Dawn Drama, Dawning Awareness, & the Rolling Stones

Yesterday morning the phone rang. It was one of those early morning calls that freeze the blood, especially if you have, like I do, a mom in frail health. I struggled to find the phone in the dark and push the right button to answer it. Hoping for a wrong number, I was startled instead to hear the voice of my oldest boy.


I had listened to him getting ready for work far earlier this morning; up at five to be on time for his construction job. As he roared off in his car, I blessed his journey and went back to sleep. Now, here he was not much above an hour later, on the phone. He was calling from the bathroom floor of the warehouse. He had blacked out and was now experiencing vertigo. Would I pick him up and take him to the hospital? Of course!

Sleep was thrown off, clothing was thrown on, maps were quested, coffee was ordered, and my husband and I were out the door and on our way. Rush hour traffic impeded our progress, and another hour went by before we had him in the car and on the way to the hospital.

Strangely, despite the drama of the situation, I had the prevailing sense that somehow this event was going to answer an unasked question. At once I felt a deep (and unusual) calm as we made our way through the darkness towards our ailing son. Sure enough, his eventual diagnoses explained some heretofore unexplainable symptoms he had manifested as a teenager, and the treatment given for his dizziness would solve the other problem as well.

The long and short of this story is that I’m learning to trust what happens. What seems like scary circumstances can often be the setup for solving deep-seated problems. The willingness to believe in a generous universe is all it takes to move us from uncertainty into confidence; that and the clear intention to see yourself as a powerful creator in your life rather than a victim of circumstance.

Or, as the Rolling Stones put it “You can’t always get what you want/but if you try some time/you just might find/you get what you need”.

Love, Kristine

Thinking Outside of the Bag

I was amused to find this tiny tag on my path one morning. I was out on a trail that overlooks a wilderness area, and what a caution tag was doing all the way out there I don't know, but, of  course, I took it as a sign.

I remember the old hippy question "What's your bag?" At the time, it seemed to mean your interest or way of life: "My bag's music", or "I'm a vegetarian". Now I see a different meaning. I think of our bags as holding our learned and patterned way of doing things. They feel secure, especially in times of stress. We can pull the sides of our bag over our ears and hide ourselves in it when need be, and when times get really tough we can find a proscribed way of handling our emotions in our "bag of tricks".

The impending death of someone we love is one of those really tough times.

We become like children in the face of death. Our dying parent is abandoning us. Deep buttons are pushed. Our emotions, tricky and hard to handle, inspire us to reach into our bag to dig up a patterned response that helps us feel better, but so often we come up empty.

There is truly no "correct" way to be, or prepare for, this major event. It's a confusing and perplexing time, and definitely a time to think "outside of the bag". Our authentic responses are the ones that will ultimately give us the most comfort. No matter what choices we make, to be there for the death, or not; to return quickly back to our lives, or not; to mourn or not, only we know how we feel, and what's in our hearts, and what's, ultimately, the correct thing for us to do.

Like children, we want support for our responses, but keep that bag far away from your inner child. Only more unhappiness lies there. Like the dying parent, we have to handle death alone. Feel the pain and truth of your emotion, and then do what you need to do to help yourself feel better.

Don't dig around in your bag of history to find an appropriate and socially acceptable response. If you do this, you'll smother your authentic emotional reaction. Of all times you will face, this is the time when honoring who you authentically are and what you actually do is especially important, even if it feels all wrong or looks all wrong to those round you.

Don't be afraid.  Courage of your convictions is what's required here.  Disregard any one's opinion but your own, because you will survive the transition so much more ably if you allow yourself the freedom to be completely yourself.

Don't judge yourself no matter what you do, or be anothers judge and jury. Judgement has no place in death and will not help you through it. Only love and trust, for yourself, for others, and for the process of death itself will soothe your aching heart. 

Throw your bag away and find your center.  Peace lies there.

Love, Kristine