Enjoy the Ride

I’ve always said that life is a rollercoaster.  Take in each moment as it comes.  Savor the good times, and when the shit hits the fan, keep moving forward… it will get better. 

I’ve been in transition over the last 18 months, becoming more alive, aware and present in body and mind.  My daughter caught me one morning, lost in the moment, looking out into our backyard with a peaceful, happy gaze.  “What are you smiling about?”, she asked.  I didn’t even realize I was smiling.  It’s just that I was so completely happy.  Life was good.  Family was good.  Future was good.  I told her that I was just taking it all in, with gratitude, because I know that life is full of ups and downs, and I was loving the moment. 

That was six months ago.  Just a couple weeks after that, my world was completely turned upside down.  Shattered.  I can only compare it to a sudden death of a loved one.  Slowly, I’ve been picking up the pieces and trying to make sense of it all.  I’m not going to share the details of my personal tragedy, as I don’t believe it serves any good purpose.  We all go through shit in our lives.  While it’s important to have someone close to talk to, it’s not cool to air your dirty laundry in public.

It’s not the first time I’ve had a “holy-shit-this-cannot-possibly-be-my-life” kind of event. When I was 30 I became a single mom of 2 beautiful, young children.   I spent a lot of time asking “Why me?”   “What had I done…what had my kids done to deserve this?”  Now, I’m sad, I hurt, but I have far too much love in me and around me to dwell on the sadness and pain.  The growth I’ve experienced over the past 18 months has given me the ability to see beyond circumstances.  My faith is strong.  My future is bright.  More importantly is this present moment, because that’s all we really ever have.  Right now is what’s real.  Right now life is good.  Right now has it’s share of headaches and heartaches, but fully feeling them is good.  Right now I’m thankful for my family, my friends, my teachers, my guardian angel, and the spirit of the living God that is alive and well within me.  Even in shitty circumstances, I just can’t help but shine. 

Then, I’ll get a call from a friend, and from a loving place they’ll ask how I’m doing.  Sometimes that’s all it takes and I’m a puddle.  Not of sadness, but of love.  My teacher Kerri described it perfectly… “It’s like pouring love into a wound.”  It is exactly that.  My life is so richly blessed with amazing people.  Just when I need it, I am touched by a friend, or a stranger, or a reading that totally speaks to me.  I believe those connections and messages are there for all of us if we are open to them.  That’s the way this crazy universe works.  So, forward I go, heart wide open.  The coaster is clicking its way up to the top of a hill and I can’t see the tracks ahead, but I’m confident it’s going to be one amazing ride. 

This photo is of my incredibly beautiful & talented daughter Hailey.  

She has a big heart, and this pic is a great reminder to lead with your heart. 

Getting Real at Level One

I just spent a week in Sedona at yoga teacher training with Barron Baptiste. 

Why?  I’m a commitment for growth.  I want to teach.  I want to live big, be awesome, and not hold back in life. 

The heart of this training is all about inquiry.  You dig deep and get real about where you are and where you want to be in life.  What are you afraid of?  What are you hiding from?  Where are you stuck?  What’s missing in your life? If you really take on these questions honestly, it’s a painfully beautiful unearthing and opening up of your heart and soul that leaves you perfectly empty, yet full of life’s richness and possibility. 

Wait, that says nothing about teaching yoga, right?  Yes, you learn Baptiste sequence, flow, and technique.   You practice teaching, and you break down essential cues and language. My teacher “tool belt” is full of great new ways to help students land in their bodies, expand their strength and deepen their practice.  But that’s kind of the side-dish of this journey.  The meat & potatoes (or eggs and avocado, as it were) was all about transformation, and I both experienced it and witnessed it on many levels that week. 

My life is in transition.  This training helped me open up and release pain, face my fears, and let go of knowing what my future will look like.  By letting go and being empty, you make room for grace.  Now, this moment, is all any of us really have.  I recognized where in my life I’m not being present.  I’ve got some work to do, and I’m facing my fears head on.  

It feels good. 

Practice.  Yoga is a practice, and we had plenty of it in Sedona.  The sweat and exhaustion of Barron’s kick-your-asana practice created a real physical sense of being present in my body.  It released stuck energy and left me feeling strong and powerful.  After Thursday’s practice, I think I felt every… single… cell in my body.   

It. Was. Awesome.

The really cool thing about transformation is that it’s like throwing a pebble into a lake.  

One life is changed and ca-plunk… the ripple in the water begins, and keeps spreading out, touching lives as it expands outward.  I met so many amazing people from all around the world.  I learned that while we all have different life experiences, we can all relate to the same emotions of the human experience.  It was an honor to be a part of Sedona Level 1, 2012.  I can only imagine the kind of ripple effect that will grow out of this group.

So, now what?  Right now I am present to the experience of peace.  I’m feeling grounded, ready to move forward.  I was just asked to join the amazing teaching team at The Funky Buddha.  I’m a yes.  I’m ready now.  I’m so honored to be able to share the gift of yoga.  My new way of being is of power.  I’m giving up the lie that I’m unprepared and I’m not good enough.  Because, hell… I’m awesome. 
P.S. So are you.  Go be awesomer.

Is it weird that I like to hang out with old people?

Elderly, sick, and dying people may not sound like a fun demographic to be around, but that’s not how I see it.  Each opportunity to spend time with someone in need is an opportunity for grace and enlightenment.  Every life has a story, and every encounter is ripe with possibility. 

Most of my connections come via Faith Hospice.  A homebound person in the community who needs a visitor, a nursing home patient who wants to connect with the outside world, a Faith Hospice resident who wants to receive Holy Eucharist… these are the scattered blessings in my life. 

You begin by emptying your cup.  As much as you might think you have something to give that the person might need, you enter each home, each room, with no agenda.  That’s pretty frightening at first.  We feel like we ought to share some wisdom, bring cheer, offer advice, but the only way to truly be there for someone is with an open heart and an empty cup. 

One of my favorite bible verses is Psalm 46:10, Be still and know that I am God.  I once had someone suggest I break the verse down, to its essence, and feel how powerful so few words can be.

Be still and know that I am God.

Be still and know that I am

Be still and know

Be still

Be.

I think of this verse often when I’m about to meet a new patient.  Empty cup, be still, Be.  What I find so beautiful is the authenticity of Hospice patients and their closest loved ones.  They open their hearts to me, a total stranger.  They share their lives, their losses, their loves… and even though I’m supposed to be the “giver”, my cup fills up, and sometimes my eyes well up.  Even through the difficult times, life is beautiful. 

Next week I get to meet a new patient for the first time.  She’s 98, still living in her own home, along with her daughter.  She wants to play cribbage.  The request went like this… “If they don’t know how to play cribbage, I’ll be happy to teach them.”  How cool is that?  

I get to be taught something from someone who has been on this earth for 98 years.  I can only hope that I have that same spirit when/if I get to be that old.  What's her story? What little treasures will she share?  How much time will we have together?  Can you see why I get excited about these encounters? 

Empty cup. Breathe in.  Breathe out.  Just be.

Love this moment.

Me & my handsome boys, July 2011.

When I reflect back on 2011, it has been a pretty amazing year.  My life is richly blessed with the stuff that matters. 

It’s been a year of growth, loss and new beginnings.  I’ve recognized that one of life’s greatest gifts is the ability to feel.  To genuinely feel the range of emotions in life and appreciate them for what they are.  I think it comes from being fully engaged in life and being ok with feeling the bad, the uncomfortable, the pain, along with the good, joyful moments in life.  I recognize that the moments that have been the most challenging… the ones that I would have avoided given the chance, have been moments of great growth.  So, I am thankful, yes, thankful for the challenges, the pain, and the injuries.  All these things have made me more real.  I’m changed, and change is good.  If you’re not growing & changing, you’re stuck.  I still have a lot to learn, so I welcome life’s challenges because this year is going to be a BIG year of growth.

Yoga.  I can’t say enough about how cool this practice is.  And by the way, it’s a practice, not a religion.  It’s a way of living, an amazing physical discipline that will make you feel, really feel incredible.   It’s a spiritual journey that is what you make it.  I thank God each day for the breath of life, the breath that carries and sustains me.  Yoga gets you out of your head and into the flow of life, one breath at a time.  Some of my greatest gifts this year were born of yoga.  I’m a little more patient, a little less judgmental, and a little more grounded.  All beautiful gifts to me and those around me.  Yogis are good people.  This year I’ve made some of the most amazing friends through my studio.  They are both friends and teachers, because they all teach me things on a regular basis like how to give, share, laugh at yourself, make an impact, open your mind and open your heart.  Yogis rule.

In a couple short weeks I’ll begin training to teach yoga.  This is both terrifying and thrilling at the same time.  Yoga has made such a positive impact on my life, and I want to share the love.  Something tells me I will be like a rock thrown into a tumbler.  Shaken up, rolled over and over, painful at times, but in the end, a smooth & shiny teacher will emerge.  I’m ready now.  Bring on the training!

Probably the most significant event of this past year was being present through my mom’s last week of life.  I can’t say it was a best or worst moment.  I cried.  I felt both sadness and joy.  It was beautiful.  Life is beautiful.  There is something sacred about being with someone during their last days.  It’s just you and God.  You can feel the closeness and the grace of God.  I felt it in a big way with my mom, and I feel it every week when I’m visiting at Faith Hospice.  I so love my time spent at Faith Hospice.  It is such a gift each and every time.  A “wow” gift.  Kind of like Steve Jobs’ last words… “Oh wow. Oh wow. Oh wow.” 

In 2012 I want less stuff and more stuff that matters.  I like nice things as much as the next person, but we Americans have way too much stuff.  I will live with less and sponsor a child in need.  Check out Katie’s story: http://www.amazima.org/katiesstory.html

Better yet, read her book, Kisses from Katie, and prepare to be wowed over one amazing young woman and the impact she is making in Uganda.

What I want more of this year is something I want for me and for everyone - more patience, more love, and more presence. 

Be kind to yourself and others, be quick to forgive, replace fear and judgment with love, and live in the moment.  Those little moments are the significant ones, so don’t rush, breathe deeply, live fully.  Love this moment.  It’s all we have. 

Tonight I Want to Cry

Holding my mom's hand, the day we brought her home.

My mom passed away on October 10^th.  Her health was declining over the past 5 years, due to a stroke and macular degeneration.  She had a lot of limitations, but she kept going.  She longed to be with my dad, who died 13 years ago.  But, she kept going.  She became unsteady on her feet, and relied mainly on a wheelchair, but she kept going.  She kept going to the door of her assisted living facility, just wanting to go home.  Then she took a fall, resulting in a brain bleed/stroke that left her paralyzed on her right side, and unable to swallow or speak.  Mom had an advanced directive in place, which clearly stated that she didn’t want extreme measures to keep her alive.  I texted the Pastor of our church, who happened to be across the street from the hospital.  He came to her room immediately to give her the Anointing of the Sick, a Sacrament in the Catholic Church.  As he began he announced, “Today is the Feast of Saint Francis of Assisi”.  I burst into tears, as Francis was my father’s name. It was like dad was saying, “It’s ok, I’m here”.  Although she had only uttered “yeah” to questions from nursing staff, mom prayed the entire Our Father out loud with Monsignor Duncan and I.  It was the last time she spoke. 

Enter, Faith Hospice.  I volunteer at Trillium Woods, so I am well aware of what a wonderful facility it is.  Problem: filled to capacity with a waiting list.  Solution: Bring mom home… to her home.  My sister was driving home when from out of the blue this idea popped into her head. Mom hadn’t lived there in 5 years, but we had held onto it.  Recently, her granddaughter had moved in.  Coincidence?  Perhaps.  Rhiannon is convinced that Grandpa called her there to get it ready for Grandma.  There is a beautiful sunroom off the back of the home that backs up to a wooded area.  Quite, peaceful, beautiful.  Everyone knew instantly that this was perfect.  Our dad spent his last days in that very room with family surrounding him. 

Mom moved home.  Her homecoming to precede the big homecoming.  For three full days, she rested peacefully as her children and grandchildren visited, sang to her, read scripture to her, reflected on memories of her, told her they loved her and said their goodbyes.  You really couldn’t have scripted a better transition from this life to the next.  She looked at you as you spoke, and blinked her eyes to respond. 

Two of her last three nights, I slept on a couch in the sunroom with her.  The night before she died, I’m certain that I was touched by an angel.  Unable to sleep due to back pain, I laid awake listening to her oxygen tank and breathing.  Thoughts and images went through my mind, when suddenly, a brilliant flash of the most beautiful golden beams of light appeared in my mind.  So intense that could feel the warmth on my face and the magnetic draw.  It literally took my breath away, and I opened my eyes.  It was only then that I realized that my other thoughts/images were very much black and white.  I think I had been given a little glimpse of heaven. 

Mom passed away about 12 hours later, with Nancy, her firstborn holding one hand, and Rhiannon, her granddaughter holding the other.  Just two other family members were there at that moment, but it was as it was supposed to be.  

The funeral service was a beautiful celebration of her life, complete with three talented grandchildren singing and playing guitar, a family friend shared her angelic voice, children read scripture, and most of her 19 grandchildren and 24 great-grandchildren processed up the center aisle with roses to place in a vase on the alter.  What a legacy.  I read a eulogy on behalf of my family.  It was an honor.

Now, the relatives have made their way home, and life is getting back to its normal rhythm.  But there’s a hole in my heart.  In the stillness and the quiet, I mourn my mom.  I’m sad that I can’t be there to bring her to appointments, out for ice-cream, to mass on Sunday, or to hold her hand.  It hurts to know that I can’t talk through my latest parenting dilemma.  I long to be able to tell her what’s going on in my life.  Tonight I want to cry.  While I have peace with where she is, I have sadness over where she isn’t. 

So, I’ll cry.  When the memories rush in… when I get a hug from a friend… when I hear a sad song.  I’ll welcome the tears.  And I’ll be ok, because she’s exactly where she’s meant to be.  Because life is good, and God is awesome.  Because I have faith. 

I was blessed with a mom and a dad who loved me.  And for that, I’m eternally grateful. 

Yogi/Bear

Today I drove into Frankfort to pick up some night crawlers for my son’s fishing addiction.  I walked into the bait & tackle shop and was greeted with a friendly “Hello! What can I help you with?”  This big, burly, teddy bear of a guy steps up and grabs me a container of night crawlers, opens them up and inspects them.  “Yup!  They look happy!” 

As I thumbed through my wallet for cash, he must have read my Funk Yeah yoga t-shirt.  He asks, “So where’s the yoga hothouse?”  “Grand Rapids!” I say, with a smile.  He asks me if I’ve been to yoga down the road, which I hadn’t.  He explains that it’s above the bakery/deli, then contemplates what day of the week it is … “Today is Saturday, so tomorrow yoga is at 9:00!  You ought to try it out!”  He folded his hands and placed them heart center in true yogi style and said “Hatha Yoga”. Then this big old teddy bear of a guy says “I can’t WAIT until things slow down here so I can get back there!”  He taps his forefinger along side his head he says, “Gotta get outa my head!”

This just made my day!  When you think of a yogi your mind may conjure up some stereotypical youthful, fit, zen-like figure.  I’ve been a yogi for less than a year, and I know that yogis come from all walks of life, but for some reason this guy took me by surprise.  A pleasant surprise.   

Yoga is for everyone, not just for the young, the fit, the “enlightened”.  Yoga is good for the soul, no matter your age, size, gender or religion.  It takes you “out of your head” so that you can use your head with clarity. I recall hanging out in downward facing dog one day during practice and my instructor said, “Drop your worries, your stress, and all that garbage in your head… I’ll mop it all up after class!” 

I love yoga, and I love yogis.  Try it, you’ll love it! 

Sweet Summertime

Breathe in big.  Take it all in.  The trees are full, the air is sweet, the birds are singing.  There’s nothing like summertime in Michigan.  Tomorrow is Summer Solstice.  Yes!  Summer is here. 

I’m a foodie.  I love good food.  Summer is like heaven…  fresh produce, new recipes, salads, desserts and mixology at its best.  The smell of something cooking on the grill makes me happy.  We gather, we eat, we drink, we laugh.  This is how memories are made.

This summer we started a new tradition.  Wednesday nights we now celebrate “Dinner with the Dalmans”.  Why not break up your work week with a fun & casual night with good friends and great food?!  It’s our way of making sure we get the most out of summer.

Here’s a photo of my first new summer dessert recipe, c/o Cooking Light. 

Margarita Ice Cream Sandwiches.   De-licious! 

http://www.myrecipes.com/recipe/margarita-ice-cream-sandwiches-50400000113024/

What are you doing to make the most of your summer?  Tomorrow you’ll have over 15 hours of daylight to soak in.  My day will start with strawberry picking (and eating) and end with 108 Sun Salutations at Wilcox Park with the Funky Bunch. 

Whatever it is that you do with your day tomorrow, do it big!   

Make the story of your summer a great read.