So Long and Now This

After taking my new found writing passion to workshops and dark of night writing sessions, I am back.

4 years and 2 months later. 1 published essay and lots that have not seen the break of day. 50 poems. Some good work. Retainers. Heartbreaks. A recession. A resurection.

Now speed. I am living fast. Really fast.

Am I living well? Well, sometimes. More on that later.

First let's get caught up...

2009-2010 projects
beckercompany.com
pbwc.org
womenpresidentsorg.com
crawfordgroup.com
vidacard.com
latinofamilymedia.com
ocsc.com

Interests
Family
heartlandcircle.com
east bay united gals (ebug)
ellenbass.com
esalen.org

Making a Difference by Mary Margaret Sinnema

My dear friend Mary Margaret is the Director of Children's Ministry at Piedmont Community Church. She writes frequently on issues of faith, family and community. I am thrilled that she has granted me permission to re-print the following article that was originally printed in the PCC Messenger on January 14, 2006.

I hope Ms Edleman does not mind the free promotion of her book, but I thought I would risk it to share MM's perspective on a powerful path to finding more meaning in our lives.

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We didn’t make it to the 9 p.m. can­dlelight service on Christmas Eve as we had planned. Instead, at that hour we sat down to our Christmas dinner after having returned from the Berkeley Men’s Shelter.

At the shelter, we had set a fes­tive table, took menu orders and served a holiday feast to 47 cheerful and weary men who are used to lining up to help themselves to supper in their temporary “home.” The ministry leaders from our church made it possible for the group of families who volunteered that night to make a difference for these men on Christmas. Some children sang them Christ­mas carols, most sat and talked and laughed and ate with them at the tables. One gentleman’s response was to make wire jewelry for the girls, while the rest of the kids circled around to watch. The evening was a warm, comfortable and natural exchange.

This past year, I began to gain a deeper understand­ing of serving. One important concept that I’ve learned is called Service Learning. It’s about a shift away from com­munity service in which the service is an obligation of the haves to give to the have-nots, to a way of understanding the reasons for the need in the community, and learning ways to help heal the problem. These healing acts develop compassion and respect for those served, and give meaning to the service in a social, political and economic context. This “Reciprocal learning” results in learning about the lives of those served and also about oneself.

Recently, I found the inspiring book I Can Make A Dif­ference by Marion Wright Edelman. In it, she asks, “What kind of people do we want to be? What kind of people do we want our children to be? What kind of moral examples can we be to make our children strong inside and empow­ered to seek and help build a more just, compassionate and less violent world?”

She states that “Jesus taught us ‘Man can not live by bread alone’ but His message is in danger of being lost as so many of our children of privilege and poverty chase mate­rial idols that fade, and stuff themselves with the cultural junk foods of violence, drugs and material things that fail to fill the deeper hunger for community and purpose all hu­mans share.” So we “must lift a strong counter voice to the corrupting messages of our culture and teach our children that they can make a difference.”

The messages are illus­trated in sections:

I can make a difference in the world by:
• Loving myself
• Treating others respectfully and fairly
• Being courageous
• Aiming high and holding on to my ideals
• Caring and serving
• Being honest and telling the truth
• Persevering and not giving up
• Being determined and resourceful
• Being grateful for the gift and wonders of life
• Working together with others
• Being compassionate and kind
• Being non-violent and working for peace

These are lifelong ideals to model. So let us all seek those opportunities to serve and learn with our families and friends new and old. You may miss candlelight services and such, but you’ll be making a difference.

Gone On

One day last fall, I realized why a recent friend's breast cancer had been moving me so. I wrote this poem about my mom, me and the cancer that still connects us. It's not so pretty or happy, but it is real and it is from my heart.

GONE ON

Mirror mirror on the wall
My, that is an ugly scar
From top to bottom and side to side
Well, at least it’s gone
And for awhile, life goes on

The mother’s cave
Is her wound too.
Why is survival such a crime?
Oh, how to wish the whole thing gone
And for awhile, life goes on

Daily breathing in the brine
It can come back, you know
Just decides to stop back by
A guest that really won’t be gone
And for awhile, life goes on

Uneven rhythms jolt
The life and make the nights
So deep and long
The thoughts keep coming, never gone
And for awhile, life goes on

Vile, they take away more of the light
For man and child too
That loss makes the call go on
Live now, fast, it can be gone
And for awhile, life goes on

Is that her lump of fear in me?
Did it jump the end and spread?
It is the cell of uncertainty
Oh say that it’s not here, but gone
And for awhile, life goes on

This taste of life’s bite
Drives thoughts to wander -
living a life beyond her brink
Of leaving more than this when gone
And for awhile, life goes on

What will happen if it dies?
If this open flame goes dark
she is not daily here, yet is
Funny, to need her here and gone
And for awhile, life goes on

Live Now, Fast...

Hold fast to every opportunity to make life full and real. Don't wait. Live Now, Fast.

Last fall, I felt like I came out of a five-year, child-making, career-transitioning dream. I had been busily doing all the things successful suburban women can aspire to do - being a new mom twice, a corporate career-woman, an entrepreneur, a home-owner, a loving wife and daughter, pleasant neighbor, new friend and community volunteer. "Busy" meant cancelling beloved newspaper subscriptions that I no longer had time to read, wishing for time to spend with girlfriends and family members that were too far away to just drop in, de-prioritizing exercise and meditation that just took too long and working 12-15 hours days to show that I was "committed" to and "capable" of supporting my family . Life, reduced to survival.

What woke me up was the realization that twenty years after loosing my mother to breast cancer, I was starting to loose friends and family to the same disease. This time the loss was not in the form of death. Happily no one has died, but I realized that some relationships that I thought were strong, were not. In these cases, the loss came from women pulling away from me and others - creating interpersonal distance along with creating the space they needed to deal with the disease that humbled them and their families. For them, on a rational level, it is totally understandable. For me, on an emotional level, any space felt a little too big and too familiar - and too much like the beginning of the inevitable end.

Cancer seems to be one of the diseases that, while it critically affects those who have it in their bodies, also profoundly affects those who are in the circle of the disease - family, co-workers, friends, neighbors. Without getting into a dialog on who suffers more, everyone can agree that there are really no big winners in the battle with cancer, only small moments that illuminate how precious life is.

One of those crystal clear moments came for me after hearing one of these women relate their cancer story. As I fought back the tears, I realized that I was not fully healed from losing my mother years ago. I knew that I had to reconcile my feelings of abandonment and lost potential. I also knew that I needed to make the most of this wake-up call to create something better with my life.

And I needed to move fast. "Now" became my mantra.

I wanted to plum the depths of my experiences and emotions and start living more on purpose. I realized that I never wanted to reach 45 or 60 or 90 and say, "Woulda, Coulda, Shoulda" and I specifically felt I owed it to my children, and to the memory of my mother, to make my time in this life really stand for something. For this I was going to have to face some big issues in my life and it would take courage, perseverance and a single-minded determination to make this happen.

Welcome to my journey. Join me for awhile...