Changes

CeeCee, Mom and Dad - and me(Feb '09)

A big, strong storm front is rolling in; the weather channel shows a huge swath of red coming across the state...between the oil spill, earthquakes, tornadoes etc...we do not escape our own severe weather- and hurricane season is not here until June.

After a weekend of scattered clouds and temps mild enough to make running comfortable, I focus on yoga this morning. This has become my routine. Take Monday to re-tune my body after hard workouts, to assess and stretch what needs work, where the tightness lingers. I follow a Rodney Yee core workout. It has the right degree of difficulty for me and focuses on all the important muscles which make running more efficient. I know where my neck and shoulders impede stretches, how my right hip/hamstring/IBS flare, the protest at the back of my knees, the sore shins. I am learning that a day or 2 off the roads is important and scheduling this week means I will not run again until Wednesday, giving me plenty of time to let my body recover.

Yoga day is an opportunity to center myself for the week ahead. In the changes that are developing, a leap into a busier life is upon me. Keeping up with work, training and Mom is more than a full schedule. When I saw her Saturday she was up to her old tricks; not talking much, making faces at Maude, and sinking into her own skin. My mother looks fragile, disconnected. Her smile is not her old smile. Her body is holding her head in a posture of closing in on herself. My mother is a flower that is entering a long winter, losing its color, form and function as it pulls itself back to the earth.

I was glad to see HBO's film on Dr. Kevorkian, and thought about how Mom has tried to instigate her own death. I wondered what a world would look like in which ethical medicine and healing is practiced allowing someone like her to make her own mind up about her quality of life. I am not enough for her to look forward to, neither is Bob's calls, or the sporadic letters of the rest of the family. Her daily interaction with Maude calls up all her old racist demons...and despite the love and devotion she gets, she seems unable to accept it fully.

We want the dying to be positive about death, and I watched Dr. K make decisions about who he could and would assist...denying a "depressed" burn victim, a Parkinson's patient...accepting other terminal folks. Wanting to die is not enough. The vortex of forces, both spiritual and material that coalesce to help someone make this passage is still a mysterious mix. I only hope when I am this old, we have figured out something better than all this mess.

Meanwhile, changes of all types will pound the resistance from us, and folks, we better be ready! Despite all attempts to orient ourselves from the outside in, to secure our jobs, our houses, our level of consumption, it must be an inside job. The only change we can really secure is the attention to the molecular, crystalline energy of our connection to Self. And I'm finding that the more I carve even a minimal time on this, the greater my sense of stability.

Running is still the place where I practice. Take inventory of my body. Listen to the music and mantras that help tune my brain, focus on connecting and envisioning not just the greater part of me, but the whole picture. My talent lies in the ability to perceive these atmospheric patterns; the 'gestalt' of the world's Superconsciousness, talking to us, imploring us, rattling and raging at times to get our attention, but otherwise, singing to us in a music we are learning to recognize as the Power of Change.

Seasons Turning

After days of heavy rains, the skies clear and today I was finally able to get back out on the open roads. With a heavy gait, I took my time on the out and back, waiting for the magic moment when my body stops protesting and begins to relax into the run. Since all my mileage is down, I can feel how even a very moderate run like this is challenging...it's hard to believe that a year ago I was consistently logging 35-45 mpw. But the beautiful clear, cool atmosphere gave me peace and time to let my mind think its thoughts. There's the one about work, the most annoying and niggling of all, the one which sets off anxiety, frustration and dread. There's the one about Mom, who in her beautiful decline, provokes equal measure adoration and impatience. The kids, the circle of friends/loved ones, the roll of the seasons over into spring.
Don't tell me the climate is not changing!! This has been the coldest and wildest winter since I've been in So Flo. And my prediction: hold onto your hats! I think we're in for more wild rides.

The thought about running, even while doing it, had me in a headlock. My magic moment was fleeting...somewhere coming back from my Anderson Park pit-stop...and a brief feeling of ease as I found the core strength to relax the rest of my body. I don't know what factors are at work; stress, sleep, nutritional...my bodily complaints keep rising, while my energy and ability to run comfortable decreases. In a woman's life, we have physiological benchmarks related to first menses, birth, menopause, etc. I remember the year I bound out of the latter feeling like a girl again! That was about age 50-51. I hope 54 is not the year my body put the kabosh on my running dreams...I am not yet ready to accept much lower expectations. Yet.

My mom...my teacher in all things acceptance. "I want to die" is peppered in between yiddish phrases, sailor-like swearing, questions about the dead and contorted musings over the condo crowd. I tell her I understand every single time; I do. I would feel the same, I know my Dad did. Old age is not for the cowardly I can see. And yet with all my 'preventative' work, my very good diet, my physical fitness, my mental stamina, I know like everyone I have my Achilles heel. Mom's is her fate of being locked inside a body and mind over which she has lost so much control. Mine is, well I guess it's safe to say it's the hypersensitivity to the press of the world which blasts through my filters and causes the rush of existential despair my family is famous for...and yet...

Spring brings amazing incomprehensible change. The very air seems charged with something outside the ordinary, as every living thing begins to perk itself up out of the gloom of winter's crazy hold. The dominant blue sky, the rush of breezes and winds off the ocean and everglades; Florida has the wealth of Nature to push past the arcane turn of year. Here it's everything lush, over the top and with any sun at all, warmth.

I am just holding on for dear life. While the inner and outer worlds keep bouncing and colliding around, I keep aim for that still center where everything evolves to quiet. I know, when the run is taking me, instead of me going for a run, that the feeling of relaxing deep into myself cannot be 'practiced', unless practice is the consistent path inside. Whatever the method, it feels like this place is the only way to sustain my faith in a process which has gone almost outside our hands. And yet....
it is our very desire towards our dreams, no matter how fantastic, which leads us closer and closer still.

Birthday Run

Stormy weather broke this morning with a burst of gusty winds, patchy clouds and plenty of sun and blue skies. It was up and out this AM, eager to see what my 54 year old body would do. Heading north towards Griffin, it was stiff going for the first mile or so, but by the time I took my Publix break I was pretty well relaxed. I had my tunes, the right gear, and yesterday's treadmill run gave me more endurance for today.

The big drama of everything at work, or with the family just seemed to fade into a distant chorus of raucous voices I no longer heard very clearly...or wanted to...as the rhythm of the run began to overtake me into the zone of peace, while the winds of spring swirled and whirled around me....

On the big Griffin loop I surprised myself with a few fast (for me) stretches; coming down on 40th to Stirling and again in Emerald Hills while I wound things down. My legs don't always want to turn over very fast, since my right leg and hip hobble my range of motion to a point. But something in the energy of the morning brought out the speed, in little micro-bursts like the winds, and it felt wonderful to cruise along, and pretend to be a bad-ass runner preparing for Boston, New York, for DC, for Miami...

I'm glad I ramped things down. Maybe this is part of middle aging...expectations begin to balance between the dream of ultimate fantasy (I still want to do an ultra..)
and what the body can and will handle reasonably. And though my nature is usually not to settle for the mild side of balance, I can see how using my runs to fine-tune the general systems of emotional, spiritual and physical well-being is the key- not how many miles or races I rack up. There is no competition, unless you count the clock of time. I am simply so grateful that at this age and station of life I could pound out my 7 miles today with relative ease, a few walk breaks, and plenty of spunk and umph in my step and spirit to embrace the day.

Running saved my life, and continues to inspire my discipline, my inspiration, my inner vision of what I can be. Happy birthday to me!

Running Contingencies

Keeping my eye on today is about all I'm capable of. And today, I think I'll go for a run.

-John Bingham, "Back to the Future," Runner's World


At Gold's gym, the treadmills were empty for an early rainy morning. I have a hate/hate relationship with this method of getting in a run. The images of "hamster in a cage", "lab rat" comes to mind as I'm forced to watch whatever is broadcasting on any given TV screen or the others working out. My anthropological mind gets stuck on the preposterous notion of human beings inventing this means of achieving what we think of as "physical fitness" which is as far from the outdoors and nature as we can get.

If it accomplishes anything, it's to remind me how visual a runner I am. As an artist, I am a perception hound; the visual world is interesting to me. Nature, in particular, offers herself up to me in Her glorious disarray of forms and textures, lights and shadows. When out on a run, I never tire of exploring the neighborhoods, roadways, parks I like to frequent. It's the stimulation of being out under the big skies and in the middle of weather; winds, sun, early dawns, late afternoons, and the capacity to 'melt' into the environment. To merge myself into something bigger than me, to lose myself for a little while in physical motion. To release my mind. To follow my inner storyline....to think, create, dream.

If I invented a fitness center, it would be built around a courtyard garden. All the 'treadmills', or the future equivalent, would point to view the garden and outside grounds. There would be fantastic artwork everywhere. No TV's. Music stations with any Pandora's box style radio station at the ready. Meditation and yoga studios. Martial arts. A library and internet cafe with a whole foods cook.

If I ruled the world, it would look more like my dreams which always seem to hint at some parallel world far distant or past- hard to tell. In this world, things make sense on the human level. People are drawn into communities of souls. The environment sings. Health and healing are integral. And suffering is conquered.

So back to the reality of the moment. My 5 miles at the gym are accomplished. I don't know what I will walk into today at work, but I'm determined to keep my professionalism intact- and as always, I look forward to seeing my clients, who aim for some kind of change in a heartless world. I strive to bring my alternate vision to the work of my hands, mind and heart. I will maintain my integrity and remember that even if I can't see it, the Powers that Be are moving things along. Time takes time.

Re-tuning

A clash of scheduling kept me off the roads yesterday, although at the first lull in the afternoon, I took off from the office and walked to Publix- probably about 3 miles there and back....walking like I couldn't go fast enough, just trying to envelop myself in some motion and peace...

Today, with the glitches in my ipod (hey Apple Inc, are you listening? How many ipods and earplug sets does it take to get it right??), I went out early, sans music. This month's issue of Runner's World has much about running as meditation, and I realized it's been awhile since I really focused on any of my Hathor material. I woke from a dream of getting ready to run...somewhere...with endless permutations about what I was wearing, the weather etc. I am so glad when I actually woke up, had my clothes laid out, saw the perfect weather and got out the door in short order. The temp was just warm enough for me to be comfortable in shorts and tank top, and the sun came in and out of the clouds drifting in gray bunches across the early morning skies.

Two days off running is becoming a pattern now, as I continue to nurse my hip. But the loss of steady endurance has kept my miles low. Somehow, today though, I could feel my engines revving, and after a nice steady stretch to Anderson Park decided to take the long way home up 56th and Emerald Hills Drive. I never know why one day is great and another not. But today, all the factors came together; I cruised up to take the corner east and felt like it has been so long since I saw all that scenery...the traffic was frustrating, but as I rounded out into the neighborhoods again, the tranquility enveloped me in a cocoon of peace, and my gait smoothed out.

I focused on form, never my strong suit- and meditating on the geometric images that place me inside the crystalline structures of light the Hathors talk about. The feeling of a cone rising from the core of the earth through me and into the "Celestial Soul", of me, of the earth, of the center of the galaxy is very liberating. The inner motion counter-balances the forward movement of the run, and at times, I get that micro-minute feeling of lightness, of ease, like flight, that comes when it all gets in sync.

I was really pooped out when I came out by TY park; I walked the last stretch to ease the soreness, and by the time it was all done, felt pretty good. Mentally, I knew I needed to 'blow out' the stress and tension that has me on it's roller coaster ride. The feeling of spring for me is always fraught with this slight mania, this inner irritation to GET someplace, knowing at the same time that the 'place' I strive for is not physical- never is....

Running is an exercise of going somewhere- and coming back. Mysteriously it always aims me at that 'place' whether I capture it on the edges or dead on. Today was a gift. I had it like a gem in my soul, almost as soon as I began. A run like that takes all the pain away, and lights the fire back in my soul.

Dalai Lama and the Buddha on PBS tonight. Check for times.

Spring Runs

-photo courtesy Yu Wang


The heat of the sun just barely penetrates a crisp edge to the spring weather, making for very comfortable runs these days. Saturday I made a 6+ miler on the short Griffin loop and Sunday the longer one, probably about 10 miles, as long as I've done in a while.

Yesterday's run was after taking Mom to say hello to Dad at the cemetery, but we didn't stay long since a funeral was taking place right next to us...and I can't talk to Mom without shouting loud enough for her to hear. So we hung out, touched the gravestone, placed a rose and rock for him, took in the atmosphere- and left. Mom handled herself really well....the change in her from debilitated to stable is nothing short of miraculous, and I know we have Maude to thank for her excellent, good-natured care.

As I headed out yesterday Dad was much on my mind...the reality of death is a hard one to grasp. The seeing-then not seeing- a loved one who is so present in life...and the change in perception to 'other worldly' reality; is it any wonder our spiritual and religious lives began as homage to the dead? Mom constantly asks about the dead, having trouble remembering or tracking whose alive, dead and when....We talked about Aunt Rose too...."you have powerful ancestors looking out for you" I said to her, and she smiled at me and blew a kiss.

Spring is a roller coaster ride; it is warm one minute, cold the next. The season of my birthday, I am ecstatic and frustrated in equal measure as the wheel of my own cycles turn once more. This is the year I accomplished my 2nd marathon, my state license, and sadly the farewells to both Dad and Vitae. My two fathers gone leaves a hole in my soul no one can fill; the will to accomplish, to move forward is compromised without my powerful cheer-leading team to rah rah me on. Somewhere deep inside of me is a powerful source of inspiration, connection and commitment to everything I hold dear. My art, my passion for nature and plants, music, writing, philosophy, sciences....there is so much to life I follow as a devoted student....the blessing of those in the flesh who walk with us is in how they reinforce our passions and love. The loss of those brings us closer to Source; for in reality, it's only when we have to face it in our deepest solitude that the sheer mystery of it all hits home, and we can fully appreciate the face of God shining from within.