Growth and Decay

Wild boars in Germany are so radioactive, many of them can't be eaten. Flowers are growing in the radioactive soil around Chernobyl. Flax plants and soybean plants seem undaunted by the Chernobylian radioactive soil. These animals and plants have been altered by the radioactivity, but they are thriving in spite of what can unquestioningly be one of the inhospitable environments ever.

I can't ignore these bizarre facts that strangely give me hope.

I can also not ignore that I live in a radioactive world. Uranium is a NATURAL element. We are bathed in radiation every day from the sun. And, yes, we are exposed to unnatural and seemingly unhealthy levels of radioactivity every day from these horrendous accidents with nuclear plants gone awry. Radiation causes cancer, yet radiation is also used to treat  cancer. My friend Gayle jokingly reminds us that we should feel grateful for the free dose of anti-cancer treatment provided by the Japanese reactors gone wild. I don't know if it works that way, but recents events have definitely forced me to consider living in a radioactive world.

Actually, I have been forced to consider this because the Grand Canyon has large deposits of Uranium. I didn't know that when I moved here, but it's true. Uranium was once mined here, and there are lots of reminants of this part of the canyon's history. In fact, there remains current debate about a renewing of uranium mining here at the canyon. The Colorado River is actually fed by radioactive water (because of the percolation that occurs through the layers of the sedementary rock). These are not the facts readily advertised when water is being siphoned off by draught afflicted regions, or when travel brochures are published, but they are the facts of grand canyon life.

Given my personal history with radioactivity, how did I end up moving into such a radioactive place on earth? And what do I do with the fact that no matter where I move, I can not escape the invasive nature of radioactivity?

The boars and the flowers and the plants give me hope because they might just provide the Darwinian solution. If we are unable to change the radioactive environment in which we live, then we must mutate in a manner that allows us to thrive in spite of  this reality of life on planet Earth. What if we can learn from the boars and the flowers and the soybean and the flax plants in such a way that helps us to thrive  as a species in spite of the radiation? Is it actually possible?

One of the facts of biology that has continued to give my mind food for thought is this simple fact of nature: cells divide. And every single time a cell divides there is the potential for mutation. . . .every single time! But what if some mutations bring about a positive change? Why is it that all mutations must automatically be bad? And, most importantly, given the connection between mind and body, what if we can control these mutations through conscious intent? What if it's actually possible?!

I am not suggesting that what is happening to our world is a silver lining to a dark cloud that plagues our existence, or that we should continue to delude ourselves into thinking that we can control nuclear energy. But if I am to find peace with my existence upon this radioactive planet given that I have absolutely no control over the radioactive presence, then I have got to find a path that provides at least the possibility  for a positive outcome even with the stupidity of the human race, because organisms that survived across time did not always do so by living in love and sunshine environments. So perhaps there needs to be an awakening of consciousness to allow for this positive change possible on the other side of this global radioactive decay.

The Color Orange

Thinking of Jill this morning, one of my art professors from the UCR undergrad days as an emerging artist myself. Remembering the story about the artist (either Van Gogh or Picasso) who had been working on a painting for an eternity, but was unable to complete it. There was this one spot of orange in the center of the painting that mesmerized him. . . it was pure divine transcendent beauty. . . .a spiritual portal that gripped his mind and spirit. But the more he tried to work the rest of the painting around this amazing spot of orange, the more blocked he became, and the more impossible the painting's completion grew. Then one day, out of sheer exasperation, he picked up his paint spatula and scraped away that troublesome splotch of orange.

Block gone. . .  .masterpiece completed.

My orange spot has been the single status, that all elusive portal to divine solitude here at the canyon. I held on way too long. . . .waaaaay too long. . . .fighting for the right to personal space. I got lost in the middle of that fight, feeling like the only other option was to move on, even if that meant moving on from the rest of everything I love about my life here.

It hurts. . . that scrape across our spirit. . . .it hurts deep and relentless to finally let go of something that feels impossible to live without. But perspective does change. . . .once the block is removed.

Now that my unyielding grip has been released, and my life has once again begun to paint love and sunshine back into the landscape, I am hopeful that I will be able to complete my own personal masterpiece :) One can hope. . . .one can most certainly hope.

Lessons Learned from Donkey Kong

I wasn't a big Donkey Kong fan, but I do remember how sometimes Mario had to climb down a layer or two in order to climb up to where he was supposed to be. Life can be like that sometimes.

I think I'll take a cue from Mario. . . .kick down a notch or two and take advantage of what this new opportunity has to offer me. . . .so that I can climb back up to where I really want to be when I'm better prepared to do so. Loss of status isn't the worst thing that will ever happen to me. And who knows. . . .it just might turn out to be the best thing ever! You never really know why obstacles are put into your path (until you get to the other side, of course).

So, I'm going to focus on the good things about this change, and let the rest be what it was. . . . a life lesson worthy of my best effort. . . even if it still kicked my donkey kong ass. . . .

Double-Headed Llama

Another dream last night about overcoming my fear. I had a dream once about being terrified of crossing a bridge because the sharks were swimming beneath me, but when I finally made it to the other side I could see that the sharks were part of an amusement park, hence weren't even real. . . .lol. Last night's dream was sort of like that too. . . .fear of falling off of the edge of what was actually a man made model of a room sized version of the Grand Canyon. The difference is that in last night's dream I was actually aware that the mini canyon was only a man-made model, but was afraid anyway because of the illusion of grandness.

There are two things generating fear for me. One is the fear of a potential impending death by cancer, and the second is of making this move to North Carolina and not being able to find a teaching job because they will no longer exist by the time I arrive. Interestingly, as I write these two fears I see why I feel so stressed and anxious, as they are double headed llama fears, only these fears aren't pulling, they are pushing me in opposite directions. If I consider staying at the canyon, the first fear kicks in and makes me feel anxious about staying here when I should be carpeing the hell right out of the diem. But if I were to start packing for the move, the second fear kicks me in the gut and forces me to back down into the safe corner of my warm little home. I'm damned by fear if I do and don't.

The first fear is easy enough to overcome, thanks to my friend Patty's great wisdom. She told me that my situation is not unique to my cancer, that any one of us could die tomorrow by any number of accidents or what have you. She's right. I may be more aware of that potential, but she's right. If we all lived and made life decisions based on the fear that we should eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we may die, then we would all stay in bed balled up inside of that fear! It takes great courage to get up and face any day, for any one of us.

The second fear is not so easy to tame, as our lovely fear-mongering media seems to be doing their job all too well. But what is the worst thing that can happen if I were to pack everything up, spend the summer up in Nova Scotia, then head down the coast and just find a way to make it all work? What if the fear is nothing more than illusion? What if everything works out just fine? What if I'm supposed to go swimming with the dolphins and trust that I will land just fine on that wild and distant shore?

One of my spirit heroes is a Jewish woman who lived in Germany during the Nazi regime. I once read how she refused to let fear over take her life, so she protested fear's oppressive rule over her spirit and mind by refusing to lock her front door and sitting on her front steps in full view of the Nazi soldiers driving by in their military vehicles in search of Jewish people to collect up for their holocaustic schemes. I love this woman. She makes me want to sit at the edge of the canyon and laugh in the face of my own tiny little fears. She is the best me I could ever possibly want to be.

Fear is exactly how we are controlled by whatever dark forces there are in the world. Our fears build cages of artificial boundaries around our hopes and dreams. . . .until one day we wake up with no more diem's to carpe and nothing to show for a life lived in fear but the empty promises whispered up from within our very own hearts.

Flying by the seat of my pants

Am I coming or going? Aye, there's the rub.

Self awareness is an amazing thing. . . .but being aware of one's process doesn't mean that it's ever able to be changed :) Or, honestly, that I ever want to change it. But I have learned two things about myself over the years: (1) I won't move until I feel ready to do so, and (2) once I'm ready to move, I need to do it right away, or else the plan will change a thousand times :)

I love the analogy of how an air plane gets from point A to point B. During a flight, it is almost NEVER on course! The winds and other factors sway the plane from one direction to another in a sort of zigzag pattern, but the plane (or pilot) makes constant corrections to the direction, so that in the end the plane arrives pretty much on time and in the right place. . . .

One of my friends once told me that she stopped writing my address in pen. I get it. . . .I can make changes to my life direction easily and quickly (too quickly for some people's personal preference). But imagine if we never made corrections to the direction of our journey. What if we remained moving in the same direction even if there were clear signs that something in our life begged for change?

The funny thing is that I don't really do change well. . . .change makes me anxious. . . .but when I am anxious for too long it is often only change that will calm me down. It is this crazy paradox of my personal process that gives me momemtum to constantly reinvent who I want to be. I can do that. . . .as there is no one other than God to whom I need to justify the way I live my life (no kids--no husband--no sick/elderly parents to care for).

So where am I right now? Passport is in process. . . .I continue to study for this killer math test. . . .I am preparing car and trailer for the summer vacation up in Nova Scotia. . . .and I am waiting to see how this crazy economy turns itself over the course of the next year. Still focused on North Carolina as my next step destination. . . I just don't want to end up jobless and homeless in Chapel Hill.

So all I can really say is that it's a good thing that I enjoy flying solo :)

Swimming with the Dolphins

Last night I had a dream about dolphins. There is a platform building way out in the middle of the ocean, and I work my way down through the different floors of the building. When I reach the bottom floor, there is a large opening, sort of like an indoor swimming pool. The dolphins swim up to the surface so that I can pet them and rub their bellies. A man tells me that this is the first time he has seen the dolphins swim up to where the people are. One of the dolphins has red hair like a clown...lol...you gotta love dreams :) There is also a large cage out in the ocean, just outside of the building. I am swimming with the dolphins in this caged off area; I actually want to be swimming out in the ocean on the outside of the cage, but I am afraid of the sharks. I try to swim in the ocean, but I am too aware of the depth and the threat of sharks. . . .and this is when I awaken. . . .

We all have a need to feel safe and protected. I don't have that. . . .anywhere. Sometimes it seems like working here where everything is sort of a package deal feels like it keeps me safe, but it doesn't. I could lose my job on any given day, and everything would be pulled out from underneath me, not just my income. I think it's more stressful to work here because of that fact, than to work outside of the park where you may lose your job, but you still have your home.

However, I don't think that's what the cage represents.

There is a factor creeping in to my world that I don't know what to do with. . . .the ever growing gloom of our national economy. Looking into this potential move to North Carolina is frightening, but not for the superficial reasons. I have never before worried about picking up and moving anywhere because I've always trusted that a job will be found and a new home will be created. But, then again, the economy has not ever been what it is now. . . .not in my lifetime, anyway.

Dolphins have always manifested in my dreams as awakeners of courage to "swim with the dolphins," to trust and have faith that the ocean currents will deliver me safely upon some wild and distant shore. But how do I make a move to become a teacher when teachers in almost every state are being laid off? It's no longer about trusting that I will find an open job, but of having faith that jobs will be open at all. How do I find hope and courage in the face of this kind of uncertainty?

Yes...I absolutely feel caged and afraid of what's on the other side of this country's inability to protect and defend against this ever present and deepening darkness. . . .