Standing on Fishes

Being human, Challenge, Living fully
Posted on 16 Comments on Standing on Fishes

Rosario Strait from Orcas 7/2015 photo by Mary DesseinMy rudder is loose.
Not so as to be lost or aimless, simply less firmly on course than usual. The boat is afloat, and there are other boats nearby so I know where I am. Occasionally one will sidle up to me to check on my course, reminding me I am part of a deeply generous community. I see numerous ports and docks shrouded in a filmy mist, visible yet unclear as to which is closest.

Driving my son to the airport at 4:30 a.m. on Saturday, All Hallows’ Eve, also known as All Saints’ Eve the day before All Saints Day, took some more pins out of the rudder‘s shaft. I felt the extraction, embedded nails being eked out of an old board. October 31 is the first day of three days dedicated to remembering the saints, the martyrs, and the faithful departed (the saints are the hallows, an old Scottish word for sacred or saintly, as in hallowed ground.) A shard of my heart walked away from me through the zone 4 door 8 portal into the melee of frenzied travelers and security staff. His tall form, topped with a Dale Earnhardt cap, merged into the bustle as I pulled away from the curb.

Losing my Mom in early September pulled a couple pins out, yet it also put some in place; as at ninety-one, she was ready to go, she passed peacefully, and my hand was on her chest as she took her last breath. There lies another rich story. Her memorial had brought my son, ever so briefly, as his heart steered him to homeport.

When I was on Orcas Island the end of July for StoryFest in East Sound, the expansive view from near the top of Mount Constitution humbled me as I looked into the depthless hues of blue where water merged into islands into horizon into sky. I thought, How have I never seen this before? Or more accurately, How have I looked at such beauty and not seen it‘s magnitude? As I stood there gazing out, I felt part of the horizon, like waking up after a long sleep and looking gratefully at familiar surroundings; wondering how could I navigate amidst all of it and absorb its wonder.

A few days later, my nephew and his remarkable wife, had a birthday celebration for their two youngest kiddoes, who’s birthdays are five days apart. The picnic was at Legion Park, on the bluff overlooking Port Gardner in north Everett. As I walked across the lawn to the great maple tree where the picnic was set up and the barbecue wafted tendrils of sizzling burger smoke toward me, there beyond Jetty Island was that depthless blue. Possession Sound, the Snohomish River delta emptying into Port Gardner, Hat Island, Port Susan, Camano Island, Whidbey Island, and the Saratoga Strait.

The shapeless haze melded it all together. How have I not seen this infinite beauty before? As on Orcas, I felt myself wanting to blend into it, as much a part of the haze as any molecule of moisture composing it. As Rainer Maria Rilke said, “I feel closer to what language can’t reach. With my sense, as with birds, I climb into the windy heaven, out of the oak, and in the ponds broken off from the sky my feeling sinks, as if standing on fishes.”

How do I find my way through the beauty of the world as well as the uncertainty? The structure of my life, established by employer, commitments, and other responsibilities, made steering the boat simple, my hand on the rudder felt confident. Now, important people and things in my life are gone or changed. Fishes have their rudders firmly attached. Lucky them.

Maybe lucky me. Pins can be added, subtracted, altered, replaced, retooled. As can rudders. As can souls. The hallowed path I now walk rises before me, the looseness a new kind of rudder.

The Gold Ring

Being human, Fear, Living fully
Posted on 6 Comments on The Gold Ring
Straight-jacket escape performer, Boston, Oct., 2013. Photo by Mary Dessein
Straight-jacket escape performer, Boston, Oct., 2013. Photo by Mary Dessein

“Do something, even if it’s wrong!”
When I heard my father say those words when I was a kid, I cringed. How old-fashioned, how out-of-it. Anybody knows that doesn’t make any sense. Truth be told, I was a tad embarrassed that my dad was so clueless.
Now fifty years later, I realize how clued in he actually was. I hope he is smiling.

Inaction, waiting for something to happen, or for an answer to appear have not worked well for me, although it has taken decades for me to recognize the many facets of inaction.
Caution is one thing. Inertia is another. Preparation and research can be a part of the action. ACT: Action Changes Things, I was told recently. Ask questions, go to the meeting, act on a decision, do something new, follow up on a lead. Waiting to see what will happen often insures that nothing will happen. Life is not a merry-go-round which keeps taking you past the gold ring until you grab it.
That sneaky little voice inside that says, “People will think you’re stupid.” “People will know you don’t know what you’re doing.” I have been suckered by that fearful part of me so many times. Yee gods and little fishes, fear is a thief. So is self-doubt and the part of me that allows it.
People might think I’m stupid? So what? If they do, their judgment is their business. People who know me already know I’m the best thing since apricot jam on a flaky croissant. I might be embarrassed? I have been embarrassed so badly so many times, what would one more be? Once it went past my ability to keep track of on my fingers and toes, counting my faux pas became like counting the stars in the sky: an endless and not very useful diversion.
A couple Thomas Edison’s quotes, “I haven’t failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that don’t work.” And, “The most certain way to succeed is always to try just one more time.”

Do something, even if it’s wrong. You’re going to learn something.

Dr. Howard W. Jones died last month at age 104. He still worked part-time until he was hospitalized two weeks before he died. Ground-breaker, life-changer. He and his wife, Dr. Georgeanna Seegar, pioneered in-vitro fertilization and so much more. He once said, “If I have a legacy, it’s of someone who…did not have any qualms about proceeding with the unknown because it was fun to do.”
Jack London said, “I’d rather be ashes than dust.” He knew a little bit about living, his legacy still ripples through literature.

If a mistake moves me forward, is it wrong? I say no. Dad was right (yet again), “Do something.” Pretty soon it is ten years later, or twenty, or the fiftieth birthday has past, and we’re waiting for…what exactly? Opportunity that comes on a nice platter polished with a guarantee? A possibility of success in a gilded frame? The gold ring determined to be valuable by other people?

Jodi Picoult, Dmitri Matheny, Antonio Rocha, Geoffrey Castle, Kevin Costner, and Meryl Streep did not stand around waiting for a bus that might come by. Like countless others, they did something, even if somebody else was shaking their head.

At a training recently, Elizabeth Ellis said to us, “I’m a storyteller (or writer, or…, you fill in your own blank), what am I going to do about it today?”
So something didn’t work? Okay, what am I going to do next?

Belonging

Being human, Performance, Storytelling
Posted on 9 Comments on Belonging

 

balloon-down

The Pacific Ocean is small compared to the size of what I don’t know.

However, what I do know is that belonging is about the most important thing for a human being. Little kids know it, and are completely unabashed about it; they totally know they need to be with people, be in a group, be together with others. As adults, we often try to be cool and not look like we need to belong. Yet we do.

How we do that belonging thing is by hanging out with like-minded, and in many cases, like-hearted people. Some people are born into a bunch of folks like that, and some people not, so then it’s our mission to find them. Like-minded is fairly easy: talking about ideas and politics and workplace issues is pretty safe, and there is a sense of belonging there, even if it is temporary.

Although it was always an undercurrent in me, I didn’t recognize the like-hearted part until I grew up. Like way up: age 50! Like-hearted is where the life is, where the soul is.

Belonging is telling and listening to stories. Stories are what make us human and show us how to make sense of the world. They remind us how others have walked these paths before us. Stories allow us to validate who we are by telling our anecdotes, triumphs, and not-so-much’s. The not-so-much’s were painful or embarrassing or sad but now that they’re past, they’re funny. And the source of our wisdom.

I’ve asked before, “Why do we come to an open mic like this?”
Yes, dreams are part of it. Being brave, trying something new, pushing our boundaries, perfecting our craft, getting some feedback, watching to see what happens next. There are as many reasons to be here as there are people in the seats.

Yet I’m tellin’ ya, it’s about belonging somewhere we value. Being validated. Being recognized.
And when that happens, having something inside me clink into place that says, “Oh yeah, I matter.”

(Photo by Mary Dessein)

Getting in my way

Fear, Personal growth
Posted on 6 Comments on Getting in my way
Clouds over Washington
Photo By Mary Dessein

What a concept – things I say and do which sabotage the goals I proclaim to have. Most of the time, I don’t see these obstacles as self-erected: not allowing enough time for traffic; trying to squeeze too many tasks in before I leave; saying yes to others’ requests when I need to say no; procrastinating; minimizing the negative consequences; or the ever useful tactic of blaming people, places or things for my problems.

Another concept: getting out of my own way! I watch amazing fiddler, Geoffrey Castle, go non-stop in perfecting his craft; insightful, compelling writer, Stephanie Kallos, follow her intuition in draft after draft of a novel; master storyteller, Elizabeth Ellis, perform, write, and teach with such generosity while she travels back and forth across the country; and dynamic writer and teacher, Bill Kenower, come alive when talking about writing. Passion. Belief. Determination?

At a luncheon recently, I heard a peer say they didn’t know what else to do besides what they were doing. Is that fear leaning against the door of opportunity? If so, how do I look inside myself to sort out what is really important to me and how to get there? Get there from the safe, known, perhaps mediocre, place of here?
A friend and I were talking about dreams. His was to work at a job he enjoys and is well-trained for in Hawaii. Seemed feasible and fabulous to me. “Oh no, I’ll never get to do that,” he said. His answer to why not was vague and the conversation shifted to something else. Are we back to fear again?                                                                                                                               Do I put things in my own way so I don’t have to even approach failure or disappointment – easily two of life’s more profound teachers. Have I put the illusion of safety between me and what will truly fulfill me?

When I Grow Up

Fun, Personal growth, Writing
Posted on 2 Comments on When I Grow Up

photo 1I want to be like Cleo Kocol or Neil Diamond. Cleo’s recent picture (above) shows her joie de vivre. She gave a presentation, which she does a variety of regularly, about Fanny and Robert Louis Stevenson. Cleo’s 88 and I can barely keep up with her. Her novel, The Good Foreigner, was named one of the best books of 2014 by Amazon. I must say I agree with them, I love that book. Cleo always has a project or event she’s engaged with.

Neil Diamond: I still swoon listening to ‘Play Me,’ and sigh when I hear ‘Morningside.’ Neil’s music changed the world, or perhaps more accurately, how we moved through it, for millions of people. He’s 74 and off on a world tour. Mercy, I think I’m all that when I make it to Seattle and back, which is an hour away.

Finding our way in the world is about choices. Another one of those concepts which I understood the words yet the real meaning only settled truly into me within the last few years as I started to connect what I had done ten, and twenty, okay thirty years previously with the circumstances I currently had. The Good Foreigner also showed me the consequences of choices, so many irrevocable. Most of mine have been irrevocable, too. I sure did not think about that at the time I made them.

I want to move through the world with energy and grace. Hope and optimism. Kindness and compassion, and releasing the blame. Rejoicing in the gifts of age, and accepting of it’s limitations.

As Neil sang in 1969, “And the seed, let it be filled with tomorrow.”

 

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