Friday Night Dinner

Julia and Yani invited me to join them on vacation for a couple of days at Block Island (off the coast of Rhode Island). I flew out Friday afternoon, brining along dinner, wine and dessert. After dinner was a midnight dip in the lake. Yes, they were staying on a fresh water lake, on an island, out in the ocean. Couldn't have been in a better place!

The Way I See It #250

There are quotes written on the side of Starbucks coffee cups. Here is today's:

In reality hell is not such an intention of God as it is an invention of man. God is love and people are precious. Authentic truth is not so much taught or learned as it is remembered. Somewhere in your pre-incarnate consciousness you were loved absolutely because you were. Loved absolutely, and in reality, you still are! Remember who you are!

Bishop Carlton PearsonAuthor, speaker, spiritual leader and recording artist.

Practicing?

Over the past couple of months I've been practicing new skills, particularly starting conversations with complete strangers. For a guy who used to be a pretty shy kid the skills seemed pretty foreign at first. I finally admitted to a friend recently that I probably couldn't call it practice anymore because I've gotten beyond the point of thinking about what I'm doing and now I just start talking with people. It's actually quite interesting to start a conversation and see a stranger go from being a bit aloof, to laughing and smiling in just a minute or two - sometimes two minutes is the entire length of the conversation!

At some point in this journey I had pondered how I would meet people in the future. It's become obvious to me that it's much easier than I had expected to meet and talk with people . Also it's become obvious that my dating skills are pretty rusty. I was discussing this with a coworker, saying that I felt like an awkward teenager sometimes. She pointed out that the last time I dated I was "an awkward twenty-two year old" and those are probably the same skills I'm starting with. Oh well, in the past couple of months I've been on a few dates with people I've known for years and I've just been on a couple of dates with a person I'd never met until recently. The ability to see what I'm doing, recognize the mistakes I'm making, and having a sense of humor about my missteps seems to be the best skill I've developed so far.

"Life is Good"

After the bike ride we had lunch and at some point my biking friend used the phrase "Life is Good" and I thought, yep.

I remember reading an online article sometime in the last year which described the "life as good" line of products (t-shirts, hats, etc.) and their popularity among folks who were facing tough illnesses. The article proposed that patients with a positive attitude could relate to the phrase. Specifically, during tough times life wasn't all that excellent, but neither was life all that stinky, if you could keep a positive perspective then all-in-all "life was good".

Pushing ourselves

Today I had plans with a friend to fly to Long Island to do an organized bike ride. We had questions about the weather and so we decided to bike locally instead. I'd biked with this partner a few years ago and recalled that she had been in better shape and faster than me - I had to work to keep up with her! We started at a pretty good pace and took turns leading. We planned to bike about three or four hours and for today I was the route leader (navigator). We were in an area that I hadn't biked recently so as we progressed I usually knew what the next couple of miles looked like, but I couldn't recall how all the roads linked together to get us back to the start. I'd found most of the route years ago by biking out in the country with no map, just taking time to explore and having faith that I could find my way. My bike partner for the day seemed to be quite the adventurer and didn't show any concern as I readily admitted to not knowing the exact path we would take.

We biked on some marvelous roads which often had no traffic. Way out here there are few towns and so many of the roads don't connect one town to another, they're just country roads connecting farms to markets. Eventually we came upon a ridge which gave us a beautiful view of the valley. My biking partner said she was glad that I'd taken the time to explore out here in the past as the views were spectacular. As we turned and headed for home we eventually began to recognize where we were - now we were encountering roads we'd biked on years ago. It was such an odd change of pace. To move from the exploring, meandering stage where faith carried us along, to a place where familiar landmarks began to guide us home. We began to recount stories from the ride we’d done years ago, we recalled the people we'd biked with and the sites we'd seen.

As we got down to the last seven miles my energy began to fade and I found myself just trying to keep up. I started eating breakfast bars and drinking more Gatorade. We came upon a hilly section and for a few uphills I found myself ahead and my partner behind. By the time we'd returned to the parking lot I think we were both beginning to feel drained. My partner checked the final average and said that I'd pushed her to a new high for the year. Pushed her? I told her how I'd been hanging on the last thirty minutes thinking she was pushing me! What a way to enjoy the day, we'd each been pushing ourselves and in the end exceeded our limits, not even knowing the influence we were having on each other. We did agree that better communication might have led to a more leisurely ride, but then (I thought to myself) we wouldn't have had the chance to realize our new achievements!

Stress?

It's not like I don't have things in my life which cause stress, but the way I experience stress isn't the same anymore. Almost like, "if it's not the end of the world then why get overly worked up about it"?

In the Spring I avoided hills when biking. Anytime a bike buddy suggested a hilly route I'd whine about it. Even after the bike vacation where we went up and over some incredible hills, I'd still point out if a day trip had hills in it. I wondered, why am I still worried about hills? Haven't I had enough practice this summer? That's when I started looking forward to them…

Now when I think about doing something new in my life, if any flags come up it makes me wonder why I have any hesitation. Instead of slowing me down, now when I feel some trepidation about something it seems to draw me toward it to see what there is to learn there.

Chinese fortune from a couple of weeks ago:
"Many a false step is made by standing still."

Reading day

My time is much more balanced these days. I purposely plan for days to do my own things (even if I don't know what they are yet) and days to meet with folks to do things. Things seem to naturally balance themselves out. If a week starts to seem crowded, inevitably some plans change and I've got some free time again.

Saturday I had plans but they changed. It became reading day. I used to only read one book at a time, but today I somehow switched back and forth all day long between three books, "The Power of Now", "Spiritual Traditions" and the new Harry Potter book.

The Silent Watcher

Today I spent time talking with an intuitive friend about what was going on in each of our lives. I talked about the weirdness of my life these days. Much of the time I no longer have the background chatter going on in my head. You know, the incessant stream of thoughts worrying about tomorrow, or next week, or about something that happened in the past. In social situations I find myself interacting with folks and catch myself observing what I'm doing or saying. Even when I'm alone I'll observe the thoughts I'm having. It's as if at some level I'm detached from what my personality is doing. Mostly this ability to observe just leads me to laugh at myself. Like the two year old Robert who runs around and learns through falling down and getting up, I see myself moving forward, making mistakes, getting up and continuing to move forward. This ability to observe certainly doesn’t stop me from making mistakes, but being able to view things from a different perspective seems to lend humor to things. I wonder aloud to my friend where this ability has come from and if it will fade. My friend says I've experience a type of "awakening" and that she's experienced it twice in her own life. She suggests I reread "The Power of Now".

In the evening I began rereading the book. I immediately recall how confusing this book was when I first picked it up years ago. A bookmark seems to indicate that I only read half the book the first time. This guy's answer to everything was "be in the Now", and develop the ability to be the silent watcher of you thoughts. He notes that it's a skill developed either through rigorous practice or, more instantly, after experiencing a trauma in your life. Oh, I see.

Now as I read the book I get everything the guy is saying. It's written in question-answer format and sometimes I'm able to read a question and create a fairly accurate response before I read the author's answers to the questions.

According to the concept of Yin and Yang there's a balance in everything - dark and light, moving and stillness. This is just another experience that makes me wonder what else will come out of this journey.

Dirty laundry

Although I cleaned the house a couple of weeks ago it gets messy pretty fast. You know those teenagers whose rooms are covered in clothes? Well, I'm not bad! But there are clothes hanging on the banister; there's bike stuff in piles on the floor in the living room (jackets, shoes, socks, etc.); there are white socks littering a corner of the living room. In the kitchen there is a pile of sticky notes on the counter - all reminders to myself about various things. I haven't had a visitor in the house in months so it never seems like a big deal. This week I left the wash basket in the dining room which made it an easier target. It seems that on laundry day I have to walk through the entire house to fill the basket. I mentioned the disorganization to my sister a while ago and she said not to worry, no one would be surprised to find a mess in a house where a guy was living. It wouldn't be so surprising to me but I used to be quite a bit more organized. I don't know if this is a phase I'm going through, or just a temporary way of living on my own. :)

Luckily I have settled back into cleaning, so it's pretty easy to do a quick five minute pickup to get things looking normal again!

Coffee Day

Thursday would be a "coffee" day. I went to bed Wednesday around midnight and woke up at 4am, 6am and 8am. The first time I awoke from a dream in which there was a family picnic and we could fly around through levitation - how cool is that!

The next time I awoke from a dream in which I was doing laundry in the basement with a biking friend, my brother Corry and Robin. The biking friend went upstairs (I guess to put away laundry) which left Corry, Robin and I. Robin's hair was growing back, but it was still on the short side. She was happy and smiling and talking. I started to think about her hair and that I didn't remember it ever really growing back. Finally I asked Corry if he and I were the only two in the room. He said "yes" and Robin was gone.

I woke up feeling a little pressure in my chest. Oh well. It was nice to see her smiling again! I turned off the alarm and went back to sleep.

The third time I awoke from a dream in which an airplane was doing aerobatics and a figure parachuted out in full aviator attire - leather jacket, leather hat, goggles and scarf. Now what was that about?

When I eventually got up I knew it was going to be a long day and I wasn't going to get through it without coffee.

Bookshelves

The last time I did a house cleaning I boxed up and gave away a bunch of old books. Some old textbooks, some fiction, some nonfiction. I pretty much kept everything on the "spirituality & religion" bookshelves. I used to be pretty conventional, seeking out books on Taoism and Buddhism. Robin was more eclectic, finding books that focused on the meaning on life. The last book I'd read on religion was "Awakening the Buddha Within". While reading the book I thought this was all sounding like just another religion, then I came upon a chapter in which the author pointed out that 'it *was* another type of religion, but what was wrong with that?' The traditions and writings and practices were all there to help a person focus and achieve enlightenment, love and compassion. How cool for him to have made that point.

Over the years I read many of the books which Robin acquired. At least one of her massage clients used to pass along books to her. I used to think "what great books" this person chose to pass along. Eventually I began to wonder if the client must be in a book club because I began to see that all the books appeared to have been on best seller lists. What an awesome gift for that person to have shared so many books with Robin (and I) over the years!

Anyway, here are some of the books still on the shelves (in no particular order):

The Alchemist, Paulo Coelho
The Four Agreements, Don Miguel Ruiz
Awakening the Buddha Within, Lama Surya Das
Man's Search for Meaning, Victor Frankl
The Little Prince, Antoine de Saint-Expurery
The Power of Now, Ekart Tolle
Tuesdays with Morrie, Mitch Albom
Warrior of the Light, Paulo Coelho
The Tao of Pooh, Benjamin Hoff
The Road Less Traveled, M. Scott Peck
Way of the Peaceful Warrior, Dan Millman
The Celestine Prophecy, James Redfield

Forties

I was over Julia and Yani's for Sunday afternoon/evening. Yani is studying for an exam at the end of this week and he's hiding out with his computer and textbooks. Julia and I both like to cook - though she'll do it all if I let her. She does it so much more creatively that it's fun to just hang out, talk and watch her "make stuff up" in the kitchen. I eventually convince her to let me do some food prep and the shucking of the corn. She chides me for cleaning pots and pans, but I find it meditative so I do it anyway - and then she says I can come back anytime. ;)

Eventually Yani comes out of hiding and we go for a walk at a local state park. The three of us walk down a wooded path. We spend a good deal of time discussing the questions of work, money, life and meaning. The forties seem like such a relaxed time compared to the twenties and thirties. Although we may have glimpsed our own mortality it seems too far off be a relevant problem in our lives. We're far enough along in life to have had our successes and our up-and-downs so the questions aren’t so much "what are we going to do with our lives" anymore but "how did we get here and what's next"? I guess the questions probably keep changing over time.

The past few months I've found myself in a particularly odd place. With my old "life plan" thrown out the window I realize I have the ability to question everything: where I live, what I do for work, what I want from life, what are my values? And all these questions are now colored by a different perception of what life is about anyway. I guess I've been on an OK path because I'm still OK with most the choices I've made. The things that aren't important anymore seem to fade away.

Unencumbered

Sunday morning the alarm goes off at 6:15am for the weekly "bagel" bicycle ride. Typically a twenty mile route with a stop at the bagel store along the route. For the second week in a row my hand works its way out to the alarm clock, shuts it off, and retreats back under the covers. Whew - mornings are chilly this time of the year and anyway I've only had four hours of sleep.

Later I wakeup without the aid of the alarm clock. I think the first awareness in my brain is that of a white glowing light - before I even start thinking consciously or my eyes open. Like a computer powering-up, some background processes kick in which begin to inventory systems. Arms and legs intact? Warm enough? Need to get up and pee? All this is done autonomically before the core processes kick-in and I actually begin to have lucid thoughts.

Somewhere in this phase - before I start to understand that I'm beginning to think - an idea from Saturday starts ticking over in my head. I'd felt recently that there was an aimlessness in my blogging since I've just been writing about things that happen during the day (kayaking, biking, surgery in the 90's, making dinner). Then, as my brain begins to warm up it occurs to me that even the everyday stories include metaphors for me learning new things, exploring, not being worried about making mistakes, allowing myself to get lost, trusting my intuition. Like Robert, lately I don't seem encumbered by a lot of unnecessary thought about the activities I undertake, I just do them. I start to chuckle and then I know I'm awake. I guess I've been writing long enough that it's becoming second nature.

No plans

I've been thinking about cooking lately. Saturday morning I had some boating plans that were cancelled and I found myself at Saratoga Farmers Market, buying veggies and goat cheese. Food with no dinner plans.

The day was supposed to start busy, but with the cancellation I spent the morning getting a bike tune-up, going to the market, stopping at a new chocolate store, and checking out BBQ grills at Lowes. All this activity wiped me out so that I felt compelled to take an afternoon nap. Sometimes the best days are the ones when plans change and activities become ad-libbed.

In the early evening I was oiling the bike chain to complete the tune-up when I thought of my friend Mike, who's wife was out of town. We get in touch and decide to do dinner. I pick up a few more things at the store, show up at his new house (in the clothes I napped in), and we're making steak and crab an hour later.

Mike and Carole had just closed on the house Thursday, so I before I went over I asked what would be available in the kitchen and Mike said just pots and pans. I didn’t really understand he was being literal until I arrived and found exactly three pots and one pan. Luckily I had brought most everything needed to cook. In fact, after going to the grocery store I even made one more stop at home to make sure I brought a knife and a bottle opener. Oh yeah, Mike had four plates. All we had to do was go to the store to pick up plastic utensils!

I've taken a couple of cooking classes. In each class part of the grade was determined by what you produced but a significant portion of the grade was also based on how you coped with unplanned events. What would you do when a sauce didn't thicken, when you burnt the onions for french onion soup, when you mistook salt for sugar? There wasn't always time or resources to start over. Staying relaxed, going with the flow and improvising were all part of the process!

Practicing

I'm thinking back to a few weeks ago when I had been fishing on the dock with two year old Robert, (who is an energetic and happy child). After fishing I sat with his mother and we watched him run around the yard as we talked. He would repeatedly fall down, get back up and keep going. Never mind taking time to brush himself off - he would just go back to moving at top speed without a second thought.

Robert's pediatrician had told her that the majority of an individual's personality may be preset at birth and doesn’t change. I thought to myself, but don't life experiences change a person? Then I wondered if tough situations really change you or if they just give you a chance to "reset". The same circumstances which force you to stop and be in the moment can also stop a lot of the background chatter in your mind. Worries, fears, doubts anxieties. It seems they're pretty much self manufactured anyway. Robert doesn’t seem to have any concerns (at least not this afternoon) he just keeps moving and experiencing things. He has all the appearance of practicing things, like running, falling and getting back up, but not with the apparent intent of trying to learn them.

The Healing Process

Twelve years ago I had an accident that resulted in multiple fractures to my left hand. I figured it was serious because the folks in the ER had called the medical center's top hand surgeon late in the evening to get his input. He had me see him the next morning and surgery was performed the following day. Before surgery, after surgery and during the two months of physical therapy I asked the doctor each week "How much functionality will I get back in my hand and how long will it take?" He would always say patiently "We'll see - just keep working on it".

It was a completely logical question on my part. When I first saw my hand unwrapped after surgery it was the size of a small football - it looked like an impossibly large cartoon hand. It was puffed on the top and bottom, the fingers were so swollen (like big fat sausages) that there were no gaps between them. A dozen pins protruded from my hand - holding together the fractures. The first few days of physical therapy I would sit and focus all my attention simply to wiggle my fingertips. Every few days I would see a little progress. Soon the second joint on each finger would flex a little, then the third joint would flex a little. There were weeks of constant work to regain range of motion in each joint. It didn't matter that it hurt to flex my fingers. It didn't matter what my hand looked like. Eventually we worked on recovering range of motion in my hand and wrist. Then there were strength building exercises - for the fingers, for the hand, for the arm.

Over time I pretty much regained all the function in the hand. The doctor took photos which he said would go with a journal article. When our work was done and my care complete I asked a new question. I asked, "Way back at the beginning, after surgery, how much functionality did you expect I was going to recover?". He replied that the injury had been so severe that he had never known how much I would recover or how long it would take. His gift to me ten years ago (besides fixing up my hand!) had been that he never told me that there could be any limitations, nor did he guess at timeframes. He had let my body work out the healing process without constraints. It would seem that given time and attention our bodies and minds are capable of healing from all sorts of traumas - much more so than we would imagine.

Impromptu Bike Ride

Yesterday when I biked the skies had been threatening rain. It never caused me to change my route or cut the ride short. It did finally start sprinkling - after I had arrived back at my car, had put everything away and was ready to drive home. (I'm such a lucky boy!)

Today an e-mail went out to a group of bicyclists proposing an impromptu bike ride. Those of us who could make it (Susie, Kaaren, Karen and I) planned to meet at 4pm. I called to say I was running a little late and was told to "bring some sun" because the sky was filled with dark ominous looking clouds. Soon after we started biking the clouds disappeared and we enjoyed clear blue skies for the entire ride. Afterwards we were met by Jenny who had prepared an incredible table full of appetizers. We shared some great wines and (as is quite normal for this group) continuous laughter and joking. (I'm such a lucky boy!)

We went out to dinner at a restaurant where Michael joined us. Half way through dinner we could see rain pelting the windows and a stiff breeze was blowing - so there are the storms! By the time we were leaving the weather had passed and there was barely a drizzle remaining. You get the picture by now - got all the right weather; hung out with wonderful, happy, generous folks; enjoyed an evening full of laughter - I'm such a lucky boy! ;)

Hidden Strength

Robin's father passed away from cancer many years ago. His final weeks were spent at the hospital receiving treatments. One night, as Robin and I drove home from visiting him, we talked about what the chemo was doing to his body. At first we thought if either of us ever got cancer we would refuse chemo but after more discussion we came around to a different conclusion. We thought that we couldn't know what we would do unless we were actually put into that position to make our own personal life-and-death decision.

In the same way, most of us probably couldn't comprehend how we would respond if we (or our significant other) were diagnosed with cancer. I've heard stories about couples who became closer and of other couples who were split apart by the news. Certainly Robin and I had our own personal issues and our relationship issues before the cancer. We weren't perfect but I guess we managed through life OK. Somehow the cancer journey helped cut through all that stuff and allowed us to focus on the one critical issue for those eight months. I never would have guessed at the capabilities each of us would show throughout that period.

I can tell you that (faced with cancer in your life) you have the capability to find strength, resolve and persistence that you've never known before. I can tell you that it's possible for you to keep a sense of humor throughout the hardest of times. I can tell you that whatever issues you were dealing with prior to the diagnosis, it's possible for all of them to fall to the wayside while you focus on the task at hand. It may not be easy. There may be times when you stumble. But you can keep going at whatever rate suits your needs: one-day-at-a-time, one-hour-at-a-time, one-moment-at-a-time.

Blessed

Today I did a solo bike ride on country roads around a reservoir. You can tell you're in a remote area when you keep coming across deer walking on the road and you have to get their attention in order to get them to bolt. Today I came across deer three different times.

I know the area well enough to ride without maps (I can get lost back there and still find my out). I've got a new bike and have yet to mount a bike computer on it. At the moment it doesn’t seem to really matter how far or how fast I'm going. I'm exploring roads I've never been on and this sometimes leads to unexpectedly long uphills, long downhills and occasionally dirt roads. No big deal - for a while now it's been more interesting not to have a plan and just let things happen as they will.

For most of the year I've been riding with groups. Now I'm occasionally doing some longer rides solo and I'm starting to feel an aggressiveness and assertiveness coming back. Hills are becoming easier to ascend and sometimes even look welcoming. Sometimes I push up over hills, or pedal hard on the flats to the point of breathing heavily. The challenges feel good.

As I rode I considered how fortunate I am - to know so many positive people; to feel supported in so many ways at home and at work; and to feel settled into life again. In everyday situations my intuition seems stronger than ever before. I don't know if it's something that has changed and gotten stronger, if I simply trust it more, or if there's just less chatter in my head than there was a few years ago. I'm definitely more open about myself when meeting new people and I'm certainly more open to new experiences. I find it much easier to simply be in the moment these days.

I tried to explain the feeling to a friend (my choc-aholic buddy) by saying I'd regained the "lucky" feeling I used to have. She looked at me funny as if to question my sanity - how could I consider myself "lucky" after last year. Then she got it and she said, "Oh, you feel blessed". Yep.

Sunset on the Lake

After the circus afternoon I had planned to drop off Robert and Keenan about 6:00pm and then head home - until they invited me to dinner at their vacation cottage on a lake. Who could say no to that offer? While the charcoal heated up for dinner Robert and I took his homebuilt kayaks out on the lake. My lifetime kayaking experience is about a half-hour in a school pool practicing to right the kayak (and myself) after turning upside down in the water. I think I may have actually made it upright once or twice. Mostly I learned about how long I could hold my breath and how to exit a kayak while inverted (I got *very good* at that!) Hopefully this evening I wouldn't have to rely on that skill set (or, well, lack thereof).

For the first five minutes I would repeatedly experience an unnerving sense of instability. While paddling along I would suddenly feel as if the kayak and I were about to roll left, or roll right. After a while I started to sense that I might be causing the problem by flinching. The more I focused on relaxing the less often I experienced the instability. I asked Robert "would the kayak float if I tipped over?" He said "yes", and he knew how to do a "kayak retrieve" to get it back to shore. Get *it* back to shore? What about me?

This summer I’d been looking for someone to introduce me to kayaking. Two weeks ago I'd met someone with kayaking experience and I'd asked if they would take me out sometime. After about ten minutes on the lake I noted to Robert that by the time I get to go with my friend I wouldn't look like a novice anymore. Almost in perfect synchronization with finishing that statement I flinched and felt like I was going overboard. Hmm...how many of the issues in our lives are self-induced?

The feeling of instability did continue to diminish over time. After a while I started experimenting with the paddle to see what positions might be more comfortable. I had noticed that I was getting my pants pretty wet simply from water dripping off the paddle - it would be nice if I could learn to stay dry. By the time we'd returned to the beach the bottom half of my shorts were soaked and there was a small puddle in the bottom of the kayak. Robert, who had paddled in the "kiddy size" kayak, was completely dry.

We enjoyed a wonderful family dinner on the cottage deck overlooking the lake. Cheese and crackers, chicken, salad and pasta - all while watching clouds turned pink by the setting sun. I couldn't have been more satisfied at the end of the day as I boarded the airplane, headed for home in my still slightly soggy shorts.

Dreams change

While we were at the circus I spoke with a mother of one of the performers. We talked about flying and she noted her father had been building his own experimental airplane but at seventy-eight years old and after having had heart surgery be had to sell the partially built aircraft. She said "It was a really hard dream for him to give up".

I suppose throughout our lives dreams come and go. Some we decide to let go and they fade away quietly, others are taken from us abruptly by the forces of nature. I think in the end the important thing is that we recognize them for what they are - the sum of our own desires, wishes and longings. We're still here. We're still going. There's certainly some period of time for which it's healthy to mourn losses. I think maybe a time for us to feel like we're still saying goodbye. In the end we don't forget about the dreams - they become part of our mental snapshots of where we were, who we were, and what we did.

When all is said and done the rest of the universe is still moving forward, and as long as we're here on the planet there's still time for new dreams!

Plane Easy

Well, I've haven't been biking in the past week but I have been doing some more flying. A co-worker's son (Taylor) is in a circus "summer camp" (http://www.circussmirkus.org/) which performs all over New England and today we flew up to the see the show at the big top in Montpelier, VT. It would have been a pretty long drive from my home, or for my friend who was vacationing on Paradox Lake. Instead I flew up to the Adirondacks (about 35 minutes) picked up Robert and his younger son Keenan, and flew to Montpelier (25 minutes).

The performers do some things that look very dangerous (well - they *are* dangerous). Besides the clowning and juggling they do wire walking acts and they hang from ropes and trapeze bars. Only one act used a safety wire - when two girls did a trapeze act very high in the tent. I couldn't help but think that activities like climbing a thirty foot pole, wrapping your legs around it and hanging off horizontally with your arms straight out must involve some risk (let alone being lifted up fifteen feet while just holding two ropes). I asked Robert about it later and he noted that the kids train in the early summer while wearing helmets and safety wires, then as they master the various skills the safety equipment comes off.

Occasionally Robert points out a performer and notes that this performer has been on David Letterman, or that performer has been on the Jay Leno show. One young man even competed in the reality show "Who wants to be a Superhero". For kids in the audience everything looks like it's done perfectly. However, as an adult you can see that things don't always go as planned but the performers recover without missing a beat, and they usually make it all look like it's part of the show.

(no wires)

The whole performance reminds me that life has it's ups and downs and you can sit in the audience feeling amazed by what people can achieve, or you can participate, try new things and be amazed at what you can do. Plus, when you're actively involved and things don't go as planned, no problem - just get up, dust yourself off and keep going!

On the way home we're taking off from Montpelier with Keenan (who is about 13 or 14 years old) in the pilot's seat (I'm a flight instructor so I'm OK flying from either seat). As we accelerate down the runway I put my hands in my lap and I ask him if he wants to fly - he could start with the takeoff - I point at the yoke and say all he has to do is grasp it and pull back gently. He looks at me and hesitates momentarily - and then just before I need to get on the controls he reaches out, pulls back, and gets us into the air!

Faith in yourself

Ten years ago Robin and I went on a camping trip in which we stayed in a lean-to on a lake. The lean-to was pretty far up from the shoreline - far enough so that scrub brush and trees obscured the view of the water. In the afternoon we walked down a well-worn path to where a large rock protruded into the lake. It provided an area in which to sun and also a platform from which one could jump into the lake.

I swam around the edge of the rock with goggles to look for any submerged dangers (e.g. tree braches, stumps). Everything looked safe so I started jumping off the rock into the water. For some reason Robin just couldn't get herself to make the jump. Some sense of uncertainty kept her from taking the leap. No big deal, I provided reassurances and suggested she use the goggles too, but she didn't need external input into her quandary.

That evening we finished dinner and were cleaning up. It was close to sunset and the temperature had dropped so we were wearing jackets and pants. As I put away the cooking stove Robin went to rinse off some utensils in the lake. A few minutes later I heard a loud splash. It flashed through my head that Robin had lost her balance and had fallen into the water. I dropped everything and hurried down the path. As I emerged on the rock I found Robin smiling and swimming in the water. Something had possessed her to finally make the leap! The next day we got a picture of her jumping.

A couple of weeks ago as I was house cleaning I came across a photo from that day. I flipped it over and found a note from her written on the back. Seeing the picture and the note I couldn't help but smile and laugh.

The physics of grieving and rebuilding at six months

When I was in High School, physics was concerned with the atom which was made up of three elementary particles (protons, neutrons and electrons) which were either positively charged, negatively charged, or neutral. Since then physicists have expanded on the concepts so that now they see each of these entities as made up of multiple smaller particles named quarks. Instead of simply being positive or negative, quarks come in six named "flavors" - up, down, charm, strange, top and bottom. What the heck are they talking about? Does gravity still exist in this environment?

Anyway I feel like my understanding of grieving and rebuilding has changed in much the same way over the past six months. Initially I'd heard there would be these "phases" and it seemed like the phases would take certain amounts of time - a little less for some people, a little more for others. Thankfully there was one consistent qualifier - "everyone's grieving experience is different". That's a "get out of jail free" card which gave me permission to not worry about the path I would take!

In March, one person had initially described grieving as a process of ups and downs. He used his hand to illustrate a few inches upward, an inch downward, a few inches higher, then an inch downward - and so on with a positive, upward trend. Somehow I feel my experience was more like a roller coaster ride. There was the long slow process of climbing to the top of the first hill (last Winter), a dramatic drop off a precipice (February), and then progressively smaller ups and downs as the train heads toward its destination (Spring). Unlike a regular roller coaster this one doesn’t seem to go back to the station where we boarded - it passes through unfamiliar territory and ends somewhere else. The only constant is that as we're pulling into the new station I'm still me, but I'm in a new place.

The other odd thing is that the phases (grieving and rebuilding) don't seem to be distinct - instead they seem to overlap. I first started getting out and meeting people at the end of May. By June I was making new friends and meeting folks to do activities (biking, dinner, movies). Each step outward has been accompanied by a feeling of being a little more comfortable, a little more settled. I think I did find it a little confusing for awhile - how could grieving and rebuilding be happening at the same time? Isn't there supposed to be some culmination of events when I finally say "hey, I'm ready to move on now", then rebuilding starts. Nowadays I don't think that's how it works - but for me it's been a good thing. It seems like each time I take a new step forward, it also helps me understand my past and present a little more clearly.

As with everything else in life, none of this happens in a vacuum. I continue to find myself surrounded by positive, energetic folks who are part of the journey! I can't change the past, but like Michael J. Fox ("Lucky Man"), I do feel like I also couldn't have gotten to this new place without the experiences which have shaped me.

(another) Cleaning Day

The middle of May was the first time I started bringing clothes to Goodwill. I was using kitchen size (30 gallon) trash bags and after filling about a dozen bags I thought I had completed most of the job, only later to realize there was still a huge dresser and a closet to go. I emptied the dresser maybe a month ago and today I finished with the closet.

A couple of folks had offered to help in the past but I've always turned them down. I was thinking today that maybe that's because if several people had helped it would have all been done in one day. Instead, I've done it at my own speed which turns out to have its own benefits. Each time I've worked on bagging things I'd work until I didn't feel like doing anymore. A sure sign was when I would start to think, well I'll just keep "this" for now, or I'll just keep "that" a little longer.

It would be a scene reminiscent of the movie "The Jerk" when Navin (Steve Martin) has lost his wealth and been dumped by his wife and on the way out the door he says:

"Well I'm gonna to go then. And I don't need any of this. I don't need this stuff, and I don't need you. I don't need anything except this. [picks up an ashtray] And that's it and that's the only thing I need, is this. I don't need this or this. Just this ashtray. And this paddle game, the ashtray and the paddle game and that's all I need. And this remote control. The ashtray, the paddle game, and the remote control, and that's all I need."

One of the benefits of breaking up my task was seeing that the experience of bagging and donating clothes has changed over time. I still ended up getting a tear in my eye driving home from goodwill, but these days teary eyes just happen sometimes and they're now associated with positive memories.

Besides Robin's clothes, I also cleaned up medications (prescription and homeopthic) and medical supplies. I had no idea how much junk was laying around until I went through the hallway closet. The hospice folks seem to have a hit list of meds which they dispose of, but apparently lots of mundane pharmaceuticals are not on their list - like "numbing mouthwash" (for patients receiving head and neck radiation). After pouring three different liquids down the drain I started to wonder if I might accidentally create a toxic brew if I wasn't more careful!

While I've met people who hang onto stuff forever, and some who clean out their house within a week or two, I feel like I'm just doing things at my own pace.

MVY (Martha's Vineyard)

Whew! What a perfect day - this makes two excellent days this week! Although my sleeping habits have been getting better, I still don't usually go to bed before 11:30pm. Now I've had two days this week in which everything was so fun, relaxing, and perfect that I arrive home feeling like the day is complete. I brush my teeth and I'm ready for bed by ten (which is actually a little early for me!)

Today Julia and I met at 9:00am, flew an hour-and-a-half and were having lunch in Edgartown by 11:30am. We hung out on the beach until 5pm, then had dinner (fresh seafood!) and headed home. We had front row seats to watch the sunset and then we picked up a clearance to climb and we flew in and out of the clouds at 6,000ft for a little while. For a first time flier Julia was great! She said the flight was much smoother than she expected and I was less busy than she expected (well, after leveling off in cruise the autopilot takes care of the flying). It was all pretty great except I think she needs a little more time to get comfortable with being inside clouds. Overall, she seems ready to go again - and next time we'll get Yani to come along!

Got two pictures before the camera went on the fritz (note to self - don't take the camera to the sandy beach):

Boundaries

Well, I really have been having fun since getting my laugh back. It's not that I wasn't having fun before, but I feel more of a spark in me these days in whatever I'm doing. I have shared a bit about meeting new friends and about meeting new people but I do try to be cognizant of boundaries and so not everything happening in my life ends up on the blog. It's original purpose had been to facilitate communication about Robin's situation, but since then it's morphed into a journal for me (obviously) .

When I do get down to considering the purpose of the blog (besides the tremendous benefit which I get from writing) one idea that sustains me is that someday, someone in a similar situation might find something helpful in it's content. That something in my experience might resonate with them and it might ease their journey. Once in a while I think it's time to wrap it up, or take a hiatus. Then as I continue to evolve and change I think, well, just a little while longer, there might just be a few more things to write about.

Amusement Night

Julia and I met for dinner at a local restaurant at 5:30 with plans to see a movie at 7:00pm. Yani was working nearby and decided to join us. We chatted and chatted and as if in a time warp and it was soon past seven o'clock. No bother, we can see a movie anytime. We continued talking, laughing, joking and the next thing it was 8:30. I was very thirsty and kept getting refills of water which added to the amusement for the evening (you'll just have to ask Julia what that was all about).

I mentioned I was flying to Martha's Vineyard Saturday and would they be interested in going? Yani is busy studying for a very important exam at the end of the month, but he suggested Julia go with me. The smallest plane she has been in is a corporate jet, and she wasn't completely comfortable with the idea of flying in a small airplane. She asked if there's room to move around in the plane and I explain that this will be more like being in a car than in a business jet. Well, she says she'll give it a try!

Short List

When I first started to see Alex the counselor last Fall I would basically go in and talk about what was going on that week. Mostly he listened, but if I ran out of things to say he would ask questions which would prompt me to think. It was very rare for him to give advice, more often he'd make an observation or share a pertinent story that might shed light on my situation. His primary function seemed to be to let me talk. Later I evolved to writing down questions between meetings and we'd go over the list when we met. The last time we met it had been a month since I'd seen him. My list of discussions topics was pretty short. I noted to him that I still come up with questions, I've just learned to answer them myself.

Full Moon Rising

A couple of months ago I was driving home on a Northbound highway at sunset. The sky was filled with layered clouds, the residual effect of evening thunderstorms. The sun was low on the horizon and shafts of sunlight pierced the various cloud layers, lighting them from underneath. Some areas of cloud showed a natural brilliant orange while other areas not directly in the sunlight, glowed in shades of blue.

I was approaching a highway junction which required turning eastbound - over a bridge and away from the sunset. I thought about taking an earlier exit and watching the sunset from a park. Colorful sunsets like this can brighten and fade in a pretty short period of time. Instead I just considered it part of the passing beauty of life. Even as I took the exit eastbound I knew the colors would still be up there in the sky behind me.

With the change in driving direction I was greeted by an entirely new view. To the East the sky was dusky gray. The full moon had risen just a touch above the horizon and was low enough to still have a yellow glow. It was framed by thin layers of clouds in various shades of bluish-gray. A lone thin cloud stretched from left to right, bisecting the moon. The scene was lit by a different palette of colors, more subtle but just as sublime.

It seems we often we get caught up in trying to hang on to fleeting views that we want to make last. We get the urge to try to stop the clock and linger in an experience - when in reality we can't even slow the clock down. I'd appreciated the sunset for it's brilliance - and having let it go I found in my future an entirely new beauty that I hadn't imagined. At the time I recall thinking that there was something to write about in the experience but it's only now, settled in a new place, that the words have found their way out.

Winter

The spirit at ease
Relaxation is complete
Dreams begin anew

Fall

nature's rhythm slows
memories of abundance
the river runs dry

Summer

nestled under stars
dreamy sleep comes easily
northern lights dancing

Spring

glistening snow melts
curious bear cub delights
learning as he plays

Mental "Weeding"

Today I did yard work in the afternoon - I cut the grass and weeded the gardens around the house. It occurred to me that the writing I have done about the past is a kind of "mental weeding". As "anniversaries" come around I spend time thinking about where we were last year, writing about it, and somehow gaining some more healing. I don't know if it's all about letting the feelings go, or if it's simultaneously a way to relive and reprocess them. I'm happy to have reached the point where the blog began. I feel like I've been in a new phase of my life for some time now - I think that's another reason why I'm loosing the impetus to write about the past

As I complete the gardening and put things away I can see the spot where the sunflowers stood. This summer I haven't allowed anything else to take root there, but today I decide that I'll spread Echinacea seeds there in the Fall.

2006 - good news, bad news

We finished that weekend relieved that we had a plan - we were going to see a local physician Tuesday, and I would also call Beth Israel to see about a consult in the city. I don’t know what we would have done without the support that we were already receiving from friends and family!

On Monday I called Beth Israel, explained our situation and asked if we could see the Director of Head and Neck Surgery/Oncology. The person put me on hold for a moment. She returned and said, the doctor can see you on Wednesday night at 8pm, could we be there? Of course we could!
So there was the start of good news/bad news. It was good news that we could get an appointment in two days. I also took it as bad news that we could get an appointment in two days with a surgeon at such a high level.

That Wednesday night we were ushered into an exam room. Two fellows entered and I knew neither was the Director of Head and Neck Surgery (I'd seen his photo). I asked if we would actually get to meet with the Director himself. One of the gentlemen stated, "of course". He explained they were part of the surgical team. He introduced himself as the Director of Maxillofacial Surgery, and his partner, the physician in charge of the Prosthodontics (surgical implants). He went on to explain that they had been leaving the office when they were made aware of Robin's case and they wanted to see her.

I thought to myself, "Oh great, more good news/bad news".

2006 - longest weekend

I can't remember the exact details of that Friday afternoon. I know I got off the phone and headed home. I walked out of the office without talking to anyone.

Sometime that evening we contacted Julia and Yani. We would have discussions with them on and off all weekend. As the weekend progressed I got the distinct impression that they were working 24x7 to find out where we needed to go next. We would go through a cycle of choices. These two not only had contacts in the oncology community around the country, but they also wrote e-mails to physicians who had authored the few journal articles which existed - and they got responses back - all weekend long. At one point we'd decided Sloane-Kettering, then we changed to a medical center in Philadelphia. Late Sunday the final choice came across - Beth Israel in New York. Yani had posted a query to a cancer bulletin board and a fellow had phoned to tell about the excellent care his wife had received for the same disease.

In between the calls that weekend Robin and I just spent time together.

She wasn't fully briefed yet on the disease. Saturday (as Yani and Julia toiled away on research) Robin and I were doing gardening. We cleared out a flower bed, laid down some plastic sheet, covered the area with wood chips, and planted four sunflowers that were about two feet tall.

At about 4pm Robin and I went to the grocery store. After we'd picked up a few items Robin paused to ask me about the diagnosis. She said "it's not good is it". I said no, SNUC was a bad one to have. I gave a few details and then suggested we go over the rest of the information at home.

The sunflowers we planted that day never survived. A week later they drooped and never really came back. Though I never mentioned it, I took that as a bad omen.

2006 - Nothing here for you

August 2006 - Soon it was seven days after surgery and still no word on a diagnosis. We were in an uncomfortable holding pattern, not knowing clearly what the timeframes and treatments would be, or exactly what cancer would be diagnosed. We weren't taking "leaning toward" SNUC as a commitment.

That Friday I had made plans for lunch with Yani. He works in Radiation Oncology and said that the doctors in his office would be happy to speak with me. I had declined the offer mainly because we didn't have a diagnosis. What would they do - console me?

I arrived to pick up Yani for lunch and he said "Greg, the doctor's expecting you". I thought, well all right, Yani was nice enough to make inquires, I would make the effort to meet with the physician from his office. We had a few minutes to wait so Yani gave me a tour of the radiation therapy suite and a fellow employee began to show how they plan for radiation treatments.

Soon the doctor stopped in and brought me back to his office. We chatted briefly and I explained Robin's six week history, the comment about "leaning toward undifferentiated", and the wait for the pathology results. The doc asked if it was large cell and I said "yes". Hmmm…didn't know that was an important detail. I still don't recall why that was an important detail.

Then the doctor stunned me. He said we "knew enough already" and that there was nothing the folks in our hometown could offer us. He said that we needed to go to the city without hesitation. He described one of his patients who had visited about a small lump in his neck which turned out to cancerous. The patient had declined treatment, but arrived back six weeks later with a lump the size of a football on his neck.

My cell phone was beeping and I pressed the silence button without looking to see who had called.

I thanked the doctor. I didn't see Yani again that day because I immediately left and headed back to my office. Robin had left a message on my cell, the surgeon had instructed us to call. I got back to my desk and we did a three-way teleconference. The surgeon gave us the confirmation on the diagnosis of SNUC. He said he'd made an appointment for us with a local head and neck oncology surgeon for the following Tuesday.

2006 Surgery follow-up

So, there we were meeting the local surgeon for follow-up the week after surgery. He checked out the stitches in her gums and checked her nasal passages. We talked about the diagnosis - it had been five days since surgery and the Pathology folks still did not have a definitive answer, though "they were leaning toward undifferentiated" - ick - I had memorized all the different types of sinonasal cancer and I knew this was the worst. I knew that this would be bad news if it were confirmed.

When Robin and I got home she asked me to get the journal article on sinonasal cancers and to read about SNUC. I fished around, found the paper, looked at. Then I said, "you know what since they haven't decided what it is, why focus on any one type right now." Robin agreed - why worry about something that was not yet definite.

Running out of steam

Well, I've been running out of steam when it comes to writing "last year" stories (though I'll finish with a few more entries here). I think my decreasing initiative is actually a good thing. In the Spring when I first had the urge to write about things that had happened in 2006, I really felt like I needed to tell the story about how things began. As I've written the last couple of 'installments' the urge has been diminishing. I expect it's the natural progression of the grieving process and working things out in my head. I had planned to cover the events leading up to the start of the blog, so I'll post these last few "2006" to complete that mission.