• Greetings!

Visions of Song

Visions of Song

Tag Archives: meditation

Why Wait?

09 Thursday Jun 2016

Posted by debintheuwharries in camping, death and dying, earth, Happiness, healing, nature, recovery, Spirituality, Travel, Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

death and dying, desire, gratitude, healing, hope, meditation, nature, perception, philosophy, recovery, redemption, resilience, senses, spirituality, transformation, travel, trust

2014-10-02 pond swampy Sandhills off Hoffman Road“We never know how many tomorrows we have left: eat dessert first!” “We plan, God laughs.”

The notion that we shouldn’t waste time because we have no idea when ours will be up is all too familiar. We’ve heard it, we’ve said it. Often, it’s a loss of a loved one, or the abrupt change in personal status that makes us take a fresh look at our lives. When my father died in 2013, and a dear friend died a mere 11 days later, I experienced what I’ve just recently heard described as “zombie grief”. I remember trying to describe it to some friends, that sensation of being nearly paralyzed. I was sure, I said, that it was the body’s way of preventing one (me) from doing anything drastic. After a while, I was able to move again, but I struggled both physically and emotionally. Only in relatively far retrospect did it dawn on me that I was depressed, grieving. I felt a great deal of anger, and in a way, it was refreshing, in that I felt freer to say “no”, and I did simplify my life somewhat. I stopped giving so much mental energy to people who took my energy but didn’t replenish it. I realized that changes that had occurred in my work situation needing changing once again. I planned for my departure, taking a two month hiatus and traveled across the country, enjoying plenty of time alone, visiting friends old and new, camping, and doing a little creative work through writing and photography. I returned to North Carolina, and struggled to find a balance of work that would be meaningful as well as pay bills alongside my desire to have some flexibility to do the other things that are important to me. It has not been easy, and still needs some adjusting, but for the most part I am glad for where I am with that process.

A week and a half ago, I had a couple of biopsies done on the sole of one foot. I had been concerned about the appearance of small to medium markings that had not always been there. My father died as a result of metastatic melanoma, which coincidentally appeared on the sole of his foot, so I’d been quietly terrified that those biopsies were going to come back as melanoma. I did share this concern with a couple of friends, but for the most part said nothing. I told one friend that if the report showed melanoma of the type that my father had, there is really nothing to be done about it and I would plan accordingly. I thought for just a moment and said “why am I waiting to find out if I have melanoma before deciding to plan accordingly?” Although I continued to wake up each morning wondering if today would be the day I’d get the bad news, I also spent a lot of time thinking about how important it is for me to continue to work towards ensuring that what I devote my time and energy to is more and more in alignment with those things I hold dear.

This afternoon I got the relieving news that I should keep an eye on things, but there are no high alerts at this time. I am thankful. I also hope I have the capacity to keep my eyes towards those priorities and avoid the trap of complacency. I aim to keep things fresh, and not be afraid to shake life up as I did in the fall when I quit a job that offered a modest salary with those much-coveted benefits in exchange for days and days of adventure, exploration, time with friends, new experiences, another kind of self-confidence, creative energy, and lots of “I wonder what today will bring?” mornings.

Eat dessert first!2014-09-23 dessert first Roccio2014-08-25 torta asadaJune 2016 off 109 trailhead troy nc area

Advertisements

Sights, Sounds, and Memories

14 Monday Dec 2015

Posted by debintheuwharries in camping, Cochise Stronghold, Cochlear Implant and Hearing, death and dying, healing, recovery, sound, Spirituality, Travel, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

death and dying, healing, hearing loss, meditation, nature, perception, recovery, senses, spirituality, travel, trust

2015-10-13 16.19.55I had the great pleasure of hiking and camping in mid-October at the Cochise Stronghold campground, in the Dragoon Mountains within the Coronado National Forest in southeastern Arizona. I arrived late morning, and enjoyed a hike before setting up camp. At 5,000 feet, it gets chilly once the sun sets at that time of year, but the granite walls and sheer cliffs that surround the campground act to reduce winds that might otherwise make tent camping a bit uncomfortable overnight. With virtually no chance of rain, and little to no perceptible wind, I was able to enjoy a rain tarp-free experience, hunkering down into my sleeping bag as I peered through the mesh of my tent and watched the sky darken and fill with stars. At early morning, I was able to view the sky as it lightened and the sun came over the cliffs, the stars fading from view. I shared the entire campground with just one other camper. He arrived about an hour before sunset. I had two thoughts when he pulled in: “aw, I thought I’d have the place to myself tonight!”, and “should I be concerned?” My gut said it would be fine, that he was just camping out like me, and I was correct. We spoke briefly upon his arrival, then went about our respective business.

I had been sitting and eating my dinner when he pulled into the site. As there is no water whatsoever at that campground, I didn’t attempt to cook rice or pasta or anything that would’ve made excessive demands on my water supply (cooking and cleaning). I boiled some water, first for coffee, which I enhanced with a shot of bourbon, and then boiled more water to heat up a food packet filled with a tasty Indian spiced side dish. With that, some crackers and nuts, and the brew, I was set. While I ate, I wrote down some of my thoughts and feelings about the recent death of an old friend. Betty and I met when I was at college in upstate New York. The mom of the young man I became engaged to (but did not marry), we were close for many years beyond that time. I felt like an extended family member for a long time. Circumstance and distance changed things about 10 years ago, but we remained friendly, with my link to her eldest son keeping me abreast of developments when her health took a serious turn for the worse. Pancreatic cancer ultimately took her from this life. She died a few days after I started my journey, days before I arrived at this stronghold. I felt her presence as I sat on the bench, eating my simple meal and writing about her, about who she was as I understood her, and about her influence on my life. She taught me many things about relationships, family, devotion, and the little things that people do for each other to show love. She had a faith in God that I did not fully understand, yet I loved being around that part of her, because I felt like whatever it was that made her so special was intricately woven by that fabric, and I hoped it would rub off on me. I think it did, somewhat.

I heard so many birds calling as sunset came to the campground. Earlier in the afternoon, there were two woodpeckers nearby just having a ball, flitting here and there, banging away at trees, squawking, looking askance, I’d swear, at my feeble attempts to photograph them, to capture a focused shot or two. As I listened to the sounds around me, I remembered how thrilled Betty was for me at the success of my first cochlear implant, the technology that has allowed me to hear again after decades of severe hearing impairment. A musician, it must’ve saddened her more than she let on that I was losing my connection with the hearing world, especially with music. So as I retired to the camp tent for the night, I reflected on how much she meant to me, and how she made me feel like I mattered to her, and how cheered she would be to know that I could hear all those marvelous, musical sounds in the natural world again.2015-10-13 17.27.25

Mojave and Tecopa

07 Saturday Nov 2015

Posted by debintheuwharries in Travel

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

hope, meditation, nature, philosophy, travel

2015-11-03 15.13.41

Desert. For many, the word conjures up a vast desolate barrenness. Wasteland. Dry, blowing dusty scorching hot days, sans water, no life to speak of, a place that one is banished to, punishment for a litany of misdeeds.

I don’t think I’ve ever viewed them that way, not since I made my first diorama in elementary school, attempting an approximation of the Gobi desert. I remember putting a small hand mirror flat on the floor surface, surrounded by sand obtained from the property we lived on out in Long Island, New York at that time. I was in the 4th grade, I worked with what I had, you know?

I don’t recall exactly how I learned about the Mojave Desert, but I believe my first visit to what was at the time the East Mojave National Scenic Area took place soon after I moved to San Francisco, around 1992. It became a National Preserve in 1994, overseen by the Bureau of Land Management. I quickly expanded my wandering range from there up to the hot springs town of Tecopa and the nearby Amargosa Valley. Death Valley is near to that area as well, but truth be told, I’ve only visited Death Valley once. It’s a marvelous place, but doesn’t hold the sense of magic and wonder I experience in those other two areas in the region.

Over the years, I have visited in all seasons, but I have preferred being there in summer. The air seemingly vibrates in the loud quiet of the summer season. Temperatures soar then, and it’s a trick to camp out. I’ve occasionally caved to the need for an air conditioned night when the nights never dropped below 90 degrees Fahrenheit. I love it best then, when, loaded up with water and salty chips, I have the spaces virtually to myself. Me and the lizards and the very occasional sighting of snakes.

As a result of a planned road trip commencing in early October, I had the pleasure of visiting the area in the fall this year. The winds are, at times, challenging, but I found them exhilarating all the same. I didn’t pull out my camera as much as I would have due to fairly frequent rain alongside that wind, but it was still a marvelous experience. I had one day that I was able to take a hike behind China Ranch near Tecopa. It is a date farm, a veritable oasis in that desert. Behind the farm is open land, what folks call the badlands, which are made available to all by the landowners. It is arguably one of my favorite places on earth.

I had two good friends ask me if I weren’t considering looking for work in the region, and possibly affording myself the opportunity to access the land and the springs that flow at Tecopa all the time. It has crossed my mind on many occasions. Perhaps I will one of these days. I know enough to recognize that living in a place is different than being a visitor. Nevertheless, there is something about these spaces that fit me well. We shall see.

2015-11-03 15.10.58

Borders and Borderlines

16 Friday Oct 2015

Posted by debintheuwharries in immigration, migration

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

death and dying, healing, hope, meditation, nature, perception, philosophy, redemption, resilience, spirituality, transformation, travel

border wall looking to Mexico

While traveling through the Southwest this week, I had the privilege of experiencing glimpses of the work done by Humane Borders, Inc. The main office is located in South Tucson, Arizona, but the humanitarian work that they do requires that they travel many miles from town, near and around the border with Mexico. The day before, I’d met with Joel Smith, Operations Manager, for breakfast, and attended a volunteer meeting later in the day. I had the opportunity to meet Juanita Molina, the Executive Director, and many of the compassionate and passionate volunteers that do the hard work of providing water and basic supports to migrants as they cross the desert.

Well aware that I have readers who take issue with migrants crossing the border and living in the United States as undocumented persons, I offer this: regardless of where you stand on the issue of immigration, one thing is crystal clear: people seeking a better life for their families will continue to migrate here. They will take every risk to their lives to have the chance to improve the quality of life for their loved ones.

The efforts made by Humane Borders and their counterpart humanitarian groups is driven by a basic principle: to do what is morally right. Knowingly turning a blind eye to people dying of thirst in the desert is not an option. Founded in June 2000, their mission statement reads:

“Humane Borders, motivated by faith, offers humanitarian assistance to those in need through the deployment of emergency water stations on routes known to be used by migrants coming north through our desert. Our sole mission is to take death out of the immigration equation. Our water tanks are on a combination of private and public lands. In all cases we have permission to locate our water stations on these lands in writing from the landowners.”

The leaders at the organization have done incredible work in building relationships with the enforcement agencies that have their own set of rules to follow with regards to migrant activity, including the U.S. Border Patrol, Arizona Game and Fish Department, among others.

I spent a day on the road with Joel, who needed to check several water stations and change out flags. The blue flags are erected high so that those who are walking through the desert are able to locate the water stations. Even for those who don’t know of the stations, the flags can act as markers for those who may walk towards it seeking assistance. The travel is largely off road once out of town, and the routes are steep, pitted, narrow, and rocky. One must have a solid 4×4 vehicle and a good command of its handling to get to these remote locations. Consider, then, what it’s like to traverse the same routes on foot, with little resources to sustain oneself. Imagine the determination that drives a person forward in the face of these challenges.

I became privy to a wealth of knowledge on the history and culture of the region, and the nuances of engagement, thanks to my guide. After checking some water stations and swapping out a well-worn flag at one site, we continued on and reached the border fence. It is, frankly, a monstrosity, a huge blight on an otherwise gorgeous desert landscape. I look in the direction of Mexico, through the fence, and see open spaces and a wide range of cacti, plants, grasses, and birds. I turn my back to the fence and see the exact same scene, a virtual mirror image. In this place, it becomes ever more apparent how arbitrary the line is, how absurd the effort, for the fence does not do the job that it was designed for: it does not keep people from seeking a better life.

On the last portion of the run, where we needed to pick up some water barrels that needed to be swapped out from a site, we traveled up a steep incline and into view came a rugged outpost of sorts. This was the safe station set up by No More Deaths, another humanitarian group in the desert which works to stop the deaths of migrants in the desert. They are an official ministry of the Unitarian Universalist Church of Tucson. I introduced myself to two young men who were organizing activities, and took a walk around the space. All the essentials were there for basic living supports. 

As we drove across the desert, we spoke about other things as well, including our shared passion for photography. I noted how beautiful the scenery around us was, and how these are the spaces that I most enjoy wandering and taking photographs. Joel agreed wholeheartedly that though it is, indeed, a beautiful place, “It is also a lonely place to die.”

For more information, including ways to support:

http://www.humaneborders.org/

http://forms.nomoredeaths.org/en/

border wall with Joel Smith

No More Deaths welcome sign up on the hill

Days Ahead

09 Friday Oct 2015

Posted by debintheuwharries in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

death and dying, desire, forgiveness, healing, hope, meditation, nature, perception, philosophy, redemption, resilience, senses, spirituality, transformation, travel

Some of you are aware that I made the decision to leave my job last week. It had been time for a change, time to have time to do some of the other things that are important to me. I am on a road trip now, with day three just about under my belt. I’ve covered over 1600 miles so far, some of them through torrential rains. Lots of time to think, and I’ve got a bunch of notes already, but tonight I thought I’d share something I’d forgotten I’d stored under the notes application on my phone. I wish I’d taken a photo after the rains today, it would’ve fit perfectly!

January 2015:

days ahead

decisions

time to get unstuck

new truths expressed

untangling of ties

strengthening what needs bonding

scared

sad

recognition of the path

the fog has lifted

Into The Sunshine: Living With Trigeminal Neuralgia

10 Friday Jul 2015

Posted by debintheuwharries in Uncategorized

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

abuse, atypical trigeminal neuralgia, death and dying, healing, hope, meditation, pain, pain management, recovery, senses, transformation, trigeminal neuralgia, trust

trigeminal_neuralgia medicalook dot com

If you were to Google Trigeminal neuralgia, you’d see a number of key features. Wikipedia covers both TN and atypical TN pretty well.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trigeminal_neuralgia

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Atypical_trigeminal_neuralgia

Briefly, it is a neuropathic disorder stemming from the trigeminal nerve. It is marked by episodes of intense pain; in fact, it has been described as being among the worst pain known to humans. You know how the doctor or nurse may ask you where your pain is on a scale of 0 to 10? It’s a 12. It is also quite difficult to diagnosis, and often treatment is tried with the hopes that there may be symptom suppression based on particular symptoms in the face, eye, head and ear, rather than there being a specific test to diagnose it. It has been spoken of as “the suicide disease” because of the intensity of pain and the difficulty in managing the condition. It sometimes presents in older patients after a bout of shingles. It can also manifest as the result of physical trauma.

I have some friends who have heard some of my stories regarding physical challenges that I’ve had throughout my life. I have generally adopted an attitude of acceptance and to large extent tolerance of the various issues. One, however, has been such a challenge that I admit to having wondered from time to time if it was worth continuing to live with it. I am not suicidal. It’s just that everyone has their limits, and I was afraid I was nearing mine. I’d been dealing with a particular set of pain issues for so long (since 1998 I sometimes say, but the lesser episodes came even earlier) that I rarely even talked about it. What for? No one seemed to understand how to help me, and while I appreciate a little sympathy as much as the next person, it was way beyond that by the time I took a chance and spoke about it to a good friend, someone who is knowledgeable about oral/facial issues.

I described the severe pain: stabbing, throbbing, burning pain that I had been experiencing since 1998. The first major flare up was so severe that it had me convinced that something was terribly wrong with my teeth in the upper right quadrant. The dentist I saw for evaluation thought so, too. I was told I needed a root canal. I was shocked, because up until that point, except for several fillings in my teeth, I’d never had dental issues. I loved going to the dentist, in fact. The first root canal was done. I was no better. In fact, I felt worse! She advised that it was now the tooth next to it that also needed a root canal. After the third in a row was completed, it became apparent that something else was going on.

Let me stop here for a second. It’s tempting at this point to say what in the world was the dentist thinking? Incompetent! The fact is, though, that it is not uncommon for people who have experienced this constellation of symptoms in the face to be misdiagnosed. There are folks who have had whole quadrants of teeth extracted, because the pain was assessed as needing this course of treatment. Root canals, I’ve learned, are also not that uncommon.

So fast forward many, many years. Years of avoiding the dentist, as I no longer enjoyed getting work done on my mouth. I’d read up a bit and heard about trigeminal neuralgia, but erroneously thought that surgery was the only definitive treatment, and there were lots of risks involved with that, so I thought well, I am going to have to live with it. The episodes came on a regular basis, but usually lasted less than a day, subsiding over the hours. More recently, it seemed to step up its game. The pain would often last for two days or more. Yes, really. I felt like someone was stabbing my eye with a toothpick, and the eye would run constantly, my jaw would feel locked up, and it seemed like the breaks between episodes were getting shorter and shorter. When I finally took a chance and shared this with my friend, she immediately recognized that I was experiencing symptoms that could indicate TN, and I learned that they have some success with anti-epileptics to suppress symptoms. Did I want to try this? I was prescribed a low dose of gabapentin. I felt some slight improvement, but there were still a lot of what I call break-through episodes.

About two weeks ago, after incrementally increasing the dose to 900mg/day, I started to have some severe break through pain. Honestly? I thought FUCK! This isn’t going to work, what am I going to do, and on and on it went. That afternoon, I was eating a snack at my desk at work and I felt a piece of tooth break in the lower right quadrant. SHIT! Now I had a broken tooth, and I was more in a panic that I would have to have dental work than I was about the cost (and trust me, I was panicked about the cost, so you can imagine). I contacted my oral surgeon friend for a suggestion on what dentist to contact. I had not been to a dentist, not once, since I moved to North Carolina in 2009. Scary, I know, but this is how I have become because of my pain experience. I was given the name of a couple of dentists and chose to make an appointment with Henry Killian in Asheboro. He is really wonderful. He listens well, he has been in practice for decades and he understands. I had the longest evaluation I ever recall by any dentist and we came up with a plan. We were both thrilled, too, that my dedicated efforts to good oral hygiene were apparent. I should get a cleaning at some point, though. 🙂

My oral surgeon friend had asked me a question soon after the tooth broke: how are you doing with regards to the trigeminal neuralgia? I said you know what? It was really bad this morning and I was in panic mode. It is not as severe now. It was suggested that the tooth that broke may have been stressing for days or even weeks and could have been triggering the break through pain. This was actually a great reassurance to me, and reinforced for me the likelihood that this is what I’ve been living with for so long. I have not had shingles, but I have survived physical trauma, and it seems possible that there is a connection. I will explore this in further writings in the months ahead.

When I shared part of this story with another friend the other day, she said “I always think that when you’re cranky it’s because of your challenges with your job, but perhaps it’s the chronic pain”. I have been thinking about that a lot lately, actually. How much one’s mood can be affected by chronic pain is something I am well aware of, but I hadn’t turned the mirror on myself. It helps to know.

I’m doing a lot better now. I may have to increase my dose, as I can still feel it wanting to break through, but the pain level is much more manageable these days.

I feel incredibly blessed to have crossed paths with people who understand, and who care.

2015-06-23 20.36.04 (2)

Retreat weekend with MDSA–brief thoughts

30 Thursday Apr 2015

Posted by debintheuwharries in Uncategorized

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

abuse, forgiveness, healing, hope, meditation, nature, perception, recovery, redemption, senses, sexuality, spirituality, transformation, trust

Ocean Grove MDSA weekend 2015

I think I am going to need some time to process my experience at the retreat I attended this past weekend with Making Daughters Safe Again (MDSA). I would like to share a little bit now, and then more as I see things more clearly. Ten of us, survivors of mother-daughter sexual abuse, along with licensed, clinical therapists and interns did incredible work on the range of issues that confront us as survivors. We had a beautiful space to do the work, a lovely Inn at the Jersey shore.

One of the last things we did as a group, on Sunday morning, was open up boxes that were filled with cards on which we had written notes to each other throughout the weekend. I have taken the notes and compiled the various comments into what feels like a short letter from one person to me. Somehow, it feels more powerful to look at them collectively, although the individual messages are heartfelt and deeply appreciated.

Deborah,

Congratulations on making it through your first retreat! I’m so glad you were able to attend. It was an honor to be a part of your journey. From the first time I saw you, I thought “what a kind smile she has”. As the weekend went on I saw that it was a reflection of who you are, considerate of others and very kind. You were always so affirming and had a warm spirit. My wish for you is that you are on the receiving end of the same, especially from significant others. The way you talked to your mother during the empty chair exercise was amazing! Thank you so much for your bravery in that exercise. It was powerful. I find your courage to share your experiences in an open way incredibly inspiring. I was encouraged to share more and be more vulnerable by your wonderful example. I am so glad I met you. You have inspired me. Your insights were spot on. Thank you for being so open! I was so touched when you shared about your grandfather after I read my letter to my grandmother. I could tell that you truly understood exactly how I was feeling. I hope you will come back. It was great getting to know you. I look forward to seeing you next year.

Repost at Stir Journal: On Forgiveness, Trust, and Desire (Part Two)

29 Saturday Nov 2014

Posted by debintheuwharries in Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

abuse, desire, forgiveness, healing, hope, meditation, nature, perception, philosophy, recovery, redemption, senses, sexuality, spirituality, transformation, trust

Continuing with the re-posting of my essays run at Stir Journal (www.stirjournal.com) I offer the link to Part Two here. I encourage readers to spend time at Stir Journal. They are doing some important and creative work!

http://www.stirjournal.com/2014/11/28/my-stir-on-forgiveness-trust-and-desire-part-two/

On Forgiveness, Trust, and Desire (Part Two)

19 Friday Sep 2014

Posted by debintheuwharries in Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

abuse, desire, forgiveness, healing, hope, meditation, nature, perception, philosophy, recovery, redemption, senses, sexuality, spirituality, transformation, trust

Entangled in Chaos by JEA 9-2013 part two Forgiveness Trust and Desire

I do some of my best thinking while I’m in the shower. Surely that’s not an uncommon thing. Maybe it’s the warm water coursing over the body, relaxing the muscles and releasing tension that may also be locking up thought processes. Anyway, one recent morning my mind wandered over to an essay that I had written, at that point, nearly a year ago. The piece itself is not very lengthy, but it took the better part of my life to be ready to formulate those sentences and share them with, at least theoretically, the whole world. In it, I spoke of my experience as a survivor of mother-daughter sexual abuse. Here is the link to that piece, if you wish to read it. Although this piece stands on its own, reading the earlier essay can put the current piece into perspective: https://visionsofsong.com/2013/09/04/on-forgiveness-trust-and-desire-part-one/

As in Part One, we are now in the period of days prior to the Jewish New Year during which we are mindful of the need to reflect on the past year, on situations in which we may have harmed others, and those in which we have been harmed. We make sincere offers of apology and pleas for forgiveness. We open our hearts to accept apology offered to us, and grant forgiveness for trespasses we have endured. In the earlier essay I have spoken about the internal struggle I have had in trying to find a way towards forgiveness of my mother’s abusive, harmful actions towards me. Those actions which were not limited to abuse of a sexual nature, but for many reasons, my perception, my reality, is that it was those that caused the gravest harm to me. I will be 51 years old next month, and I am only fairly recently moving towards a habituation of love and appreciation for myself and having a relatively balanced sense of comfort in my own skin.

I’d had an expectation of myself after sharing that essay. I anticipated taking a few months to let the feeling of having put it all out there become more natural, after fielding the comments from readers both publicly shared and privately messaged. I sat down and began to write no fewer than half a dozen times between December and July, but barely got started before I got stuck and had to walk away. I was doing a lot of emotional work during that time, which I will touch on here, but I could not get my next set of thoughts to flow. I realized I didn’t know what I wanted to accomplish. I thought, well, maybe that’s all there was? Maybe that’s all I needed to do? It didn’t resonate with me, though, given the rich inner experiences I was having around healing.

Then, with a head of hair full of Pert shampoo, I began to reflect on some work done by Desmond Tutu and his daughter Mpho Tutu. The Forgiveness Challenge is a sensitive, thoughtful, and structured approach to forgiveness. I shall not spend a lot of time describing their work, but I will share the link and encourage you to check it out. It is eye-opening and potentially life changing healing work from two people who know more than a little about the need to forgive. http://forgivenesschallenge.com/  I am in the process of working through the steps, and I read a few pages of their related (but not required) book, The Book of Forgiving. Just prior to my introduction to The Forgiveness Challenge, I had engaged in a series of sessions with a local and very skilled practitioner of EFT. Emotional Freedom Technique. Here again I will not go into tremendous depth about the practice, although you must feel free to send me a message if you have questions. I am generally skeptical about such alternative techniques that make claims that cannot readily be scientifically defended. I suspended judgment because I was curious about it after having a long conversation with the practitioner in an unrelated setting, and because I was in a lot of pain and the idea of freeing up some of that stuff that was holding me back was very tempting. In the end, I found it to be unexpectedly helpful, in that it gave me some language and tools to use to reorient myself and focus my responses to my emotional reactions.

As I rinsed out my hair (which I’ve mentioned elsewhere that I’m allowing to grow longer and wilder by the day) and thought about these different experiences of not merely thinking about forgiveness, but building the skills I seem to lack around relationships, and I had a sudden realization that the next part, and the next essay, would relate the complexity of Trust and Desire in the context of healing from abuse, and about how it is about nothing less than forgiveness: what it is, what it looks like and feels like and how the process of forgiving another for serious transgressions such as child abuse, spousal abuse, hate crimes, is as much about building the framework for healing oneself from the damage of shame, guilt, layers of secrets and self-loathing as it does about freeing the other from the shackles they wear as a result of their crimes—both metaphorical and (occasionally) literal.

As I did with the first essay on the subject, I have borrowed (with permission) a photo taken by friend and nature photographer Eric Abernethy. He has done some remarkable photographic work with birds, turtles, beavers, and a host of others on Lake Lucas, and more recently wanders deep in the Sandhills region of North Carolina capturing phenomenal images of snakes, frogs, and other delights. It’s his imagery from the lake that resonates so strongly for me around this subject: in the first, the mirror work from the dark places, swimming deep and desperate for a lungful of air, and in this, a tangle of thatch, leaves, webs, yet there is sunlight shining through the in-between places. I get the sense of coming up for air: still not in the clear but there is ample reason to be hopeful. The surface is about to be broken.

Sh’ma

19 Sunday Aug 2012

Posted by debintheuwharries in Cochlear Implant and Hearing, Spirituality

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

cochlear implant, hearing loss, meditation, perception

I attended Chevra Torah (bible study) at Temple in Greensboro this morning. I don’t get there as often as I’d like, as I currently reside nearly an hour away. I prefer to make the drive with my friend Jayne, so that we can enjoy what I refer to as our post-Chevra session. The group is large and very different from the experience I had with a study partner several years ago. It has many merits but there is not usually the allowance for in-depth discussion of one or two finer points. That is my study preference, and one I can engage in to a greater extent in the car with my friend on the drive home. She could not join me today, so I was left to mull things over without the benefit of friendly discourse.

An aspect of today’s Torah portion that was of great interest to me was consideration of a single word: hear. One of the best known Jewish prayers is the Sh’ma:

Sh’ma Yis’ra’eil Adonai Eloheinu Adonai echad. Hear, Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One. (Deuteronomy 6:4-9)

The word Sh’ma means to hear. It also can be understood as to obey, as well as to listen. Rabbi Andy led the group in considering the shades of difference between hearing and listening. I was apparently bobbing my head with much more energy than I would have had I been aware of myself. I do not like to draw attention to myself at these gatherings, and with few exceptions am extremely quiet during discussion. This is a product of two factors: fear of tripping over my tongue and not articulating my thoughts well, and tending to focus on one aspect of a discussion and not making rapid transitions from one aspect to another. Even though I can follow a large group discussion with a good deal of accuracy, thanks to my cochlear implanted ears, I still am not a major player in group discussions. But Andy walked over to me and said Yes? I see you’re relating to this? I replied: OH yes, one hundred percent! I live this! I don’t know if he thought I merely meant this in the sense of hearing versus being deaf, and of course there is that element. After all, I am deaf without my cochlear implants and lived the greater part of my life with significant hearing loss. When I was profoundly hard of hearing and without the benefit of cochlear implants (or hearing aids for several years) I was a complete failure at hearing. However, I was an exceptional listener. As a result of using every bit of data available to gather information—beyond hearing whatever I could, reading expressions became my lifeline–I was fairly good at understanding the messages being sent to me.

My exuberant expression of recognition this morning was about more than the functional aspects of hearing and listening. Jokes are often made about certain individuals having “selective” hearing. He or she is accused of hearing what is of interest and conveniently missing the undesirable messages. The ones made at the expense of spouses and partners are usually greeted with loud chuckles and knowing glances. Underneath the smart aleck humor is often a great deal of pain: one does not feel that they are being heard by those closest to them.  I have often been thanked for listening intently to what another is saying. Although the hard of hearing among you may smile with recognition: well of course she does, she has to read their lips! But you know what? I don’t have to anymore, most of the time. I have been given an incredible gift: the ability to hear in reasonably quiet environments without hanging on to the speaker’s every lip movement, every facial expression. However, I find that I connect most deeply with another when I show by my physical actions that I am fully present. I also find that maintaining that practice means a greater chance of being successful at it. I propose to my normal hearing friends that while you may indeed have no difficulty hearing another speak while you have your face averted, you may be unwittingly diverting your attention from the other. In doing so, you may be missing out on the more nuanced aspects of hearing and listening, and depriving not only the other but yourself the deeper connections that make life so rich and satisfactory.  I believe that there are many ways to practice meditation. One needn’t sit cross legged on a cushion to develop the ability to be fully present in the moment.

We also touched upon the concept of seeing versus looking this morning. Andy gave an example of a You Tube video that apparently went viral some time ago. The gist of it was that instruction was given to closely watch some kids playing a game-basketball or volleyball, I think. In the background, but in plain sight, there is an image of a bear walking through the scene.  Apparently there are many people who are so focused on watching the game that they completely miss the bear until a second viewing or until someone points out the fact of the bear in the video. A classic example of missing the forest for the trees! This led me to thinking about what I see when I look up to observe trees silhouetted against the sky. Have you done this? Viewed through one set of “lenses” one can see that there are branches, needles and leaves. Perhaps one notices birds perched or sitting on nests, water droplets and butterflies. Switch the lens and one can see the sky, the clouds, perhaps some fog or drizzle or bright sun. One might observe leaves loosening from branches, falling to earth, or birds taking flight against the blue or grey sky.  Viewed in totality, one can see how all the parts have their place in the scheme. Nothing is superfluous. In the practice of looking and listening comes a greater capacity to see and understand. Everyone needs a reason to get up in the morning. This is mine.

Recent Posts

  • Chronic Pain – Part ONE
  • Dollar Store Rose
  • One year later, reflecting on MDSA
  • Coming to Terms
  • What Matters Most

Archives

  • May 2018
  • May 2017
  • April 2017
  • February 2017
  • September 2016
  • June 2016
  • March 2016
  • February 2016
  • January 2016
  • December 2015
  • November 2015
  • October 2015
  • July 2015
  • June 2015
  • April 2015
  • November 2014
  • September 2014
  • August 2014
  • July 2014
  • January 2014
  • September 2013
  • June 2013
  • May 2013
  • April 2013
  • March 2013
  • January 2013
  • December 2012
  • September 2012
  • August 2012
  • July 2012

Categories

  • abusive relationships
  • camping
  • Cochise Stronghold
  • Cochlear Implant and Hearing
  • death and dying
  • earth
  • Happiness
  • healing
  • immigration
  • migration
  • nature
  • recovery
  • sexual abuse
  • sound
  • Spirituality
  • Travel
  • Uncategorized
  • work

Meta

  • Register
  • Log in
  • Entries RSS
  • Comments RSS
  • WordPress.com
Advertisements

Blog at WordPress.com.

Cancel
Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use.
To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Cookie Policy