Anyway, I think there must be something the matter with me. If I am smart, persistent, dedicated to a goal, I should be able to reach it right? I seem to be able to do this with every other goal, why not with money? So, that was the point of my ritual. To release all my money shit and finally be able to move on.

I wrote my lists, cut them up into individual items and put them into 2 bags. I planned on doing this right before sunrise on my favorite bike path which runs next to Clear Creek. The irony of this never escapes me! Ungodly amounts of my tears and anguish have poured into this creek and I still have no clarity.

As I approached the bridge where I was going to do the ritual, I pondered which side to stand on. Reason for this is that 2 years ago I stood on this same bridge with my husband. I always went to the side that looked upstream. He always went to the side that viewed downstream. One day he asked me why I always chose that side. I said, so I can see what is coming and be prepared for it. He joined me on my side momentarily and said, “look, you always have to work twice as hard swimming upstream because you are fighting the current… it will always be harder this way.” Then he hugged me and took me to his side of the bridge, pointing me downstream. “If you swim with your current, you are letting the energy of the river carry you down the same path and you don’t have to even work at all. You just have to direct yourself to keep from hitting rocks. If you go with your current you will move faster, quicker and easier,” he said. All I could think of was, “yeah, but, I can’t see what’s coming now.” At any rate, from that moment on, I always looked downstream and figured I would know what was coming when it hit me.

I chose the upstream side. I squared off in front of the moving water and stated my objective in a loud clear voice. Then I begin to let in all the emotions related to that objective, remembering each hurt, each incident to as far back as I could remember. Starting with yesterdays rotten moment to as far back as I could remember, I just let the memories flood into me. More of my tears dropped into Clear Creek.

Finally I could stop crying and marveled at how the first lights of daylight were bouncing off the moving water. I watched mesmerized as the light played off the water, constantly moving, a layer of glistening sequins on a sheet of glass. As I stared at it, it started to separate. The water on top that encountered rocks and tree limbs separated into layers, molding to the shape of the obstacle, clearing it and then scurrying off down the riverbed. But, underneath, I could see the inexorable, steady, constant onward flowing of the main mass of the creek. It moved like the steady beat of my heart, constant, strong, moving without my conscious thought. I realized then that I was watching the current – underneath all that scurrying motion, there it was!

It lay before me, stretching far back into time ahead of me, and uncoiling forever into the future behind me. Steady, strong, powerful, it is just there, flowing forever in both directions. I allowed my eyes to find different points on that line, always to realize that it was still there, still the same, still steady, still moving in its determined course of action. And the only words I could think of to describe it was, “I am”. I am. Not I am if, or I am when, just I am. Not I have value if, or I deserve when I do, or I am right when or wrong when, or I am bad if, or good if, or I am ugly, or I am pretty, or I am fat or I am skinny, or I am rich, or I am poor, just … I am.

So, into that calm steady existence, I released the emotions that I came to release. I read off each word, dropping the statements quietly into that steady, flowing current, knowing that they would be sucked up and swept away beneath me – gone forever.

Then I moved to the downstream side. I was a little scared. What if changing perspective made the current disappear? Then what! I looked straight down into the water, and it took my breath away! There it was, stronger, more stable than ever, I could feel its power sinking into my bones. I watched it flow for a long time. Finally, I allowed my eyes to travel with it, and as they did they came up from the surface and got caught up once again in the glitter of light and movement. My eyes wanted to follow every sequin, every frothy tendril, get caught up in the excitement, not knowing which way to go. One eye wanted to follow that bubble over there, the other eye wanted to pursue that bead of light.

I pulled my vision back together staring straight down into that deep, steady current and said out loud – I am. And then it all made sense. Never do I get the answer that I think I want, always the one I need.

I read from the slips of paper that I had filled out earlier. They no longer had relevance, but, I read them anyway. Matter of fact, as I said each word, my eyes kept going back to that deep current. I get it. I need to stay focused on my own truth and not get sidetracked by the shiny, glittering sequins I will find along the way. And if I do get sidetracked, I just need to remember… I am. Not conditional, I just am. Onward and upward!

It’s a work day for me, so I went early to the gym to get in my cardio workout. I forgot that it is a holiday for most, so none of my early morning comrades are here. So, I start my vigorous Monday workout. And I am thinking, why do the machines – I have a huge empty dance floor in front of me.

So I cranked up the tunes and danced my heart out. WOWWOWOWOWOW! I can’t begin to describe the way I feel right now. Exuberant? I am filled with so many happy bubbles I am apt to float out of here if I am not careful. And all my creative juices are flowing. I am thinking it will be a fantastic day!

Dina, it is so good to hear from you – don’t you just love rss feeds? All the info you requested on the class is at the meetup. Sign up, rsvp and get on over here! This coming Sunday is going to be very festive as we are having an insanity workout and barbeque before the belly dancing class. If you come early, you will get to meet a lot of this gym family and they are wonderful. And no one will make anyone do the insanity workout unless you want to!

On to my wonderful day!

I think I will stop by a little more frequently – got a lot of fearless feminism to share. Also, I have been working on that supreme health thing and am really stoked about that.

I found a new gym. I love this place – the owner, the other trainers, the people. They are all there to figure out how to take care of the bodies we are blessed with – exercise and nutrition.

First gym I have been to where one of the first class instruction is on what and when and how much to eat. And the workouts are fantastic.

Course, I am really prejudiced in many ways, because I followed my long time friend and personal trainer Mark Mueller there in the first place. He is still working his magic on those who want personalized care – umm, yes that would be me, of course!

I have finally decided to pay serious attention to his help and instruction on nutrition. I keep a food log, I do what he tells me to do, and then I work out the way he tells me to. So far it is paying off: in 27 days I lost 2 inches overall and 8 1/2 pounds. Who would think it? I can just see the incredulity of people when they ask me in December how I reached my fitness goals. How did you lose all the weight? I ate food.

Hah! Its a bit more than that. I quit drinking alcohol completely. I started sleeping at least 6 hrs a night and I eat the right things when I do eat. I am betting that a lot of other great things will come from these lifestyle changes than weightloss.

On to the fearless feminism. I got permission from the gym owner to teach a belly dance class. So every Sunday afternoon, I am now there to teach belly dancing!

I am so relieved! Why can’t I remember that for me happiness includes this dance? It is not in the bling, or the performing that it gives me joy. It is not in the politics or the drama that I get happiness. It is in the all out release – the total escape of that wildness inside of me. It is in the sharing of this release that fulfills me.

So, if this is something you are looking for, then join me. I have requested that other women entrepreneurs and business owners join me, because I know that this is a great pressure release valve for them. No matter what you do, you may still join us, just be prepared for releasing stress and the laughing and joy that comes with it.

If you want to be on a performance track, if you think your skills are too advanced for this, or if you worry about the differences between cabaret, folkloric or tribal, I can send you on to many other more qualified instructors and classes.

Otherwise, I will see you there.

Onward and upward!

It’s totally amazing to be doing that meditation again. Wow, it is truly coming home. I see why the garden comment made such a dent in my psyche now. It reminded me of this meditation and how good it made me feel, how it centered me, righted the world. Now, maybe with the things I learn from it, I can move forward. I need to move forward because I have so so so much to do… tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock.

I read through a lot of the posts on this blog the other day. I have used this blog as a whipping post for when I feel sad, mad and tired. What a bummer. So, I decided yesterday to clean it up, remove the bizarre, keep the fun and move forward.

I am not a practicing belly dancer anymore, but, I do love their contribution to the world. So, if they want to come hang out, fine, if not, I will lend them my support from a distance.

I don’t have any keywords to define my place in cyber space for this blog. I don’t want this one to be about just one thing. Yesterday it was about my garden, today it is about my meditation, tomorrow… who knows. I guess it is going to be a running public journal.

Of course the thing that separates it from just a journal is that I want to invite people in to share, hope that what I have to say is worth sharing. If so, great, if not, I will have a place to put all those stray thoughts that bounce around in my head.

I am preparing to spend the next 4 days transferring my old business website to a new one – big time work, so , I might not make it back to this one for awhile. Until then, if anybody is listening, happy holidays!

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I am no longer a professional belly dancer, matter of fact, it has gone from casual dancing to just dancing in my mind. And still I am reluctant to part with the name or the blog.

I recently took up my particular form of meditation again. As I settled into the music and the movement, I began to realize why. I used to go to the gym, crank up the tunes on my headset and wear myself out on the elliptical. I would visualize a meditation that is actually described in another post on this blog. It connected me to the earth, to my femininity and to my spiritual self. Most days I chose ACDC or Ozzie Osborne as my music, because of the drums and because of the melody. Hard driving, pulsating tones that penetrated all the stuff of the moment.

Today I chose Lorenna McKennitt and it was like coming back to myself. As her music rolls over my tired and battered psyche, I realize so so so much. Notice, I say everything in past tense. It is like part of me is stuck in a certain place and I can’t move forward. I can’t move forward because I have not released all of the things that keep pulling me back.

I didn’t even realize that I hadn’t let them go until deep into my meditation. Mark mentioned my garden yesterday and that was like the little crack that split wide open. As I went through my meditation ritual, the garden came into my mind. I allowed my mind to touch each memory, I allowed my minds eye to hear each blessed leaf, smell each fragrance, taste each berry, and to see…. to see that which I helped the Goddess create.

I used to think of it as my own personal 3d living painting. I started it with fruit trees and bushes, grape vines so that they could mature in their own time, while the rest of the garden joined them. Then I had to start putting in the herbs. I rejoiced in these creatures. Every single leaf held a true sound, a story. When I was by myself I would go by each one, sit next to it, feel its vibration, absorb its magic. I would gently rub a leaf, breathing in its fragrance, rejoicing in its unique life.

I grouped everything according to kindred spirits, above and below ground. Initially I made the attempt to create a vignette, but, most of the time, by summer it was overgrown chaos and that was ok. I added vegetables, experimenting with the palettes of my young children Kate and Charlie and husband Chuck.

And there were many glorious moments. The first was in January, when I would pour over seed catalogs, when I would bury myself in my herb books. I could spend hours lost in the creation of the new summer painting. I made list after list, every weekend culling it down to one that made sense for me and my time.

The next was the day I finally got to start planting seeds in my makeshift greenhouse. I always started on St. Patricks Day, planting a different group each weekend. I actually enjoyed the symmetry of that. I heard a story once that St. Paddy was the one that drove the snakes from Ireland. I always imagined the “snakes” were actually the matriarchal society and pagans. So, as I planted each seed, I would say a prayer to the female energy, said a prayer to the Goddess. As I placed each seed into the soil, I would breathe in the mystery of life.

I prepared the soil in between, digging, hoeing, raking, weeding, composting. I can remember thinking that I probably enjoyed soil preparation more than planting. I remember that when I started it was hard, baked, clay. I would add new compost every year. It was with great joy that I would return the next spring, turning my first shovel to see it teeming with earthworms.

I planted on memorial day. All three days. Back breaking, filthy, sweaty, sunburnt, sun up to sun down, totally satisfying. I would stand back and marvel at the neat little rows of beautiful green seedlings. I always had a special meditation that I did in the early morning hours of that weekend, when no one else was up to see me. I would put on my fanny pack with cd player, music turned up full blast. And I would dance barefoot down every walkway, spinning joyous circles around the perimeter. I would welcome the sun with outstretched arms, weeping in joy, praying in silence, my heart full with the wonder of such exuberant life.

Then, there was that magical evening at the end of July when everything was at its peek. An explosion of color, sound(yes, sound – so much life must release sound, you just have to listen for it), sight, smell. I would sit down in the middle somewhere, so that I could see it at plant level. And I would just breathe it all in, the most completely happy moment of all.

The harvest was always slightly melancholy for me. It did not hold the fascination and appeal that the planting did. It was because it was over. I piled up the garden refuse into the compost pile with a sad heart. Actually, in the beginning it was more than a sad heart. I actually became depressed from it. That is when I began to allow myself the ritual of garden planning for January. Even now, 5 yrs removed, I start websurfing for catalogs about now. Old habits die hard.

So, today, for the first time, I allowed myself to remember, to mentally caress each memory. I allowed myself to mourn. Maybe tomorrow I will release it. Because Mark has said that I can use his back yard this spring to plant a new garden. I have to go find new catalogs!

Oh, why am I keeping this blog? Because I have to have to have a place to be right brained, creative, spiritual and FEMALE. In my crazy mixed up brain, I think of this day – the winter solstice – as the extreme celebration of the male energies. So, it seems fitting to reclaim my femininity on this day. Onward and upward.

There is a point on this trail that calls to me always.  And when I approach it, I feel like I am walking on hallowed ground.  Always, always, when I get to this place on the trail, I have to stop, turn slowly and breathe it into my soul.  Every time this stand of trees wears a different outfit.  Today,  the tree trunks stand in bare, dark silence.  Sunlight flows through the canopy of barren branches.  No longer covered with a profusion of multi-colored leaves, mysterious recesses are now exposed.

And yet, it still calls to me, pulls me to it.  And as my eyes explore each and every tree trunk, each and every shadowed place, I feel a sense of peace and serenity.  Each breath I take draws it into me, soothing irritated nerve endings and calming jangled emotions.

Emotions that have run the gamut this year.  The loss of my father seemed to set into motion an upheaval that I have never before experienced.  Solid ground and rock hard absolutes turned into quick sand under my feet.  Nothing was as it ever has been and I suspect never will be again.

Some days I am ok with that.  Other days I have felt like I awoke from a deep sleep in another dimension.  Things look the same as my old life, but, inside they have changed forever.

Like today.  It is Thanksgiving, 2009.  I have spent the day alone for the first time in my life.  I wanted to feel sorry for myself, because I think I should be sad.  But, I couldn’t be, really.  I tried.  For many different reasons I stayed behind as my husband and 2 children went to a family reunion.  I wish them well, and know that a better time will be had without me there.  For other reasons I did not attend my own family gathering.

I am starving for silence and solitude.  It won’t last but a day, but, that is enough.  I just needed to recharge my emotional batteries in peace and quiet.  In that time, I have regained my center and balance.

Soaking up the sanctity of the hallowed ground, I turn slowly, head tilted upwards, soaking it all in as deep and as much as I can take.  I fill every sense to overflowing.  Giving the deepest, heartfelt thank you that I can give, I turn silently and head home.

It is ok once again.  Onward and upward.

@BarkingUnicorn:
For five years after I left college, my mother mailed me help-wanted clippings she felt would be good for me with a note, “David, when are you going to get a real job?” Always, I replied,
“When a real job makes me real happy, Mom.”
There is nothing wrong with being thought “daft” in an insane society.
August 17th, 2009 at 1:54 pm

Fortunately, my father was a diehard entrepreneur as are 3 of my 6 siblings. My mom held the fort down with her job, but supported him a hundred percent(unintentional play on words there – she did support him financially in the skinny times, but supported him emotionally each day of the week). So, I didn’t have that going on. But, I do have well meaning friends that just don’t get it, nor will they ever. Good thing it takes all kinds.

Over the last 5 years I have moved into position to be a guiding light for entrepreneurs… it is my absolute passion. I am involved in several local/national/international groups now that provide a variety of services to these hearty souls. And I love it… absolutely love it. I love the stories, I love the flash of a smile after one has survived a hardship. I love fitting the puzzle pieces together to help someone finish creating their dreams. I love to see a dream scribbled on a napkin become a nasdaq listing.

So, @BarkingUnicorn, I created the real job that makes me real happy! Now, if I can just find the time to dance, workout, do karate and all the other things I do for fun…. I would be in heaven on earth.

Until then, onward and upward!

The rain let up and I was able to get in my meditation walk late afternoon. The storm cloud moved quickly, the rain barely wetting the soil. It was just enough rain to create the pungent, earthy scent in your nose. As I swung out onto the trail, facing east, I watched the cloud push ahead of me. The sky was this totally, totally dark blue. In the middle of my view was this amazing cloud. A gigantic roiling balloon, the top looked like a fistful of cottonballs, puffy, soft looking, glowing. Lavendar shades give way to purple underlinings. The bottom edges of the cloud smudge into a mirky blue as the falling rain creates a white fan to the ground.

I watched it push ever forward as the trail turned my vision elsewhere. As I moved away I thought about how in Colorado at least, one minute it can be burning hot, the next it can be cool and rainy and the next it can be crisply new and brisk. I love our weather.

My thought then meandered to business, my favorite topic. I thought about how it is with most entrepreneurs, the incredible torture of it all sometimes. Family members look at you like you are a bit daft and ask you why you just don’t go get a job. And you can’t answer intelligently, because you know that in an hour, a day, a week or a month, it can change and you can be on top of the game.

I shrug and smile, totally understanding the burning passion that controls an entrepreneur. By now I have settled into the hard driving pace of my walk. It feels so great to move, to feel the clean brisk air enter and exit my lungs, to feel the power in my legs and the electric energy as it travels down my swinging arms.

As my arms swing through the air, as the cd player moves into one of my favorite belly dance songs, my thoughts drift to belly dancing, my next favorite subject. Being a dance entrepreneur is even tougher in some respects than other businesses. It is the eternal struggle between right and left brain. Some days it was excruciating to have to switch those hats, or should I say belts. I have total complete respect for those belly dancers that have successfully managed these two sides of their brains.

I look up from my meditations and realize that I have almost completed the loop back to my house. Good thing too, because a new cloud bank has moved in, very swiftly. No blue sky, no white cotton candy puffballs, but slate gray heavy masses covering the sky. As I move into the homestretch, the clouds sporadically release water drops. Lightning travels horizontally through the gray mass. I reach for the gate just as a streak of lightning shoots from sky to ground. I scurry up onto the porch as the first pelting waves of rain slam into the ground.

Ah well, a little of this and a little of that. Balance. Onward and upward.

My intention was not to discard who I was… to dismiss my past, to include my history, what made me who I am.  But, as I have also stated many times, I wanted to become who I was before I became who I am.  And that meant that I had to go back to the beginning, or as my mom says often, “go back to your roots.”

Easier said than done.  After making that declaration, I formed a new business in a new career.  We downsized from the family farm, I lost my beloved father, my son turned 18, dropped out of high school 4 months before graduation and left home, my daughter turned 21 and moved back in, we moved 2 more times. 

On the last move, the house wasn’t ready when we were and we were homeless for 2 weeks.  On the day we moved in, we joyfully entered the property to find in 6 inches under water.  The main had broken 5′ from our front door.  So we were homeless for another week.  Trust me, when I come home, it is with joy and gratitude in my heart as I lovingly touch my four walls. 

So, trying to do anything but survive was near impossible. But, I kept plugging away, refusing to give up or give in.  Actually, several awesome opportunities presented themselves in the middle of the chaos and gave me the inner strength to keep fighting on.

Spring was rough, rougher than fall.  I forgot all about anything else other than just getting through the day.   My resolve and stamina weakened.  I was really at the end of both, just about ready to toss it all.  I have no idea for what, but, I was ready. 

And then little miracles began to happen.  And then they piled on, and it was breathless.  In heartbeats everything changed.  Everything.

I shared a few of the miracles onstage at a business meeting.  Nothing remarkable or worth writing home about, but, my little pile of miracles that made such a huge difference.  I have my spirit and my breath back, ready to keep fighting the good fight.

The next day, my friend and mentor called to chat.  She remarked that my transformation was extraordinary to witness.  She detailed out each item and then exclaimed, “You are a butterfly!”

Onward and upward.