The more attention it gets, the more it offers,

will start to lead

to a new place,

and transform you.

Embrace the mystery, darkness, and suffering,

follow the threads,

slender though they be,

hold the tension

of opposites, while you continue to chop wood,

carry water,

merge opposites,

become the Self.

With thanks to Everett McLaren, Jungian Analyst, for his presentation on Alchemy and the Hero’s Journey October 9, 2014 at The Chrysalis Institute.

As soon as you lose all hope for changing others,

improving them,

informing them,

on what you think they should know,

you realize that it’s only you who can change,

who can open the gate,

for a new perspective

on what you thought you knew.

When you open yourself to what you fear, you can

open yourself

to what others

fear and change happens.

With  gratitude to my Wednesday morning tribe of women.

When my “old brain” boxes me in and sets a trap,

triggered by old

habits, reacts

with anger, fear,

strengthened by existing views of the world, seeking

safety, drawing

on memory,

resisting change,

my “new brain” waits patiently until I find the

energy, will

to create space,

start the practice.

With thanks to Kay and Phil Davidson, mindfulness teachers

When at last you think you have accepted what is,

as soon as you

bask in the glow

of evolvement,

something triggers a reaction you thought was gone,

and old hurts and

resentments come

spewing in such

profusion that you start drowning in them until

you remember

to stop and breathe

and let it go.

Sun-drenched country roads bring flashbacks

of my childhood,

the Sunday drives,

ups, downs, and curves,

shrieks of laughter from the back seat

as Dad sped up

for “stomach” bumps,

taking our breath.

No seat belts then to keep us from

slipping, sliding

across the seat

with childhood joy.

Sandpipers prance at water’s  edge, seagulls waiting

for crumbs to drop,

babies in sun hats,

waves in, waves out.

Boys on surfboards ride curling foam, slicing water,

wind whips umbrellas

inside out,

waves in, waves out.

Rum drinks sipped at end of day, chairs pulled up to water,

sandy feet and

relaxed bodies,

waves in, waves out.

What I wanted to say to you

when you walked in the room unannounced,

not even knocking first,

medical students in tow,

and proceeded as if we were not there …

We were there, a dying father, his wife, and two of his daughters.

We were not objects, we were humans,

and our father was not a body to be talked about but

a fellow human with a story,

a beloved physician with a bedside manner

that endeared him to his patients,

not just a sick old man.

It does not matter who he was or his station in life;

he could have been any man and every man.

Whoever he was, he and his family deserved some respect

and compassion.

That was years ago and now,

my only hope is that

somewhere along the journey

you have learned to respect and care for your patients and their families

the way my father did.

Farewell Robin, complex, gentle soul, no stranger

to depression.

Lonely childhood,

giving voices

to toy soldiers, overcoming shyness to pull

belly-shaking

laughter, tear-streaming

mirth from us all.

What could we have done to pull you through your sadness,

to heal your wounds,

to enclose you in

a circle of love?

The house settles back to its familiar self,

washer chugging, dryer spinning,

stillness pervades,

calmness returns.

Lying in bed remembering sounds of Ipads,

lab’s silky brow,

puppy licks, warmth,

grandsons, grand dogs,

Signed baseballs, shirts from Squirrels’ and Nationals’ games.

Missing chaos,

grateful for peace

at the same time.

.