I'm going to make it!

No Dick Clark ball dropping ... Peter off to pick up Charlie ... New Year's will come in with no great pomp and circumstance.  Nice evening sitting by the fire sipping champagne.

Really.  All I wanted to do was read my book.

Happy New Year!  Gonna hit the button so this checks in on 2010.

GTNY 2010

On our annual Girl's Trip to New York (GTNY!) we went to see the Broadway play, Next to Normal.  Wow.

It is not by any stretch of the imagination what one would call an uplifting play.  At most parts there were tears running down my cheeks and many others where I was downright sobbing.  Sometimes I even had to laugh because during quiet scenes you could hear other people sniffling and stifling sobs.  I guess the emotions would hit different people at different times.  The theatre was charged -- at all times -- with the energy that these actors put into their roles.  At the end of the play, Maren Mazzie who plays Di, the mother who has led her life since the death of her son in depression and diagnosis' that include bipolar disorder, looks physically drained and exhausted.  I can not imagine playing that part everyday.  When the play ended, everyone stood up almost immediately.  There was no question in anyone's mind that we had seen all these actors had to offer -- from beginning to end.  Amazing.

I loved it so much I would go see it again.  Hallie enjoyed it, and Maddie and Emma, who are 17, also enjoyed it as well.  They related to the teenaged girl, whereas there is no human mother who hasn't felt crazy like Diana at one point in their lives. The music is incredible, the set absolutely captivating in its simplicity and you sit on the edge of your seat from the moment it starts.  I didn't want intermission to come, and I didn't want it to end either!  GO SEE IT!  You won't be sorry.  And as an added bonus, you can get reasonably priced tickets.  We sat in the second row mezzanine, and due to the fact the set is in three tiers, it was a perfect spot.  Perfect.  I am listening to the soundtrack now.  Powerful.

This year we mixed it up a little -- and stayed in SOHO instead of Times Square.  I didn't miss the hubbub of Times Square at all, and loved the "realness" of the area we were in, which allowed us to access by foot the Village, Little Italy, Tribeca, SoHo and China town.  What is especially nice is that you don't have to battle any crowds in that part of the city -- it was pleasant walking around (though China Town was a bit mobbed) and we had amazing sunsets from our hotel looking out across the river at New Jersey.  The statue of liberty was within our view too.  It was great.

There were no snowstorms to drive through -- in fact both drives down it was sunny and blue skies -- we hit next to no traffic because we took the "back way," which was through Vermont and Western Mass. versus picking up the southern crowd in Londonderry and heading there through Worcester and other highly traffic laden areas.  Loved that!  My sister didn't like the idea of traveling 50 miles north to go south, but even she HAS to admit that at rush hour dealing with mountains and darkness versus stop and go traffic was a plus!  (RIGHT?!!!!!!)
 


Just before we left the city yesterday around noon, we made a stop in Dean and Deluca to grab some sandwiches for the ride home.  Wow.

 At first I thought how amazing it would be to have such a place nearby, but after purchasing a handful of items and gasping at the cost, I think it is just as well it is out of my reach! 

So that is the story of  GTNY 2010. 

Bear necessities

 

I am going to begin this with a disclaimer:  Yes, it all sounds weird and new-agey and even freaky.  And it is all of those things, but it is also much, much more.

Not last weekend but the weekend before I attended a workshop on the basics of core shamanism.  I sort of stumbled upon it -- I wasn't seeking additional information on shamanism -- but it sounded appealing. (And I could add that the angel cards were all for it, but I suppose one should only introduce one layer of "out there" at a time!)

 I had met with a shaman in Sedona several years ago, but this was entirely different.  This was about going on journeys on your own for specific reasons, and also learning what shamanism is (at its core).  And really, all it is, from my perspective, is checking in.

Let me explain.  First of all, trying to explain a journey is like trying to describe being in love with someone.  For the most part, people understand love, but all words that you use -- he is cute, funny, makes me laugh, completes me (hahaha) -- are all pretty insufficient in terms of describing the way you feel.  The way you feel is just good.  Right?  Just filled up and warm and happy and ecstatic and the world is just a wonderful place to be.

That is what a journey is like, in part.  The details of a journey -- listening to a drum beat, taking an intent and focusing on it, visualizing yourself going into the lower world or upper world -- are all fairly universal in the world of shamanic journeying.  Is it real?  I guess that would be the same question as is love real.  Do you feel love?  Because you can't see it and properly describe it doesn't really negate its existence.  (Though I guess this isn't a good comparison, because you can absolutely see love.)

Over the course of the weekend we did 8 journeys.  Some were intense, some were huge let downs (like my first one where nothing happened and I couldn't get myself to enter the lower world through a tree, or anything, and was thoroughly frustrated) and some were incredibly profound.  By the end of the second day, around 3:00, I was done ... and in truth, it was a lot to take in over the course of two days.  I sat there for the next three hours wondering why the hell I was there!  And when it finally did conclude, everyone began chatting with each other and exchanging email addresses and the like, and I just left.  Like I said, I was done.

I felt infused with energy on my long ride home and yet, was not sure a shaman I would be!  They had discussed other workshops and I didn't feel drawn to them at all, and overall, I was glad I had done it, but I wasn't excited about pursuing it any further.

And yet, there was this residual feeling the entire following week that was just so amazing.  I felt different, I felt calm and happy and full of love.  It felt as though I'd been given an innoculation of BIG LOVE and it was just pouring out of my pores.  It was wonderful!



And yet, I did not pursue another journey.  I didn't meditate or do any of my morning rituals.  I guess, in truth, I was just coasting on my high, completely loving the love.  Then yesterday I was so hungry, I couldn't seem to eat enough.  I had my regular kefir/smoothie/coffee breakfast and it was as though I hadn't ingested a thing.  I had an english muffin and a leftover piece of pizza ... and that was pretty much how the day went on.  I am having a party tonight and yesterday I created a menu that was bizarre in its content because EVERYTHING sounded so delicious.  I had an appetite that could not be quenched, and that disgusted, bloating feeling you get when you overeat just didn't come.  So this morning when I woke up hungry, I thought, what is going on?

So I thought, maybe it is time to journey again.  The one thing that I did not meet success with over that weekend was meeting with my power animal.  Nearly everyone there had one, and while I have had experiences in nature with power animals, the journey world did not offer one up.  So this morning I downloaded a drumming CD, sat down, put on my blindfold thing and off I went in search of my power animal.

I hate snakes, as I have mentioned before, and my greatest fear was that a snake would be a power animal.  And sure enough, I was in this stream when it was suddenly writhing with snakes.  I wasn't afraid of them, though I wasn't all yeah, yahoo, I am surrounded by snakes, but they kept asking me, why?  Why are you afraid of us?  (And since I have no idea, I am returning at a later date to ask that very question!)  But this trip was about power animals, namely mine, and please angels above, do NOT make it a snake!  After a little more chatting with the snakes (and when I inquired as to whether or not they were my power animal, they never answered, which is a GOOD sign!) this huge bird flew in and sort of landed.  I could see the head, and it kept turning towards me, it had a yellow beak and a white head and black feathers .... and it was quite large, and he scared those snakes away, for which I was very grateful.  But he wouldn't speak to me either, or answer my question of are you my power animal.  So I moved on.  I ambled into a cave and there was a drum circle with (Indians?) sitting around a fire, but they were below me, and I sat at the edge and watched them.  And suddenly a bear sat down next to me.  Are you my power animal?  I asked (does anyone remember the book, Are You My Mother?") That is exactly what this journey felt like!  And the bear nodded!  Yahoo, I had found my power animal.  At first he was a black bear and kind of stiff looking.  Then he turned brown and was a little softer, and then I explained to him that I had had a stuffed bear once that was all cute and cuddly, and he said he could be that bear too.  (Don't you love the lower world?!  So accommodating!)  Then he wrapped me up in a huge bear hug and just held me ... and that feeling of love just pulsed through me.  It was sheer heaven.

This sure seems to be too cuddly of a bear to act as a power animal, but there was no fear with the bear.  The bear was kind and loving.  I looked it up, a bear as your power animal in shamanism, and it stated:

If you have bear as power animal, you will most probably be quieter during the winter months, which is similar to the bear hibernating during the winter. But in the spring you must awaken to seek whatever opportunities arise. Be fearless in standing up for what you believe in. You are also encouraged to use your abilities as a natural healer. Bear is linked to trees, considered to be natural antennas, joining the heavens and the Earth. Bear also has ties to the seven colour rays of the Universal Light, as well as Lunar associations, linking the conscious and subconscious mind.

Hibernating during the cold winter months, means bears know instinctively when the time is right and where to go. They also know when to wake back up. From this we can see it is good to know and realise that we sometimes need to be alone, to ponder and reflect, to examine our thoughts and emotions, where we are headed on our life journey. We need to trust and follow our instincts. Bear is active day and night, not like other animals, symbolising his connection with solar energy, strength and power, lunar energy and intuition. This enhances and teaches us how to develop these qualities within ourselves.

Bear medicine teaches us introspection, aiding us to digest (I found this word most interesting considering my food experience yesterday!)  our experiences and to discover that we have within ourselves the answers to all our questions. We all have bags of wisdom, if only we slow down and listen to what our intuition, our inner knowing voice is telling us. It is useful to be with yourself at times, so you can be yourself and are able to uncover your own answers to whatever challenge you are facing. On the other hand, just like Bear you need to know when to come out of 'hibernation' and to interact with others.

Sometimes bears are over confident and to quick to act on their fiery anger. Although possessing perhaps just a trace of fear they can forget caution, an important characteristic to own. If bear is your guide try not to forget caution. If you are unaware, or even disregard your limits, this can have consequences you may not want! 

All very interesting.  During the workshop we had to go on a journey for a partner to seek a healing for them.  My partner said that he thought my power animal was a raccoon.  And that so didn't feel right.  I just nodded and thanked him, but like I said, it didn't feel right.

The bear feels totally right. 

What a difference a decade makes

This picture was taken at Christmas time roughly 10 years ago -- give or take a few years.  This was before trim, carpet and lighting (though we were inventive and used icicle lighting year round for a number of years!)  This year our tree is much smaller -- when we first built this living room all we could think about was the BIGGEST tree we could fit.  But this year I wanted to keep the game table where the tree usually goes, and I created a much more intimate space.

The only thing that remains the same is the Morris chair -- the most expensive piece of furniture I ever bought -- and it goes to show, if you want something to last, and maintain its original integrity, pay for it!  The leather chair that is in the far right corner is now in my bedroom and is so bleached out there is no way you would have ever thought it was brown!

This one's for you, Maddie!

My daughter Maddie, who is 17, was sitting on the staircase by my office with her computer in her lap.  She commented that she read my blog, and did I know that?  I said that I didn't and that I was surprised that she did.  (She has never been a big reader!)  Then she said that she really only liked the ones that mentioned her.  Which got me to thinking.  I follow a blog where the woman writes these amazing posts on the birthdays of her children.  They are such beautiful and amazing tributes and I am always quite moved.  Her children are young, but they will always have that.

So this one's for you, Maddie!  (If you click on any of the pictures, they will get big!)



Maddie was born about seven years after my first child, Hallie.  This was completely on purpose -- I truly did not have the capacity at the time to take on anything more than one child, a full-time job, etc.  But as the years went by, both Peter and I definitely knew we wanted more kids.  So my sister and I chatted one day and decided that we would both get pregnant together, and we figured out the math so that we would end up with summer babies (and the summer to hang on the dock in the sun!)

Which is exactly what happened.  Maddie and her cousin Emma are nine days apart.  We have a scandalous amount of pictures of the two of them together -- it was a photo shoot just about every time.  They were such cute, cute, cute babies with entirely different personalities.  And that summer (they were born in June) we did spend countless hours on the dock.  But relaxing?  Ummm, no.  I remember spending an inordinate amount of time trying to get them to sleep.  We had constructed a sort of tent out of a Sunguard structure and then tarps to keep the sun off their white little baby skin.  And we would put them in there in their carriages and truly believe that they would snooze while we hung in the sun.  Yeah.  No.  Maddie was never what one would call a good napper.  She liked to fuss for hours prior -- and it was very, very exasperating!  I can remember coming home from work and she would be in her bouncy seat on the counter, and she would just cry.  I would try to nurse her, to comfort her, to do ANYTHING.  But that is what she wanted to do, and that is what she did!

She was independent and enjoyed exploring on her own.  It makes me laugh now, to see her dressed this way, because dresses just never were her.  I tried.  Hallie had worn dresses exclusively as a young child, and they were so much fun to buy.  Maddie wore dresses when she didn't have all that much control at the age of two -- but it wasn't that much longer after this that she took charge of her own appearance.

She may be smiling sweetly here, but she had another bag packed with "her" clothes for after this picture was taken!  I loved this dress, but she did not.  She said it was too long and when she played on the floor it got in the way.  So in truth this picture does not depict what Maddie was like at 3.  She also had a younger brother at this time and was not particularly pleased with the situation.  It took a number of years before she viewed him as anything more than an intrusion on her ordered life!  At this age she was very neat, she dressed neatly and she enjoyed playing with her Legos or laying on the floor drawing.  She had two best friends at school (daycare)  Emily and Nichole, and even spent the night at Emily's.  (This may have been the first and last time, if memory serves me right, that she actually did this!)

This is Maddie's third grade (I am pretty sure) class and you can see she doesn't look too happy. (she is on the left on the floor wearing the red and black striped shirt and jeans.) Maddie did not take to school right away -- in fact, it was very hard for her, she didn't want to be left there.  I found it a little strange because she had done very well in the two daycare's that she went to -- one in Manchester and then at Windy Hill in New London.  She made friends easily in both, but something changed when she went to school (real school).  On the first day of school I had to stay for a long time so that she could get acclimated.  But I could tell she never felt truly comfortable there.

You can tell in her face that she's not in her comfort zone.  But I didn't really know what to do about it, to be honest.  She did fine academically, but it definitely was not an environment that fed her spirit.  Her daycare situations had appealed to her creative side and the hands-on experiental learning environment clearly suited her.  Public school did not serve any of my children well.  If it was an entity that could be harmed, I would do so.   For all the harm it did to my children.  BABOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

Look at the difference in her facial expression -- the above is a school picture and the below is one I took.  Interesting.

This was about the time Maddie seriously became a boy!  Above she was still allowing me to keep some length to her hair; but then she became adamant that it be short.  Everyone mistook her as a boy; and she loved it!  She had a friend who was actually horrified the day he found out she was a girl!  She had scorned traditional female bathing suits and would just wear shorts and no shirt.  Then, well, I will admit, I insisted that she wear a regular bathing suit, well, because it was TIME!  And her poor friend said to his mother, why is Maddie wearing a girl's bathing suit?  HAHAHAHA!

Maddie loved to ski and it was when she was about 10 or so that she started to pull away from her pack of friends in terms of racing ability.  But she was never boastful or prideful about it -- she just took it in stride and never took herself too seriously.  You can see here that she is once again allowing me to keep her hair a little longer!  (Allowing me means that she isn't taking a pair of scissors and cutting it off herself.  But instead letting me take her to the hairdressers where it was cut right!)  She will still do this to this day -- grab a pair of scissors and demand that her hair be cut or else she will do it herself!  Both Peter and Nana will accomodate her -- but I actually know I can't cut hair, so I don't.  Not even a trim.  I'm sorry, I just like long hair!

Yes!  Like this length.  Maddie does not like this picture, taken when she was in 8th grade.  And it really doesn't depict who she is, because I don't even remember her hair being that long.  It must have been for a minute!

While Maddie did really well during her short career as a ski racer, a torn ACL received in France at the beginning of her freshman year at Proctor was really the end of that.  She skied the next two seasons, but her heart and body were never able to return to that sweet place where races are won and it's all still fun.

But her one consistent love has been softball.

I have enjoyed attending all the races and games -- Maddie is a natural athlete and fun to watch.  She did have a rotten soccer coach at school who decided to undermine her confidence and abilities and make her think less of herself -- but I guess he just stands in the same category as that creepy (entity!) Public School.  I guess we all need to have certain lessons in life -- or situations that seem so wrong -- in order to grow, and one thing Maddie has said she might want to do is coach sports.  She is going to major in sports management in college and no doubt she will take the lessons of being the victim of a heartless son-of-a-bitch and be a good and fair coach.  I have no doubt that she will.  She doesn't even get that mad at this person -- but then she doesn't see what he does to her.  Oh well.  Moving on.  Fortunately we have softball season to look forward to, and I am sure it will be a great one!

And so I will end this blog kinda sorta where it began -- on the dock!  But Maddie doesn't cry on the dock anymore!  She is a beautiful, caring, sensitive and smart young woman who still plays with squirt guns and tortures her brother!

Suffering from PDS?

Even my kids agree that despite my intentions to "tone down" Christmas presents, I have yet to succeed.  And each year that is my goal -- and then, I start to think OH NO!  There's not enough.

Enough what?

When I was in middle school I came downstairs on Christmas morning and went to "my chair."  Just as my kids do, my brother and sister and I chose chairs where our gifts would be placed by Santa.  In middle school I was well aware that there was no Santa, but one surely did need a spot claimed as theirs for gifts to go.  Hence, my chair.  We don't hang stocking from the mantle, but instead each stocking is placed on the corresponding chair, and I am pretty sure we did this during my childhood too -- though my memories are a bit murky.  Anywho, that particular Christmas morning there was a big pink stuffed dog on my chair.  As the eldest, I was quite sure that my mother a.k.a. Santa had mistakenly put it on the wrong chair.  I quickly brought this to her attention, and she said no, it was mine.  It was mine?

I considered this, as I gazed back at the wrapped presents on my chair, and realized that the unwrapped pink dog was the Santa gift, as per our tradition.  A pink dog?  I had never been a stuffed animal child, and I certainly hadn't turned into a stuffed animal teenager, so I was confused.  I mean seriously, what was up with the pink dog?

I of course could not let it go, and after all the presents were opened and the day had drawn on and relatives had arrived and the adults were imbibing in a little holiday cheer, I finally got my answer.  My mother, who had been fielding pink dog questions all day, looked at me in exasperation and said that at the final hour, after all the presents had been wrapped and set upon chairs, my chair looked a little sparse.  So the pink dog (one has to assume it was to go to my younger sister, who liked dolls and stuffed animals enough to cherish them) ended up on my chair.  To make me feel better.  When in fact, it had had the opposite effect.  First, I thought my parents had made a mistake, which wasn't earth shaking, but still, at that age you are doing anything you can to hold on to the magic of the season despite no longer having the myth upheld -- so if they had just taken the dog and handed it to my sister, all would have been fine.  But no, instead they insisted that it was mine, which therefore led me to believe they had lost their minds ... which is always a scary thought for a child.  Especially when you are firm in your belief that you make it pretty clear what type of person you are.  I was a tomboy and I rode horses and I played in the woods with boys (and I PLAYED  and built forts and hide and seek, etc. in the woods with boys, not like the modern day version of a kid my age) but at no time during the 12-14 years of my life had I indicated I liked stuffed animals.  Pink was okay, I have always liked pink.  But not on a dog.

 

Every time I looked at that dog, it made me wonder.  I was in possession of a pink stuffed animal I didn't want because my parent's felt BAD that I didn't have enough presents.  It didn't make any sense.  And it still doesn't -- and yet, I am guilty of it myself.  Sometimes I will purchase something not because I know my child will love it, but because I am at a loss of what to get them and I have already purchased X amounts of presents for the other two, so it has to be fair.  Right?

I don't know, I really don't.  Every year there are one or two people who I could buy for over and over and over.  It is never the same people twice; and it is crazy frustrating.  This year it is my mother and sister.  I have already purchased their PERFECT presents, but every day I come up with a new idea -- which would be equal to what I have already come up with.  Last year it was Hallie and Peter.   This year they are near impossible -- can't come up with a thing!  Maddie and Charlie provided me with lists and since all Charlie wanted was an Xbox 360, well he's pretty much done.  As the youngest, I guess it is his year to realize that knowing what you are getting for Christmas is the best way to ensure that you get what you want!

I have wrapped the presents I have bought thus far, and because Maddie and Charlie are so competitive, I have resorted to not putting their actual names on the presents.  Last year I used numbers -- but they are smart and quickly figured out that 1 was Hallie and 2 was Maddie and 3 was Charlie.  As Maddie said, either way, I am two!  Which left Charlie to moan that 2 had the most presents!  Of course.  This year I came up with random, crazy names -- Zorba, Gemmy, Simian and Malachite.  It is interesting to listen to them try to figure out who is who.  I have thrown Peter into the mis-named mix as well to keep them all guessing.  Their biggest concern is that I will forget who is who -- which I did last year because I kept telling them so many different ways that it could work, I forgot myself!  (In fact, I think Hallie was 3 and Charlie was 1 because I assumed they would figure it out?)  I don't know.  No one received a pink dog. 

That I know for sure!

I was also wondering why I was so crazy organized this year -- even more so than in the past.  I know that I like to get the majority of my online shopping done before Thanksgiving just because of shipping reasons (for example, all the presents I ordered before Black Friday/CyberMonday came within days of ordering.  Days.  Everything I've ordered post-Thanksgiving hasn't even shipped.  It really makes a huge difference -- the volume they get after T-Day increases tenfold.)  My goal in the past has to have everything done before our annual trip to New York City -- and with the exception of a few stocking stuffers, have done this for quite some time.  But this year I feel compelled to have it all done even earlier than that.  I just want to avoid the stress of it all.  I really do.  I know this is based on years and years and years of trying to fit Christmas shopping around deadlines at work -- and every year in the spirit of post-traumatic-holiday-stress-disorder (PTHSD) -- I start to panic that I won't get it all done.  It's funny how something is so deeply ingrained in you -- and even those last years at work after I had figured out how to reduce the workload during that crazy holiday period -- it still persisted, that nagging, panicky, heaviness settling on the chest feeling that I will have to be in a mall surrounded by thousands of people, listening to Christmas music and feeling the brush of a thousand different coats as people try to get past me to get to the next store, carrying armloads of bags and hurrying.  Hurrying.  No smiles, just grim determination.

But despite it all, I do not want to fall into pink dog syndrome -- I don't want to be out there purchasing presents for the sake of creating volume -- on someone's chair!  I can not honestly say that if my parents had put the pink dog on its proper chair, whether or not I would have counted the presents and dutifully noted to one and all that I had been short changed!  My memories of Christmas are all good -- I don't have any ghosts of Christmas pasts banging on my door late at night causing me to lament any shortages.  The one present that is deeply etched in my memory is a small little record player.  Oh, how I loved that thing.  It was not much bigger than a breadbox -- okay, for all of us here who never dealt with bread boxes, it was about the size of a waffle maker!  And you would put in the small records (78's?)  I can't even remember what they were called, so you would put the teeny one song record into it, and then close the top and it would play.  I LOVED that thing.  Loved it.  I loved it as much as I love my Kindle, and that says a LOT!

We still lived in Bedford, so I was younger than 5th grade, and I couldn't tell you another present that I have received over the years that touched me like that one did.  I also can't tell you if I even asked for it.  All I remember is loving it.  Absolutely loving it.  It was tan and it had a handle that you could carry it around, like a small pocketbook (and we all know I love my pocketbooks!) and it was compact and perfect.  Loved it.  My guess is that I had no idea something like it even existed -- and that it was a Santa gift -- and I can still remember wondering what it was at first -- and then when I figured it out, it was the most incredible feeling.  How can our children who have grown up with iPods ever understand that kind of feeling?  That I, as a child, could carry around my own portable music making machine, that I could take it outside (it ran on batteries) and out into the woods and sing to my heart's content?

Maybe that is what was so special -- receiving something I didn't even know I wanted.

I feel so jaded -- because I can't for the life of me think of another present EVER that touched me that way.   And now, in order to ensure that I do get what I want, I buy most of my own Christmas presents, or tell everyone exactly what I want.  But now I think it explains why I love to try to surprise someone with something I think they will love -- I rarely ask people what they want -- because I am trying to give them what I experienced all those years ago. 

I guess we should all give thanks to the Pink Dog who reminded me of that wonderful present!



I was searching for the little mini record player and when this popped up I remembered having it too!!!!   It also reminded me that I loved, loved, loved my EasyBake oven!  Ahh, memories of Christmas presents past!    NEXT POST!  Stay tuned.