Yes, we can create a world of compassion.

Yes, we can trust people we don't know.

Yes, we can make it through these challenges.

Yes, we can have a good life together on this planet.

Yes, we can.



I'm amazed at how long its been since I felt hope on a national and global scale.  It's almost a distant memory...and yet, it's familiar and welcoming, like coming home.

I started working on my first few doula training assignments after Rora went to sleep last night (and after I woke up 2 hours later, after falling asleep nursing her).

One of the first assignments was to write about an experience of someone dying, and look for similarities with the process of birth.  After writing until 2am, I realized that it's Halloween today!  What a treat, to be exploring death on the day we honor the spirits that have crossed over!

Here's what I wrote:

I was able to be with my maternal Grandma in the last two days of her life, through her death, and afterwards with my family as we processed the experience.  Being with her as she transitioned out of her body brought me to a deeper awareness of that sacred time between the spirit world and the physical world – and in fact, taught me tangibly that there isn't such a clear distinction!

She was in a bed provided by hospice, set up in the living room of my aunt's house.  We tried to make that space quiet and focused, but too often we became chatty and irreverent – and she clearly let us know that it was “TOO MUCH!”.  She didn't like people casually talking or moving too quickly.  She wanted things done to her slowly, ever slower.  She wanted water, right up to her last hours, after she had refused food and medicine for days.  She wanted sunshine, and fresh air in the room.  Over the last two days, she wanted less and less restricting her body – first the pillows around her had to be a certain way, then no blankets covering her legs, then her shirt needed to be unbuttoned, then it came off altogether.  The oxygen tube around her neck was a constant irritation, and we finally removed it so she could be more comfortable.  She was adamant that she didn't want anything to prolong her death – “Why is it taking so LONG?”

She often seemed frustrated when we didn't understand what she was talking about, when she spoke out in the midst of a trance/sleep state.  She was experiencing something that none of the rest of us were experiencing, and we could often only guess at what she meant.  When we “got it”, she was clearly relieved and grateful.  She liked to be sung to, and gently touched.  She didn't want to be alone.  She wanted to make sure she wasn't being a burden to any of us, and at the same time, she clearly asked for what she wanted and needed.  “I might never taste carrot juice again if I don't get some now!” Her social inhibitions mostly evaporated, making clear requests without politeness.  “I'm being myself for the first time.”

The day she died, the energetic shift in the hours beforehand was tangible to all of us on some level, though I don't know how consciously.  We didn't know she was going to die that day, but we all made significant changes that, looking back, indicated some awareness that everything was changing.  We spoke more softly, moved cellphones out of the room, and cleared the bedside clutter that had accumulated, replacing it with a few photographs and flowers.  We hung a blue curtain in the window, to soften the light.  Two of my aunts spent the day finding peace with each other, and were honoring each other over my grandma's body when she took her last breath.

In the moments immediately after her heart stopped beating, we gathered in the room and celebrated her transition.  One aunt yelled “Hallelujah!” in a loving mimic of my faith-filled grandma.  I felt her spirit throughout the room, filling the space in a slow expansion.  I felt her on my body, in my body, and growing to encompass and permeate the whole house, then the city and the mountains and the globe and the stars and eventually the Whole Universe.  As I felt her spirit, I felt a taste of that Wholeness, an awareness that the only difference between the physical world and the spirit world is a perceived experience of the limitations of space and time.

I see clear parallels between death and birth after being with Grandma through her journey: the absolute need for sacred space, the slowing of time, the need for us to let her do and be and say whatever she needed and wanted to.  We were there to serve her, to honor her, and to witness her journey.  We responded to her requests and tried to intuit what she might want, but never forced her to do something that we thought she should do.  I guess the big difference between birth and death is that once you know someone is dying, there's no need to fear death, or work to prevent it.  With birth, there remains the possibility (and thus the fear?) that the mother or baby could die, so we walk the balance between pursuing life and accepting death... while with someone ready to die, it's just about surrender.

But then again, maybe birth is a different kind of surrender -- surrendering to life.

I just received my doula training course materials in the mail today -- yahoo!  Perfect timing, after spending the day at Twin Oaks with Summer, due to give birth within the next few weeks.  I'll be supporting her during her labor, and today's visit with her re-affirmed my passionate commitment to this work.  It's begun!



The additional update is that the "fund SWAP" idea was a whopping success -- enough money was donated for me to sign up for the course, purchase the books, AND possibly even take another course.  Beyond the money, the show of support has solidified my belief in community in all forms -- not just groovy communes where people self-govern and process their feelings, but also the basic web of connectedness that comes from being human together.

Tonight I went to a healing circle for a friend who has cancer, and it involved all of us (eight women) reflecting on our own journeys, finding our own answers to our current "life questions" and seeing how they related to her journey.

My answer was clear (the question is irrelevant): there is no reason for me to hide who I Am, and every reason to shine.  I am powerful in sharing my Truth, and weak when I hesitate or hold back.  The question isn't "what do I have to do to serve others?"... instead I move forward with the confidence that following my inspirations will serve in ways I can't imagine or (have the arrogance to believe that I) control.  My path isn't for me to "figure out" -- it's there for me to open to.  When I feel the inspiration, I simply have to follow it...

We all left the circle feeling centered in our sense of connection with something larger than us -- and that in itself is healing for us all.  (One of the women recalled a saying that the shift from illness to wellness takes shifting from "I" to "WE"!)

I think people love babies so much because they irresistably bring us into the present moment, and they tend to make the present moment pretty darn enjoyable!  This is my daughter's lesson to me today (and all days) -- to slow down, to look around, to drink in each moment (as I interact directly with her *and* as I thin carrots while she plays on a nearby blanket, and as I write now while she explores the bedroom).  Thanks, Aurora, for this gift.

I love my daughter.

If you're here to donate to the Doula Training fund, you can scroll down to Saturday's post for the "Donate" button.  Or read on, anyways!

This experiment in voluntary resource-sharing is exciting to me.  In some ways it feels like Indiana Jones stepping out onto the invisible bridge (which movie was that? The Last Crusade?)... I *believe* that people want to support each other in pursuing their passions, the things that make them come alive.  I'd even be willing to say that I believe it's part of "human nature" to want to support each other.  The "invisible" part of this bridge is that there aren't many practical, established practices to do this.  Beyond Christmas and birthdays, American culture doesn't encourage "gifting"... quite the opposite, in fact!  "Pull yourself up by your bootstraps!"

And asking for help is discouraged, a sign of weakness.  After sending out the request for donations on Friday night, I had moments of doubt and insecurity.  "Am I being greedy?"  "Am I being lazy?"  I settled on a decided "NO".  I'm stepping out onto the web of connectedness to show that it is strong, ready to support people who need it -- and not just in moments of crisis, but also in moments of opportunity.  And the moments in between, too, the mundane moments when a hug or a smile just feels good.

I have a spark, and an idea.

Since giving birth in April, I've been thinking about training to become a doula, offering non-medical assistance to women during pregnancy, childbirth, and afterwards.  Doulas offer both emotional and practical support, and I'm brimming with ideas of ways I might serve women in this sacred journey.

A friend of mine who recently left Twin Oaks just told me that she's begun a correspondence doula training course, and we talked about the power of doing the coursework together.  I looked at the course overview online, and got very excited.  Birth Arts International (BAI) takes a wholistic, mother-led approach to birth, using herbal medicine and the woman's own wisdom as guides for care.

The website mentioned that scholarships are sometimes available, and I wrote this email:

> I'm writing to request a scholarship for the Doula Certification correspondence course.  I'm passionate about encouraging women to trust their bodies' wisdom, using all their senses and letting go of embarrassment about natural body functions.  I teach a workshop about "body taboos" that encompasses anything from body odor to wrinkles -- whatever the women in the group want to explore.  Becoming a doula feels like a natural extension of this work, especially since I've now had the experience of childbirth!  I'm a mom to a 5 month old girl, born at home with a midwife.  I was really disappointed with some of what my midwife did during the birth, and that strengthened my desire to serve other women in their births.

>

> I need a scholarship to help pay for the course because we live very simply and have no extra money beyond our monthly bills.  We grow a lot of our own food, and barter for things we can't pay for.  If there's a way I could serve BAI in exchange for the scholarship, I'd be happy to!  Program promotion and text editing are two possibilities that come to mind...

> Please let me know if you need more information from me.

>

> best wishes,

> tickledspirit

The next day I received a message from the program telling me that I had a scholarship for any of their programs I wanted to take!

The scholarship covers $100 of the $350 Doula Certification course.  In thinking through ways to get the rest of the money, I had an idea...

If 25 people each donated $10 towards this course, I'd be able to do it.  I mentioned this to several of my friends and family who immediately agreed.  Then I broadened my view, imagining that other friends will one day be in this same position of wanting something passionately, without the funds to pursue it.

So I offer this idea to you.  I'm calling it a Fund SWAP (Supporting Wishes And Passions).  $10 every now and then is nothing compared with a few hundred dollars at once.  If you feel inspired, please support me in doing this Doula Certification program.  When you have a project you need funding for, send an email describing the project to your friends and family (including me!), and give us the chance to fund your passion.

(I'm using PayPal for this endeavor -- it seems the easiest and most convenient.  Clicking the "Donate" button will take you to a page where you'll indicate how much you want to donate, by what method (if you don't have a PayPal account, you can also use a credit card).  Or, if you want, you can send me a check in the mail!)

Aurora is asleep in bed next to me, and I'm typing on the laptop I inherited from my Grandma a week and a half ago.  Today I found a refreshed determination to WRITE.  This is my mode of self-reflection and of engagement with the world around me -- this is how I've learned to go deeper in my understanding of my experience... and that's exactly what I need right now.

And blogging, different than journaling, holds me to a standard of keeping it *relevant* -- not just bellybutton gazing and self-sympathizing.  With blogging, I keep thinking of the reader asking "so what?".  How does my experience relate to the larger world?  That's a big piece I feel myself missing these days, as I putter around the house with Rora in the sling, washing dishes and laundry for a whopping 5 people (compared to the 100+ people I used to serve with my daily actions).  I keep asking myself "so what?"... and rarely come up with a satisfactory answer.

This lifepath is turning out to be boring, lonely, and frustrating... I spend too many hours alone with 5 month old Aurora, without people to bounce ideas off of or to provide fodder for my mental and emotional growth.  These days, I feel incredibly stagnant.

AND, at the same time, I feel the fire burning in me, the passion just waiting for fuel.  I ask myself daily, "what can I do?"... and then Aurora wakes up or bumps her head, and the question drifts away.  So I'm going to write, nightly, after she falls asleep.  I'm going to use this time to bring the questions forward and keep my fingers moving through the self-doubt and fear and see what answers come.  Until she wakes up, and maybe even keep writing through the nursing, thanks to Grandma's laptop and our neighbor's wireless connection. 

SO WHAT?

So I'll be more able to be present with Rora, so I'll be a better mom, so I'll be back exploring at the edge instead of in the muddled middle, and the edge is where I grow, where I learn.  So I'll be more alive, and happier, so I'll have more to offer the world around me, so I'll be a better mom.

Getting it all out of my head helps make it more real.  I'm going to write, and through writing, remember who I am.  For myself, for my daughter, for all the people in my life, and for (  ) ... the spirit that permeates all.

Lately I've been feeling the itch for inspiration, feeling antsy about getting a project to really throw myself into.  Rora is always here for whatever energy I have to give, of course, but I'm wanting to do something on a larger scale, involving more people.  I might direct a children's play this winter, or facilitate an Authentic Movement class at the local community center.  My yearnings extend beyond the immediate, though... I want a long term journey to invest my energy in.  I want a mission.

I recently came across this piece I wrote for a Wetpaint wiki site on Radical Intimacy (spawned by the workshops that I've facilitated with Pax and Sky)... and I felt inspired:


This could be a piece of the mission, but it's still not the comprehensive vision.  That's coming -- I can taste it, tingling through my body like an approaching orgasm.  Not there yet, still a ways to go... but I know I'll get there eventually, so I can relax and enjoy the journey.

This morning I watched Rora try to roll over in my mom's bed, softer than ours at home. I snuck out of bed to write in my journal while Rora was self-entertaining with her toes. I sat in a chair at the foot of the bed in the small room, listening to Rora's contented sounds as I wrote. When I finished, I took the opportunity for quiet observation of my daughter, who was totally focused on her new task. From laying on her back, she'd flip over using the strength of her legs, like usual, but the fluffiness of the bed prevented the rest of her body from following and she kept returning to her back. She tried at least a dozen times while I was watching, out of determination rather than frustration. She was exploring and experimenting, trying to figure out what the trouble was. She finally found that she could grab the fabric of the pillowcase to hold her body in place once she had her first arm over, then wriggled her second arm -- stuck beneath her body in the nest of fluffiness -- out from underneath.

Watching my daughter this morning, I remember that life is about experimenting, learning, growing. None of us have it all figured out. I can only keep exploring what's possible, and enjoy myself while I do it!