Month: December 2023

Personal Expansion and Movement

by 8hummingbirdway

I know the reason things have improved in my relationship with my son. It’s because I recognized, trusted, and acted on the guidance that showed up for me.

It was initially the love from another mother/child bond that I observed – and actually felt – that reminded me I need to support my son, my adult child.

I then shared that experience and my personal challenges/feelings with a particular friend and she had another offering for me. She suggested that I write a few sentences daily – bringing my positive relationship with my son forth …by envisioning and expressing it as an extension of my support for him. My task was to feel the  bond, the love – as I wrote a few sentences – and finding deep gratitude for the change before it even occurred.

The warm and connected response from my son was discernible almost immediately.

He called more often. 

There was ease between us.

The synchronicity of this physical dimension is real.

The answers show up for all of us.

We CAN open ourselves to the information around us – and respond as guided.

Even if it feels strange. Even if we carry doubt or uncertainty.

This is how I’ve come to live my life, to simply accept and follow the wisdom that is evident in each moment of need or uncertainty. And to give thanks.

I feel a little like a crazy person writing this, but my life truly unfolds in this way. Infinitely more so if I allow the available wisdom to guide me.

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Shamanic Healing of Schizophrenia?

by 8hummingbirdway

My sister, my beloved sweet sister who was born 2+1/2 years after me, was diagnosed as schizophrenic in her early teens – after some experimentation with psychedelic drugs. We had moved the summer before she entered 9th grade, and she fell in with the “wrong” crowd. I remember her acting a bit strange the following year, just before I took off for college. But I missed most of the trauma around all this.

Things I remember being told:

  • She asked our younger brother to cut her belly open and put a lamp inside her to help someone or something.
  • She was brought to the “best” institution in a nearby city when she became unmanageable. (There were 3 younger children in the family.)
  • I know she was medicated and raped while whe was at this place.

I’m not sure how long she was institutionalized. I believe it was months, not years.

I remember her having a job at a supermarket a few years later. She had returned home for a while, but then our parents had kicked her out. After a while she tried to kill herself by jumping off a 2nd story porch. She broke her leg.

At some point she became unwilling to take medication.

She spoke of having flashbacks when I spoke with her. I was scared of her and her condition. I missed my sister. I didn’t know what to say to this person. It was like my sister had vanished. My loss of her is one of the deepest losses I have experienced in this lifetime.

She was the one who saved birds and other small critters when we were young. She never hurt a soul.

Later she had a child who I ended up adopting. Story here.

After that my sister lived under bridges; I was told she sold her blood for food. She witnessed a person pushing her friend off a subway platform into the path of an ongoing train. She experienced a lot that I never want to experience. My father managed to stay in touch with her because she called him for financial assistance from time to time. He managed to get her a PO Box, then later, an apartment – with the help of social services.

She stayed away from family for a long long time, but Dad would send a letter to her PO Box and travel from the East Coast to the Phoenix, AZ – where she lived. He told her where and when to meet him, promising a meal, a swim in the hotel pool, a stay overnight if she wanted. He would plan a meeting at a certain place and time. Sometimes she showed up and sometimes she didn’t. This went on for years and years. Eventually she let him know where she lived and he was able to go there annually and pick her up for meals and some time together.

Eventually my youngest sister moved to Colorado. She visited our challenged sister sometimes. Eventually my challenged sister told my compassionate youngest sister that she’d like to be closer to family. This was after our parents had died. My youngest sister arranged for housing and brought her to live nearby. She is present in her life at least weekly.

I have seen my “mentally ill” sister several times since then – at her apartment, at our sister’s home, back East at my brother’s home and at my home. She has seen her daughter/my daughter maybe 4 years ago on her most recent trip East. She met her 2 grandsons once or twice when they were small (they were busy being teenagers and missed our last gathering).

At some point I learned that schizophrenia usually becomes evident in adulthood, not in the teen years.

During my shamanic training I learned that schizophrenia can be a result of being stuck in non-ordinary reality (like on a journey) after the use of LSD – and not knowing how to get back to ordinary reality. That made sense to me. It may have been an LSD experience that never ended.

I mentioned this to my sister, but she isn’t interested in exploring alternatives to the medication she has come to rely on. (The meds have improved over the years.) She has come to live a connected and reliable existence and she is sticking with it.

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Africa!

by 8hummingbirdway

I am so excited! I’m going to Africa in February with my son! 

This trip is the result of shifting to a supportive alignment with him over the past month. I realized that it would be supportive to come on this journey with him and experience all that he has created and impacted in this part of the world. He opened the door to Africa to in 2014, and only one member of our family, my grandson, has taken him up on his invitations to accompany him on a visit.

I became aware that I finally have the resources and the time in my retirement to make the journey. Why wasn’t I going, even after asking him if family members still could come? I had to overcome some fear and discomfort – but if I don’t go now …I have no idea when he’s going again. Or what next year holds for me. I’m 68.

I had to ask myself – was I genuine in my support for him? In my love for my fellow humans that he was helping? Why on earth would I not support him in this way? 

It’s time to get over myself and my fears. 

I have my ticket and my backpack is waiting.

My son has been working in Africa in a helping capacity for over 15 years. When he was in college he spent part of a summer in Uganda under the auspices of “Soccer Without Borders.” His mission was to bring soccer to the village of Ndejje. The village, especially the children, took hold of his heart …AND he saw the absence of books. He learned that each student was required to hand-copy a large textbook in order to access the knowledge contained there. After his return to SUNY New Paltz, he learned how to create a non-profit organization, and The Literate Earth Project (LEP) was born. https://www.theliterateearthproject.org/

Within a couple of years, a library stood on the school grounds in Ndejje, and LEP had partnered with an organization called “Books for Africa,” which filled it with children’s books, encyclopedias, and more.

The first few libraries were largely funded from my son’s own financial donations. Today there are 16 libraries in Uganda, all within or near schools. The funding is largely external, and my son, the founder, still serves on the Advisory Board of LEP. The organization is now run by a dedicated team of full-time staff in Uganda, volunteers, committee members, and board members – with the support and gratitude of the Ugandan government.

Am I proud? Words cannot convey the depth of feeling within me – that my son had the vision, personal generosity, devotion and ability to bring LEP to life. I so love the video of opening that first library. It still makes me cry. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ywdRqyM-Sb4

Here is a later video about books being made available to children at the Imvepi Refugee Camp in Northern Uganda by a nonprofit that LEP partnered with.. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cXsBIGcdCAU

Over the years, my son has expanded his knowledge of the need in Africa and globally, as well as his commitment to be a helping force. He is currently the CEO of another organization that profides training and funds for other nonprofit groups globally.

My son serves on the boards of other helping organizations as well. And he has a paying job. He is truly an outstanding human. He is a force to reckon with, both globally and in our family. He has been a huge personal support to his 2 nephews, my grandsons, who have walked without a father for many years. He is also a regular human being; he’s fun, funny, forceful, and can be a “know it-all” – a trait he learned (from me) as a child.

Our trip in February will include visits to a handful of libraries in Uganda, as well as visiting the sites of organizations that “funded graduates” from the new organization that operate in Uganda and in the Democratic Repubidc of Congo. I’m learning about the individuals and the missions now!

I’m going to have the blessing of being with my son in the world he has engaged with so profoundly. I get to learn and even work with the children who benefit from his work while I’m there! My delight at this prospect is boundless.

I admit I’m a little nervous to step outside my comfort zone. I don’t love sitting in a cramped seat on an airplane for many hours, and I never had much of a desire to cross the ocean – something my son embraces as a result of having a musician for a father, who took him to Germany at the age of 13.

My grandson tells me to always know where we are staying – he almost got lost in Kampala … and to carry toilet paper, as the facilities in the villages are generally a hole in the ground.

I have no idea what I will confront, discover, and encounter in Africa!

Perhaps I’ll return with some things to share.

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Living with Pain

by 8hummingbirdway

This morning I read something that deeply touched me for reasons I cannot explain. I want to share it. It’s about living with PAIN and shifting one’s focus away from this constant companion. It’s about reclaiming your life in the face of great challenge.

In truth, I cannot imagine being able to do this.

I have experienced childbirth, but this is temporary, even when extended. And it’s productive.

So far I do not experience physical pain in this ongoing and chronic way. I hope not to experience this in my lifetime.

I do know that – I can barely say the word – torture can teach one to move beyond or rise above an existence of fear and pain.

This is very difficult for me to write about.

If you want to know more, here’s the link.

https://www.dailyom.com/courses/holistic-approach-to-pain-shift-focus-and-reclaim-your-life?utm_medium=email&utm_source=inspiration-recommendedforyou&utm_campaign=cid_1146-recommendedforyou-2023-12-19&aff=2202&acct=33697458

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My Personal Obstacles to Wellbeing

by 8hummingbirdway

I wrote recently about addiction and mental illness. My personal path has not been as profoundly marked with these specific challenges as others, although both have significantly impacted my life. I have had some experiences which bring me to a level of understanding of others’ paths.

We can be waylaid for a decades by something we perceive as an obstacle – to realize later in life that it can be sidestepped and become a teaching, a strength. This feels like my story, but I’m not even sure how to name the obstacle. There were various aspects to my obstacle – family disharmony, sexual abuse, physical abuse, patterns of deception + betrayal, lack of spiritual or ethical guidance, favoritism – they all resulted in “low  self-esteem”, “codependency”, and other catch-phrases of my generation that are true and yet don’t quite reach the core of what was at play in my psyche. 

I am ”fortunate” in having sugar be my addiction, along with patterns of behavior, misunderstandings, and fear. Cane sugar addiction has been the external substance that has been “enemy” in my life. Both of my parents were diabetic and I recognized the danger in my 20s, but did not fully conquer it until this current decade, my 60s. It seems so small compared to drug and alcohol addictions, and it is. However, it impaired my health, my clarity, my balance and my state of mind. It was an impactful substance to my wellbeing on multiple levels.

Unlike more impactful addictions, sugar didn’t stop me from having a stable family, being a loving parent, holding down a job, or coming to love myself.

The teaching, the strength that resulted in having these challenges, is still at play. I am still learning humility, service and forbearance. These are the answers for me. Stop focusing on self and focus outward. What can I do to be of help? It sounds preachy as I write it, but in truth is has been such a help to me to learn to focus less on self (woe is me!) and look for the proper tasks to do that move me forward and make me a contributing member of my household, my family, my community. This includes a focus on gratitude.

My spiritual search helped mitigate my imbalance and brought me eventually to greater wellbeing, for which I am eternally grateful. It is the basis of my love and generosity, which calls me to the blessed path of helping others.

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My Daughter/My Sister

by 8hummingbirdway

I wrote recently about the fact that my sister gave birth to my oldest daughter. I believe this was a result of a choice I made that caused pain for both of them. See prior post.

My daughter’s path:

My oldest child was born to my sister, who had taken LSD multiple times with a group of friends at a young age, and at some point got “stuck” in an imbalance through her experience. At the age of 14 or 15, she was diagnosed with schizophrenia. Her partner, when she brecame pregnant, was an alcoholic who had served in Vietnam. Things were not easy in their home with a newborn child, and at the age of 3 months my daughter was brought to my mother’s house. My mom cared for her for 10 months while I trained for a career which would enable me to support a child.  One might think this was a simple happy ending, but all her life my daughter has carried the pain of abandonment that all adopted children carry. Trust has never come easy to her. For so many many years she felt less than others. She navigated an abusive marriage, which, thank God, she found the strength to leave when her sons were 8 +10. I carry this knowledge of my beloved daughter’s pain.

Today she is an amazing woman. She has healed and is still healing herself and her sons from abuse. She walks tall and is kind. My grandsons are wise and loving – in college and finding their way to full manhood. She has a job she loves and a partner she loves and is becoming a gardener like her mom (me) and also has a special feeling for animals like her biological mother did when she was younger.

She is a loving and supportive and wise and present daughter. I wish she was closer, but I can get to her in 3 hours. I give thanks for her daily.

My sister’s path:

My sister has not had an easy time of it. It was difficult for us (my parents and 4 siblings) to accept our loss of the gentle person we had known, her imbalance and delusions. She spent time in an institution early on, in which she suffered abuse of various kinds at the hands mostly of other patients, including rape. The medication she was given for mental illness made it difficult to think, function, or relate to others. She had a hard time navigating a job or keeping an apartment. Becoming pregnant did not add to her stability, but she did her best.

At the age of 22, my sister was a migrant worker in Florida. When she realized she was pregnant, she returned to the fold of her family. Her boyfriend followed her back North and they were supported to set up housekeeping in a nearby apartment. I lived 4 hours away, and I remember seeing her once during this time. She really did glow. When my sister went into labor almost 2 months prematurely, she was flown to a hospital. Her daughter was in an incubator for some time, without a lot of touch, as happens. My sister took a bus daily and pumped her breasts at the hospital in a city about an hour away to provide the benefit of natural immunities and nutrients carried only in breastmilk. I remember visiting the baby there. She was beautiful.

I don’t know what happened when she was released from the hospital. I was told that one day my sister’s boyfriend showed up at my mother’s door and told her that our sister had left and said “Here’s the baby.” My mom was not physically strong, but managed to care for the baby for close to a year.

I had no thoughts of parenthood, but my father was forceful – saying this child might be all we had of my sister. I acquiesced. Plans were made for me, the oldest, to become her guardian. About 7 months later the 2 of them showed back up again.

This is where my heart breaks. My sister had been pumping milk for all that time so that she could fill a bottle and once again step into motherhood. However, it was not a positive dynamic that they brought into my mother’s house. I had fully embraced the path ahead and “our” baby was now 10 months old. I was spending weekends with her at both my mom’s and my home.

Now my sister had returned and was setting up obstacles so the baby couldn’t get to my mom. She’d crawl over or around one, and another suitcase or box would be set up. Scarves were draped around her neck. I walked into this scenario unexpectedly on day of my sister’s return. My mom, paralyzed, was allowing this. I banished my sister and her boyfriend, taking “my” daughter home with me for a week while my mom had her locks changed. No conversations. No explanations. No attempt to navigate the change of course with compassion or grace. I just went into protective mom mode and took the action I perceived as correct. [Did I mention how much I loved and missed my sister? A story for another day.]

I think of this as the day I stole my sister’s child.

We didn’t see my sister again for years. This lovely child turned my boyfriend and I into parents; we got married and adopted her. We were a family. We had 2 more children a few years later. My sister did return to the area where our parents lived for a few years, and she and her biological (our) daughter got to know each other during family gatherings. Then she disappeared again. Nothing about any of this – presence or absence – was easy for either of them. 

My daughter never saw her biological father again. Our door was open to him and there was one aborted visit that broke her 4 year old heart. When she was a young adult, he called her off and on for a few years saying “Hi it’s your father.” She informed him one day that he was not her father, and maybe that’s when the calls began to include alcohol and anger. When she moved, he no longer had her number (cell phones). My daughter learned after trying to seek him out a couple years ago that he had died the prior year.

My sister now lives 2 times zones away, has a stable life and our youngest sister and her husband provide connection and family in the form of their children and grandchildren on a regular basis.

My gratitude is boundless.

So much pain all around. But a song arises, strangely from this telling. The words are …

From thee I receive, To thee I give, Together we share, And from this we live.

Because there is also so much love.

I thank my father for keeping my sister and my daughter in our lives.

I thank my youngest sister for providing so much for our challenged sister.

And as well as the knowledge of their pain, I carry the wonder of my sweet sister’s gift to me.

I will tell more about all of this – of us on our joined and separate journeys – at some point.

Listen to song mentioned above (hoping I posted it correctly). https://youtube.com/shorts/F1-eICA5hS0?feature=shared

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My Sister/My Daughter

by 8hummingbirdway

This is a long story that I will tell in pieces. 

I will start by telling about the time I went to see a psychic. I was around 32. The woman lived about 40 minutes away from me and was recommended to me by a friend. She had no knowledge of my life.

I came with a few questions, the first being “What happened to the souls of the 2 children I decided I wasn’t ready to give birth to?” [I had 2 abortions, which I regret today because of my experiences in parenting, my deep love for my children, my love for all children, because of what I have come to understand about the soul, and because of the challenges to myself and others that seem to have been created by that choice.]

I will never forget her answer to my question. “The one is your son and the other is your sister’s child.”

I had been told by a teacher of sorts that the souls of aborted children would circle around the mother and be stuck there for the rest of her life. The woman’s answer, however, brought me a great deal more than relief from that concern. At the time of this meeting I had two children – my very young son and my daughter, 6 or 7, who I had adopted when my sister was unable to care for her child. I told the psychic this, and she was deeply impacted, as was I. In that moment I felt relief, wonder and gratitude.

Over the years, I have also come to understand the grief that resulted from my earlier choices based in fear. I believe that I was meant to be their mom, and am SO grateful that they came again to me. My daughter found another pathway – and my sister must have agreed, at the soul level, to serve us in this way. I do believe that this is the truth of what occurred – and if I am right in my perception, my sister and my daughter have suffered substantially because of my choice.

I understand that I did my best.

I do not berate myself for choices made long ago.

But I do carry the knowledge of the pain I believe I caused.

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Truth, Compassion, and Especially Forbearance

by 8hummingbirdway

About 5 years ago, when I was still working, there was a woman on my floor who I met in the lunchroom a couple of times. She was soft spoken and friendly and her name was Yu. She was born in China. Her department moved up a couple of flights and I didn’t see her again until one day she was out in the courtyard at lunch practicing graceful exercises under a tall tree. A week or two later, I ran into her and asked her about it and she told me she was practicing Falun Gong, a type of Qigong. She invited me to join her anytime and she would teach me the exercises. 

And so my relationship with Falun Gong, also called Falun Dafa, began. I liked the graceful exercises. There was an aspect of dance to them. There were 5 of them. 1, 3 + 4 were fairly easy to learn. Number 2 was more challenging. It involved holding one’s arms up in a circle position (like wheel) for a long time in 4 different positions. It lasted 30 minutes and was grueling for a while, never easy. However, I was engaged by the flow and balance and grace of the exercises, and I mastered #2. Meanwhile, I was introduced to #5 which was called “Strengthening Divine Power.”  Each exercise has a name, an intention, and music that goes with them. Exercise # 2 was nothing compared to #5 where one is to sit in full lotus position for a full hour. I started with half lotus for 30 minutes and was able to push it to 40 or 45 minutes on occasion.  It was very uncomfortable – and that is part of the reason for it – to develop forbearance.

I practiced the exercises at home when we couldn’t meet. I found them compelling.

After several months of doing the exercises at home and at lunch breaks, I was invited to join a group that Yu was part of. She seemed to be the leader. They met in the evening and read from a book called Zhuan Falun, meaning Revolving the Law Wheel. This book contained the philosophy and beliefs behind the exercises. I had no idea about the book or the beliefs when I first learned and practiced the exercises. There was much in the book that I easily aligned with. There were also things that seemed fantastical, but I have learned not to judge prematurely. I do not pretend to know everything. I hold the information within me and I allow it to sit there. The most impactful thing to me was the 3 main tenets: Truth, Compassion, and Forbearance. Truth and compassion were familiar to me. I am devoted to truth, at least to my truth and I often find that the “truth of the matter” is key to me in navigating my life. Compassion is also an old friend. I do my best to sustain compassion. I sometimes fail, but it is a path I respect, admire, and aspire to navigate.

Forbearance, however, was a new concept to me. It translates into simply “putting up” with what I encounter. I had never been that kind of person. I fought with my big opinioin against unfairness and faulty judgment (especially in others), thinking I had all the answers. The book gave many examples of the proper way to conduct oneself and I found it wise. I may not have understood all of it, but I came to understand that I was lacking, not the book. It was my introduction to a deep humility that I find extremely valuable.

The discussions after reading the sections were helpful, and I slowly made changes that were difficult, yet so valuable to my personal development and my path in this life.

The following Spring I met with some members of the group outside weekly and we did the exercises together (as much as I was able). Sometimes we would read afterward. I was the only non-Chinese person, and was treated with kindness, respect, and increasing warmth.

In June of that year I was in a bicycle accident that injured my trachea, making one of the exercises unwise to do for a couple of years, and I stopped my pursuit of Falun Dafa altogether. I feel I have recovered, but I haven’t returned to the practice. It’s a big time commitment to do the exercises daily and to pursue the teachings – and I’m not ready to make that commitment at this time in isolation, or commit to meeting with the group.

Perhaps the day will come again. I feel the pull as I write these words. Until then, I remain grateful for the experience and for having developed forbearance – and the humility that it engenders within me.

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Addiction and Mental Illness

by 8hummingbirdway

Why does addiction have to exist? Why can’t we be protected from all harmful substances – from heroin to pesticides? Why can’t we be born into an environment of support, understanding, wisdom, love and harmony that would help us avoid the pitfall of addiction?

Addiction provides SO MANY challenges to block our way, pitfalls to get lost in, and falsities to misguide, weaken and frighten us.

I have watched a beloved member of my family fight addiction to drugs and alcohol for years and years. This is a kind, loving, funny, strong, loyal, helpful and delightful person of deep insight and perception. Addiction manifested early in this person’s life – with a group of experimenting friends, some of whom died young, some who did not succumb as fully, and some who are still figuring out how to be free of this burden. This soul-wrenching challenge brings them to their knees over and over again. I am grateful for AA, for the sponsors that show up repeatedly, and for the slow progress to stability, self-knowledge and personal wellbeing. (I know there are other pathways to recovery as well.) I am also grateful for family members that embrace and support our beloved one reliably, despite the pain we experience. We have had to learn to mitigate our disappointment and worry, to accept what is, what lines to draw and how to draw them in a way that is most helpful but does not harm us.

And then there’s mental illness. Two members of my immediate family were diagnosed as schizophrenic. More distant family members have been diagnosed as bipolar, “on the spectrum.” depressed, and borderline personality. I have to say I have my doubts about many of these diagnoses. Are the symptoms that allow categorization into these ever-newly created diagnoses simply responses to the emotional, spiritual, mental and physical environment we are born to? Are the medications simply to keep those with reactions to our culture “manageable?”

I feel I understand the reason for the existence of addiction and other obstacles to our wellbeing. I believe we choose them before stepping into life. I believe that we navigate multiple incarnations that include severe challenges of body, mind, and more – that result in increased wisdom as a result of encountering and rising up above these conditions – and sometimes wisdom gained by failing to overcome the challenges.

One of my tasks as a shamanic practitioner is to assist those who have died but have not come to terms with their lives. Often they have not been able to forgive themselves for the steps they took in their lives. Because of this (or for other reasons), they cannot move on or return to Source, to Spirit, to God. Engaging with and assisting these lost souls has taught me a great deal about the unfoldment of life, about forgiveness of self and others, and about how we gain knowledge.

Another task is to help those still living to heal their trauma. I am grateful for having landed in a place where I can help to mitigate the challenges, to show a way forward, call forth wellbeing and self love.

There are many who do not find their way to help, who are lost in the fog of addiction, mental illness and other obstacles to wellbeing. Some of them are people I love; some of them may be people you love. Our options are to either stand by or let go, hopefully in love.

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More about Dad

by 8hummingbirdway

I wrote recently about my father being fun and present when I was growing up. He played with us kids when he got home from work, took us “big” kids out on Saturdays, and actually took me to a couple of rock concerts when I was a teenager.

A lot of fathers barely engaged with their childrenin the 1950’s and 60’s. I have come to realize how fortunate I was.

Dad and I experienced some disharmony later in life, and we were estranged during the last few years of his life. Perhaps I will write about this someday; it’s a vulnerable place for me. Our estrangement was largely my doing and was not entirely justified.

More and more I look back and realize that he was a present and loving father. He is the source of much that I am and strive to be.

I met Dad in a lovely dream a couple years ago. We were watching over my older daughter, as we both did when she was little. I told him I hoped we would meet again in another lifetime – and sustain harmony. He said “I don’t know about that. We both have strong personalities and have often opposed each other.”

I guess that explains some things.

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