Archive | A Sip of Wisdom RSS feed for this section

New-bee

26 May

Here I am!  In France at Les Battees, the Chambre D’Hotes in Southern Burgundy that is my refuge in Europe for the summer.  Still adjusting to the fact that I am indeed… in France!

I took a bike ride today in the reasonable heat and inviting sun.  Les Battees is located about a kilometer away from a seemed endless canal lined with paths suitable for bicycling, jogging, you name it.  This was my first spin out on the bicycle since arriving a little over a week ago.  It was good to stretch my wings out a little under the warm French sun.   I rode about 4 kilometers up the canal.  A test run of sorts.  Getting used to the bicycle on loan for travelers at Les Battees. Still nurturing my ankle after my spill down a few stairs last week.  And getting a feel for “how far I can ride” as alas when heading in one direction eventually, you have to turn around and come back. Riding along the canal I passed clusters of homes assembled in a way that looks like perhaps a small village.  I passed many happy French cows, as for some reason they look happier and healthier here nestled among the French hillside than they do in the States.  I was passed by French roller bladers… leaving me in their dust.  They rode in tandem with one skater in the lead followed by their partner holding on to their backpack, skating nearly in unison.

Adapting to being in France is coming along.  The owner of Les Battees is English as well as his visiting mum so I am often “spoiled” by the ease of being able to speak my own language.  Although I have learned that English and American aren’t necessarily the same.  It’s not just the accent, but also the culture, context and even words.  On more than one occasion my host’s mom will innocently ask me a question only for me to look at her quite perplexed in need of a translation.  My host is well adept at switching to French when needed… greeting French guests or at least guests who arrive wanting/expecting to be spoken to in French while in France.

I have had the opportunity to speak meager sentences of French since arriving.  I am pulling out words from the remnants of my memory from high school almost 25 years ago.  I find that when I am listening to a french conversation while I recognize words and fragments, often I have no earthly idea of what they are actually speaking about.  But still when invited to speak French or there is an opportunity to speak a little French I admit I get a secret thrill.

Life here at Les Battees for me so far has been pretty simple.  My host seems to have a laid back attitude about work and a basic expectation of the work for me to do here.  His mother has a good motherly work ethic and likely keeps us both in check.  This past week has not been busy at the Chombres d’Hotes, but the weekend is booked full with guests.  When guests are here my host handles the simple breakfast of Croissants and coffee offered in the morning.  I get to step in to clean rooms and change beds when guests have left.  And then later in the evening while my host is preparing the meal, I do my best to help out in any way that I can.  My host likes to cook the meals mostly on his own.  So far I have chopped a strawberry here and there… but mostly I have been of assistance with serving the meal and cleaning up.

During the quiet of the week it seems that all three of us find our own way.  My host’s mother spending much of her time in the garden.  Often I take advantage of the luxury of a long morning… enjoy time with myself and chanting, reiki and yoga.  If there are rooms to be cleaned I tend to those, but sometimes there is not even that to be done.  I lend a hand with ironing sheets, pillowcases and duvet covers where there is ironing to be done.  And other wise I may find a little project to do in the garden.

One of my hosts favorite projects is tending to his bees.  When we are driving around the countryside he is ever on alert for the latest blooms in the area to tempt his bees.  A few kilometers from home we see bees lingering about… considering if they are his bees out at work.  Last night he got a call from Dutch friends down the street who also own and run a Chambres d’Hotes.  They had a bee swarm develop from a hive that was nestled within the wood floor of their building.  Ever the beekeeper, he responded with enthusiasm.  Apparently a hive swarms when there are too many bees and they are looking for a new nest.  So my host gladly collected the bees and is now feeding and nourishing them in the cellar.  His new-bees, as he likes to call them.

We all eat lunch and dinner together.  Lunch is usually a simple meal of whatever is left in the fridge.  Leftovers of yesterday’s dinner, bread and cheese, sometimes some humus and fresh veggies, perhaps a fresh salad.  And dinner has always been prepared fresh by my host.  He cooks every evening preparing some sort of lovely vegetarian meal.  Even where there are no guests to prepare for, with his cooking I always feel well fed.

Our guests here so far are from throughout Europe.  We have had guest from the Netherlands, England, Germany and of course France since I have been here.  Often we will join them for the evening meal.  It has been interesting to be around travelers from other countries and to be in a collection of people needing to agree on what language to speak.  I am fortunate that many people in Europe speak English, but there are times when segments of conversation are in another language and I am left in that foreign but somewhat familiar space of simply not knowing what is being said.

But here I am…a “new-bee” in France.  Not used to drinking much wine.  Still distinguishing bon soir from bon soirée. Enchanted by French cheese!  And spoiled by the warmth of the sun, the songs of the birds of Les Battees and the rolling hills of the quiet countryside of Southern Burgundy.

Tags: , , ,

New Beginnings

29 Apr

Well, it’s official.  My year of being in Europe is coming to a close and it looks like I have the pleasure of extending my time here.  Why is it official you ask?  Well, my flight back to the United States was on Tuesday, April 23 and… I wasn’t on the flight.  The strangest things about it is that not getting on that flight was… quite natural.  I took note of it… the day the flight was supposed to leave.  I paid special attention to my intuition the days before in case, for some reason, for my highest good, my insight demanded that I get on that plane.  But it didn’t happen.  I called to officially cancel my flight the morning of my flight, shared the news with one of our visiting Canadians, and then ate my oatmeal for breakfast.

As this year of travel is coming to a close it seems as if it is also a time… of new beginnings.  New beginnings in the space of not knowing what is next.  New beginnings in the space of being in Europe… without a ticket back to the States.  It is new ground for me… and on that ground I am growing.  I can see, imagine and feel what is next… without a deadline.  That door of returning to the States is always open to me, and I will take it when I feel the time is right… but in the meantime… so many other doors are open to me as well that feel oh so rich and inviting.

As I have spent most of my year in the expansive world of the Seminar Haus and Germany, it is still a thrill to me to look at another country… France perhaps… and consider the possibility of being there.  I am  somewhat of an “unexpected traveler”… making the decision to come to Europe at the last-minute in the face of many life changes… and so I am not a traveler with a lush traveling bank account.  Therefore, I am patient.  I keep it simple.  And I do my best to enjoy the time and lessons where I am.  And when the time and situation is right, I will head to a new destination to enjoy the time, experiences and lessons there.

From my time in the country in Wettenbostel I have learned that I really can do simple quite well.  It is not too startling or an upset to my psyche to be surrounded by potato fields and to have the plans for the evening to be a stroll in the flowering fields.  I don’t mind my neighbors being trees… and ponies…and goats… and a few people…or walking outside and more than anything hearing and feeling the silence and fresh air surrounding me.

I am grateful for my spiritual practices that are cornerstones for me and my time in Wettenbostel at the Seminar Haus.  Nearly daily, and some days twice a day, I make a visit to the altar of my yoga mat… greeting her with my breath and my patience.  Allowing myself to move and feel and being restored in that way.  Lately I feel pulled to spend more time doing yoga and bathing in its healing and nurturing impact on my body, mind and spirit.

It is hard for me to believe, but there was a time when I didn’t do yoga.  A time when yoga was foreign to me.  Raised in the suburbs of the mid-western United States, yoga was not something that I considered for myself.  I had a friend in New Orleans who grew up in Vermont and had been doing yoga since she was 18.  She knew I had challenges in my life and had often suggested yoga for me…  She would have a hard week at work and talk about her Saturday morning yoga class as returning to the love… or getting the love.  But at the time I just didn’t get it.  It wasn’t until the wake of  getting off of the anti-depressant Paxil that I seriously considered yoga.  And one day I did it… I just took the leap and committed myself to yoga starting with a class one day a week.  It was the place I went to find myself… to begin to unleash my pain and sorrow and surrender to something greater than myself.  And here I am 8 years later, still worshiping her.

It is a quiet Sunday night in Wettenbostel.  The crazy birds are outside my window singing their relentless sweet songs.  We had guests this weekend celebrating a 40th birthday.  They “took over” the whole compound, even the kitchen, and so mostly the staff here found ourselves dismissed for the weekend.  We would retreat from time to time to our hosts home up the street and share a little dinner prepared in his kitchen and watch a movie.  But mostly, we took it easy and laid low, which felt like a welcome respite.

Today as the party was coming to a close, my host and the visiting Canadians prepared themselves to head to Amsterdam to join in the celebration of Queens Day.  With the spirit of the trip being to party hard,  I chose to stay behind and enjoy the wake of stillness left in the space of the weekend party diminishing and their departure.  My porch companion Dan, too is gone for a few days as well as my hostess traveling for the week at a seminar.  So it is me here… to delight in the juicy peace that I need from time to time.

Enjoying the time alone, I am grateful for the fullness of the experiences of this past year and for some reason, somewhat relaxed at the possibility of the future.  The tulips are blooming in the garden and as May nearly creeps in, it is just starting to look like spring.  I can begin to feel the warmth of the sun, warming my heart, as I look forward… to big and little changes ahead, some things coming to a close and the promise of new beginnings.

Photo from the flowering gardens of the Seminar Haus.

Tags: , , , , , , ,

Learning a New Way

22 Apr

I have been here at Wettenbostel for almost a year now.  What an opportunity and challenge it has been! This year has been packed full with new experiences and people.  The foundation of my “existence” here is my agreement with my hosts to do work exchange.  This idea is simple… I work a certain number of hours a day in exchange for room and board.  It’s a brilliant idea and opens up a world  of opportunity.  My host here in Wettenbostel is very generous about opening his doors to people willing to lend a hand with the work.  He has recently become a member of the website helpx.net, a resource that connects travelers with hosts offering room and board in exchange for work they may need at their home, farm, business.  We currently have two visitors through helpx from Canada visiting here for a month… or longer as things may go.

Living this past year in exchange for room and board at the Seminar Haus has been interesting and challenging.  Here in Wettenbostel we are asked to work three to four hours a day… but the truth and experience of that is we are part of a “community” here and asked to contribute to what needs to be done on any given day.  Some days before seminars we can get very busy and rushed and it isn’t unusual to work 8 or ten-hour days.  Generally speaking we do not have days off here, although sometimes after a seminar we will take the next day a bit more slowly.

This past year has been a bit of a dance with me and my host finding the jobs that I do well and in a way that is pleasing to him.  I have had to learn to be flexible, try new things, fail, try again and communicate.  It relies not just on the physical work, but also maintaining the relationship with my hosts along the way.

The work I find I mostly do here at the seminar haus is cleaning the rooms before and after seminars.  We have 15 sleeping rooms total in all three buildings on the premises.  During seminar weekends I often spend a lot of time in the kitchen.  We serve three meals a day and I have helped with breakfast, lunch and dinner… sometimes helping to prep the food and often cleaning up afterwards.

I have done other miscellaneous jobs over the year.  I have painted the ceiling in the big dojo, pulled weeds and dug edges in the garden, assisted with cleaning and organizing the home of my host, and I have given Reiki treatments.  Through it all I have learned many lessons.   I have learned to have more patience, with myself and others.  I have learned to be more flexible as the spirit of this place and my hosts is unpredictable.  I have learned to take more initiative… that is considering what needs to be done or what could be done or asking what should be done in the course of the day when things may be slow.  And I have learned, and continue to learn, what it means to give of myself to others and asking myself… what is it I have to give today.  I have learned to continue to work in the face of my own challenges or resistance to the work at hand and I have explored setting boundaries for myself that still gives me time and space to take care of myself and meet my own needs in balance with what needs to be done and what is happening in my environment.

Like I said, this time of doing trade has been a dance… I am not sure what kind of dance exactly it is… but ultimately I feel it is good and nourishing for me.  It has taken me down new roads and paths, and it has pushed and challenged me mentally, emotionally and physically.

And after a year, I feel I am just beginning to find my feet in this new way.  There are places where I feel I have faltered and places where I feel I have grown.   Wow, what a time it has been!  And will continue to be… learning to live life in a new way.

Photo from the gardens of the Seminar Haus in Wettenbostel.

Tags: , , , ,

Soft Power

7 Apr

It is a chilly day in Wettenbostel.  The day before Easter.  I woke up this morning to see white flakes flying through the air.  My first thought was… perhaps they are blossoms coming from a tree… it’s Spring, right?  But alas, the weather today has been below freezing and those white flakes were snow.  The day has been a strange culmination of sunny blue cold skies and unexpected flakey white showers.

I recently finished a week-long Aikido workshop here in Wettenbostel.  It was led by Reiki Master and the  Head of Discipline in the Usui Shiki Ryoho tradition, Paul David Mitchell.  I am left in its wake feeling like I just took a magic carpet ride!

This workshop was not your typical Aikido workshop, but a poetic journey of exploring Aikido practices and principles.  Paul calls the workshop ” The Way to Harmony” and we were lead home to ourselves, to each other and to a power greater than ourselves.  Paul has been teaching Aikido workshops in Wettenbostel and other places in the world for over twenty years.

Paul Mitchell is a gentle, thoughtful, attentive, powerful and kind teacher. I was the “new kid on the block” in an assembly of around 16 returning and dedicated students.  I was welcomed into the group with open arms and challenged to be present and rise to the experience.

The workshop began with an introduction to the Aikido concept “one point”.  One point physically is located in the pelvic area.  If you hold your thumb to your belly button and extend your hand to your pinky, it reaches your one point.  Being in “one point” gives one access to a soft gentle power that to me felt like coming home.  The first few times I experienced being in “one point” it almost brought tears to my eyes, being so relaxed and at ease yet being strong and unmovable.  In that space of grace and ease there is an undeniable power that is greater than any physical force, resistance or effort.  Learning to connect to one point for me was like beginning to meet an unmet need.

We were partnered up and began a series of tests to learn and explore being in one point.  We began with holding our bodies in a state of resistance.  Holding tightly, we used force to hold our bodies still and with some effort our partners were not able to move us from our stand.  Then we explored holding our bodies in non-resistance… that is we allowed their hand to move us as we gently fell backwards.  Then, one point.  Standing in a space of non-resistance we focused our attention on our one point.  And when tested… we didn’t move.  But not only did we not move, unlike with physical resistance, our mind-body and spirit were in a space of openness and relaxation. Paul referred to being in one-point as our natural state, which he called mind-body unified.  The creator of Aikido, Morihei Ueshiba, calls this the perfect state of balance with the spiritual and the physical self.

We were guided to access mind-body unified in other ways as well.  We explored the principle of weight underside. To understand and experience this concept we were asked to stand next to our partners and put our attention on the bottom of our feet and let that feeling of attention flow through our whole body.  When doing this, guess what?… again unmovable.  To test this our partner put their hand on our ankle and tried to lift us.  When in a state of resistance we would eventually go toppling over with some strain.  But with attention to weight underside, again unmovable and ease and grace in the body and mind.

As we continued to explore these concepts in the workshop I began to see that certain things can take you out of the state of mind-body unified.  If I was worried, or thought to much or let me emotions take the lead I was unable to maintain the soft ease of mind-body unified.  I noticed this and practiced returning to the space of mind-body unified in the midst it.  I was coached by Paul to let my emotions go to my one point and with some practice I was able to find my “center” again using these techniques.

To demonstrate these ideas, Paul had us do an exercise where we went to one point and whispered to ourselves… I can’t do it.  And notice the results… which were, of course… not being able to stay in the soft power of one point.  Then we whispered “Maybe I can do it”… and similar results.  And then we said “I can do it”… and with that positive intention there was success.

The workshop invited us to explore our relationships and connection with one another.  With some practice, we progressed to some more challenging exercises.  One of these exercises used wooden swords.  We learned a pattern with the swords, dancing over and around our shoulders, that at first we did separately.  But then, we came together and worked with that pattern in relationship to a partner.    We stood, legs stretched out, connecting first one point for ourselves and then connecting in mind and heart with our partners.  And then we began.  As we did our individual patterns together, our swords connected with our partner intermingling in a beautiful and powerful pattern.

During this exercise, I learned a little bit more about the importance and possibility of trust.  First I had to trust myself… with my own power and my ability to do my part.  Second I had to trust my partner to do their part.  I saw that if I didn’t trust my partner, I would hold back… trying not the “hurt them” which limited the connection and the experience.  But if I trusted myself and let go and trusted my partner, the exercise was a satisfying experience of play and connection.

In the workshop I saw that I am not a victim… I have equal access to the “inalienable right” of soft power of mind-body unified.  I got to experience that even when challenging feelings or emotions came up, there is still the possibility of reconnecting with this strength.

And now, the week  has come to a close.  New faces and connections from the workshop have come and gone.  And time continues here in Wettenbostel.  We have received the gift of a young traveling Canadian couple here to work and visit for a little while.  Their smiles and spirits very welcome here.  My friend Olaf from Hamburg unexpectedly arrived in Wettenbostel as well so on “Easter eve” we have a small community here.

There is an easter bonfire in Wettenbostel tonight.  It is promised to bring out most of the 59 residents of this small farming village.  The cold weather may be a little daunting, but I intend to make my way to the community event.

But for now, I enjoy a little quiet time in the intimacy of my room looking out the window at the expanding woods outside.  Bathing in the aftermath of the Aikido workshop and the experience of my own strength and soft power.

Photo by Michael Hartley from the emerging… Spring?… gardens of Wettenbostel.

Tags: , , , , ,

Being Powerful

6 Mar

Another day in Wettenbostel.  The winter sun is beginning to allow for some warmth and it is a joy to feel Wettenbostel getting closer to the edge of Spring.  Today we saw some geese flying.  Their beautiful “V” shape broke down as their flight pattern shifted into chaotic circles suspended above the fields as if their leader had lost directions or forgotten where they were going.

Today I continued to work a little with my host out in the fields cutting down trees.  At this point the trees have actually already been cut and mostly we are collecting the wood and getting the branches out of the field as the farmers are getting closer with their tractors.  The fragrance in the air lately is less than desirable as the farmers have also begun…fertilizing.

As I work outside with my host, he continues to push me to my “growing edge” in the area of strength.  Not just emotional strength or courage in that way, although he pushes me there too, but physical strength.  Growing up in the suburbs and having lived until Wettenbostel in the city, I do not have must practice or experience with outside physical labor.  Perhaps I was a little spoiled in some ways growing up in the suburbs… not ever really needing to lend a powerful hand outdoors.

Chatting casually the other day while unloading the wood my host and I discussed our upbringing.  His in Cananda, both of his parents professional people who decided to live on a farm.  Inexperienced as they were, it was still part of his culture and world to be in, depend on and rely on the outdoors.  I told him I grew up in the suburbs.  When we wanted firewood we went to the grocery store and bought it!  It would never have occurred to us to go outside and chop down a tree and then cut it up ourselves.  The idea would almost have been funny!

But here I am in northern Germany in the country and fields of Wettenbostel surrounded by forests and homes that rely on firewood to help keep them warm.  So we continue… to collect and chop the wood.  The other day I gave a try at using the axe to chop a piece of wood myself.  Ever the Aikido instructor, my host showed me a method to ground myself, get centered in what he calls “ki” energy, and use the momentum of my body to chop the wood.  This was a very new experience for me… using my body in this way.  The first few tries I laughed as the axe bounced off the wood.  But after a few tries… some success.  The blade sunk a little into the wood and began to split.  That was good enough for me.  I would live to chop another day.

Today while we were unloading the firewood I worked until all that was left were rather large pieces of wood.  I looked at them through my spoiled suburban eyes and thought, I will leave those for him and prepared my mental escape to get away from the work.  Unrelenting as he can be, my host encouraged me that I could actually lift all of those pieces myself.  I just needed to think about things differently.  Don’t use my arms to lift, he said.  Your arms are the weakest part of your body.  But they’re good for holding onto things!… Use your legs he urged and showed me how to roll the large wood to the back of the trailer, crouch down in a lunge and receive the wood with my legs and mostly just use my arms to hold onto the wood.  And you know what, it worked!  I was able to lift and carry all of the large wood left in the trailer.  I noticed it took what in yoga we refer to as core strength… that space that runs through the circle of our middle… that and the strength of my legs.

These experiences bring up for me my own insecurities about being powerful and being a woman.  I notice how I can back away from my own power in the name of being a “woman”.  And not just when lifting logs out the back of a trailer, but in other areas of my life.  I find I am hesitant with power.  Uncertain of its application and my access to it. It is useful for me to be challenged to explore it.

I finished emptying out the trailer as my host shared with me a story of this large Buddha statue he found years ago that was just “meant” to be his.  Beautiful as it was, it was big and heavy! He was able to get it back to his home, at the time in Canada, but did not have the strength to unload it.  And then one day he said, he just “knew” that he had enough “ki” energy to lift it.  So he did.  And he was successful!…

I shared with my host that the other day someone asked how old he was and was surprised when they heard the answer was 65.  They thought he was much younger. My host is not your typical 65-year-old man.  You might not keep up with him if you go out dancing with him and he may possibly be the one to shut down the place.  He maintains a huge garden and during Seminars on the weekends he is cooking up a creative storm in the kitchen.  He commented that with the practice of Aikido and Reiki you can’t quite stop time, but you can access enough ki energy to stay youthful.  I buy it!  For me that also lives somewhere in the space of spirit as I have other “older” friends who also live in the timeless youthful space.

So today, new experiences in being powerful.  And new ideas about the possibility of power.  No matter what your age, your gender and even… if you grew up in the suburbs!

Tags: , , ,

Unbound

1 Mar

For years now I have had this feeling… like I have been bound up as if tied up with tape… perhaps gagged and often unable to move very freely, let alone breath.  This feeling expands and contracts.  Sometimes very noticeable.  Other times less. If you would like a mental image for it, you can refer to the tarot deck.  The 8 of swords…  there she is. Tied up with seemedly no place to go.  In my years of reading the tarot she has shown up more than once in my own readings.  “There she is again”, I would think… never quite sure what to do with her.

My experience with the 8 of swords and being in “bondage” is that it usually takes someone besides yourself to get out.  Kind of like that game where a bunch of people join hands and make a human knot… and then often an outsider is required to coach the group as they detangle.  When detangling oneself, it helps if that external person is someone wise who you can count on.  With that in mind, I have started back seeing my therapist from New Orleans.  We are meeting every other week via Skype. She has a good eye for detangling… and can see things and offer suggestions in ways that just would not occur to me.  She is resourceful.  In my work with her, the  theme for me is “softness”… learning to explore and be with the challenges I feel and face in my being and my body in a way that is soft.  Holding them, as she says, in a way that is loving, patient and compassionate.  It is a good practice for me. I have a habit of being a bully with myself.  It is also a practice for which I need… support.  And an external eye to see things that I cannot see.

The past few days in Wettenbostel my host seems to be coming out of his winter sleep.  No longer frost on the ground but still a good bite in the air, he has a fiestiness to his energy like a bear coming out of hibernation.  He has recruited me to be of assistance in his latest project… chopping down trees.  Here in Germany, or at least in Wettenbostel, the local Forrester goes around and marks all of the trees that are suitable for cutting.  Then those trees can be cut down by, I believe the end of February.  So these past few days, chop, chop chop…down they went.  I made myself useful by pulling the cut off branches out of the farmers land and into the clearing of trees.  “You did that must faster than I expected…” he said.  Always nice to receive a complement.  And what can I say, I thought, I just moved… and dragged the trees.  And then it was done.  It was good to be out in the fresh open air and doing some physical work and I may have had  little vigor myself in my movement.  Sometimes its nice just to work and not have to think.

Today we continued to clear out the trees and loaded the trunks which my host cut with a chainsaw into his trailer for chopping.  He tried to recruit me to use his smaller chainsaw the other day… but even it felt “heavy” to me.  Not quite what I wanted to be doing… holding something that felt “heavy” that happened to be a chainsaw!  He teased me and said I am a physical wuss.  Well, perhaps so… but in that moment I did not see using the chainsaw in my immediate future.

He intends to teach me how to chop wood.  Something I am open to and willing to give a shot… yet, of course as a physical “wuss” I will not push it too hard as I imagine those are musicles I have perhaps… never used.  As he is also a martial arts teacher, I imagine there will be some technique to the chopping besides swing the axe and hit the wood really hard.  We will see.

But no chopping for me today.  Instead I departed my work with my host and went to give a reiki treatment to the queen of the Seminar Haus.  They are both Reiki Masters and enjoy receiving treatments.  It is not quite a regular thing around here, but Reiki is readily used to heal physical wounds and also help smooth over and move through challenging times and emotions.

I have been spending some time lately on helpx.net…a website for international work exchange.  It connects hosts who have a room and board to offer to travelers in exchange for some work in their home, business, farm…castle…  I am taking some time to see what else is out there in other countries and perhaps someplace or places new to stay.  It is an amazing website and resource.  Some hosts welcome travelers for shorter visits like a week.  And other are seeking “helpers” as they are called to be with them for months.  We will see what unfolds.

And otherwise, just another quiet evening in Wettenbostel.  Some good energy in a little outdoor work.  A skype appointment with my therapist today.  And practice, and experience in being kind, patient and compassionate with myself… with the intent of being unbound.

Tags: , , , , , ,

Graduation Part 1

16 Feb

Well, the snow is beginning to melt in Wettenbostel, although this morning the green grass is coated with a layer of frost.  Is this the beginning of the end of winter hibernation?  While there has been joy and satisfaction in my snowy, isolated winter escape, I must admit this extended period of time alone is starting to rattle me a bit.  I am exploring new places to be.  My inner voice reminds me to be patient even though I feel a sense of urgency within me.   Ah.  I breath in and out.  I try to ground myself in my body, feeling my feet in my slippers as I walk across the cold house floors.

I watched the movie Peaceful Warrior last night.  It is a film based on the book and true story of Dan Millman.  I was drawn to it as I am taking an on-line class of his through dailyom.com called the 4 minute workout.  What I like about the workout  so far is its careful attention to stretching and moving all parts of the body – even parts I had forgotten about!  The movie is based on the story of Dan, a talented college gymnast, who meets an unexpected spiritual teacher at a local gas station who can do things Dan can’t understand or even imagine.  After shattering his leg in a motorcycle accident, Dan relies on this teacher to help him reshape his thinking and his world.  The film is a good reminder of the art of being present.  A concept I will employ as I continue here in the quiet halls of the seminar haus.  As my Reiki teacher Elizabeth and Mr. Miyagi say, “wax on, wax off.”

The other day on Facebook I noticed a quote from spiritual teacher Iyanla Vanzant that caught my attention.  She said “There are times when we do not recognize it is the time to move forward.  When life is ready for us to move and we resist, life will move us by any means necessary.  What may feel like a disaster is actually a graduation.  Remain open to being guided, supported and protected by the universe.”  I really appreciated that in the face of the “disasters” in my life.  Reframing those situations, feeling them in my body and mind as a graduation feels like a useful shift in perception.

One of my life’s graduations happened about 6 years ago now… known by many of you as Hurricane Katrina.  When I was writing my last blog entry I described getting off of the drug Paxil as one of the hardest things I have ever had to go through… As I wrote that, there standing in the background begging for attention was yet another challenging time..the experience of Hurricane Katrina.

I was living in a ground floor apartment in New Orleans at the time.  On Carrollton Ave.  I had been off of Paxil for about 2 years and was still a little daunted from the journey.  I clung to the safety of my apartment and had just a small handful of people I allowed into my life.  I had recently taken my first degree Reiki class.  With it came development in my healing and a new  community of support.  I was living a very “bohemian” lifestyle.  I had no car and rode my bicycle everywhere, I read tarot cards in Jackson Square and had a part-time job selling kites at a local store in the French Quarter.  While there was much about this colorful and simple lifestyle that were dear to me, I screamed out for something that felt more secure.  Money was scarce.  I sometimes found myself digging for ten or twenty cents so I could buy myself a banana or two. I yearned for something that felt more stable.  “I want to live more civilized!”  I cried out to the universe.  And I guess she heard….

It was August 2005 and I was preparing to attend the Landmark Forum, a weekend seminar designed to help you transform your life.  I was inspired to attend by my friend Christian.  He invited me to an introduction to the Landmark Forum, and after attending I felt a little spark in my eyes that had long been in the shadows.  The only things that seemed to be in the way was… the money.  In the Landmark Forum, when registering you are encouraged to look at what is “stopping” you… as likely that same issue stops you in other areas of your life.  And they say that is when your Landmark Forum begins… during registration and the issues and challenges you face.  So there it was.  $400.  It looked like a mountain to me, someone who had been collecting change to buy bananas.  My friend Christian had contributed the initial $100 for me to register.  Now I needed the remaining $300.

It was mid-August and my Landmark weekend was just around the corner. The new owner of the home where I rented my apartment was an old friend of my Reiki teacher, Elizabeth.  And, as fate would have it, she used to be a seminar leader for Landmark Education.  Elizabeth suggested that I call her for advice.  Nervous and shy to reach out to others, I mustered a little courage and gave her a call.  And here is what she said.  She told me to make a list of all of the people I could borrow money from and then pick the last person I would ever ask and start with them.  I told her that I did not yet have my money for the next months rent and I was concerned about doing the Forum and coming up with rent.  That she advised me was my risk, my decision to make and she wished me good luck.  While we were still talking, my sister called in on the other line.  There she was, the last person I would ask for money.  I answered the line and took a leap and asked her for the money.  She and her husband responded in a most generous way and agreed to give me the total amount I needed to attend the seminar.  We made an agreement for me to do a little design work for her husband’s business in exchange.  Still not knowing how I would pay for my rent, I threw some caution to the wind, completed my registration and I was on my way!

The night before I was to leave for the Forum, Elizabeth, her husband Bob, Christian and my friend Mark gathered in the living room of my little apartment to see me off.  I was surprised at how nervous and emotional I was.  “I am just going away for the weekend” I thought.

The next day I rode in the carpool of folks driving from New Orleans to Houston, about a 6 hour drive.  I stayed in Houston with a Landmark Forum graduate, a friend of Christian’s.  Her name was Kess.  A sweet tender-hearted woman, her little apartment was the perfect place to stay.  It felt friendly and welcoming.

Attending the Landmark Forum was kind of an “outing” for me back into a more mainstream American society.  Tucked in the bohemian world of New Orleans, I had not been in high-rise buildings, intense central air-conditioning, flourescent lights, and square rooms with beige walls in at least two or three years.  I had not been in rooms filled with professionally dressed people and women wearing make-up and neatly done hair-dos.  It was a little startling at first, but little by little, I made my way.

It was Saturday of the Landmark Forum when they made the announcement that there was a category 5 hurricane heading straight for New Orleans.  In the context of the Landmark Forum they teach that we are “meaning making machines” and the stories of our lives have only the meaning that we assign to them.  So within the context of the course, I did my best to view the news in a positive light.  And the weekend course continued.

By the end of the Landmark Forum, I saw someone new and yet familiar when I looked in the mirror.  It was me.  Only somehow, it was me that I had not seen in a very, very long time.  My eyes looked focused and clear and there was even a glimmer, dare I say a spark of light in them.

My friend Mark had called.  He at first thought he might stay in New Orleans and ride out the storm, but then late on Saturday night he had a strong gut feeling to get the hell out of there.  So he packed up a few things, and grabbed his cat and his neighbor.  Next he went by my apartment and grabbed three things – my laptop, my cat Sophie and my guitar.  They made their way together through the grueling traffic-ridden evacuation on his way to meet me in Houston.

Mark and I had been friends in New Orleans for quite some time.  In the wake of getting off of antidepressants he was the first person who I felt I could relax with… exhale. And one of the few people I felt could actually understand what I was going through.  To say that Mark was “my boyfriend” were never words that felt quite right coming out of my mouth.  But he was someone I was connected to and could count on.

Mark and company arrived in Houston after being on the road for some 22 hours or so.  Kess was generous enough to welcome everyone into her home.  Me, Mark, his neighbor and the two cats – we all camped out in the living room of Kess’s one-bedroom apartment.  The hurricane came and went and it seemed perhaps the worst was over.  But then the flood waters started to flow.  Levees had broken and the water from Lake Pontchartrain began to fill the city.

Living in New Orleans, prior to Hurricane Katrina, you hear and you read that the city is a bowl.  New Orleans is below sea level, and shaped bowl-like surrounded by water.  We were always told, when “the big one” came the city would fill up and be flooded.   It was just a matter of time.  Secretly I thought we were exempt from that.  That it would never happen.  And there it was.  It was happening.  I have to admit, as the waters began to roll into New Orleans, I silently hoped it would give me a way out of my life and life circumstances.  There were so many things that I just wanted to wash away with the storm.

When it became clear that New Orleans was in the midst of something of disastrous proportions, we all began to plan and explore our next step from the bunkers of Kess’s living room.  Cell phone reception for New Orleanians was down which made it difficult to be in touch with people.  Mark and I had decided to see our way through this together and his neighbor was seeking a new place to find refuge.  In the wake of the Landmark Forum, I suggested that we look at this as an opportunity to create something that we really wanted.  It was apparent that for at least the short term going back to New Orleans would not be an option.  We did not want to stay in Houston.   I called my parents and heard that a college friend from Austin, TX had been in touch.  Her message was, “I just have this feeling… I know that Nancie needs to come to Austin.”  Mark and I agreed, Austin seemed like a good place to be for a little bit.

Mark and I did our best to be responsible and handle as many details as we could up front.  We made the smart decision of calling FEMA right away and filing an early claim.

Elizabeth and Bob had evacuated to Houston and we met at a Starbucks.  We sat with one another in a state of shock and disbelief.  It was good to be connected  even in the foreign territory of Houston with  its big, busy modern ways and landscape.

I called my friend in Austin.  Her name is Rita, a powerful little Indian woman and a force to be reckoned with.  She armed us with phone numbers from craigslist of Apartment complexes offering deals to Katrina “evacuees”.  She and her husband generously offered to put us up for a week in a hotel in Austin while we found a more stable place to be.  By the end of the week we departed Houston and made our way to Austin.

We arrived in Austin, wounded and weary, and met up with Rita and her husband at a local taco place.  Welcomed into the bosom of Austin, the owner of the restaurant treated us to a complimentary meal that evening and gave us free t-shirts from his place.  We spent that week in a hotel considering what was next.  Amazed, we found ourselves looked for apartments as we needed a place to stay.  Neither Mark or I had any money.  But within the week, with the blessing of a “Hurricane Katrina” special and a free first months rent, we found ourselves signing a 6 month lease.

I called Elizabeth from the new place.  In a state of shock I said to her, “…I think I live in Austin…”

Tags: , , , , , ,

The Road Less Paxil

10 Feb

Greetings from the frozen tundra of Wettenbostel.  Perhaps that is stating it a bit dramatically, but suffice to say it has been cold.  My litmus test for cold – my Canadian host, raised where it was so cold that a child once died walking to school, agrees… it is cold outside.  And so…it must be true.

It is the reality of hibernation here in Wettenbostel.  We have had no seminars since before the holidays. My painting project has progressed from the ceiling of the seminar room to the walls.  The adventure on the colder days consists of running, quickly from the main house to the Big Dojo where I am painting.  On bolder days, an afternoon stroll.  I must admit that the cold air feels fresh shooting through my body and is perhaps something that I have needed after thirteen years of living in the steamy heat among the bayous of New Orleans.  Even so, I feel like a pioneer living in the big house, feeding the fire that helps heat the house with coal like a mother feeds her child.  I walk briskly, scarf and mittens intact, scrambling from my comfortably heated room through the cold air of the hallways to find respite in the general warmth of the kitchen.  Even in the cold, I am grateful to have the sanctuary of the Seminar Haus to stay for a bit.

I have relocated to an upstairs room which does not regularly connect to the wifi on the seminar haus compound.  I find myself unwilling to leave the cocoon of my warm room.  So here  I am dangling into the bathroom connected to my room reaching and grabbing for a few internet bars.  So far so good.

I have had a visitor here for the week.  A young woman named Rachel visiting from Australia through helpx.net.  Generally, communication is not a problem between us as… for the most part… we speak the same language.  The city of Perth is her home and it heralds a warm climate.  She has spent at least half of her week here in the winter of Wettenbostel looking a little… blue… and not because she is sad, but because she is cold.  I have done my best to pass on my cold weather tips I have gathered… perpetual hot tea, wool socks on feet, scarf on neck, layers, and of course… wool, wool, wool!

The solitude and stillness of winter continues to feed time for exploration… I am exploring the possibility of teaching English as a second language here in Europe and also looking into my next place to visit for a bit (thinking sunny and warmer!).  Of course I am still tending to the fires of my personal healing and well-being.

As some of you may know from past posts, I was on the anti-depressant drug Paxil for about ten years.  I went through the challenge of getting off Paxil about 8 years ago and thought I should just leave that in the past.  But, as Iyanla Vanzant, spiritual author and teacher, says, you know that you have healed something from your past when you can talk about it without anymore anger, sting or trigger.  Me and Paxil – we are not there yet.  I thought perhaps it was best to be quiet about my challenges with Paxil, on and off the drug, and leave it in the past.  However, being quiet does not always set one free.  It can do just the opposite.  It can be suffocating.

Paxil, as some may know, is a popular anti-depressant prescribed for a whole host of things – OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder), depression, social anxiety… and more…  I was put on it at the age of 22 in 1993 assured that in a few years I could stop taking it.  I was just to use it as a means to get me through a tough time. I was on Paxil for ten years because of its challenging withdrawal symptoms… As the title of one article about Paxil taunts, Paxil is Forever … As stated by an attorney representing a class action suit against the makers of Paxil, “the scariest part about this is that there are people out there trying to get off this drug who are experiencing these horrible withdrawal reactions. They think it’s because of something wrong with them, when it’s really the Paxil – – and then they take even more and further exacerbate the problem!”  Amen sister.  They’re singing my song.

After doing a little bit of internet research, I found and contacted a law firm that handled a class action suit of about 3000 people on Paxil around six years ago.  The suit was for non-disclosure of withdrawal symptoms.  They won the case and as a result the makers of  Paxil, Glaxo Smity Kline, now are required to make public the withdrawal symptoms and can no longer advertise that it is non-habit forming.  An ABC broadcast tells the story of how Paxil had found in their research that more than 21% of those taking the drug experienced withdrawal symptoms and the company hid that research.  These withdrawal symptoms, as they were with me, can be so severe it seems nearly impossible to get off the drug.  People have written their stories and programs for successfully getting off of Paxil and one non-profit called the Road Back even offers a series of vitamin supplements to assist in the process.

Just a little bit of research has shown me that there are thousands of Paxil and former Paxil users who either can’t get off of the drug or went through a life changing experience getting off of it.  It is almost of epidemic proportions.  For me getting off of Paxil was one of the most challenging things I have ever done in my life.  And if I had not been 100% no turning back committed, I am not sure I could have done it.  I wrote more about this experience in an earlier blog, Unburdening. For me, it helped having a period of time where I did not work.  I sold my car to cut down on expenses.  I started taking yoga.  I joined an on-line Paxil withdrawal support group. I bought a pill cutter to slowly wean myself off of it (liquid form is now available for that purpose…).  And when my mind and body felt like they were going to go astray, I kept the book Prospering Power of Love close at hand to focus on and read it like a mantra. Now, eight years after being off of the drug I can say I earnestly no longer have a physical or psychological desire to be back on it.  But there were many times even years after being off of it, I wondered if I could make it and my life and my being felt like they were turned inside out.

When I stopped taking Paxil I was about 32.  One of my motivations for getting off of Paxil was wondering, if I wanted to have children, what impact these drugs would have on an unborn child, marinated in Paxil for 9 months.   And sure enough, those instincts and, gosh, common sense really, were right.  The latest litigation against Paxil?  You guessed it – birth defects.  I also, of course, wondered what these drugs were doing to me and my brain long-term.  I have not yet found much research on that, but I am still suspicious that some of my current challenges are a result of long-term effects from taking Paxil for ten years.

In my reaching out recently I have been connected with quite a few resources regarding Paxil, getting off of Paxil, and antidepressants in general.  Great information to have upfront if you or someone you know is on Paxil and would like to get off of it.   Please keep in mind that I am not a medical doctor and I did not personally used these resources below when getting off Paxil. Here they are:

The Antidepressant Solution by Dr. Joseph Glenmullen helps safely guide you off of antidepressants like Paxil.

A man named Mr. Fiddaman wrote his own guide of how he got off of Paxil.  If you email him at fiddaman64@blueyonder.co.uk he will email it to you.  He also has a blog about it…http://fiddaman.blogspot.com/

The Road Back is a non-profit organization that has uses vitamins to assist through the withdrawal process.  The website is theroadback.org

And here is a site where you can report your side-effects to the FDA… http://www.fda.gov/Safety/MedWatch/HowToReport/default.htm.

quitpaxil.org is an on-line resource to support people getting off of Paxil.

And of course if you are experiencing challenges going off Paxil, you can always contact me.

I will continue to write in my blog about my adventures with Paxil.  And what about you?  Do you have any stories or experience to share about Paxil or other SSRI (Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitor) drugs?  Perhaps your own personal journey.  I’d love to hear from you.  Your challenges, triumphs or experiences, encouragement…  Please write!

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Love me tender

30 Jan

It is a juicy cold winter day in Wettenbostel.  The temperature is -6 degrees… luckily, that’s celsius not farenheit.  But still, it is cold enough. Bundled in wool, I love it outside, for a little bit. But mostly, I am grateful to be warm inside!

I cooked the most delicious food for myself today.  How is it that sometimes you can cook the simplest of things… broccoli stir fry and rice… and it tastes SOOO GOOD!  I have a little break in painting the ceiling of one of the seminar rooms, my latest task here at the Seminar Haus.  I ran out of paint.  Alas.  So in the meantime simply tending to a little cleaning in the kitchen.

As I bask in the warmth of the kitchen I hear the voice of my friend, Reiki Master and counsel, Elizabeth Ohmer Pellegrin, saying  “Use your alone time wisely” .  Hmmm… I find myself thinking.  What exactly is using my alone time wisely?  I think…in part…I am beginning to find that answer.

As I continue to listen to the story of Iyanla Vanzant on my new audiobook, Peace from Broken Pieces, her story unfolds and I listen intently.  The story has moved past the tragedy of her childhood and has blossomed into her world as a successful spiritual teacher.  What has struck me today as I listen is her spiritual practice of turning to God when she needs an answer for herself and her life. Guidance along her journey. Her practice is to immerse herself in prayer for 5 or 6 days until she feels she has an answer for herself and her life.  That is it, I thought today.  That is wise use of my time… going within, using the tools of my spiritual practices, to nourish myself and to seek and explore what it is I need to know for myself and my life at this point in time.  I check in with the Tarot cards, an old friend and confident.  They agree as they reveal to me the Hermit card… a time for being alone and connecting deep within.

When I was a child I used to have this sort of unusual experience.  The word I used to describe it was feeling like I was in a straw, like a vortex of energy was slipping and sliding right through me…and I was part of it.  As I grew older my recollection of this feeling came and went.  And then one day… it revisited.  I was assisting at a course taught by Landmark Education known as the Wisdom course.  One of my favorite courses in the Landmark curriculum, it was a series of powerful weekends that span over the course of a year.  As someone who was assisting… my role, my function was to be of service to the course and the participants.  The role of assisting during a course always keeps you hopping.  Being present, paying attention, and being available to do what is needed to make the course happen.  Whatever it takes.

It was during the course that I felt this feeling again.  This straw-like notion swirling through my body.  Now a little older than when I was a child, I at least had some modicum of wisdom to be able to pay attention to what it was that I was feeling.  That feeling, that sensation I could discern was oneness, our “we-ness”, that space in the cosmic soup where there is no you or no me… but we.  And it is my understanding that I was able to experience that feeling once again during the course in the context of authentically being of service.  Giving of my heart and giving up my me to be in service to others.  In that space, the I or me just kind of slipped away and what was there?  We!

That moment was a spiritual breakthrough for me.  It reminded me that our spiritual essence has been connected to me my whole life.  I have had that feeling, that straw-like sensation on a few more occasions since then.  Sometimes I experience it during a Reiki treatment.  … and ultimately it seems that is what I am returning to… like a slippery slide.

So here I am…being a Hermit in Wettenbostel.  In the still darkness of winter. A little breath of sun today as the temperatures get a bit more frosty.  Taking time out for a few earthly pleasures like yummy food and, okay, watching a movie or two on my computer.  But intently basking for a few days in my spiritual practices… Reiki, chanting, A Course in Miracles and yoga… exploring that deep place within.  Ah, feels so good.  Feels like some love.  Some time just to…love me… tender.

Photo by me from the snowy fields of Wettenbostel

Tags: , , , , , ,

Healing

25 Jan

Greetings from the cold walls of the kitchen at the Seminar Haus in Wettenbostel, Germany.  My hands are cold and icy as I take a moment to write a little in the cool winter air.  Preparing yet another pitcher full of hot tea… nourishing me on the inside and I suppose nourishing my spirit as well.

My current project here at the Seminar Haus… painting the ceiling of the Big Dojo, one of the buildings in the collection here.  I must confess, I feel far away from the inspiration of Michelangelo… and I have a pretty good kink in my neck, but in general I am glad for the work.  It feels good to have a place to come to put a little time and energy on something.  To focus on something as simple as dipping a paintbrush into a bucket of paint and then applying it carefully along the seam of the ceiling and its many beams.  While I am painting I have been listening to an Audio book by Iyanla Vanzant.  She is a spiritual author who I have enjoyed over the years.  There was an offer on-line for a free audiobook … so I took advantage of it and downloaded Iyanla’s latest book, Peace from Broken Pieces.  I am not that far into it, but listening to it is like eating some sort of food that I didn’t even realize I was hungry for.  It is satisfying.

My time here in Germany and Europe, as I have written, continues to be a time of healing for me.  A healing path that began most notably with a personal crisis my senior year in college, then ten years of  a steady diet of Paxil … and well, the turbulent journey off getting off of Paxil and life with the puzzle and experience of the trauma that lied underneath.  The journey of healing has shown to me that… it is a process, unfolding, leaf by leaf, flower by flower… and year by year.  You cannot rush healing… perhaps accelerate it at times, but it is its own mystery, its own path.  And at most what you can do is take it and yourself one step, one day at a time to see… and try not to take things so seriously.

I started practicing Reiki about 8 years ago.  I found my way to a first degree Reiki class not long after getting off of antidepressants.  And it, in its own way, was a miracle for me.  The beginning of release.  Sometimes it seems that in healing oneself you must first go down a long and sometimes lonely journey to get to the bottom of the well.  And just when you think you are at the bottom… you are still not there yet.  Still more.  Still deeper.  Still more to lose, give up, surrender.  Healing has shown many different faces to me… despair, loneliness, rage, laughter, unspeakable beauty.  It is in the depth of her invitation that I have found something balanced and beautiful and it is there where I rest my hat.

In Iyanla’s book, she shares her own journey and expresses that she has come to believe that each of us choose our lives… our parents, our families, hurts, traumas, joys and laughter… as our perfect spiritual curriculum.  And it is the perfect curriculum, just for us, as its ultimate goal is to lead us back to God.  And in that way, all the characters in our play of life become heroes… the good and the bad as they have been the exact gift that we needed.  That have sent us to pray, to meditate, to take a different path.

And so, here I am, in the latest chapter of my healing.  I find myself in the lately quiet space of Wettenbostel.  A village of almost 60 people set amongst the potato fields in Germany.  Listening at times to the silly stories of my host and his friends here.  And much of the time on my own and independent.  In the quietness of the woods amongst no one but the trees surrounding me, I see and feel that I am here for my healing.  It is not always glamorous.  I often struggle.  But my time here seems to be folding me into a gentler surrender with myself as the woods and the land hover around me and protect me like a nurturing mother.

Listening to Ilyanla, I am reminded I am on a journey.  I am reminded to be tender and kind with myself.  And I am activated by the idea that my life is my perfect curriculum.  Everyone’s journey of healing is different.  And for now, mine has sent me to Wettenbostel.  Land of the wild pigs at night, late night hot tubs, and quiet nurturing nature.

Photo by Michael Hartly.

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

← Older Entries
Newer Entries →