A Miracle on February 5, 2009

My son is 32 today. Unbelievable. I felt like crying all day today at work because I haven't seen him or had a conversation with him in so long--eight months. Not for lack of trying. He is in his own world, whatever is going on for him means there is no time for me even for a phone call. I can't believe how much it hurts. He lives in the next town, practically. But today I tried not to dwell in self-pity, even though I kept wanting to cry. I tried to be grateful that he is alive, because where there's life there's hope. How incredibly horrendous for people whose children have died. So even though I kept hearing the words in my head "I'm the saddest mother in the world" I knew it wasn't true. The saddest mother is possibly someone in the Congo who was attacked and raped and had to watch her children tortured and raped and possibly murdered. So many horrible things in the world. I'm happy to know my son is alive and pretty healthy.

I texted him today again, wishing him a happy birthday. And a miracle--he answered my text. He said he was busy tonight but he would give me a call and loves me. It kind of turned my day around! Even though I know I might not get that call for some time, it still felt good. I texted back and told him even though I was sad not to talk to him or see him I was glad he was alive. Then he answwered THAT text and said he was glad to be alive too! He said he was having a good day, so getting older wasn't bothering him too much. Sweet.

The day he was born, it was night really, and we lived in the Berkshires and it was in the middle of a snowstorm. I'd been doing Lamaze training with a woman who was going to be my coach during the birth because his father was old school and didn't want to go into the delivery room with me. Anyway, the storm was terrible and we had to pick up my coach on the way to the hospital. It was late, and my doctor wasn't on call. I had a different doctor, the one I liked the least. And he said my labor wasn't really hard labor (seemed pretty damn hard to me) but there was no way we were going home. They started inducing. It seemed like it took forever. But he was born and it was mostly natural. There was some problem that I was unaware of--his cord was knotted at his neck and it took them a while to get him to breathe. His father heard them saying, "Breathe baby, breathe!" I luckily didn't hear this. They got him breathing though, and he got washed up and laid on me to try to feed (as I had requested). There was a moment when he opened up his eyes and just looked at me. We just grokked each other, if I can use a nerdy sci fi term, it seems the only one that applies. It was an "I thou" moment. My coach noticed the connection and commented on it.

He was a beautiful baby. I don't know how to describe him. Babies seem to take so much of us when we're mothering them, there's no way to step back and observe. But here's how it felt to me: he was beautiful, solid, headstrong, forceful, intelligent, tempermental, calm, spiritual, rambunctious, hungry. He was a force that entered our lives and made himself known. And yet he had an inner quiet that almost seemed like an old soul was in him. It all sounds so corny. I don't know how to describe someone I love so much, with all my heart.

Summer living is easy

So much has happened since I last wrote--the summer has been beautiful. One of the perks of being jobless--I can take a beach break whenever, almost!

Today it's rainy so I'm feeling more contemplative. I checked today and realized since I did the Tantric Yoga in May I've been doing two meditations for 95 days. My goal was 40 days plus, so I'm pretty happy I exceeded my goal. Maybe I'll go for 120 days. I started the Bound Lotus meditation at five minutes on each side in May--now I'm up to 15 minutes on each side. By the time I get to about 8 or 10 minutes into the second side, my feet and hands are falling asleep. But, like that girl in the TV show "Heroes" who can heal herself, it's amazing. Less than a minute after I'm out of the pose, feeling comes back into my feet and hands and everything is as if nothing happened. Is it helping me? I hope so. Bound Lotus is supposed to be very healing. When I get my blood pressure taken, it's always very good (nurses always seem surprised by it). The Tratakum, or gazing meditation, has been interesting. My mind still wanders, but my gaze is much more relaxed and steady. Sometimes I honestly see the face in the photograph (Yogi Bhajan's) seem to smile at me, as if to express something about some thought I'm having. Yes, I know. The mind can play tricks, and the eyes can too. But it's interesting, as if my subconscious is talking to me. I also added a prosperity meditation, which I've been doing for probably at least 40 days--I didn't write down when I began it.

I had a birthday in July. Nothing special but I did get a call from my daughter and she sang a little birthday song for me! That was a treat. I remember my parents always, always called me on my birthday and sang "Happy Birthday" to me. One on each extension, my father croaking out the tune as best he could. I would "suffer" through, embarrassed, but now I remember it as being so sweet. A tradition. I loved them and I miss them so much. I sure hope there is an afterlife and I can see them again.

I visited my brother in the Berkshires recently and also saw my ex-mother-in-law in the nursing home where she is staying now. She is losing it, mentally, but in many ways she's still the same. Chipper and smiling and praising her favorite great-grandchild. (Her favorite person, really.) I was glad to see her. I have missed her too.

Visited my parents' grave and brought them some flowers for a change. Who knows how long they'll last, although they are a hardy variety. Lately all I want to do is cry, and yet I see the beauty in this earth and the joy of the little things. The saying on my teabag this morning was "a smile is a great achievement." Or something like that.

The wicked witch

When I was in second or third grade, our school (the lower grades) put on the play "Sleeping Beauty." I was offered the part of the witch in the play. I was excited about it because that was a really good, significant part, much better than being a tree or a stagehand or something. But then my mother told me that one of the teachers directing the play told her they offered me that part because they knew I wouldn't complain about being the witch. It kind of took the thrill away from it. Oh, so I shouldn't be happy about being the witch? I should want to be Sleeping Beauty? It turned out, she was played by a very good friend of mine who had lovely long red hair. I wasn't envious of her for playing the main role, but I felt somehow cheated. It was because I was so docile and people-pleasing that I got the witch part. Kind of ironic.

That feeling comes up sometimes like a bad rash when I face certain relationship things, like when I make plans with a friend and she tries to rearrange them to accommodate someone else. I start seeing myself as the one who will bend, the one who will put my ego aside. I know this is a good thing, but sometimes I get mad when people expect it. It's back to the docile witch. No! I won't!

Recently I agreed to go to court with a friend if she needed support. But now the time has come and I'm seeing it as an invasion of my time (it means a trip to Boston, possibly and all day and into the evening thing? and she wants to stop at a Whole Foods on the way back). I have to be true to my word though, so I'm making an effort to go (giving up my early morning class that I loved last week). I need to just suck it up and stop feeling resentful, make the best of it, possibly take my laptop along and find a place with wi-fi, because it turns out she doesn't necessarily want me to go into the courtroom with her, just wants company on the ride, moral support, etc. She doesn't want me to go in the courtroom with her because she wants the person she's suing to view her as "strong." Whatever, as they say.

Keeping up, being kept up

Here's a picture from last summer, when I visited my cousin in Maryland we went to a special botanical garden and they had these awesome trumpet flowers. Just to set the mood.

I'm trying to keep up with my daily practice and to that end today I went to an early morning Hatha yoga class at the studio where I teach Kundalini yoga. Sometimes we find something that fits us so well, that answers such a need in ourselves so perfectly that we shut ourselves off to other methods or pathways. I have not ever experienced the results I seem to get from Kundalini yoga in other types of yoga classes (although, to be honest here, I haven't tried a lot of other types except for Hatha and "Power" yoga). But I loved the idea of getting up early for a class (and I get the class free). And I went with an open mind. The teacher, Eileen, is a very soothing presence. I feel like I learned a lot about my body in that class, and I was made aware of my need to improve in the balance aspect of the asanas. There's so much I don't know, and learning other forms can only enhance what I do know. So I feel like I entered the day in a good way, open minded, open hearted (if that can be a word). Now I'm at the computer, chipping away at my work, but I think I will go to the beach today and enjoy some sun.

Yogi Bhajan said the mantra for the Aquarian Age was "Keep Up" and added, "and you'll be kept up." I am letting go and turning more of my life over to a higher power, whatever that is. I have to trust, but I also have to use my head to take steps to improve my life and live my destiny.

Stay positive

I'm trying to stay positive, and let go of anything that's negative. Yesterday I took advantage of a beautiful day and enjoyed the weather and the geography. I went to the Cape Cod Canal and rollerbladed--only four miles. I would like to build up how far I go. Then in the afternoon I got to the beach--late afternoon so a lot of people were packing up and leaving. It was gorgeous. I got in the water and played, the waves were rolling along, not that high, but still rolling. A couple of ambitious or optimistic people came with surfboards. It was beautiful. The birds, the smells, the sounds. I could live on the beach.

So I still don't have my rent money, but I have faith that I will have it soon (today or tomorrow?). I live quite near a statue called "Faith" for short. How appropriate.

Full moon, solstice, blimp

It's hard not to love these long days as we approach the Summer Solstice. And though I haven't actually seen the full moon (it's waning now I guess) it sure has a pull. The party people are out early in the week, instead of just waiting for Friday night to start celebrating. The weather has been awesome, I finally got a check yesterday. Life is good. And the Good Year Blimp flew over my house yesterday. What an odd contraption--I love the strings hanging down in front that they have to use when it lands. Is this a sign from Heaven? Or at least, Akron!

Breathe from the navel

I am struggling with financial anxiety again (still). I felt that old familiar feeling of depression again today...It's a physical feeling, like a tightness at the back of my throat. But today I read in one of the yoga books that if you breathe from your navel, you "will not be depressed." I never quite buy it, depression can be clinical and severe, but trying the breathing can't hurt. Deepening the breath by inhaling and really feeling the tummy and abdomen expand and then slowly exhaling all the air out definitely is calming.

It will all be okay...I want to believe!