Monday, March 27, 2017
Thursday, August 1, 2013
PLANS CHANGE
on 6/11/13, our beloved grandson, Tyehimba Alkebu-lan Crear, was injured in Tampa where he lived with his dad, our son. He lived for 3 days in a coma with grave injuries.
We were able to get to his side an hour or 2 before he crossed over to shine his light in the other side of life. That he waited for us is a gift and we are grateful.
5-24-93 --->6-14-13 / 20 years old.
It may be a long time before i can really write about his story because my heart hurts so badly and i miss him so keenly. It was just too short - his time here with us...though he helped a lot of people and inspired many more.Check his memorial blog at www.tyehimba524.com.
DANCE IN JOY AND REST IN PEACE SWEET BIMBA.
NAKUPENDA SANA.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Evan's nap
i thought i would spend some time sharing miracles about the children i have worked with over the 20 + years i was in child development/education.
Evan was a great little guy who had trouble keeping still and paying attention. There had not been a formal diagnosis but i surmised there was some adhd going on along with other stuff. He was in my 4 year old classroom at the little private preschool where i taught for a couple of years.
Naptime was a big opportunity for my learning patience. we had small mats that we placed on the floor with blankets and pillows for the children to rest upon for an hour and a half. Evan was not the only child who took a long while to go to sleep or even settle down. i understand that. i relate to it. and i loved my students.
after trying several different discipline methods to help him i hit upon a real miracle one day as i sat beside his mat, patting his back gently. it came to me to just speak. what came out was a prayer of sorts.
"Christ within me. Christ beside me. Christ behind me. Christ in front of me. Christ above me. Christ below me. Christ be with me." There is a song we sing at church that brought this little memory back...it is "Christ Surround Me", and it basically says those same words.
as i repeated the mantra, Evan began to learn the words and would say it as best he could with me. then one day as we said it softly together, he drifted off to sleep. for a while this was the one way to get him to be calm and to rest. just a few simple words.
when i forgot one day to perform our ritual, Evan reminded me "Ms Linda, you forgot Christ!"
i love the mouths and hearts of babes. +
Evan was a great little guy who had trouble keeping still and paying attention. There had not been a formal diagnosis but i surmised there was some adhd going on along with other stuff. He was in my 4 year old classroom at the little private preschool where i taught for a couple of years.
Naptime was a big opportunity for my learning patience. we had small mats that we placed on the floor with blankets and pillows for the children to rest upon for an hour and a half. Evan was not the only child who took a long while to go to sleep or even settle down. i understand that. i relate to it. and i loved my students.
after trying several different discipline methods to help him i hit upon a real miracle one day as i sat beside his mat, patting his back gently. it came to me to just speak. what came out was a prayer of sorts.
"Christ within me. Christ beside me. Christ behind me. Christ in front of me. Christ above me. Christ below me. Christ be with me." There is a song we sing at church that brought this little memory back...it is "Christ Surround Me", and it basically says those same words.
as i repeated the mantra, Evan began to learn the words and would say it as best he could with me. then one day as we said it softly together, he drifted off to sleep. for a while this was the one way to get him to be calm and to rest. just a few simple words.
when i forgot one day to perform our ritual, Evan reminded me "Ms Linda, you forgot Christ!"
i love the mouths and hearts of babes. +
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Salaam 9/11
in my heart's turmoil regarding the seemingly fading of compassion in our country i had prayed for respite. i had asked for a 'connection' that might bolster my confidence in the power of love.
and yesterday i was blessed with that very opportunity. i had the privilege through a job assignment to meet an Iraqi refugee. my task was to get the paperwork done to sign him up for our senior meal program. now Mr A can speak only a smattering of English and my Arabic is limited to 'peace' & 'love'. so it was through much gesturing and maneuvering that we completed his enrollment forms.
his demeanor was one of humility and quiet...almost as though he did not want to be seen. it made me feel sad. it must have been trying for him to entertain my respectful but somewhat pushy determination to get the answers to the nosey questions on the forms.
i really wanted to ask how he has been treated here given the climate of hate that has pervaded the news lately. but i held my tongue as i listened intently leaning close and reaching for a communication that bridges the language gap.
i have learned to embrace miracles when they come my way and to be open to hearing what is really being said.
we finished the forms and i admired Mr A's signature - so different from my own and really pretty. he showed me how to write my name in Arabic too and it is lovely.
then with more signs and 'charades' we talked about his experiences.
he is a teacher. the war, which he says is constant in Iraq and has always been part of the life there, took away his livelihood and his family. his wife and children were "blown up" he said. there was fear, always, just stepping out of his house. the danger was real and on-going.
Mr A says he is grateful that in America he can leave his home without fear of being bombed. he loves to take walks along the streets of Arlington without having to be constantly on guard for his life. he calls it "PEACE".
i wanted to listen more but there were others waiting for me and i had to leave him to sit on his own, enjoying the calm. he had planned to go home for his lunch but with some pleading was convinced to eat with us. he seemed to even, in his timid and reserved way, enjoy the socialization with the others at his table.
i had to leave the room away from the crowd for a bit to absorb - and to cry. how sad that this educated and productive professional has lost his loved ones and is now in a country so far from his birth, struggling to learn the language, living in low income housing, on food stamps.
and then i realized the true gift i had received - seeing the quiet joy he feels at having the freedoms that i so often take for granted...something that he could not attain in his former land.
and so i give thanks for living in a place where i can say what i feel, live where i want and be relatively secure in taking a walk in the park.
i was gifted with hope - hope that this country does still hold the offer of refuge for those fleeing oppression; hope that we can muster up the compassion to at least tolerate and even appreciate diversity; hope that we can band together to present an example for global unity.
i am blessed.
Salaam.
and yesterday i was blessed with that very opportunity. i had the privilege through a job assignment to meet an Iraqi refugee. my task was to get the paperwork done to sign him up for our senior meal program. now Mr A can speak only a smattering of English and my Arabic is limited to 'peace' & 'love'. so it was through much gesturing and maneuvering that we completed his enrollment forms.
his demeanor was one of humility and quiet...almost as though he did not want to be seen. it made me feel sad. it must have been trying for him to entertain my respectful but somewhat pushy determination to get the answers to the nosey questions on the forms.
i really wanted to ask how he has been treated here given the climate of hate that has pervaded the news lately. but i held my tongue as i listened intently leaning close and reaching for a communication that bridges the language gap.
i have learned to embrace miracles when they come my way and to be open to hearing what is really being said.
we finished the forms and i admired Mr A's signature - so different from my own and really pretty. he showed me how to write my name in Arabic too and it is lovely.
then with more signs and 'charades' we talked about his experiences.
he is a teacher. the war, which he says is constant in Iraq and has always been part of the life there, took away his livelihood and his family. his wife and children were "blown up" he said. there was fear, always, just stepping out of his house. the danger was real and on-going.
Mr A says he is grateful that in America he can leave his home without fear of being bombed. he loves to take walks along the streets of Arlington without having to be constantly on guard for his life. he calls it "PEACE".
i wanted to listen more but there were others waiting for me and i had to leave him to sit on his own, enjoying the calm. he had planned to go home for his lunch but with some pleading was convinced to eat with us. he seemed to even, in his timid and reserved way, enjoy the socialization with the others at his table.
i had to leave the room away from the crowd for a bit to absorb - and to cry. how sad that this educated and productive professional has lost his loved ones and is now in a country so far from his birth, struggling to learn the language, living in low income housing, on food stamps.
and then i realized the true gift i had received - seeing the quiet joy he feels at having the freedoms that i so often take for granted...something that he could not attain in his former land.
and so i give thanks for living in a place where i can say what i feel, live where i want and be relatively secure in taking a walk in the park.
i was gifted with hope - hope that this country does still hold the offer of refuge for those fleeing oppression; hope that we can muster up the compassion to at least tolerate and even appreciate diversity; hope that we can band together to present an example for global unity.
i am blessed.
Salaam.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
recovering my HAPPY
i lost my happy. i do not recall ever misplacing it before. as i have previously posted i know with all my heart that one can feel sad, or discontented, or depressed and remain happy. that is because happiness is not an emotion; it is a state of being. i have worked (yes sometimes really hard) in my life to maintain that state. through a lot of conflicting feelings and the ensuing emotion & behavior stemming from those i have held tight to my happy.
then i had surgery 3 weeks ago and something shocking and completely unexpected happened. i awoke from the anesthesia in a state of absolute panic - FEAR took me over and hid the happiness i hold so dear.
i have spent these past few weeks searching for it. wise and generous friends have helped me recover it. AND, i have a plan, an agenda now for getting rid of the fear and disolving the panic...and it is already working. as soon as i really released the anxiety of the loss, the happiness resurfaced. it had been covered over with layers of seemingly uncontollable emotion and pain.
the fear was of dying, simply put. i could not breathe, or so i thought. maybe the anesthesia brought some deep-rooted issue to the fore and caused it...i intend to get to that real issue and deal with it with the help of a therapist and a shaman and my loved ones.
even during the car wreck in '08 i did not lose the happy - read 'dimensions' post. all that i experienced during the spinning of the car and the surrealness of it did not take away the fact that i have joy in my life. even the passing through the dying part of all those dimensions in that wreck did not derail my connection to the goodness of the universe.
somehow though this surgery did knock me off that track. held me in a grip that i could not shake and put me in agony. i know i allowed this - that is not a blame or guilt or fault statement; it is just the truth. i have to find now how i let the fear overcome my determination to be happy. and i will. because, i believe, happiness is a choice!
so today i can type this to you and say in total honesty that i have re-found my happy.
in joy renewed i give gratitude:
to YOU who have stood by me and advised me and 'partied' with me (& for me when i could not do it myself).
to this amazing life.
to God.
to ME.
then i had surgery 3 weeks ago and something shocking and completely unexpected happened. i awoke from the anesthesia in a state of absolute panic - FEAR took me over and hid the happiness i hold so dear.
i have spent these past few weeks searching for it. wise and generous friends have helped me recover it. AND, i have a plan, an agenda now for getting rid of the fear and disolving the panic...and it is already working. as soon as i really released the anxiety of the loss, the happiness resurfaced. it had been covered over with layers of seemingly uncontollable emotion and pain.
the fear was of dying, simply put. i could not breathe, or so i thought. maybe the anesthesia brought some deep-rooted issue to the fore and caused it...i intend to get to that real issue and deal with it with the help of a therapist and a shaman and my loved ones.
even during the car wreck in '08 i did not lose the happy - read 'dimensions' post. all that i experienced during the spinning of the car and the surrealness of it did not take away the fact that i have joy in my life. even the passing through the dying part of all those dimensions in that wreck did not derail my connection to the goodness of the universe.
somehow though this surgery did knock me off that track. held me in a grip that i could not shake and put me in agony. i know i allowed this - that is not a blame or guilt or fault statement; it is just the truth. i have to find now how i let the fear overcome my determination to be happy. and i will. because, i believe, happiness is a choice!
so today i can type this to you and say in total honesty that i have re-found my happy.
in joy renewed i give gratitude:
to YOU who have stood by me and advised me and 'partied' with me (& for me when i could not do it myself).
to this amazing life.
to God.
to ME.
Monday, May 31, 2010
IT (no S.King, not you)
lots of talking about "IT". sitting with "it", looking at "it", being with "it"... ah listening to "it".
suppose it can be a lot of things. whatever one is focused on at any particular moment can be 'it'. of course in this blog we mean grief. and the little miracles that come along with it.
so i have spent much time recently trying to get close to IT. and ya know what! when i do get close there are times i turn around & run from it. i hide...
when i am all alone, no one else around. covers up again - over my head. hoping if i shut my eyes IT can not see me. forgetting to seek the center. forgetting to breathe.
and then awaking to joy once again. a simple thing like a concert in the street fills me up. a swim in the pool does the same. and that gorgeous sunset the other night.
the thing about IT is that we can still live with it. still have joy.
that is because we are given a life-line that allows us to tap into a great well of energy & renewal. i keep forgetting to open the faucet & slurp up the goodness.
i stopped the depression meds a couple of months ago & can tell that what ales me now, brings me down, precipitates tears is what i was missing when i was on them. the medication not only took away the "edge" the docs & therapists speak of, they stopped me from feeling the pain. delayed the real grieving.
when i told the doc i was ready to get off she asked why. curious question. because i am done hiding, i am ready to be IN IT. i don't think she really agreed but she trusted me (which says a lot). i used some tact this time (not always the case for me i know!) & told her what i know docs need to hear as far as being better & being able to cope. did not share that i really needed to feel.
that the meds kept me cushioned. made the blows a bit softer, the anger less sharp, the pain not so heavy. and (see the guilt post) some layers of the grief were not even visible in the fog of medication.
one can go around, over, under all the "ITS" but it is only when we go through it that we begin to grow.
now, without that padding, i am beginning to re-feel the sadness & all those other grief-labels. but now i also am feeling life's joy. so, while i may cry often-loud-long, i laugh & sing & dance just as often-loud-long. maybe more so.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
and last but not least...
here comes GUILT; dragging its lazy ass out of the starting gate! what took you so long? was it i holding you back? were you invisible?
imagine the invisible runner.
maybe you were just waiting until the audience (me of course) became complacent. smug.
and, please, dear reader, do not even ask who will be first crossing the finish line. in this marathon there is no winner. there will be no finish line to cross. no parade on my psychic main street. and certainly no confetti! this is a lifetime event...it will not end in victory nor in defeat. it will not end.
ok marathon metaphors aside, i am finally-> 2 + years after my mom crossed over-> feeling those grotesque gut twistings. those emotions that feel like they have been masquerading all along (oh no - groans here) in a charade that only now is recognizable. the mask fell the cloak dropped the game ended.
ok ok - >
this was meant to be a serious soliloquy on my current unwanted & yet unavoidable aquiescence to the one feeling that i had hoped beyond hope would not come to me. i actually had the audacity to think that i could escape it. i am so much more enlightened than that! i am soooo past those thoughts.
my arrogance has been amusing when i look back and really see it.
how could i have done so? how could i have deceived myself so successfully?
well i guess that is not the main question here is it? the real question is what do i do now? the old response is to fall into the guilt head first & wallow.
i am choosing not to do that.
i could keep pushing it back even now, seeing it...i could ignore it for a while longer. ah but that only delays the depth of the pain. and ignoring it is painful too somehow.
so i have decided to post it. admit it - out loud. to me. to you. to God.
and even as i write that last part i know i am forgiven for any perceived guilt. mom has certainly no reason to bother with trifles like that now. anything i think i might have done differently for her is moot. it is human to feel that other decisions might have lead to other outcomes. and Mom obviously has no need of human things now.
and God forgave before i knew what i was hiding. my tiny little ego self can hide from me but not from God.
you, my reader, will most probably forgive me too. and family ... i know you hold no qualms toward me. so the trouble then of course again is me.
can i look regret (for action not taken quickly enough or thoughts unexpressed or choices made in fear instead of wisdom) in the distorted face and say i forgive myself?
maybe. i will work on it. i will sit with the leftovers of fear and release them. i will stand up against the temptation to lean into anger. and when the depression revisits i will simply explain that it is not welcome here. yeah i will work on it. and i will be free of it. i will.
imagine the invisible runner.
maybe you were just waiting until the audience (me of course) became complacent. smug.
and, please, dear reader, do not even ask who will be first crossing the finish line. in this marathon there is no winner. there will be no finish line to cross. no parade on my psychic main street. and certainly no confetti! this is a lifetime event...it will not end in victory nor in defeat. it will not end.
ok marathon metaphors aside, i am finally-> 2 + years after my mom crossed over-> feeling those grotesque gut twistings. those emotions that feel like they have been masquerading all along (oh no - groans here) in a charade that only now is recognizable. the mask fell the cloak dropped the game ended.
ok ok - >
this was meant to be a serious soliloquy on my current unwanted & yet unavoidable aquiescence to the one feeling that i had hoped beyond hope would not come to me. i actually had the audacity to think that i could escape it. i am so much more enlightened than that! i am soooo past those thoughts.
my arrogance has been amusing when i look back and really see it.
how could i have done so? how could i have deceived myself so successfully?
well i guess that is not the main question here is it? the real question is what do i do now? the old response is to fall into the guilt head first & wallow.
i am choosing not to do that.
i could keep pushing it back even now, seeing it...i could ignore it for a while longer. ah but that only delays the depth of the pain. and ignoring it is painful too somehow.
so i have decided to post it. admit it - out loud. to me. to you. to God.
and even as i write that last part i know i am forgiven for any perceived guilt. mom has certainly no reason to bother with trifles like that now. anything i think i might have done differently for her is moot. it is human to feel that other decisions might have lead to other outcomes. and Mom obviously has no need of human things now.
and God forgave before i knew what i was hiding. my tiny little ego self can hide from me but not from God.
you, my reader, will most probably forgive me too. and family ... i know you hold no qualms toward me. so the trouble then of course again is me.
can i look regret (for action not taken quickly enough or thoughts unexpressed or choices made in fear instead of wisdom) in the distorted face and say i forgive myself?
maybe. i will work on it. i will sit with the leftovers of fear and release them. i will stand up against the temptation to lean into anger. and when the depression revisits i will simply explain that it is not welcome here. yeah i will work on it. and i will be free of it. i will.
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