Escape from DC

I don't travel much probably because I am not good at it. I detest airports and travel by flight, the jargon (stow your personal belongings, etc.), the inevitable humiliation at security checkpoints. Once I arrive at my destination, I am bewildered, jet lagged. I feel disoriented - not in a good way. A friend says it's important to put your feet on unfamiliar ground, but it takes me about a year to touch down anywhere I am, hence in a travel situation I never quite get my bearings. I'm exhausted but can't sleep, my stomach goes sour, I dislike living out of a suitcase. I could go on but you get the idea.

But I love day trips by car, bus or train out of DC. Yesterday some friends and I sped out of the city, drove north into the charming and picturesque Maryland countryside. We looked at antiques, drank coffee, took a walk across an old iron bridge, listened to the chatter and song of the Little Patuxent river. It was a glorious escape from the usual routines.

In a couple of weeks another friend and I are going to spend the day in Harper's Ferry, West Virginia, a magical and historical place. I'm hoping for good weather so we can explore the town in comfort but even if it rains all day I'll be happy to spend some hours away from the jaw-clenching vibe of DC.

I am an urban person, never more comfortable than here in the chateau in wonderful Capitol Hill, DC, but oh man it is so great to go fast in a car sometimes, leave it all behind. A series of modest trips out of the city, those that do not involve crossing time zones or airline jargon, is what I look forward to this summer.

There are people far away I would love to see, too. Maybe I'll take one flight sometime this year to one of the places where my beloveds live. Maybe. I did not step onto an airplane at any time in 2011. It was such a great year!

Next year in Jerusalem, y'all

It's Good Friday and at sundown, Passover begins. The sacred dramas that describe the springtime theme of death/rebirth are unfolding! Some years I observe Easter as I did last year when I attended a service in Polish with a Polish friend. Whoa. That was an eye opener! Some years I attend a Seder, take in the seasonal theme through the story of the exodus.

This year I'm working on Easter, also all day today. I will focus on the death of spasmed muscles and rebirth of relaxation as I knead, smooth and stretch the bodies of my clients.

It's not the worst way to observe the holiday weekend, is it? Happy whatever you celebrate, and happy weekend to those who celebrate neither of these holidays.

May we put down our burdens, leave behind our enslavements, may it be so! Shalom.

Pass over

Easter week tends to be strenuous psychically and spiritually. This year is no exception. The ancient themes of springtime surrender followed by redemption, aka death and rebirth, loom large in the Reyaverse. Of course I'm not the first, nor will I be the last, to feel unnerved at this moment in spring.

Today I'm thinking about how the story of Jesus on the cross is a grisly depiction of letting go, the idea that has been much on my mind of late. Another ultimate depiction is the story of Passover in which the Jews leave behind the lives they've lived for 400 years. I know it was slavery, but they were accustomed to it, they knew what to expect. Beyond Egypt was nothing but the desert. Who would willingly go forth into the sand, rock and penetrating sunlight with no idea what would happen next? The ten plagues were, in my opinion, not just to convince Pharaoh to release his grip on the Jews, but for the Jews themselves, to kick their asses out of the old routine. We humans hang on tight sometimes. It takes convincing to get us to change.

I love this old video, watch it every year. It's so silly.



One of my enslavements is the habit of worrying about everything. Spirit of Eagle has encouraged me to open my clenched fists. let go of this habit which reflects my ingrained distrust and showcases how superstitious I am. If I don't worry, something bad will happen? At some level, I believe this. For heaven's sake.

May I leave behind (for the most part) my inclination to worry this year as I cross the desert! May I be willing to let go without the added inducement of plagues. May I be graceful, may I be unenslaved, may it be so.

It's not even Passover yet but I'm on it. Shalom.

Old friends

Life is change, right? That's what they say. In Chinese medicine it is believed that change is so intrinsic to being human, if nothing changes, disease will result. It's interesting to think about. People who sit around all day become lethargic and unable to move even if they decide to do so. Neuroscientists believe if we think the same thoughts, follow the same routes and do the same work every day, our brains will lose plasticity. Neuroscientists are on board now with Chinese medicine. That makes me smile.

Some people make changes because they can't sit still for five minutes. I'm talking about a hefty percentage of the relentless go-getters and ambitious citizens of the District. I know DC isn't the only place where people get into a loop of go-go-go. Impatience is a sign of anxiety. It's not balanced and is not what the neuroscientists are talking about.

I'm a creature of habit and yet I tilt into change, at least I did earlier in life. Not so much an adventurer, I think one of the reasons I was always moving to a new city or starting a new career or shifting relationships when I was younger is because I didn't have an ability to tolerate sameness. I learned tolerance and resilience rather late in life. I might never have learned at all! Thank goodness for psychotherapy, life experience, meditation every day - and who knows what else!

I'm thinking about it this morning because I had dinner last night with an old friend. We met in 1980 and have been friends ever since. Last night we were reflecting on all the different phases of our friendship. We are not exactly compatible for many reasons that are no one's fault. Those incompatabilities used to create a lot of friction between us. Over time, the sharp edges have mellowed. At last we've settled into a benevolent tolerance of each other's quirks that makes a deep friendship possible. I have no doubt we will be friends until the day we die.

He is not my closest friend, I should say, and we have not harbored romantic feelings for each other for decades. We have a comfortable, radical acceptance of our heart connection in spite of our differences. Earlier in life I would not have been able to comprehend this kind of connection. It is yet one more aspect of aging that I appreciate.

Have a wonderful Wednesday. Shalom.

One foot in front of the other

That's the Library of Congress behind the tree.

The green dust is flying. I should be miserable with allergies, but somehow, I'm not, at least not yet. I'm well aware that part of my spring pattern is the thought, Maybe this year it won't be so bad. That thought precedes the pollinating oaks and grasses. Oh the oaks! We get along all year except during their spring orgy at which time they lay me low, historically anyway. Maybe this year it won't be so bad. Ya think?

Until I get miserable (IF I get miserable) I'll be spending lengthy chunks of each day outside, walking around. The weather is much more March-like this week than it was all winder. It's windy and cooler as it should be. The animal of my body appreciates appropriate weather. I find it reassuring that I must put on a jacket to be comfortable. This is right and proper since once summer settles over the swamp, I will wear as little as I can get away with (which may I say is not as easy as when I was younger.)

When Jake died, I worried I would lose touch with the world outside my front door, that I would avoid walking as I did before he came into my life. It has been almost three years since he passed. If anything, I am spending more time walking than I did during his last year. He was so fragile, he really couldn't walk far and I couldn't bear to take long hikes without him. I am very grateful that my many years with that dog set me in a pattern of walking every day.

There are many things on my mind, too many things! I'll get out there now, walk with my thoughts, walk through my thoughts, maybe learn something I don't already know, one of my favorite activities.

Shalom.

What's true?

It was fated that you would find the truth.
Now, tracing your way as if in a dream,
past where the sea meets the sky,
you slowly fade from the world in your fragile boat.
How calm are the water and the moon!
And how calm the fishes and dragons at the sound
of your chanting.
Always the eye watches just beyond the horizon
to the guiding light of your simple lantern.

--Ch'ien Ch'i

You can't take it with you

It occurred to me this morning as I was allegedly meditating that the practice of releasing my grip is one way in which I can get ready for what must eventually happen, you know: death. That is indeed the ultimate unclencher of fists, hey?

My mother used to say that during the first half of life, we acquire stuff, spend the last half giving it all away. I didn't have a clue what she was talking about at the time, but I get it now. I love getting rid of stuff; I'm the opposite of a hoarder. Good lord must I always be so contrarian?

I sifted through more boxes of photos last night. Every picture that meant nothing to me went promptly into the recycle bin. Ahh, what a great feeling, letting go. What I was imagining last night is that by the time I'm old and my life force begins to fade, I will own so few items that it won't take anyone that long to clean up after me when I pass. I have no kids, partner, not even a pet to whom I might pass on the few items of worth I own. Might as well make it easy for whomever gets stuck tying up the loose ends.

Today I realized that the practice of unclenching my fists will also help my spirit rise up and out of my body when that time arrives. In my heart of hearts I think I'm going to live on quite a ways into old age. There's no rush to let go of material and emotional and spiritual stuff, but oh my it feels so good. Ahhhhnwards and upwards.


One of the last things I'll get rid of, most likely, is my camera.