels to carry these rocks to the pit inside the lodge .... it was almost sweat time. Others told us that usually there is a sweat on Wednesday nights but there had not been one last night - Wednesday the first - so everyone was excited that there would be a sweat after all.
The six of us from Maine had many emotions, all mixed, about this sweat lodge that was getting prepared for all of us.
To be continued ....
On Wednesday, September 1, all 6 gals rendezvoused outside of Fort Collins, Colorado and in 2 cars we made the journey towards Lander, Wyoming. The sweat lodge was scheduled for Thurs. Sept. 2. We were told to plan on arriving at Stanfords house between 12:00 and 3:00 on the 2nd in order to cook dinner for everyone (this could mean up to 35 people - many will gather for a sweat lodge) that would be consumed after the sweat. In addition we would purchase things that Lisa Jones had told us were favorites; Fanta orange soda, diet and regular soda of any flavor, pesto, Kool light soft packs, to name a few.
The six of us had a wonderful morning of exploring Lander, lunch and then hit the grocery store timing it so we would be at the Addison's by 3:30, which we were. The initial "welcome" was very confusing ... nobody seemed to know we were coming and seemed surprised there was going to be a sweat. Stanford was off in another town running errands. Uh-oh. Luckily a couple of my gal pals weren't intimidated by this, started unloading the car saying "well, we've brought dinner and we're going to get it cooking for y'all now". This was fine, no problem. Stanford would be back around 5:00 or 5:30 and the sweat would, indeed, take place by sunset.
There was a lot of just hanging out, walking to the horse corral, walking to the river, all kinds of people coming and going with kids and dogs appearing and disappering. It's literally a beehive of activity. I was struck by how no one really introduced themselves. They would say hello and give big, warm, welcoming smiles but names did not seem important at all.
Stanford arrived and we helped unload the car that was filled with supplies. Stanford waved hello to everyone, drove his wheel chair up the ramp and disappeared into the house to have a cigarette. We slowly made our way in and all introduced ourselves and were told that it was still too hot for a sweat so it would wait until sundown. Molly (my niece) and I decided to take a walk down a cow path. We were immediately joined by 2 young boys who, they told us, were cousins. They had just returned from town with plastic guns that shot tiny, hard, bright green plastic BB's. Great, I thought! These 2 never asked our names and we didn't ask them theirs. They were our warriors and all set to protect us ... once they understood that we would not be intimidated and taken hostage that is! I never knew so many rattlesnakes could exist just out of sight on this cow path. There seemed to be one every 25 yards .... or so these boys said ... and they had to be shot at to scare them away - of course! And then there were free range bulls behind every bush. We were told to "RUN!" but when we didn't we were told that it was OK, they could protect us. Phew.
By the time we got back to the house with these two young warriors they were asking us our names. Ah, getting to know you and understanding how you are as a person is far more important then a name. I liked this, and felt delighted when our new friends now wanted to know how to call to us.
Stanford was driving his wheel chair out to the corral just as we got back to the house so we followed along. After the horses seemed to accept a few of us there with Stan he turned to me and said "Mary, when did you call me?". I walked over and said "well, Stanford, I called you back in April initially. I am the woman Lisa Jones talked to you about. My husband had brain cancer and we agreed that a sweat for him would be good. Then I called you in June to tell you that he had passed away in May but that I still wanted to do a sweat and we agreed on this date, September 2." As I was talking I saw Stanford start to remember all this and I continued to say "I didn't want to bug you and call you again to remind you as I thought you'd probably remember," and then I added with a laugh "but I guess not huh?". Stanford laughed with me and just said "yeah, I screwed that one up!"
The afternoon wore on and since nobody had watches or cell phones we never really knew the time, just that the sun was getting lower in the sky and it was beginning to cool off quite a bit. We all agreed that just being with this family was very much part of the whole adventure. I was sitting on the small porch just off the kitchen when Stanford wheeled out and parked right beside me and started chatting with everyone who was on the porch at this time.
"So, Mary, how many people did you bring?", he asked.
"Oh, about 2,000." He laughed pretty hard at this. The whole family, including Stan, have a wonderful sense of humor and are very easy going so it was not hard to just hang around for all these hours waiting for the sweat.
The fire to heat the rocks had been started and constantly attended by a couple men for awhile now and these same men were now using shovels to carry these rocks to the pit inside the lodge .... it was almost sweat time. Others told us that usually there is a sweat on Wednesday nights but there had not been one last night - Wednesday the first - so everyone was excited that there would be a sweat after all.
The six of us from Maine had many emotions, all mixed, about this sweat lodge that was getting prepared for all of us.
To be continued ....
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Light
This morning the sunrise was so beautiful. Each cloud was glowing with a golden light that turned pink and then purple as the sun rose higher. This light extended to all the trees so that each branch was rose colored. Always takes my breath away when I can witness this.
Last night the sunset had the bay on fire and each boat out there ignited in a fuschia colored glow. As I looked out over that gorgeous scene I talked to Jim, told him how much I miss him and how he would not have allowed me to just sit here, not wanting to go out or really see anyone. Jim couldn't sit still like that, couldn't have just watched the sun go down ... he needed to be out in it. I told him I don't know why he had to go first, it seems to me he had so much more to offer this world then I do. He was the one that blazed through life and wanted to accomplish so many things. It makes no sense to me - not that I expect it ever will. I worry I needed Jim to keep me lusting for life and interested in it. I can sit and watch it all go by lately.
The waning moon was still pretty big and bright when I turned off my bedside lamp. I usually would go to bed before Jim but whenever the moon was reflecting it's spot light on the water, like it was last night, I would call Jim to come see it. He always would and we would stand in the window with arms around each other just soaking up the moonlight. I felt him here with me last night. Felt that he was looking at this moon with me. It was a brief sensation, but I trust it was what it was.
Many folks are saying to me "you HAVE to tell me about the sweat when you get back!" And I plan to do this. I will have my computer with me knowing that I have internet service while in Denver and with Jim's sister on the western slope, so I will be able to post the before and after thoughts, for those who want to check in.
I'm looking forward to being in the mountains again. I need space that open with that big sky and those jagged peaks. It will be very different being out there without Jim. Very, very different.
Loving you all back,
Mary
Last night the sunset had the bay on fire and each boat out there ignited in a fuschia colored glow. As I looked out over that gorgeous scene I talked to Jim, told him how much I miss him and how he would not have allowed me to just sit here, not wanting to go out or really see anyone. Jim couldn't sit still like that, couldn't have just watched the sun go down ... he needed to be out in it. I told him I don't know why he had to go first, it seems to me he had so much more to offer this world then I do. He was the one that blazed through life and wanted to accomplish so many things. It makes no sense to me - not that I expect it ever will. I worry I needed Jim to keep me lusting for life and interested in it. I can sit and watch it all go by lately.
The waning moon was still pretty big and bright when I turned off my bedside lamp. I usually would go to bed before Jim but whenever the moon was reflecting it's spot light on the water, like it was last night, I would call Jim to come see it. He always would and we would stand in the window with arms around each other just soaking up the moonlight. I felt him here with me last night. Felt that he was looking at this moon with me. It was a brief sensation, but I trust it was what it was.
Many folks are saying to me "you HAVE to tell me about the sweat when you get back!" And I plan to do this. I will have my computer with me knowing that I have internet service while in Denver and with Jim's sister on the western slope, so I will be able to post the before and after thoughts, for those who want to check in.
I'm looking forward to being in the mountains again. I need space that open with that big sky and those jagged peaks. It will be very different being out there without Jim. Very, very different.
Loving you all back,
Mary
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
August 25th
Yup, today is our anniversary. I always would say "legally we've been married for 26 years, but illegally we lived together for 5 years". And Jim would laugh. I was always very proud - and amazed - at how long he and I had been together .... happily .... very much together.
It's raining here today. A much needed soaking for this little state in the Union. Seems appropriate for my mood too - a bit withdrawn, a bit gray and wet. I thought I'd try to just not acknowledge the day today, maybe it would pass silently, slither by like that little garter snake I saw in the garden the other day ... so silent and beautiful and quick to disappear. But, like my birthday, it's another difficult "first" and it's not really going to just slip easily away from me I guess.
Oh, I don't feel any big desire to do some kind of tribute - God no, that might destroy me. But I do feel a need to have a diversion. My niece, Molly, seems to be jumping in with all kinds of ideas of what she and I can do today after work. A movie might just fit the bill; big screen visuals with someone else's life playing out in front of me. She wants to see Eat, Pray, Love. I loved the book so assume I won't love the movie. I also refer to this scenario when I say "when will I get out of my fetal position and pull myself off the bathroom floor, fly off to Italy, buy a villa, pull my life together again and write a memoir that Oprah will scoop up so it becomes a best seller?"
Dream a little dream for me .....
So not only is it a gray day for me, it's actually been a very hard week. I seemed to reach down even deeper into the depths of despair and longing for this best friend of mine. "They" say it will get easier. "They" is actually several widowed friends of mine who are almost convincing me that it does soften, that I can continue in this world and find my way, just have to get through all these damn firsts I guess. Hard to believe the seconds will truly be easier.
In addition, I have to go to the dentist this morning. I'm not kidding. And I think I'll have to schedule having one of my four wisdom teeth pulled since one is beginning to really bother me. I do find this a bit humorous and probably could come up with all kinds of analogies. But I'm not going to.
I do know that Jim would have enjoyed the humor in this.
Loving you all back
Mary
It's raining here today. A much needed soaking for this little state in the Union. Seems appropriate for my mood too - a bit withdrawn, a bit gray and wet. I thought I'd try to just not acknowledge the day today, maybe it would pass silently, slither by like that little garter snake I saw in the garden the other day ... so silent and beautiful and quick to disappear. But, like my birthday, it's another difficult "first" and it's not really going to just slip easily away from me I guess.
Oh, I don't feel any big desire to do some kind of tribute - God no, that might destroy me. But I do feel a need to have a diversion. My niece, Molly, seems to be jumping in with all kinds of ideas of what she and I can do today after work. A movie might just fit the bill; big screen visuals with someone else's life playing out in front of me. She wants to see Eat, Pray, Love. I loved the book so assume I won't love the movie. I also refer to this scenario when I say "when will I get out of my fetal position and pull myself off the bathroom floor, fly off to Italy, buy a villa, pull my life together again and write a memoir that Oprah will scoop up so it becomes a best seller?"
Dream a little dream for me .....
So not only is it a gray day for me, it's actually been a very hard week. I seemed to reach down even deeper into the depths of despair and longing for this best friend of mine. "They" say it will get easier. "They" is actually several widowed friends of mine who are almost convincing me that it does soften, that I can continue in this world and find my way, just have to get through all these damn firsts I guess. Hard to believe the seconds will truly be easier.
In addition, I have to go to the dentist this morning. I'm not kidding. And I think I'll have to schedule having one of my four wisdom teeth pulled since one is beginning to really bother me. I do find this a bit humorous and probably could come up with all kinds of analogies. But I'm not going to.
I do know that Jim would have enjoyed the humor in this.
Loving you all back
Mary
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Sweat Lodge
One week from tomorrow on August 30th I will be heading west with an entourage of 5 other women. I have mixed feelings about all this, but mostly excited. If you go to the April 2010 posting and scroll down to the post titled What's Bad is Good you will read about Stanford Addison, an Arapahoe medicine man who lives outside of Lander Wyoming on the Arapahoe reservation. I have contacted Stanford and shall be journeying to do a sweat lodge with him. How this came about is pretty amazing.
If you read the post, What's Bad is Good, you will read about the Eagles that circled Jim and I one morning and how I whispered into Jim's ear to send his prayers up with those Eagles. This is a quote of Stanford's that came out of the book Broken written by Lisa Jones. After this breath-stopping experience with these circling birds I wrote to Jones a few days later. She lives not far from the town in Colorado that Jim's sister, Donna, lives in. Somehow this made Lisa more human and approachable to me since, "hey, I know where you live!" To my surprise she responded to my email that inquired whether Stanford was still alive and gave her a little information on the fact that my husband was living with brain cancer. Her response to me was "Due to your circumstance I'm going to cut the normal rigamarole I give to people who write asking about Stanford. Here's Stan's direct number. I'm going to call him and tell him you'll be calling".
WOW!!!! The next morning she emailed me again and said she had spoken to Stanford and he was expecting my call whenever I was ready. I called him that afternoon asking him if a sweat lodge would be appropriate for Jim. He confirmed that it would be very appropriate and he had run sweats for many cancer victims. We agreed that the end of the summer might be good timing and that we would talk more in a couple months.
After Jim died in May I contacted Stanford in June and told him. I added that I was still interested in heading to Lander and doing a traditional sweat with him. I now believe that perhaps this is what the Eagles saw as being needed .... and that perhaps this sweat lodge is now happening for my own healing and purification.
So, I'm going. I have arranged to do this sweat with Stanford on September 2. Jones has been wonderful in sending me lots of information on how to be a "Helpful Honkie on the Rez" as well as maps to get to the reservation from Lander and other information that assists in making this whole trip a little easier .... because so much of this is just unknown! And I am traveling with 5 other amazing, wonderful women - one of them my 21 year old niece who, I believe, is a gift that Jim left me with when he passed. My niece has not been in my life to any great extent until the hospice experience and then she waltzed in and decided she needed to be a bigger presence in my life now. She is so very right about this. And I invited her to come on this huge adventure with me ... to my delight, she accepted. The other women are some of my dear friends who have been here through thick and thin ... mostly thick.
A little history ... I know that there was a lot of press regarding the sweat lodge gone amok recently where the leader of the sweat didn't allow any of the attendee's to leave the lodge and thus ended up killing many people. This is pure stupidity. This is someone who was conducting a sweat lodge who had no business doing so. Working with Stanford Addison is working with a Native American man who has conducted countless sweat lodges for over 25 years ... all safely!! Through Lisa's web site I read where Stanford was in disbelief that someone would run a sweat and not allow anyone to leave the lodge if they felt a desire to get out of it! I may have nervous feelings about how well I can handle the heat of a sweat lodge but I have NO fear that the expertise of this medicine man who will be running this knows what he's doing and will take good care of all of us involved in his sweat.
One more thing. I'm coming up on another big first .... Jim and my anniversary is this week. This might also explain why my weekend was so hard .... surf was up and the waves hitting me were pretty big ones. I think it's good I have this trip coming up to be focused on.
Loving you all back,
Mary
If you read the post, What's Bad is Good, you will read about the Eagles that circled Jim and I one morning and how I whispered into Jim's ear to send his prayers up with those Eagles. This is a quote of Stanford's that came out of the book Broken written by Lisa Jones. After this breath-stopping experience with these circling birds I wrote to Jones a few days later. She lives not far from the town in Colorado that Jim's sister, Donna, lives in. Somehow this made Lisa more human and approachable to me since, "hey, I know where you live!" To my surprise she responded to my email that inquired whether Stanford was still alive and gave her a little information on the fact that my husband was living with brain cancer. Her response to me was "Due to your circumstance I'm going to cut the normal rigamarole I give to people who write asking about Stanford. Here's Stan's direct number. I'm going to call him and tell him you'll be calling".
WOW!!!! The next morning she emailed me again and said she had spoken to Stanford and he was expecting my call whenever I was ready. I called him that afternoon asking him if a sweat lodge would be appropriate for Jim. He confirmed that it would be very appropriate and he had run sweats for many cancer victims. We agreed that the end of the summer might be good timing and that we would talk more in a couple months.
After Jim died in May I contacted Stanford in June and told him. I added that I was still interested in heading to Lander and doing a traditional sweat with him. I now believe that perhaps this is what the Eagles saw as being needed .... and that perhaps this sweat lodge is now happening for my own healing and purification.
So, I'm going. I have arranged to do this sweat with Stanford on September 2. Jones has been wonderful in sending me lots of information on how to be a "Helpful Honkie on the Rez" as well as maps to get to the reservation from Lander and other information that assists in making this whole trip a little easier .... because so much of this is just unknown! And I am traveling with 5 other amazing, wonderful women - one of them my 21 year old niece who, I believe, is a gift that Jim left me with when he passed. My niece has not been in my life to any great extent until the hospice experience and then she waltzed in and decided she needed to be a bigger presence in my life now. She is so very right about this. And I invited her to come on this huge adventure with me ... to my delight, she accepted. The other women are some of my dear friends who have been here through thick and thin ... mostly thick.
A little history ... I know that there was a lot of press regarding the sweat lodge gone amok recently where the leader of the sweat didn't allow any of the attendee's to leave the lodge and thus ended up killing many people. This is pure stupidity. This is someone who was conducting a sweat lodge who had no business doing so. Working with Stanford Addison is working with a Native American man who has conducted countless sweat lodges for over 25 years ... all safely!! Through Lisa's web site I read where Stanford was in disbelief that someone would run a sweat and not allow anyone to leave the lodge if they felt a desire to get out of it! I may have nervous feelings about how well I can handle the heat of a sweat lodge but I have NO fear that the expertise of this medicine man who will be running this knows what he's doing and will take good care of all of us involved in his sweat.
One more thing. I'm coming up on another big first .... Jim and my anniversary is this week. This might also explain why my weekend was so hard .... surf was up and the waves hitting me were pretty big ones. I think it's good I have this trip coming up to be focused on.
Loving you all back,
Mary
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Wired
It's been four months, which doesn't sound like a long time but feels like an eternity. I'm surprised at how hard this is to accept. How sometimes it feels like this can't be me? This really can't be what has happened to Jim Daniels .... of all people!? I must be caught in someone else's bad dream. It's not possible that this is mine.
A good friend emailed me recently who understands this kind of loss. He said that he read somewhere that the brain actually becomes "wired" to another human being when we are with them for a long period of time .... like 31 years of marriage. And that when we lose that person then the brain has to actually go through a whole new re-wiring to remove this person from our brains programming.
Grief is a biological process.
This makes a lot of sense to me. This explains why Jim could frequently speak the very thoughts I might be having more often then not. And that I could channel what Jim needed to say when he had lost his ability to talk ... amazing him sometimes. We were totally wired to each other. Totally in sync. Totally in love. And I'm totally lost now.
My friend, Hannah, has been telling me that the brain needs to heal from all this trauma and that this takes time and needs lots of rest to accomplish this task. Ah, the process of re-programming my life without Jim in it. Yes, it's going to take a little time and it may explain why I can just run out of steam so fast and only want to lie down and read or close my eyes. It also explains why I get hit with the tsunami of disbelief still. Perhaps these waves must happen to rattle my brain into creating new pathways of thinking. I certainly have to find new pathways of being.
On my birthday my dearest friends were offering to take me out to dinner. I kept telling them, "I'm not into my birthday this year". They didn't listen. They were all at my house when I got home from work; Todd had the grill going, Matthew was at the stove steaming up muscles, chilled white wine was popped and Alice poured me a glass. And we had a wonderful dinner party. They were right, it was nice to celebrate and I appreciated all that they did for me that night! But when they all left I sat at the kitchen table and opened all my cards that had been mailed and a few of the gifts sent and had a complete break down. I use to think my birthday was all about me. I now know it's not. It was about JIM being with me and how he would celebrate me and adored me so much and made me feel so special. No one else can do that like he could. Rewiring .... next year will be a new program.
I went away over the past weekend up to my sister's camp 3 hours away. She and her family gather with their best friends each summer. This summer I was invited and I had a blast. WIth 5 kids ranging from ages 8-14 and all of them so much fun to be with, so open and funny and able to communicate verses shy away from the adults like we have the plague. We swam, mountain biked, fished, played board games until late into the night and laughed a lot. They completely threw my schedule off as I told them "wow, you all have breakfast at lunch time, lunch at cocktail hour and dinner at bed time!" But it was good to throw me out of my routine. Of course, I would have thoughts of Jim and would miss him horribly, but I didn't get hit by any big wave and have to leave the group in order to go dissolve in a heap somewhere. At least not until the drive home when I felt lonely and wished Jim was driving and we could relive the weekend together. But I didn't need to pull over to the side of the road. Progress, I guess.
As I re-wire my thinking and being I can be a little ADD. If I have failed to respond to an invite, an email, or a phone call then send me another one! I meant to get back to you at some point but may have just spaced it out. My brain is rewiring .... and my heart is trying to mend.
Loving you all back,
Mary
A good friend emailed me recently who understands this kind of loss. He said that he read somewhere that the brain actually becomes "wired" to another human being when we are with them for a long period of time .... like 31 years of marriage. And that when we lose that person then the brain has to actually go through a whole new re-wiring to remove this person from our brains programming.
Grief is a biological process.
This makes a lot of sense to me. This explains why Jim could frequently speak the very thoughts I might be having more often then not. And that I could channel what Jim needed to say when he had lost his ability to talk ... amazing him sometimes. We were totally wired to each other. Totally in sync. Totally in love. And I'm totally lost now.
My friend, Hannah, has been telling me that the brain needs to heal from all this trauma and that this takes time and needs lots of rest to accomplish this task. Ah, the process of re-programming my life without Jim in it. Yes, it's going to take a little time and it may explain why I can just run out of steam so fast and only want to lie down and read or close my eyes. It also explains why I get hit with the tsunami of disbelief still. Perhaps these waves must happen to rattle my brain into creating new pathways of thinking. I certainly have to find new pathways of being.
On my birthday my dearest friends were offering to take me out to dinner. I kept telling them, "I'm not into my birthday this year". They didn't listen. They were all at my house when I got home from work; Todd had the grill going, Matthew was at the stove steaming up muscles, chilled white wine was popped and Alice poured me a glass. And we had a wonderful dinner party. They were right, it was nice to celebrate and I appreciated all that they did for me that night! But when they all left I sat at the kitchen table and opened all my cards that had been mailed and a few of the gifts sent and had a complete break down. I use to think my birthday was all about me. I now know it's not. It was about JIM being with me and how he would celebrate me and adored me so much and made me feel so special. No one else can do that like he could. Rewiring .... next year will be a new program.
I went away over the past weekend up to my sister's camp 3 hours away. She and her family gather with their best friends each summer. This summer I was invited and I had a blast. WIth 5 kids ranging from ages 8-14 and all of them so much fun to be with, so open and funny and able to communicate verses shy away from the adults like we have the plague. We swam, mountain biked, fished, played board games until late into the night and laughed a lot. They completely threw my schedule off as I told them "wow, you all have breakfast at lunch time, lunch at cocktail hour and dinner at bed time!" But it was good to throw me out of my routine. Of course, I would have thoughts of Jim and would miss him horribly, but I didn't get hit by any big wave and have to leave the group in order to go dissolve in a heap somewhere. At least not until the drive home when I felt lonely and wished Jim was driving and we could relive the weekend together. But I didn't need to pull over to the side of the road. Progress, I guess.
As I re-wire my thinking and being I can be a little ADD. If I have failed to respond to an invite, an email, or a phone call then send me another one! I meant to get back to you at some point but may have just spaced it out. My brain is rewiring .... and my heart is trying to mend.
Loving you all back,
Mary
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
August 4
Today is my birthday, and I'm really not into it. My older sisters have told me "if you decide not to get any older then it means we don't either". Hmmm .... fair enough!
Don't get me wrong, I use to love my birthday. Jim would always make my birthday something to honor ... but then, we really enjoyed celebrating each other and what better day to do this then on a birthday? Last year Jim was pretty compromised. I chose not to remind him that it was my birthday and actually forgot about the day until a friend showed up with blueberries and a card for me. But Jim didn't forget ... he remembered far more then I ever could have imagined and thus made my birthday last year perhaps the most memorable one of them all.
And, believe it or not, this is not about MY birthday. It's about the birthday of a sweet little girl named Skyla Mae Walker, who was born yesterday, on August 3, 2010 ... and I was there. She is my grand-niece. I am one honored and proud auntie of her mum, Jennywren, who invited me long ago to be part of her very small birthing circle. She asked that I perform acupuncture for her as she was going o'natural and already knew and had experienced the wonderful endorphin high of acupuncture. First off, mum in the birthing pool does not make for great acupuncture access! So I say I did a teeny tiny bit of the Chinese medicine for her .... and she was just incredibly phenomenal and amazing.
This experience of being an active observant of this fundamental, but amazing, process has stirred up all kinds of emotions in me. It has not slipped my awareness that only 4 months ago in May I was intimately involved in the Hospice experience and orchestrating the atmosphere of my husbands death only to now be intimately involved in - though not controlling or orchestrating in any way - a birth. This circle of life is encircling me.
At 4:50 AM little Skya came projecting out ... and I say the midwife had to catch Skyla "on the fly" as this baby went from a bit of a crown to a WHOOSH and a SPLASH and she was in the arms of her midwife! ... but in this incredibly quick "whoosh" Skyla emerging from the water in the pool is now forever held in slow motion for me. In that moment she looked directly at me and the look on this infants face was so astonished, so wide-eyed and simply saying "WOW! WHAT THE HEY?!" before she was put into her mothers awaiting arms. Yes, I was in tears ... of joy this time. Of joy.
So, birth and death. From death springs life. All those cliches. I wish Jim was here to see this newest addition to the family. He loved children and kids flocked to him as he was the kind of adult who loved to play. He could make the most mundane become something fun and exciting. Even a 50-something birthday.
Welcome to this world Skyla Mae.
Loving you all back,
Mary
Don't get me wrong, I use to love my birthday. Jim would always make my birthday something to honor ... but then, we really enjoyed celebrating each other and what better day to do this then on a birthday? Last year Jim was pretty compromised. I chose not to remind him that it was my birthday and actually forgot about the day until a friend showed up with blueberries and a card for me. But Jim didn't forget ... he remembered far more then I ever could have imagined and thus made my birthday last year perhaps the most memorable one of them all.
And, believe it or not, this is not about MY birthday. It's about the birthday of a sweet little girl named Skyla Mae Walker, who was born yesterday, on August 3, 2010 ... and I was there. She is my grand-niece. I am one honored and proud auntie of her mum, Jennywren, who invited me long ago to be part of her very small birthing circle. She asked that I perform acupuncture for her as she was going o'natural and already knew and had experienced the wonderful endorphin high of acupuncture. First off, mum in the birthing pool does not make for great acupuncture access! So I say I did a teeny tiny bit of the Chinese medicine for her .... and she was just incredibly phenomenal and amazing.
This experience of being an active observant of this fundamental, but amazing, process has stirred up all kinds of emotions in me. It has not slipped my awareness that only 4 months ago in May I was intimately involved in the Hospice experience and orchestrating the atmosphere of my husbands death only to now be intimately involved in - though not controlling or orchestrating in any way - a birth. This circle of life is encircling me.
At 4:50 AM little Skya came projecting out ... and I say the midwife had to catch Skyla "on the fly" as this baby went from a bit of a crown to a WHOOSH and a SPLASH and she was in the arms of her midwife! ... but in this incredibly quick "whoosh" Skyla emerging from the water in the pool is now forever held in slow motion for me. In that moment she looked directly at me and the look on this infants face was so astonished, so wide-eyed and simply saying "WOW! WHAT THE HEY?!" before she was put into her mothers awaiting arms. Yes, I was in tears ... of joy this time. Of joy.
So, birth and death. From death springs life. All those cliches. I wish Jim was here to see this newest addition to the family. He loved children and kids flocked to him as he was the kind of adult who loved to play. He could make the most mundane become something fun and exciting. Even a 50-something birthday.
Welcome to this world Skyla Mae.
Loving you all back,
Mary
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