An Open Letter to the Woman who's Choice Changed My Life

Dear Mother,

You are not my mother, but you are the other mother of my daughter. You gave birth to her nine years ago today. You made a decision, and you let your daughter live. You did the only thing a family like yours was able to do in China in 2003. You, or someone close to you, brought your tiny baby girl to a sidewalk, probably in the wee hours of the morning. The person who placed her gently, wrapped in many blankets, likely hid somewhere to make sure this tiny baby was found. Indeed, she was. She was taken in to a hospital only a few blocks away, and examined. The way she sucked down a bottle offered to her, they realized she is one tough little girl, and off she went, on the path that would eventually bring her to me.

I can't even imagine the pain you must have endured, knowing you had to give up this child you had carried inside your body, being one with her, nourishing her for months. I know you will always remember her. On her birthday, I wonder if it makes you sad to think about what it would have been like had you been able to keep your baby. So, though I know you will never read this, I am writing it because I would like to be able to express my gratitude.

Daisy (that is her English name) came into our lives in August of 2005. She was a feisty little girl, 18 months old, still eating with great gusto. She proved that she could love and be loved very early in her relationship with her new family. When she met her three older brothers, she took over running the household. People always say, Daisy's future suitors are going to have a tough time getting past her brothers. Actually, Daisy's brothers are going to have a tougher time getting Daisy to approve of their future girlfriends.

Daisy is a hardworking, artistic, sweet, helpful, assertive, friendly young lady. She loves school, and works very hard to do well. She is eager to please. She draws and paints, and loves crafts. She is almost always happy, but she is not a push over. She will stick up for herself, and is not afraid to tell other people what to do. She is a good friend to others, and she has good friends too. She loves to dance. I wonder, what of these traits do you share with her?

She is tall and beautiful, and healthy and happy. She likes to be a girly-girl and a tomboy. She is in fact, a wonderful child in every way I can imagine, and I just wanted to share a little bit of who she is becoming with you, dear lady, who's impossible selfless decision made Daisy part of my family. Thank you.

With love and gratitude,
Daisy's other mother

...and Hello, with Intention, to 2012

This morning I went and did my traditional annual New Year's Day labyrinth walk, with a group of my friends. Though I had just been a few hours earlier, to close 2011, this was the start of the new. I was so glad I went last night because it really gave me some much needed closure to a challenging year. I was ready to start fresh.

My day started early, before the walk, with reading some, and I saw this Facebook post by Dr. Wayne Dyer:
"Forget about those New Year’s resolutions in which you decide on the first day of January how you will be conducting your life for the next twelve months. Instead, set up day-to-day goals for yourself, and then resolve to begin living with present moment awareness for the rest of your life. When you get good at living your present moments one day at a time, you’ll see yourself changing right before your own surprised eyes. Remember, anyone can do anything for just one day, so tune out the sentences that keep you locked into your old self-defeating ways and begin to enjoy each day of your bright new year.
What are some things you've wanted to do for yourself, one day at a time?"

I realized that although setting goals is very important, reevaluating is important also. Time moves quickly and things change. This turned out to be a theme for the morning. My friend Sarah read a piece before we walked, and I was struck by these words, "Change is the only constant." That seemed very accurate of late. We were talking about how things happen so quickly now. With technology, and the ability to travel, general busy-ness, we are not the same society we were a few years ago. Being adaptable to change is, and will be the key to less stress in my life. With all that took place in 2011, and the many times I felt so overwhelmed, it is obvious that adaptability is important. I also know that adapting to change will take work, but it is work I am eager to do.

I entered the labyrinth with that intention...to meditate on change and adaptability. There was a group of about 10 of us walking, but somehow, we were all on our own path. I observed that people can be with me, but I am still responsible for the path I choose. People pass through my life in different ways, some connect, some don't. All have some impact.

So, then suddenly, momentarily, my friend Mary was on the path next to mine, and she reached over and gave me a hug. She was dropping an occasional rose petal as she walked. I whispered, "I love the roses." The petals were blowing, drifting, crossing my path frequently. The next time Mary was near me, she reached out and handed me a petal. It was shaped like a heart. I noticed all the other petals strewn about were heart shaped also. I experienced a shift in my thinking. Change is the only constant....but the other constant is love. I was flooded with a sense of peace. Love is constant. It made me think of the end of one of my favorite books, The Bridge of San Luis Rey, by Thornton Wilder. This quote from the book was ringing in my mind. "But the love will have been enough; all those impulses of love return to the love that made them. Even memory is not necessary for love."

When I finished walking, I sat down on a bench in the bright sunshine to write a few thoughts. It turned into Haiku poetry. I write Haiku a lot, so this is what came to me.

Hearts are in flowers
Flowers all along my path
Remind me to love.

My path, full of change
Reevaluate, adapt
Carry on with love.

As I was sitting and writing, for the first time in months I saw a falcon flying overhead. I've seen falcons on occasion, and it is always an amazing experience. I love them. They represent strength, power, and freedom to me. The bird, the only thing visible in the crystal clear blue sky, flew a lap around the open area of the labyrinth, low enough for me to see feathers and pattern on its underside, then flew up and over the trees and away. The falcon reinforced what I was already thinking about...the strength, power, and freedom of love.

Cheers...to an amazing 2012.

Saying Goodbye, with Intention, to 2011

This evening, as the sun was setting on the eve of 2012, I decided I needed to do something formal to mark the end of 2011. So, I rallied my children, and we all headed to do a labyrinth walk at my favorite labyrinth on the University of St. Thomas campus.

I walk this labyrinth New Year’s Day every year, but this time, I felt like I needed to leave behind, before I could start fresh. The first thing I noticed was an overwhelming scent of roses. The rose bushes around the labyrinth had not been trimmed, and there were many, many blooms past their prime, withering, and releasing an unbelievable sweet scent. Upon a closer look, there were some fresh buds also, but the ending roses were far more plentiful than the beginning.

There was a family sitting on the far side, on a bench. There was a nursing baby. After the baby was finished, the Dad walked around with the baby boy. He was a tiny newborn, not more than a few days old…a promise of a life to be lived, surrounded by the love of his parents and grandparents now, and many others in the future. Seeing that promise of the future was very palpable to me as I walked on the winding path of the stone labyrinth.

I needed to acknowledge a challenging year for me, then tomorrow look to the future. So, with intention, what did I want to leave behind, in the sunset of 2011? Several things, in fact.

First, I leave behind some health struggles of the past year. I have made great progress on adapting my life to my current physical abilities, but I will focus on taking care of myself as a real priority in the coming year.

Second, I leave behind financial stress. I know my needs will be met. I know I am secure. Money is not worth the stress I have allowed it cause in my life.

Third, I leave behind strained relationships. I work to improve important difficult relationships, and not let issues bother me so much when my efforts to improve relationships fail.

2011 wasn’t all bad. I’m grateful, even for the struggles, because through the struggles I have grown. I am eternally grateful that we all walked away with only minor bumps and bruises from a major car accident in the spring. I am grateful that we have a comfortable vehicle to replace the one we lost. There have been many good times too, with good friends, with my family, and even in my reclaimed yoga practice, meditation, and even occasionally pampering myself. I made a few new friends. I reconnected with old friends. I started a new job.

I am very grateful for my job. I love my work. I love the people with whom I am working. I love the flexibility. This job completely fell from the sky. It came when a door in my life slammed shut at the beginning of last year. The door to the new job could not have opened with out that event. If a door closes, another will open. Or at least there will be a window to crawl through, to what comes next.

The support I have received from friends and family is another source of extreme gratitude. I am fortunate to have so many people who care about me. I have enjoyed volunteer work this year. I’m not on a path to save the world, but I did find small ways to give back to my community, and that always makes me feel good.

My children have grown, matured, struggled, triumphed, needed me, pushed me away, laughed, cried; shared happiness, excitement, anger, and frustration. I got to be here for all of it. They are indeed, four amazing people. I am so proud of them, and hope they are proud of themselves.

#1 has applied to colleges, and already been accepted, with some scholarship money, to several. He is a huge help to me, and to others.

#2 adjusted beautifully to high school. After being in a school that was like a family for middle school, he is thriving in a public academic high school environment.

#3 played baseball, soccer, and joined scouts. He is thriving at his new school, and is once again the child I knew for the first several years of his life, before school struggles beat him down so far. He is happy and musical again.

#4 loves dance, is adjusting well to her new school, and continues to be a social butterfly, a nurturer, and a ready helper.

And I, their mother, am grateful.

I discovered a lot about myself as a writer this year. I took an essay writing class. I submitted 2 pieces for publication. I wrote over 37,000 words in the month of November. I learned a lot about my process, my inspiration, and the power of setting goals.

Finally though, 2011 ends for me with the beginning of a solution to another fairly significant health issue, some disappointments, the promise of a wonderful new friendship, four happy children, and an eye toward improvement in 2012.

Light and New

I began this new morning of the new year the way I have for the last 4 years or so, with a walking meditation at a labyrinth near my home. Each year it is a completely different experience from any before. Today was no different. Walking a labyrinth is a journey that can reveal much, if you open your eyes and ears, and observe.

The weather of late has matched my demeanor. This has been a tough few months, health, loss of 2 dear friends, drama in many different parts of my life, and me turning inward and feeling stuck. It has been either very cold, or warm and muggy, cloudy, and decidedly not spectacular. Today, though, I woke to see the clouds blowing away, and the sparkling blue and bright sun peaking through.

It was quiet at the labyrinth. Much more so than usual. My friend Sheron and I were the only people there for the whole hour. The sounds were the fountains and the wind. And the quiet serenity. It was warming and the sun was bright, the air clear and clean. As I began my walk, I realized that my jeans legs were too long and were dragging. It was bothering me. I stopped, rolled them up and continued. The first thought--I can remove any obstacles that are in the way of my forward movement. Wow, that was in the first few steps! Then, I realized that for a few moments, Sheron and I were walking along side by side, on different parts of the path. Sometimes, I will have a friend or companion, and sometimes I will be alone. Both ways, I can keep moving forward. Wow again.

I slowly made my way to the middle, and in my journey, I felt myself calming, releasing, and focusing. One word kept coming to me, purpose. Purpose. I know that is the word I must focus on this year, because when I was thinking about anything, the word purpose kept relating to all my thoughts.

Once in the middle of the labyrinth, I stopped to stand for a moment. In each of the petals in the middle, I focused on one specific thing that is important to me...Family, Health, Focus and Intention, Happiness and Joy, Prosperity and Success, Peace and Serenity. Then, I stepped back to the middle, and the word that was so pervasive at that moment was Love. I felt love. I felt clear, unblocked, and light.

On my journey along the path out from the center, I felt my strength and focus, and optimism returning like a flood, blowing back to me on the breeze. The labyrinth was surrounded by beautiful roses. I stopped to smell them, and during the year to come, I plan to do a lot more of that sort of thing...stop to notice the beauty that is always around me.

I changed the signature line on my email after several years. Now it is a Mother Teresa quote, "Peace begins with a smile." Peace in the world, and peace within. Peace in 2011.

Pas De Deux

This weekend we went to see The Nutcracker at the Houston Ballet. I love the ballet. As art goes, and I love art, ballet has to be my favorite. At this moment. I've probably seen the Houston Ballet Nutcracker a dozen or so times. Now, though, I not only enjoy it, I have the perspective to enjoy others enjoying the performance.

The lobby was full of families at the Saturday matinee we attended. The little children, all dressed up in their fancy holiday clothes, the matching dresses, the shiny and sparkly shoes, the brushed hair and smiling excited faces created a happy swirling pool of activity. I could have stood in a corner for hours observing.

My nephew, aged 2, was sitting in the row in front of me. He is all activity, all the time, 100% boy in motion. He sat, mesmerized, for the entire performance, absolutely still, leaning forward in his chair. At intermission his only complaint was, "I want more dancing now!" My own children, and my niece were enthralled as well, even though all of them have seen it before.

There was a little girl sitting behind me, Katherine, and she absolutely delighted me throughout the performance. Her comments and expression were priceless. When the Arabian Dancers came on stage in the second act, she gasped, and said, "Ah! What's that?! That is beautiful!" As she watched their piece, she said, almost under her breath, "Oh, it's so pretty!" It actually brought tears to my eyes. Indeed it was a highlight of the performance.

Ballet for me is like beautiful kinetic sculpture. We were sitting close enough to see every muscle in the legs of the dancers. Their legs are beautiful, controlled, strong, while their upper bodies are floating. I think about the amount of work that goes into being a dancer, performing in one of the nations best companies. I think the preparation required is more than how people prepare to make any other kind of art. The dedication, the discipline, the work from childhood that only gets more intense. I admire the dancers who have the ability to accomplish their goal of being the beauty we get to enjoy.

The costumes were beautiful, the lighting enhanced the performance, the musical score by Tchaikovsky is delightful. However, the pas de deux, is my favorite. Watching the two dancers flow across the stage, grace and quiet but spectacular movement, the costumes, the care and control of the male dancer, the trust of the female dancer all make this particular aspect of ballet the ultimate for me. My heart leaps into my throat, and stays there for the whole piece. The dancers become the only thing in my universe for those few moments. But it was even better this time. As the Sugar Plum Fairy floated on to the stage for the grand pas de deux, Katherine gasped, "Ah! Who's that Pretty in Pink?!"

Feeling the Love

Today I did nothing in particular, which was very special. It was a whole day and evening, with hardly any specific plans. I, in fact, really tried hard to keep today more simple than most of the rest of my days. Having an unscheduled day was my gift to myself. Today is my birthday.

Call me crazy, but the thing I most wanted to do today was get my desk cleared. I focused on it, and I was actually done, with a few breaks, by 11:00am. It made me feel so good all day. I'm not finished with all the tasks, but at least all the tasks have a place now. (I know, this sounds terribly compulsive, but it has really been bugging me, so it feels great to have it done.)

I did get to see a couple of friends at various points during the day, and my children and I made sushi for dinner. My parents called and left a singing message on my voice mail. I actually talked with them later.

However, the most remarkable thing that happened today is the outpouring of love and birthday wishes from friends around the world. I am so grateful for the people I love, and for the many people who care about me. I received cards in the mail, emails, e-cards, phone calls, text messages, and LOTS of birthday wishes on Facebook.

I reached a milestone a few days ago. I added my 500th Facebook friend. I didn't think it was possible for anyone to have 500 friends, but really, I have heard from so many today, it has blown me away.

So today, I celebrate you, the people I love so much, who care about me. I am grateful for each and every one of you, and for the many wonderful ways you touch my life. Thank you.

The Magic of Coit Tower

It always starts with my first glimpse of Coit Tower. It is that feeling that pervades me that magic really does happen here. San Francisco is a magical place.

Coit Tower always reminds me of my uncle, Jeff, who I visited in this wonderful city for a week several years ago. The first place we met up upon our arrival was at the Tower. The view of the city, the bay, the bridges were breathtaking. Jeff then proceeded to lead us down the hill, through people’s gardens, telling us about all the people he had known who lived there. We even saw wild parrots along the way. At that point in time, Jeff had lived in San Francisco over 25 years. He continued to fascinate me, with the insider’s view of this beautiful city, and stories and insight into my own family as well. I feel his spirit here still.

The fog keeps the area shrouded in mystery. It is so beautiful the way it flows over the hills, and then retreats, revealing patches of blue, which then disappear. It is like the mystery is revealed, but only briefly. Little glimpses of the city that sparkles.

When we arrived this week, we headed from the airport directly to the Ferry Terminal building. It was cloudy when we first arrived, and then the sun peeked out for a few moments, revealing Coit Tower atop Telegraph Hill in the distance.

Having a child along on a trip always reminds me to see the magic. Not that I need much of a reminder here. As she was skipping along the sidewalk, she said, “There are sparkles in the sidewalk! It is like it is filled with diamonds or something.” Diamonds indeed. Everywhere there are little gems I observed.

I got here, and was so completely flooded with things I wanted to write, that I was completely overwhelmed. At last my brain had an opportunity to think about something other than my daily to do’s. It actually took me until half way through this journey to be able to still my busy thoughts, and then let my mind flow.

I can’t let myself get that overwhelmed by my life that I forget to observe, and to allow time to record my observances. I must find a way to carve out some time to process things. To linger and enjoy experiences instead of rushing from thing to thing, always rushing. To allow myself to be. To just be.

We are staying in a beautiful house on Tomales Bay. A moving blanket of fog usually tops the green hills across the water. The bay is alive, with different water birds about at all hours. The water can be smooth as glass or choppy as the wind increases. Gorgeous flowers bloom all around. Wild fennel abounds with its yellow lace on thin pale stalks. Hummingbirds hover over red blooms near the deck. Succulents abound on this, the dry side of the bay. There are wild artichokes. There are gray foxes plentiful in the woods ad tall grasses, peeking out and darting along.

Yesterday, I managed a 3-mile hike in my boot. (A week before our departure, I injured my foot somehow. I managed to partially tear a tendon. I have a walking boot thing, which is great, and a cane, which I quickly abandoned.) We hiked around Abbott’s Lagoon, out to the tidal pools of the Pacific. There were few other people on the trail. It was so unspoiled that we could see the paths where deer had walked through the brush, and found a place to lie down. We saw rabbits, and many different birds, hawks, jays, pelicans, quail.

We found a sunny beach, and settled to relax and soak up the sun before the fog eclipsed it again. We had a picnic, with perfect eggs, chicken salad, fresh tomatoes and mozzarella…

The fresh food here is amazing. We had artichokes for dinner last night, with delicious olive oil and lemon. We have dined at The Slanted Door in San Francisco, Chez Panisse in Berkeley, and eaten peaches, dripping with juice over the sink in our kitchen. The markets have such gorgeous local delicious things to eat. With all the fresh fruits, vegetables, fish, eggs, local cheeses and breads…it is food heaven.

A few nights ago, on our way back from a day trip to Berkeley, there was a deer standing right in front of us, at the side of the road, just after the comment, “I haven’t seen a single deer crossing sign.” There she was, a beautiful deer, staring right at us. I said, “I haven’t seen any bear crossing signs either.” Somehow, I don’t think it works like that, Lisa, was the quip returned. Well, this place is magic, and maybe it does. The trip isn’t over yet, and I will find my bear. After all, Coit Tower is somewhere out there on a hill in the distance, occasionally peeking through the fog.