Engage in good health practices … CARE...Grieving

We received the email from my cousin Koa last night ... a family message to let us know the time and details of the memorial service for his elder sister Mokihana. It was one of the last things Pete did before coming to bed, and just one more reminder that our dear friend and cousin had indeed passed from that familiar body I have known all my life. The email stayed on the page as Pete stepped from the Vardo to brush his teeth and do going to bed things. I re-read the message, hearing Koa's organized voice modulated and even explaining what will happen, why it was happening and when it would all take place. He anticipated questions with answers and in true fashion ended with "If you don't already have a job, please call or email us ... thanks for everyone's willingess to jump right in." A voice mail with this same cousin's voice was on my cellphone when we drove into town where cellphone service happens. The same modulated voice with the message of Mokihana's passing was there, too. It's all too real, all true and of course, we have known the cancer was wide-spread and Mokihana's ika was spent.

If there is anything of value in pecking at keys that form words I hope to find it as I go along. Grief is physical, I tire from the work that is required to feel the sorrow and the gladness in all its modulations. Pete and I grieve differently, I notice how the stages of grief pitch up into the stage of anger as we pick at each other as if the fighting will make the other loss less important. A distraction? Maybe, or just a human condition that allows us to move through. As I hung over the edge of the futon reading and re-reading that email my mind bargained with my body: "If I get on a plane, arrange for oxygen, get a ...." Anything to make it possible for me to travel once more and arrive at a place that is already a proven no-go ... the bargaining just won't work. Travel back home is not a healthy choice for me or Pete. We have made those trips and know we do not have the health to do it again ... not now. This is the truth and it saddens us.

This is grief work.

Before we fall to sleep Pete talks about Mokihana again. He tries to remember the very first time he worked on her old Papakolea house: her sink was not working. It was the first of many other fix-it times for him in her houses. He would come to know my cousin and island family would become more and more real because of it. I recall the times of knowing when we were girls, teenagers, young women. We have know each other for a lifetime. Pete and I-- two old dears who create a life not familiar to our family back in Hawaii, grieve the loss of a cousin and grieve the reality that we will not be at that memorial gathering. The comfort and consolation that might come from the stories and energy must come in different ways for us. We have created rituals here and that is good.

The process moves in whirling ways. Current sadness passes and then there is a blast of radio from the outside kitchen ... a snip from the Newport California Jazz Festival "I'll take you there ..." the Staple Sisters. "I love that song!" Pete says through the window in the front door. Yah, there you go. Maybe a Sunday drive will take us into town where cellphone service happens. Maybe I will call family and talk for awhile. Maybe. I'll take you there.

LISTEN WITH YOUR WHOLE BODY ... listen respectfully

The wind has brought cool air and a shower of rain to the Ledge and most of the area between Seattle and the peninsula upon which we live. If you shared this morning with us you would hear the high treetop choir of wind sweeping Makani, a sound that is deeper and fully than the ringing within my me. It's very cool on my feet as I peck away on the keys, this old laptop is now sharing space with the toaster oven and the kettle burner. Adjustments to our living are sometimes simple ... when my opu rumbles for a bit of a snack I easily reach for the dish of freshly picked strawberries, warm the kettle for a third cup of tea or toast a slice of bread just a step away.

We enjoyed a full day after the 4th of July and languished in the tiredness of travelling the night before. To celebrate we left the Ledge, expecting the bombs bursting in the air from fireworks in the neighborhood. Rather than sealing up the Vardo against the sound and smoke we packed up Scout with food and drink and drove along the canal shore roads of the Kitsap Peninsula. The day was pleasant, we listened to each other, told stories of places and people from our pasts and road with an easy pace. When our route took us to Kingston we paid our fare ... increasingly more money as the summer sets in and boarded the ferry Puyallup heading for Edmonds. I choose to ride the ferry from the small comforting space of the car rather than climb the stairs to be with the other riders and the smells that taint. Pete and I were parked in the lane near the rails on the car deck, a perfect spot to lean over and enjoy the ride and feel the incredible gentle ride across Puget Sound. The captain of this ferry was sure and slow about his or her departure from the docks. The movement was nearly undiscerned ... we were out and cutting waves before we knew. We ride ferries often in this life we live from the Ledge. This ride was one of the most gentle of rides in many years. We huddled together and enjoyed the company and the warmth of a summer afternoon.

Our destination was Everett, a town we have known for decades. The old mill town is home to friends we have loved for a long time. They have housed us during hard times and kept our best interests close as life has cycled up and down. We do the same for them and without doubt that caring sustains a friendship and we listen to each others tales, laugh at our moibles and those of other humans we know. There on the sidewalk of the old mill town our friends joined me, their masked and sensitive old pal who cannot be inside their house. We chatted, gossiped and laughed. Desserts on small white dishes were served and for that I lowered my mask, until the rockets and fireworks of the city's annual display filled the sky. It was a surreal experience. When the smoke had reached the point where my tolerance meters read "Enough" I said, "I've gotta go into the car." My friend and I did a modified hug ... knowing the hair spray and scent she wore (she had been to the parade and taken herself outside for the day) would not be approachable. I stayed up wind from her as we talked. "I'll tell Pete you're heading in." Compromises and adjustments are made all the time. Life is like that. These friends have made hundreds of adjustments for us when we lived with them as a place of refuge. Sometimes they don't adjust to my needs. Then, it's up to me to adjust. Masks work, meditations that include the rings of protection and mindfullness help. I listen to my body, hold my face in a comforting image and remind her ... "It's all right dear soul," when the requirements of one more adjustment must be made. "Stay, still ... all is well." I waved a good-bye from the air conditioned safety of Scout and watched the fireworks. America. The anthem of which is filled with 'rockets red glare and the bombs bursting in air ..." It's an odd legacy of warfare bred into the fibers of a nation that makes for a perilous flight. Maybe just as Anna Paint suggested, "If Pete Seger's This Land is My Land was America's anthem things could be different ..." I listened with that thought as she said it. It resonated gently with me. Sitting in the car that July 4th night, I wished something like that would truly be the way America listened to it's birth lullaby. Perhaps the First People would wish something different again. I listen to the treetops sing and don't reach a word ...

Keep a keen sense of observation … NOTICE

Summer has found itself comfortable here on The Ledge. Simple things take place at the moment, appreciating the cycles of life through the observation of the Moon Calendar I take time to notice. The past four days of the Hawaiian Moon Calendar (check out the sidebar for more on the Hawaiian Moon Calendar) were the 'ole days ... times when Pete and I restore and slow even more. Living on the Ledge in the Woods is priming us for a life more in sync with natural patterns. Pete and our friend "Anna Paint" who shares her land with us are playing Scrabble. It's a routine the two old dears engage in to pass time companionably, and in the process something happens with the synapses in their brains. Across the strawberry fields I hear them in Scrabble conversation ... not hearing them exactly I simply notice they are engaged.

The mid-morning sky is delicious ... clear, and exquisite a background to the tall rising firs growing slowly around the Vardo. Our lives include many journeys; some extensive and repetitive others tiny and almost unnoticed. With the challenges of living with a long-term and surprising illness like chemical sensitivities and environment illness the quiet moments and still times need a different sort of attention. Without the cloak of defensiveness I notice my body is disoriented: like at night when the light of sun, street lights that are completely void here, and the empty night sky. It is so completely dark within the walls of our Vardo I seek the flannel curtain and draw it back just a bit to give me perspective. Claustrophophia? Perhaps, or maybe a bread crumb ... simply reaching for the bread crumb in my familiar fairy tale of a transforming life.

An update and seven-day report on Bounce and Shaking. It really works wonders. It's fun, moves lymph like the massages that I've not been able to have for years and I had a chance to share the simple jirations with our MCS Seattle friends. So, early this week in a North Seattle Park three friends and I did the Bounce and Shake moves. Two minutes of movement and goofiness. And then stillness, notice the tingling. "That's the lymph moving!" "That's amazing. That's all it takes?" "I believe so." "Wow." The 'ole days of the moon happen approximately ever 2-3 weeks and are a perfect time to restore and attend to the maintainence I lose track of for any number of reasons. I notice the small routine fits gently into my day without extreme, adds a quality of goodness that I can feel and is easily shared with friends.

Lovely morning.

Bounce and Shake ... a good health practice idea

I collect a lot of toxins and toxics during a day, and don't exercise regularly. There's no excuse for that, life simply gets full and yet I know my body needs to move. I'm a Scorpio woman and in the view of astrology Pluto, the ruling planet of Scorpio went retrograde in April and will be in retrograde until early September of 2009. This is an excellent time to re-view and reassess my choices and my relationships with this dear self. I found this article while linking from one site to another. It's something I'm going to try this today in our wee wheelie house and then outside in the blustery air.

Here's the link to the entire article on Lymph Health on Lynn Koiner's Website.

EXERCISE: While all exercise stimulates the lymph, jumping on the rebounder is the best. If you do not have room for a rebounder, a jump-and-shake exercise works just as well. With feet slightly apart, you jump just a little and then shake the body. It is similar to dancing in African tribes that bob-and-shake type of dance.

The bounce and shake routine gets your heart pumping and your body moving so that your metabolism starts working. Follow the following steps to do the bounce and shake:

Standing with knees slightly bent, feet comfortably apart, bounce up and down easily without lifting heels off the ground
As you bounce, let your arms hang, relaxed, by your side. Shake your hands

Nod your head up and down in a comfortable range of motion, 2 to 4 inches
As you nod back and look up, breathe in through your nose to the count of 5, and then exhale to the count of 5 as you lower your head

During the first minute, breathe through your nose; During the second minute make a noise originating from the base of your throat – like snoring; Then breathe in through your nose, and out through puckered lips, as if blowing out a birthday candle.

Stop bouncing and shaking. Take a moment to feel the vibrations you have created throughout your body.

ATTENTION: The superficial lymphatic system is located in the sub-dermal layer just beneath the skin. It is continuous throughout the entire body — There are also deep lymphatic systems but by working on the superficial lymphatic system, you can affect drainage throughout the entire lymphatic system.

Flowing: Practice Patience and Endurance ... timing is divine

Pete and I drove to the Pacific Ocean shore of Washington State last Sunday to celebrate a bit of mastery with practicing patience and endurance. I wrote about it on our other blog VFT. This morning the sensation of being here ... on the Ledge as the weather swiftly proceeds around and through this upland wood is pure grace. The clouds have some where to be, they move across the sky from east to west racing to some unseen destination. Or, maybe they simply race. The air is freshened by the race, a little rain has doused us with moisture but mostly the wind is primary.

This lifestyle we live as modern day Gypsies separates us from so many things and many people. In a common day the separating incidents are more than enough to turn a soul to stone. I watch my darling partner endured one more exposure in the pursuit of an ordinary goal: shopping/in-building bank. Though Pete is less sensitive to chemicals than I he is nonetheless a Sensitive. We wade through the process of unraveling separately and as a pair and as the grief rises like fermentation from raw milk or a batch of kim chee we are pitched by the brain fog or weakness and flow somewhere else. A treasured member of our ohana (kin) waivers between the realms of physical and spiritual life, she is with her sons and hospice care givers back on O`ahu. If we could be on the island we would be with her physically. We cannot so we connect through the cell phone and I tell her, "I'll love you forever." A message from her left on Pete's cell phone "See you later alligator" remains until technology erases it. This cousin has shared her self and her love with thousands of people, young students, troubled families and spiritually disconsolate souls. She has been unselfishly giving in all these years. "Maybe she should have been just a little more selfish sometimes," my brother said yesterday when we talked of this Makua O`o ... our cousin. The grief of separation is real. It is one of the deep emotions the sort of emotion that is expressed in such different fashion among our kin of humans. I feel the loss and purposefully give it my cousin's scent and allow myself the tears, listen to the music of the islands and then turn most of the rest of the grief over to Ke Akua. At least until the next time.

We went to the ocean to hear the roar of the Pacific. We went to celebrate the dream that has become manifest. We went to remember those who are separate from us and yet are never far enough to not love forever. Writing here I am reminded of the divinity of timing. We went to the ocean and found a new o'o and today I'm here back at the page of this blog to use it. "I'll love you forever R. Mokihana."

Do your best in all things … BELIEVE YOUR BEST IS ENOUGH.

From over the edge On the Ledge, this old Nurse Log is holding up a chunk of The Ledge and giving new life to tiny trees just starting out.


Shifting Makua O`o

Happy Mother's Day, mothers. It has been a while since posting here at Makua O`o, our life in a wheeled home takes a lot of energy. Simplicity is conscious, and it is not without lots of effort. To make wise use of my energy and time I will consolidate blogging and post only on VARDOFORTWO ... at least for this next little while.

Spirit is in everything I do, and it seems the message is ... simply be with it. So, join me back on VardoForTwo and I will make space for the spiritual practice of an elder in training there ... On the Ledge in the Woods.

Listen … with your whole body … LISTEN RESPECTFULLY

Aloha,

We are officially living from within our tiny, beautiful VardoForTwo. Life is a series of events, many comedic beyond imagination, tragic if not taken with humor. Pete and I have been a week in the woods with the company of frogs, fairies and the resident culture of Tahuya, Washington.

Life has become even more purposeful ... each decision affects the next. We sleep inside our safe cave and must consciously decide how to maintain a clean inside while cooking, washing, being with the weather and the woods. Washington is wet ... we learn to cover and clean everything outside. We learn that self-sufficiency is a full time job and it just doesn't get done ... it just is.

JOTS our kitty is loving the woods and has had adventures with the lake dogs, finds plenty to hunt and is finding she could easily be lunch. She and I do trail walks almost every day and I have discovered she loves to wrap around my shoulders and neck like a scarf and would climb into my hair if given permission.

Being in a vardo is like being on a boat ... it sways and moves on a sea of air and movement is ever present. I listen to my body as she feels the reassembling of a life. It's a good story. I write from the library for now, until internet becomes possible in the woods, take good care friends, followers and family.

From the ledge in the woods we send aloha! Mokihana and Pete