Ale La (Go There)

Usually when people find out that I work in hospice and at a birth center they say something like, “Wow, both ends of the spectrum. What is that like?” Either that or they start singing The Circle of Life… I haven’t figured out a complete answer to that question yet. But, it’s a little bit like this. Remember the days when you were a child swimming in the ocean and its blue infinity captured all your senses? Momma Rowe used to tell us to keep our rainbow beach umbrella in sight so that she could count our heads as we bobbled up and down in the waves and whitewater. But when we were IN the water we usually had our eyes turned out at the great never-ending horizon rather than looking back for the rainbow umbrella. Our attention was focused on the rhythm; sand beneath feet, approaching wave, duck under, power rolling over you, push off the bottom, take back your breath in the open air, shake stinging salt from your eyes to watch for another wall of water, feel the sand be...

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about Fear . Or more accurately, I have been thinking a lot lately about how Fear has been running my life, how it has been an undercurrent in many of my major decisions, and how it has distracted me from really living. I have a lot of ideas about this, and I’ve been challenging myself to write them out and to write about them honestly. But, in the middle of my honesty and “self reflection” I’ve come to a detour/stop. You see, Fear is not always a vague concept that is woven into a season of our life’s fabric. No, sometimes Fear is a real, visceral, confirmed and present danger. Sometimes Fear shouts at us through our circumstances, and, if we are honest, we are nodding our heads in agreement with it. What do we do when the face of Fear mirrors the reality in our life? What do we do when we have been rejected? What do we do when we face a life-changing illness? Or when we face the illness of a loved one? Or when we are told that ...

In the middle of sorting through my fears, dreams, hopes, and future plans I have found an Eden. The wildness is calling me. Lately, on my days off I am outside. I’m running the trails behind Fullerton. I am in the mountains with my family. I am pinching the flowering heads off of my basil plants, and leaning into and the rich, deep smell of homegrown tomatoes in the sunshine. When I’m inside, I’m wearing woolen hiking socks and T-Shirt that says “Go climb a rock.” I am smelling the left-over bonfire smoke in my hair and reading John Muir letters. The wildernesses outside and inside collide. Life is huge. It is full of things we do not understand. There are great joys and great tragedies. And sometimes in the rush and crush of overwhelming feelings we miss the grandiosity, the extravagance and joy.  I think the unexplained wildness of creation may be the very thing that calls to our hearts, the trigger of creation and the intricate detail of our innermost c...

Somewhere around the turn of the New Year, thoughts about fear kept weaving themselves through the fabric of prayers, experiences and conversations that make up the living, breathing fabric of Life. I suddenly stepped back and saw a greater pattern in mine. I saw some of the ways that fear has dictated my thinking and guided my decision making process.   Fear dominated much of the way I approached my faith. Fear snuck its way into my thoughts about femininity. Fear told me to hold back reserves even in my deepest friendships.  Fear kept me from following.  Fear had my hopes for the future locked up tight in cages.  But something has been shaking loose.  "Be a Lamp. Or a Lifeboat. Or a Ladder. Help someone's soul heal. Walk out of your house like a shepherd."   - Rumi The BIG parts of life and death keep hitting me like a Mack truck. Rather than be the sad llama  who feels oh so sorry for herself, I want to be ...

Welp. I was going to write something about pain, but… It just wasn’t gelling. Like seriously, this past weekend I wrote 4 different fragments of thought collections, and none of them were anything that I felt in my bones. I was on vacation with my friend Lindsay, trying to write, and suddenly turned to her and said, “ This is not working. I think I maybe need to write something… gritty .” She nodded supportively and asked me ½ hr. later how my “getting gritty was going.” Yeah. I had nothing. I have no success at "grittiness." It just looks like crazy eyes.  Yesterday I was in a patients home with no words, tears in my eyes, and barren comfort to give the daughters of a young mom who is dying of cancer. Last night I was sweating the emotion out of every single pore of my body in a hot yoga class. And today was like listening to the same song on repeat- another family, more tears, and eye contact with my patients hazel eyes that blinked to pu...