Still, I Fall

Black is the color

of my true love’s hair

His face is like

A rose so fair

He’s got the sweetest face

And the strongest hands

I love the ground

Whereon he stands…

~ Black is the Color

Irish Folk Song (modified for “him”)

Ah, Amore!  The agony.  The joy!  The blush of new love, the rush of romance; thinking of your beloved each moment of the day, imagining his hands touching every part of your body; anxiously awaiting the next conversation, the next kiss.  Falling in love is the easy part—any fool can do it—but staying in love, I think, calls us to fall in love again and again over the lifetime of our togetherness.   

I want to remember it all—each moment of awareness, each insight into his depth, each time my heart breaks open, just a bit wider, softened by the light of what’s real and true and vulnerable between us.  Like these five moments that pulled me in a little deeper, reminding me why I fell for my sweetheart; f-a-l-l-i-n-g in love all over again.

1. It’s both.  When he met my Grandmother I wasn’t quite sure what to expect.  But there he sat, knee-to-knee with the matriarch of our family, as she fired off question after question in her gentle, southern way.  “What do you do for a living?” “How long have you two been courting?” “Who are your people and will we like them?”  He answered each question with patience and care, and when she asked, “Is this a real thing or a play thing?”  He responded, “It’s both!”  Yes, he was serious about our relationship, he told her, but we also played and had a lot of fun together too.  Hearing this, my 80-something Grandmother took his hands in hers and just laughed and laughed. I. Fell. Madly. Deeply.

2.  Bald for a cause.  A participant with St. Baldrick’s Foundation, my sweetheart has been shaving his head to raise money for child cancer research for more than seven years.  This year he will be anointed a Knight of the Bald Table for his many years of service.  I love his philanthropic nature. I’ve known this about him since we first met while volunteering at Children’s Hospital.  But last spring as I watched him on stage getting his head shaved before a cheering crowd of friends and supporters, he glowed.  In that moment I understood what my friend Jenna meant when she described another as being made of “wind and light.”  He was.  It made me love him more.

3.  Minding the mundane.  We had big snow that day so I worked from home.  But under pressure of a big deadline at work, he ventured down the canyon in the dark of morning where he stayed all day.  Yet, after a tiring day at work, traveling in hazardous conditions, he stopped at the market for groceries and picked up dinner before heading back home.  As he helped me unpack the shopping bags, stocking our fridge with fresh organic produce, my heart melted in adoration for the Man who takes such good care of me. They say, in love, we each feel like we're the lucky one. I knew that I was. He minds the mundane with a patient and glad heart. I will never take that for granted. 

4.  Spooning the Furry.  I heard him in the bedroom one Saturday morning, speaking in low tones.  I thought he might be on the phone.  I had been in the kitchen cleaning up after breakfast and as I started towards the bedroom I saw them together, lying on the floor spooning.  “You’re such a good doggie,” he said, stroking the Furry’s head; “We love you so much.”  The dog was in bliss! I stood there watching them, bathed in sunlight from the open window, just hanging out together, until he saw me in the doorway and gave me a smile. I thought my heart would break.

5.  The brightest light.  For our first married Christmas together, I found a fabulous tree.  I had been busy that day decorating and making the house more festive when he took off for town.  He returned a while later with excitement.  “Look what I found,” he said, unpacking his shopping bags and lining the counter with two-dozen soft white LED candles.  Then he carefully placed one in each window of the house, even the super high windows close to the top of the cathedral ceiling in the living room that required a ladder to reach.  As I watched him move about with enthusiasm, to me, he was the brightest light of all.  I could not have loved him more.  Or could I?

Day by day, in a thousand ways, still, I fall…

Bridging the Gap

Here's to the crazy ones. 

The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. 

The round pegs in the square holes.

The ones who see things differently.

They're not fond of rules. 

And they have no respect for the status quo.

You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them.

About the only thing you can't do is ignore them. 

Because they change things.

They push the human race forward.

And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius.

Because the people who are crazy enough 

to think they can change the world, are the ones who do.

~Apple, Inc.

I think most of the time what we really want is a little bit of peace and quiet, a little bit of tranquility, prosperity, understanding, relaxation and just the feeling that we’re okay.  And often what we get is a whole bunch of aggravation, irritation, confrontation, conflict, difficulty, challenge, and, well, one sort of problem after another despite our desire for comfort and ease.  Before we know it, this dis-ease pulls us this way and that in conflicting directions.  So we have to ask ourselves, am I going to take the bait and allow this to consume me, or am I somehow going to rise above it?  Yet, even when we do nothing there’s this nagging feeling that we cannot do what we would like to do about these factors, which exacerbates things quite intensely. 

On the one hand we may feel that we want to make a clear and determined move to do something about “it”—drawing a line in the sand, making a point and saying, no, I don’t want to have this anymore; yes, I want to sort this out; I want to move on from this; I want to clear this up and I want to change something that can’t possibly continue for another moment in its current form.  This desire for change is both admirable and appropriate, because it’s what spurs us into action.  The opportunity for change always exists when we leave the door open. Yet the speed at which change can come about is the unknown factor.  If we push too hard too fast, not only do we face extreme burnout and disappointment, we’re likely to miss something critical to our long-term success; maybe we leave behind someone or something that ought to come with us on the next leg of our journey.  Perhaps we end up with dissent instead of support.  On the other hand, if we do nothing and they do nothing and we just sit around waiting for change to happen, it will most surely continue to elude us.

Keep this in mind as you consider your own goals, resolutions and, perhaps, shortcomings in the new year, and as we look to our leaders to make it all better following the Fifty-Seventh Presidential Inauguration and the swearing in of President Barack Obama to a second term in office.  

Real change—thoughtful change—takes time.  It doesn’t happen without some effort.  The longer I live and the more I experience of the world the more I tend to side with the science fiction writers who have long maintained that time is not necessarily a linear thing.  We see it as something that has a beginning, middle, and an end; we see the past as something to move away from as we step into the future.

But perhaps time isn’t such a straight shot.  Maybe it’s more of a circular thing or a twisty swirly thing and instead of darting ahead, trying to get from where we are now to where we think we need to be by forging the quickest, most direct path forward, we should be looking back to our past, to our history, and re-examining some things that we thought were done, re-reading some case files that we thought were closed, to see what else might be there for us to learn from; with the goal of understanding how by re-writing our history or changing our perspective from what’s gone before we can empower ourselves, individually and collectively, for the future.

So take a deep breath and another deep breath and then one more.  Never mind about moving anywhere quickly.  We must ask ourselves, what can wait?  Why can’t it wait?  What must be handled right now?  I’m not suggesting a course of apathy or retreat, but rather that we pace ourselves and get it right.  Remain calm.  And put our confidence into something that we have every reason to be confident about, namely, about our ability to bring about the right kind of change at the right time.  We may not get it all at once but great change is attainable when we’re committed to finding a solution.

From Where I've Been

To journey without being changed

is to be a nomad.

To change without journeying

is to be a chameleon.

To journey and to be transformed by the journey

is to be a pilgrim.

~Mark Nepo

Photo courtesy of Lori Kennedy © 2012.

I read this story once about a woman who called herself “Peace Pilgrim.”  In 1952 she became the first woman to walk the entire length of the Appalachian Trail in one season.  Shortly after that she began her walk for peace, vowing to “remain a wanderer until mankind has learned the way of peace, walking until given shelter and fasting until given food.”  For almost three decades she walked back and forth across the United States, with no money and only the clothes on her back, walking more than 25,000 miles before her death.  She was always fascinated that her needs were met.  “Aren’t people good,” she would say.[1]

She spoke to anyone who would listen about the big peace picture:  peace among nations, peace among groups, and that all too elusive inner peace because she believed that was where peace began.  In the course of her pilgrimage she touched the lives of thousands of people with her message, and many of them inspired her as well. 

I love the story she told about a small, remote village she visited where she found a group of people with a unique way of dealing with conflict.  When a person in the village violated the natural laws or had intense conflict with another, the locals would gather in the town center, form a circle around the offender, and one by one they would recount every good deed, act of kindness and contribution to the community made by that person.  There was no punishment or finger pointing or harsh judgment, only kindness.  And as a result, their community thrived without the need for jails or local police.  Generally, they had very little conflict among them.  

Innovative conflict resolution aside, when I think about the devotion that allowed Peace Pilgrim to live this mission I am overwhelmed by the truth that I have never been so dedicated to any one thing in my life.  Sure, I’ve been interested in things and fascinated by people and places.  I’ve championed a few causes.  I’ve dabbled in this creative endeavor and that; I’ve explored this career path, then that; but never have I devoted myself to any one person or purpose to the exclusion of all others.   In a way, I’ve had one foot out the door; one eye cocked in search of the next great thing, certain that I would miss “it” if I settled on just one.

A curious realization as I prepare to join my beloved at our ceremonial alter this New Year’s Eve and make the single-most significant declaration of love and commitment so far in my lifetime. As I contemplate the vows we will be taking—the vows I will be making on our wedding night—among the most important, I think, will be my vow of happiness, not just for that day or in the weeks and years that follow when the fire of romance burns hot and bright, but everyday no matter the weather.  In so doing, I also choose myself. 

Not that I have been unhappy by nature; to the contrary. Yet I, as you, sometimes feel isolated and unsure even when surrounded by love and beauty, waiting for things to be just so.  But in waiting, I find, my attention to happiness slips and my experience of life and connections with people become obscured.

So as I move from where I’ve been, walking towards a new year, a new chapter, and a whole new life with my sweetheart by my side, I begin this pilgrimage of happiness.  I will not wait for some future moment for all to be right in the world—for countries to quit fighting, for financial markets to stabilize, for the environment to be protected, for everyone to act right and do right and play nice--or for the pieces of my puzzle to fit perfectly in place. From this moment forward I am a pilgrim for the cause, and I will choose those life-affirming friendships and experiences that support my journey to move beyond the pettiness that breeds discontent and that tendency that we all share to change or hide the truth of our hearts so that we may please others or avoid pain.  

In this I honor that sacred place: the deep well of happiness within, always present and waiting to be rediscovered.  

Isn’t that why we’re here?

As we inch closer to 2013, I wish you all safe journeys and a very HAPPY New Year!

 _______________________

[1]  Peace Pilgrim:  Her Life and Work in Her Own Words, © 1992; published by Ocean Tree Books. 

Be the Mountain Goat...

Her great merit is finding out mine…

~Lord Byron

Mountain Mystic.  © 2010 by Melissa Johnson.

I met John while living in San Francisco.  Quickly, he became my friend-spiritual guide-and-massage therapist all rolled into one.  Such magic in those hands, such wisdom in his understanding—after one session I was hooked. 

Trained in the healing arts of Chinese medicine, John began each session with a simple question:  “What’s going on?”  This meant that he wanted a brief State of the Union on my physical, emotional, spiritual and mental health because, to him, it was all connected. 

During the time I lived in the city, I met with John every week.  Through our conversations and his amazing body work I began to experience shifts in consciousness on many levels, but none more compelling than my understanding of what it means to be discerning.  We spent hours talking about life paths—his, mine and those of our friends.  We dissected, analyzed, and waxed poetic about love.

Then one day, while discussing my relationship with a man whom I loved deeply but who lacked certain core qualities that I wanted in a partner, John suggested that the key to my dilemma could be found by taking on the persona of the female mountain goat.  

You see, female mountain goats—or nannies, as they’re called—will climb to the top of a mountain peak and sit there.  She’s holding out for the billy with certain qualities—like horn symmetry; and short sturdy legs with a heavy body; top-of-the-line hooves to help him move about the rocky ledges; and, of course, social rank because this will determine his access to resources.  

© 2010 by Melissa Johnson.

Below her, all the billies are doing their male mountain goat thing—snorting, bleating, locking horns, fighting, pushing each other around in an effort to win her.  Some of the billies are killed or give up and move along in search of greener pastures.  But the strong contenders continue their ascent to claim the prize at the top of the mountain. 

They battle all the way, trying to edge each other off the rocky cliffs as they charge ahead.  But no matter what, no matter which billy she may fancy from afar, no matter what’s happening to him below, she does not reach down and help him up in his journey to win her.  Instead, she waits on her mountain perch and allows her suitors to exercise their determination and strength, for only those who make it to the top win a chance of partnership with her.  Then she gets to choose.

It all made perfect sense.

Now I’m not suggesting that men are the same as male mountain goats, although I must admit that I have witnessed some behavioral similarities.  Nor am I advocating that women (or men) just accept whoever shows up in their lives as “the one” by virtue of the fact that he (or she) beat a path to their door—that could get pretty creepy. 

And certainly in this day and age the need to select partners based on purely physical or biological characteristics has diminished; though let’s face it, the dictates of “survival of the fittest” lie innate within us.  So in a sense, I guess we all prefer a little horn symmetry.

But John’s mountain goat metaphor brought great clarity and the shift in intention I needed.  For months I had been riding the fence of indecision, torturing myself with what could have been fairly simple… if I was honest about my needs and desires.  And like the flick of a switch, suddenly all that was once dark and seemingly unknowable became illuminated by the light of my heartfelt truth. 

So I started applying this wisdom to every part of my life—personal and professional—and soon found myself initiating some major life changes, beginning with the end of my relationship and ending with a brand new career path. 

It hasn’t been easy.  At times I have second-guessed my decisions and the overall direction of my life.  Some of that’s natural, I suppose.  Just so, before I made any real progress, I had to revisit my ideas about what I thought it meant to be “successful” and make peace with the notion that I was my own greatest block when it came to creating the life I desired. 

And I learned to recognize that while people and situations show up in our lives often when we need them most, that doesn’t mean that every relationship, job or experience is meant to last forever.  Some things fall away because we’ve outgrown them or we need to be available for something else.  But we’ll never find that “something else” if we’re clinging desperately to that “not-quite-right-what is” because we’re afraid of change. 

Ultimately, discernment is the lens through which we make choices.  It does not mean that we're judging people and opportunities from a position of superiority.  Rather, it is to tune into the soul’s wisdom as we discriminate between this option and that, truthfully evaluating what’s before us while engaging our intuition about what’s best for our lives.  No easy task, to be sure.

Perhaps Steve Jobs said it best:

“You’ve got to find what you love.  And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers.  Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work.  And the only way to do great work is to love what you do.  If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking.  Don’t settle.  As with all matters of the heart, you’ll know when you find it.  And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on.  So keep looking until you find it.  Don’t settle.”

BE THE MOUNTAIN GOAT.