Stay in touch

It’s crazy how many parallels can be drawn between my personal life off the mat and my more public life on.  I suppose that’s a good thing, suggesting that I am narrowing my range of experiences to blissful and infrequent fluctuations, or that I am becoming more skilled in handling life’s curve balls while waiting for my pitch to swing.  Given the last month’s variety of activities, I ‘d have to guess I’m starting to get the hang of being at the plate. In June I celebrated mine and my oldest daughter’s birthday, attended a new yoga training program for seven straight days, enjoyed my oldest two daughters’ promotions from middle and elementary school, my 16th wedding anniversary, Father’s Day, my dad’s birthday, one wedding, added two new classes to my teaching schedule, and my youngest daughter’s preschool patriotic performance including six beloved Americana tunes. And a haircut.

One of the highlights of this month that I didn’t list above was our family’s first experience with Wwoof-ers.  Wwoof is an acronym for worldwide workers on organic farms.  I’d heard about the program from an old friend, and as we’ve added a 3000 square foot garden to our growing brood of farm-like activities (chickens, fruit trees, cats, and kids), I  figured that by almost everyone’s definition, we have a farm.  Wwoofing is a great way for volunteers to travel around the world learning about how people, like me, grow food organically for all kinds of different reasons:  Commercial sales and farmer’s markets, community supported garden (CSA).  It’s super easy to read about on-line but the basic outline is an exchange of food and lodging for labor and knowledge.   Last week we hosted three women, and they weren’t the only ones gaining knowledge.  They were so helpful and strong but there’s nothing like seeing  your life through someone else’s eyes to remind you of what you take for granted, what you long for, and what you’ve got to work on.

Tyler and Hanna came to our house from Portland with me on Saturday following my Yoga for Chronic Pain training at Oregon Health Sciences University.  Both from Columbia, South Carolina, they were lifelong friends at 22 and 20 years old respectively.  Almost as old as I am married!  They are spry and eager, though weary from spending a week at a pharmaceutical* farm in southern Oregon.   I wooed them with some home cooked loving, tucked them into the loft and as I went to bed imagined all the progress we would make on our property.  Shannon arrived on Sunday and again I  channeled my inner Ina Garten and served a most delicious meal with salad from our garden.  I was planning meals, projects, and lessons in my sleep.

The Ladies worked together beautifully and productively.  The garden expanded to include basil, corn, onions, and more.  They moved around on the property with the sun.  After three days,  Hanna left to attend to a family crisis and while we all hated to see her go Shannon and Tyler carried on.  Our farm has never looked better and they also helped my mom and our neighbor. Everyone was benefiting even more than I had planned.  To fuel our bodies we were making green smoothies for breakfast and reading Skinny Bitch, Crazy Sexy Diet, and Green for Life after dinner.  We made strawberry jam with no sugar, yogi cookies, and moon cakes.  We were all learning and transforming our ideas of farming, friends, and food.  When my oldest daughter said, “Our house just feels more alive with the wwoofers,” I nearly cried.  She was so right.

On Monday the party came to an end when Tyler left to move to another farm across town.  Awkwardly this farm belonged to an old friend who I am no longer close to.  Our falling out happened in February but thanks to living in a small town and our own pot stirring, the trouble has carried on.  On my birthday I received a scathing email from her threatening to share a conversation we’d had eons ago that reflected poorly on my marriage. Then she told me to go meditate.  I was not thrilled to send Tyler to her,  but  I  felt that Tyler had her own karma and dharma to manifest,  and I trusted that if Tyler needed anything she would call.  Two hours after her departure, she called.  She wanted to come back.

My heart was racing as I listened to her message.  I frantically called her back, no answer.  I called my mom who soothed my nerves when she assured me that she had already collected Tyler from where Susan had dropped her off.  It’s a strange sensation and realization to watch my emotional course in crisis.  I went from fear to fury, to revenge in the short drive across town. By the time I had parked my car I was ready to destroy Susan’s reputation, relationships, livelihood.  How could she take our problems out on an innocent volunteer?  Without knowing anything about what actually had transpired between the two of them, I was more fierce than any time before when she has maliciously dished cruelty my way.  Why hadn’t I been so protective of my own feelings?  Why hadn’t I defended my own life with such a vengeance?  When was this madness going to stop?

This is where I begin to see that I have been emotionally unavailable for a very long time.  Maybe because of my upbringing, maybe because of my own adult conditioning and insecurity, maybe because I just am always attracted to people who are dangerous.  I thought about a yoga class I’d taken a while back where the teacher suggested that the toughest battles we face in life are not with strangers.  She went on to say that no one can push your buttons like close friends and family, and just like in the Bhagavad Gita those are the battles we are here for.  It’s not optional.  In order to live we must stand up for ourselves and not hide behind the needs of our kids, our causes, or our wwoofers.

When Tyler came home it was clear to me that things had changed between she and I.  I couldn’t determine if it was her, or me.  I didn’t ask, and she didn’t offer to share what actually happened at Susan’s.  I have spent a good amount of time guessing and playing out in my own mind.  And while I know that that mind story is just that, I am still interested in what my mind tells me might be happening and how that feeds my fear. I feel in my heart that I offered all that I had to our guests, and they offered all that they had.  As a result I was brought to a new place where I can see a bit more clearly not just my battles but also my victories.

It is a survival skill to turn away from and turn off what we perceive as a threat and negative.  The danger must become paramount before we will fight.  As a yogi I thought I could meditate those feelings away.  Ironically, the more I meditate, the stronger and clearer those feeling become.  Who am I here for, and what am I here to do?  I am here to evolve, to share and to love.   Ice melting to water loses the structure and firmness of it’s previous incarnation, but it becomes more flexible and adaptable.  More easily lost, too, and that’s the risk I have been most afraid of.  I don’t want to be lost.  But being lost and losing are two different things.  Wayne Gretzky said that “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”, and that was me, not even taking the shot in fear of missing my mark.  Worse yet, I unconsciously made myself the target for others to shoot at, and then was pissed when someone hurt me.

So I choose to fight this time.  I choose to stand up to Susan and whoever else pushes my buttons, not because it’s easy or because I’ll win but because I want to live fully. I want to be the one hugging with my whole body and receiving the hug in return.  I want to be the one shooting the arrows, even if I miss my target, even if I get hurt.  I want to choose my battles not based on their win-ability but because they matter to me, just me.  When we turn away from evil it doesn’t go away.  When we face threat in our own lives and accept our challenge to go to the mat for what we believe in, then not only have we destroyed the threat but also become  a stronger warrior.  What the world needs is people who have come alive, not just in rainbows and unicorns- the pretty stuff, but also their dark sides.  The madness, the pain, and the difficulties we all face are here to teach us not only that we are survivors, but that we are warriors of our own destinies.  Denying the ugly truth doesn’t make it less true and it doesn’t make anyone more virtuous.

When it was time to say goodbye to Tyler and Shannon, I wanted so much to hug them in a way that they would know that they had helped me more than words could say.  I want them to know that their light and love changed me and while I wish they hadn’t had to be involved in my personal soap opera with Susan, without them the drama may have continued much longer.  More than that, though, accepting help here on my farm, sharing my family, my friends, my life was so healing.  I can’t say that I will have wwoofers all summer long, but the experience was hugely positive.  Theirs will be a hard act to follow.

Back to parallels though.  I see so many between my work and the rest of the world.  When the Navy Seals killed Osama bin Laden and many Americans cheered for his death I wondered if I’d been transported to another planet- or if I could catch the next spaceship.  I read this blog by Susan Piver- another Susan (susanpiver.com)  who reminded me that there is no such thing as us and them.  We are one, and while sometimes it’s difficult to accept your responsibility for the evil in the world, you don’t have to carry that burden alone.  So in slaying my own beast, in fighting my own battle I had to enlist some new troops (Shannon, Hanna, and Tyler), I learned some new skills (OHSU, Yoga of Awareness), and found some joy in everyday moments.  I am armed with my shield (my body), my sword (my actions) and my helmet (my mind) because I know that as a warrior I must accept that in order for there to be light, there has to be dark.  In order for there to be ease there has to be effort, and in order for me to win I have to take the shot.