A few words about Injuries...

The other day I was working and strained my back just a little. Not a lot, but it was noticeable. I wasn't scheduled to work for a few days and being proactive in my health, I did a little yoga to stretch my muscles. The next morning I got out of bed, or tried to, and was nearly immobilized by the muscles that had been strained. I was bent over; each time I attempted to stand straight I was gripped by a spasm. I managed to get on to the floor and gently stretch to get movement back into my body but while I was down there I took the opportunity to do a little self reflection. I've always been healthy, and for that I am on my knees (or flat on my back on that day) in gratitude. No major issues other than seasonal allergies and now I was being sidelined by a yoga injury. How lame is that? I managed to get up and standing nearly straight, I got out my Ben Gay (the fact that I actually had it in my medicine cabinet is scary) and smeared it on my back and it was pretty soothing. Then I realized, not only was I bent over, I smelled like a bag of old granddaddies. Yikes.

So, if I practice what I preach and live a life of abundant gratitude, I am grateful for so many things. OK, so not so much for the yoga injury, but grateful that it wasn't caused by reaching for the remote. I live a pretty active life in which exercise is an important part. The older I am the more important it becomes. I hear people my age referring to themselves as being old and I want to shake them and tell them these are the best years of our lives. I am not old, I am growing older. And these are the best years of my life. I'm wiser, I'm content, I'm not fighting for space on the planet because I already own the space I occupy. I am rich with life experience. I stretch and I grow and I willingly engage in life. I have a sense of humor that allows me to move through life with a light heart. I have a delicious dark side which I embrace as being part of who I am.

You have to face the fact that life is full of injuries. Physical, spiritual, and emotional. I think the trick is what you do about them, and how proactively you participate in the healing that matters. I didn't choose to lie on the heating pad for a few days until my back healed itself. I stretched, I massaged and worked through the pain of the spasm. As I am moving through these changes in my life and dealing with the emotional injuries, I'm doing my homework, asking questions of myself, doing research to find the best thing that works for me. I am unique and I am forging the trail of my own life, whatever that brings. It is an adventurous time to be me. The Universe continues to shower me with healing gifts, large and small and my palms are open.

So what is next? I'm not sure but I do have some ideas. I am entertained by myself right now, embracing the dance I am doing with my fears and my desires. It is a challenging time in my life and I am loving watching it unfold. Full of uncertainties and questions and I am completely confident in my ability to sort it all out and move through with grace. While I find myself tentative to run in the direction of a desire, I am intrigued with the opportunity to explore my fears. Wow. What a ride. Injuries heal. Heartaches mend. Life marches on and the scars fade. All in all, life is what you make it, but that is nothing new. I only wish I would have said it first! So the message for today is I love my body more than the injuries that might sideline me. Physical or emotional. They are only temporary and will disappear with time. I will continue to be grateful for what I have, creating the most abundant life I could ever imagine.

XO,
Karen

A few words about family...

As the holidays are upon us, it is always interesting to see how people feel about their families. Who doesn't want to spend time with Crazy Aunt Mary, who wouldn't be caught dead sitting at the kid's table, who decides at the last minute he wants to be vegetarian, and the horrible, white viscous matter that contains green beans and those fried onion things. I have usually worked on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, believing that those with little kids should have first crack at having the holiday off. Besides, I've worked so many holidays that I learned a long time ago that it really isn't the holiday date that matters, it is the time spent with family. I smile at those days when my sister and I, as adults, would fly in during the holiday season and giggle as we crept up the stairs to see if Santa had magically filled our stockings.

During the process of growing older, and the death of my father so many years ago, traditions fell by the wayside. Things weren't the same and the expansion and contraction of the family unit brought along an entire set of different priorities. Divorces, deaths, and new family members being added changed the face of our holiday traditions. Maybe I would have my children come to visit me in Chicago and I enjoyed that tremendously. Perhaps I would fly back to Denver sometime in December for a haphazard celebration, depending on when others could gather at my parent's house. I always liked having the Christmas celebration after Christmas because I could shop the after holiday sales.

So now that my family has experienced a major contraction, this holiday will be different. The absence of my mother will be felt more acutely at this time, but the importance of banding together feels more necessary than ever. Maybe some don't want to be with others, but I think the most meaningful thing that has come through this time is the profound gratitude that my siblings and I have put any discord aside and stepped back into being a family. I don't expect we will ever be the Cleavers, but it is nice to feel the sense of family again in my life.

For me, I have found that centering my life around gratitude has been so helpful. I am through the worst part of my grief and am able to see the lessons I have learned about myself. I am grateful for my sweet little Mama and all she brought to my life. I am grateful for my daughter who is such a great mom and brings a different flavor to the family. My son, with his quiet calm yet wicked sense of humor adds another dimension. My granddaughter...what can I say about this beautiful, tall, smart young woman that will always be my bundle of joy and the love of my life. My siblings, nieces and nephews are the best and continue their journeys in life with their own particular style. When we gather the room is filled with music and singing because that is just what we do. Music is the gift my mother gave to all of us.

I know that my mother smiles down on her family coming together. What we couldn't do for her in her life because of our own selfish stubbornness, we have managed to do in her death, and for that I am on my knees with gratitude. The hope I hold during this time is that perhaps we have moved past our dramas and can come together for the holidays. That would bring my mother tremendous joy as she watches from afar.

So the message for today is I love my body more than viewing my family as one dimensional. I am embracing the differences in my family and moving forward forging new paths and traditions. I have put the drama away and now choose to live in the light of gratitude and joy.

Happy Holidays!
XO,
Karen

A few words about grapes...

I was recently in California and visited several vineyards. It was awesome and I had the good fortune of being given a private tour of a lovely winery. As the tour guide was explaining everything that goes into that amazing glass of wine we tasted at the end of the tour it made me stop and think about all kinds of things...like I'm a work in progress just like the grapes. It takes years to grow the perfect grapes to be able to produce the first harvest of delicious wine. You have to balance the soil with plants that will enhance the grapes, post the trellises north to south or east to west, shade the fruit from the intense sun by letting the leaves grow or trimming them up to ripen more quickly. It is the same thing when you are balancing your life.

Keeping things in balance is sometimes like being in a carnival with plates on sticks or juggling and throwing batons, or learning to stand on someone else's shoulders when you need to. I have worked through my life on things that would develop me emotionally, having the courage to look at my life fearlessly in the eye moving through challenging times as gracefully as possible, planting seeds to create the perfect balance in the soil of my life. As I am moving through this process of discovering the possibilities that lie in my future without my mother in it, I realize that I have been like the grapes. Each seed planted, each sheltered emotion wanting to burst through the ground, each side of me that I have shaded from the light, each darkness that dawns with new light and understanding stands for the million facets that make me, me.

I stand profoundly grateful for the soil, seeds, storms, sunshine, and challenging conditions that have presented themselves to me during my lifetime. I have no doubt I'm moving through the loss of my mother with grace and dignity and profound growth. I'm not sure when I'll be finished, probably never because I think when you stop growing you stop living, but in the meantime I am setting the table, polishing the wine glasses and preparing for the harvest of a lifetime. You have to believe with every fiber of your being that you have created the perfect blend for an amazing life, overflowing with light and love. Sometimes you just have to bet on the grapes being a flavorful combination that is aged well, balanced, luscious, full bodied, bold and elegant with nice legs. Just like me! So the message for today is I love my body more than challenging times. They only serve to make me dig really deep for the richness that lies within me.

Cheers!

XO,
Karen

A few words about Change....

I love when the seasons start to change and the dark comes earlier and stays later. It is a comforting time to know the world is revolving on schedule and life is continuing on. I work long hours and on days that I'm working I find when I come home I'm tired and just want to relax. My day has been full and meditation isn't on my schedule when I get home. I decided a few years ago that I didn't have enough me time on work days so I started getting up earlier. I spend that extra hour catching up on email, enjoying my coffee, and generally starting my day in a relaxed place instead of a flurry to get out of the door. Now, I get up early every day and find that I can have time before the world starts stirring and the noises on the street below begin to fill my ears. It is a time of peace and reflection and I have come to really enjoy it. I love watching the sun start reflecting the new day on the windows of the buildings downtown with a breathtaking pink glow.

As the seasons are changing, so is my life. I am beginning to look at it differently. It is a world filled with options and choices and new beginnings. People are coming back into my life while others are leaving. Some have remained constant, as always. New friendships are developing and I feel like I'm coming out of hibernation. I'm in a space of reorganization in my life, reprioritizing, and self reflection. I started seeing a therapist and have been doing some pretty intense purging of stuff cluttering up my head. Lots of digging through junk, deciding what to keep, what to throw away, what to store and look at later. Change is sometimes difficult, but there are still choices and lessons. Embracing change through this time has been challenging, however, with each sunrise, the possibilities of my life are multiplying and acceptance of the changes is becoming less challenging. And for that I'm grateful. My own journey of change will continue just as the changing of the seasons will continue to arrive on schedule. So, today, I'll embrace change. I'll prepare for the change of seasons, look through my closet and pull out the warm clothing. It is a beautiful time of year, and a beautiful time of life.

So, the lesson for today is I love my body more than my resistance to change; surrendering to the possibilities of the life that lies before me.

Have a glorious day,
XO,
Karen

A few words about baggage...

I am finding as I am moving through this reorganization of my life, baggage that I thought was carefully and thoughtfully stowed is popping up again. Kind of like the scene in Poltergeist when bodies start popping up through the ground. At least I think it was Poltergeist...

Anyway, the thought is that as much emotional work as you do, as much as you employ a new set of coping tools, the baggage is never completely gone. You just learn to deal with it. There have been circumstances in my life lately that have sent me unpacking again. Right there with my gorgeous, beautiful luggage. I have drug it out from the storage unit and opened it up to look at the contents. The act of actually doing this is unconscious, and that is what is the most interesting thing. As a healthy, well adjusted adult, I know this is not a great neighborhood to be wandering alone. As a wounded woman who is grieving the loss of her mother, and is incredibly vulnerable right now, it is what I would consider to be impossible not to go right back to that place of childhood wounds that complicate my grief. Interesting.

If you have a child with special needs, aren't those special needs going to be part of his life forever? Won't, when the most stressful situation presents itself at some point in his adult life, those special needs come back to visit? Even though the child who has walked through this, learned new coping skills and by all rights "moved on" wouldn't you expect that under duress it would be natural to revert back to old habits and thought patterns? Would you condemn that grown child for reverting back to an old thought pattern or behavior? I believe that stress produces the best and the worst in people. I also believe that my baggage has come back to visit, but it isn't going to stay. It will leave again, and I will be stronger for the visit.

I also believe that death and the ensuing grief really separates the wheat from the chaff. There are those that will fearlessly stand with you, not judging your actions or declaring your emotions irrational. There are those that send a message via Facebook, or a text message quickly pecked out on the cell phone. Then there are those that completely avoid you for fear you will start crying or something else that makes them uncomfortable. There is no judgment on my part, just an interest that everyone deals with death in their own way. There are those that you thought were friends that you realize just can't handle great big emotion. Those all move into the acquaintance category. And there are those that completely blow you away with how they step up and somehow when the dust clears from another emotional storm, they are still standing right beside you. Unwavering. Wow. And there are the times when you realize you are completely alone. And that is OK, too.

I have learned through this process that I don't take anything personally because each person stands in grief in his own shoes. Each has a level of comfort that belongs only to him. I have also come to the conclusion that even though someone says they would do anything for you, when push comes to shove, they go diving for cover and it is every man for himself. Some things are just too big and vast and incomprehensible for someone else to understand. And that is just the way life is. And I'm completely good with that. You have to stand for yourself first.

My baggage is mine, and it is what makes me, me. In all my perfect or imperfect perfection. It is mine, and the understanding of why, or how it became, or how long until it will be released is mine to determine. So, the message for today is that I love my body more than those that stand in judgment of my behavior, thoughts, or my precious, beautiful baggage that has accompanied me on my life journey. It will go back into storage, a little lighter for the inspection, when I'm ready.

XO,
Karen

A Few Words about Normal...

Recently, I have had this overwhelming urge to bake a pie. I'm not sure why because pie seems like a cool weather thing and the weather in Denver has been utterly spectacular and unseasonably warm. Warm days with a crisp feeling in the air and cool nights, perfect for sleeping under a comforter. I have my windows open and the breeze is blowing through, I can hear the lawn mowers in full power outside, the water in the pool is still shimmering because even though it is the end of September, the management of my condo association has decided to keep it open just a little longer this year. The trees are still green, people are still wearing shorts, and it just seems to be out of sequence. It seems like summer is having a little trouble letting go but, it actually feels a little comforting. I'm grateful for the evenings on the balcony with a sweater, and even more grateful for the clear skies and fabulous sunsets. I know colder weather will come sooner than I desire.

Last weekend, my best friend came from Florida to spend a few days with me. When I called to tell her my mother died, she said she could come then or would wait until later. Whatever I desired. Waiting until later seemed like a good idea, and it was indeed. I rented a cabin and we drove through the most spectacularly beautiful canyons to our destination. Arriving at our little slice of heaven, we unpacked the car then walked down the hill to the river. Water flowing over rocks and boulders is so incredibly soothing. As we sat at the side of the river, we talked about everything that makes best friends best friends. Nothing is out of bounds, no thought ridiculous, and no grief not held by the other. Nothing said is irrational or judged or ridiculous. It is just held between two friends who know each other inside and out. Then we walked back to our cabin, mixed some cocktails and sat on the deck until the stars lit up the mountain sky. It was heaven indeed, and so comforting to relax into a friendship that has weathered so many years.

So as I sit here listening to the lawn mowers, the smell of my apple pie baking is beginning to fill my apartment and I am considering walking to the market to buy the ingredients for meat loaf. Complete with mashed potatoes, and maybe string beans. Something I rarely eat, but it just sounds good. And comforting, and out of the ordinary. I don't feel normal since losing my mother. I've lost my sense of normal, and I'm not ordinary. I am unique in my journey and the journey is just beginning. I'm still finding my footing and the ground on which my feet will eventually land may be completely different than I ever expected. It doesn't matter. Right now, I'm along for the ride. And on this ride they are serving meat loaf and mashed potatoes for dinner. With apple pie for dessert. So the message for today is that I'm not fighting the urge to make everything normal because it isn't. Otherwise, I would be having salmon and asparagus for dinner, a large salad and a glass of crisp chardonnay. My new normal will come to me in its own time. My belief in my ability to transition there is unshakable. I will find my way, and be wiser and richer for the journey. And perhaps a better cook...So the message for today I love my body more than grasping for normal...whatever that is.

XO,
Karen

A few words about feeling broken....

I have recently been feeling broken. Like I am wounded, carrying around the parts that have fallen off of me through my personal loss in a wheelbarrow. This is noteworthy because this equates to baggage to me. It is funny how in life we cling to things that are painful, carrying them around in wheelbarrows, boxcars, huge storage lockers, or tiny little makeup bags because it feels like if we let go we will be lost in a world of the unknown. The baggage justifies the behavior that others might find a wee bit odd. The hauling of these bags or pushing of the wheelbarrows is exhausting but we continue to carry them with us through our lives allowing them to color everything we do and shade each emotion with the caution that is constantly being whispered over our shoulders by said baggage.

I am broken because my mother is no longer in her earthly body. And it is painful. But she is in a beautiful container that sits on my table that I pass several times as I move through my day. It has been a process and I have finally reached the place that I realize that this isn't my mother. It is just a very nice container that I selected that contains a bag of ashes. Everything that I loved about my mother is not in that little bag. I loved her face, her smile, her fingers, and her gnarled up toes that were always in search of comfortable shoes. I loved how when I was happy she celebrated, when I was sad she listened. She would have been amazed that I am still shedding tears for her six weeks later. But I will mend, and she will still be just ashes in a container on my table. I am releasing the desire that I keep her with me. She is with me, but not in the ashes.

So, it is with resignation and love that I surrender once again and complete this journey with my mother. She wanted to be with my father at a military cemetery with her vital statistics etched on the back of the headstone with his vital statistics. A physical marker of her existence on this earth. I will release her ashes to the cemetery because she expected me to do that for her. I thought attending the cremation was my final act of taking care of her and her wishes. I realize now it was only the penultimate act. Releasing her ashes is the final act. Then I'll continue my journey of moving on, a woman who has been altered, but will arise richer, wiser, and deeper. This is a profound experience and I am honored to feel the depths of emotion, that I have evolved to the space in my life where I am cracked so wide open. Being vulnerable isn't that bad after all.

I am letting this pour through me, sometimes like a breeze, sometimes like a tsunami but I am unafraid of feeling it all. The highest highs and the lowest lows. I hold the belief that this experience is expanding me beyond my wildest expectations. To believe that in the past I have held my feelings so close to my chest, afraid I would be judged for not doing it properly seems foreign to me now. The feeling of just letting it all go, complete with peanut butter sandwiches at midnight if I want is emancipating. I know I will pop on the other side, but not until I'm ready. So, the message for today is I love my body more than the roller coaster ride I'm riding right now...

XO