Wilderness Quest 2011 - Part 8

After the life review where I visited each five-year segment of my life, things just started to flow out of me.  I could blame the strange yet beautiful events that occurred on my lack of caloric intake, or maybe on the desert heat - things had heated up since our arrival.  Maybe my actions were caused by a lack of interaction with my own species.  Most likely, it was all due to my willingness to let happen what needed to happen.

So, with no warning, a series of events regarding my grief about my dad unfolded. 

First, this eulogy/obit came out on paper:

John __, my dad, was raised as one of seven boys by Robert ____, a poor farmer, and Mary ____, a schoolteacher.  He and his family lived through the depression and dust bowl years in Kansas, Oklahoma and Arkansas. The story I heard was that Robert, my grandfather, was constantly looking for greener grass at time when there was no such thing, thus the constant uprooting and poverty.

Dad joined the navy in World War II and was a radio technician on the submarine, Cero.  He traveled the South Pacific - New Guinea and Australia.

After the war, Dad met Cleo ___.  They married and started a television/radio sales and service shop in a Kansas town of about 40,000 people.

Four years after their marriage, their darling daughter was born.  :-)  Two years later, they were blessed with a son. 

Dad worked long, hard hours at the shop.  Mom helped with the office work, and my brother and I spent a good amount of our days at there watching television or entertaining ourselves in other ways, most of which didn't cause too much damage. 

In 1968, our family moved to Colorado.  When we first arrived, Dad went door to door to motels and hotels to see if they needed a television repairperson.  From that initial investment, he drummed up a nice-sized clientele. 

Our family took two unforgettable vacations while I was growing up.  In the mid-sixties we drove to New York, Canada, D.C., and Nantucket.  Later, in the early seventies, we drove west to the San Francisco area.  In addition to those great adventures, we also traveled to Colorado a few times, staying at my great-aunt's mountain cabin.

Dad was a good man.  Kind.  Patient.  I was not an easy child for him much of the time and I don't think that I ever thanked him for working so hard so that I could have all that I needed.  I don't think I thanked him for those vacations or for the times he worried about me.  I hope I made up for it somewhat by growing up into a good person and raising two great kids.  I hope I took on his kindness and patience as a base to grow from.

Thank you, Dad, for all you did for me. Thank you for the numerous things you fixed for me, for calming me when I worried.  I will miss you.  And remember the line you told me so many times when I would get worked up about something - a line you attributed to some man in the navy with you:  "It don't make no difference no how."

Dad, you made a difference.
 

My dad and mom, photo taken September 26, 2008

Previous Wilderness Quest Posts:   1  2  3  4  5  6  7

My Father's Prayer

I have read that cats can sleep as much as 20 hours a day.  At this point of my dad's life, he does that, too. 

When Mr. CFP and I arrived at the nursing home today, Dad had just awakened from a nap.  As I wheeled him out of his room, he repeated over and over, to no one in particular, "Thank you.  Thank you."  I don't know what he was being thankful for, and I don't know who he was thanking. 

But it was beautiful and it brought to mind this quote:

If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough. - Meister Eckhart

Dad was awake for about an hour before he slipped back into the quiet place where he spends most of his time.

My dad... still teaching me.  Thank you.  Thank you.

Wilderness Quest 2011 - Part 7

The desert began working its magic.  No, that's wrong.  The desert magic is always working.  I was finally able to be aware of the magic taking place within me and around me.

Before we went our separate ways for our solo time, and as we were learning about different rituals which could help to deepen our quest experience, one fellow quester shared a ritual that he thought was useful.  The idea resonated with me, and that was one of the first things I did on my second day of solo time.

A wash (kind of like a dry creek bed) bordered my solo area.  In the wash, I placed a stick every five feet until I had enough five-foot-long sections to represent each of the five years of my life (let's see now, if I'm getting close to 100 years old, I need almost 20 sticks...)   ;-)

I sat next to the area that represented the first five years of my life, and I visited with it, remembering stories I had heard about my birth.  (I was born with black hair and since there is no black hair in our family, my mom thought she was given the wrong baby.  It took a few months before I became a blondie.)  As I sat on the dirt in the wash, I conversed with my parents about what it was like to have their first child, about my dad's work, and about the appearance of my baby brother who cried incessantly, due to colic or something painful with his stomach.

After I felt complete with that era of my life, I moved on to ages five through ten.  On and on I went, listening to the stories of my life, trying to connect with my experiences and the experiences my parents were having at the time.

And when I was done, I realized just how self-absorbed I had been for much of my life.  I knew very little about what my parents were doing, feeling, and thinking through many of my years.  That was profound for me, and I knew that not only could I not go back and do things differently, but with my dad's dementia now, I wouldn't be able to ask him about his life.

The realization wasn't a catalyst for beating myself up, but a piece of the mosaic of my life.

I sat with that a while, then gratitude for my parents and for all that they did for me rolled out of me like the waters that flood the washes in spring.

A little while later, I wrote a eulogy for my dad.



Previous Wilderness Quest Posts:   1  2  3  4  5  6

The Aftermath

If you live in the U.S., I hope that you had a magical Thanksgiving holiday today.  And if you don't live in the U.S., I hope your day was magical, too.  Each moment of every day is so full of life, beauty and vibrancy, I can't figure out why we need a special day to remember gratitude, but I guess it always helps to have a little boost. 

Thanksgiving dinner was here at the PeaceCarol house today.  Master Chef Carol, along with her trusty assistant, Mr. CFP, whipped up the huge spread.  Family came by, and we ate together.

Cooking and pre-dinner cleaning time:  10 hours.
Narshing it down time:  about an hour.
Post-dinner cleaning:  still in process.

After making three kinds of potatoes - mashed, steamed, and sweet... After making three desserts...  After making what smelled like scrumptious stuffing, of whose flavors I could not partake...  My Thanksgiving resolution (why wait until New Year's?) is:

From now on, when Chef Carol makes the Thanksgiving meal, she's not going to try to satisfy the world.  If she can't taste test it, it won't be made.  That means all dishes will be dairy-free, sugar-free, and gluten-free.  Trust me, no one will miss those things.  I've got gluten-free/sugar-free/dairy-free down!

Whew!  What a relief!  Glad we got that out in the open!

Even though I miss my Buddha dog, profoundly noticing his absence when it was table scrap sharing time, I am getting some kitty-lovin' in while house-sitting a HUGE,white Main Coon kitty who sports the polydactylism that is common of the breed.

And, because of a lack of doggage in our yard, foxes are no longer avoiding us.  Today I looked out to see one napping in our backyard.  So darn cute!

I am thankful for CRITTERS!

Wilderness Quest 2011 - Part 6

Just as I was dozing off for the night, I heard it.  

The sound was distinct and I instantly recognized it.  I don't know why I recognized it - I can't name a time when I had heard that sound before.  But I had no doubt about what it was.

I quickly turned on my headlamp and rolled over to look.

He was gone.  It was as though he vaporized.

But I had evidence.

Like a madwoman, I hid the aim of his desire.  I threw it into my day pack, and then threw that into my backpack.  He would have to be pretty darn motivated to work that hard!

After I had made my statement, "Don't mess with my stuff!" I waited, barely breathing, headlamp at the ready.  Would he come back?  I wanted to see the little varmint.

Thoughts came:  What was I thinking - or not thinking - when I left that container here on the ground next to me?  I could just throw its contents out into the night somewhere and let the little fella have at them.  The container only held an apple core and small remnants sweet potato. 

But visions of hordes of hungry mice-like 4-leggeds greedily converging so close to my space in order to feast nixed that idea.

It wasn't long before sleep overcame me.  I guess that I am no match for scorpions or tiny-toothed creatures.

We had always carefully stowed away all food at base camp so that no critters would get to the food, but having never seen any moochers in all my times in the desert, I never believed they really existed. 

Then I saw his toothmarks.  Now I'm a believer.  Yeah yeah yeah yeah...




Previous Wilderness Quest Posts:   1  2  3  4  5

Today

I stood with my sign - one of my favorites -

"Imagine Peace on Earth"

A man walks by.

"We'll have it when the military kills people like Gaddafi." 

Okay.

Back to homeostasis...

A few minutes later,

Still standing with my sign - still one of my favorites -

"Imagine Peace on Earth"

A man walks up to me, stands in front of me and my sign.

"Imagine peace on earth.  I have been dreaming of it ever since I served in Vietnam."

We Women in Black stay in silence when we stand,

So as the man seated himself on the bus bench,

I walked over to him, touched my heart, and bowed to him.

And cried on my way back to my place in the vigil.

In love With Solid Ground

This poem seemed to fit nicely alongside my wilderness quest posts.

 

The Opening of Eyes

That day I saw beneath dark clouds
the passing light over the water
and I heard the voice of the world speak out,
I knew then, as I had before
life is no passing memory of what has been
nor the remaining pages in a great book
waiting to be read. It is the opening of eyes long closed.
It is the vision of far off things
seen for the silence they hold.
It is the heart after years
of secret conversing
speaking out loud in the clear air.
It is Moses in the desert
fallen to his knees before the lit bush.
It is the man throwing away his shoes
as if to enter heaven
and finding himself astonished,
opened at last,
fallen in love with solid ground.
  -- David Whyte
      from Songs for Coming Home
 

Midwifing My Dad

Yesterday, the voice said, "Carol, go sit with your dad tomorrow.  Go before your mom gets there."

I listened and this morning, I went.  I sat and breathed with Dad.  He was resting, but his breath was labored.  We breathed together: 

Opening, letting go of attachments - to this body and to identification.  Letting go of the identification of being a dad, a husband, someone who "does". 

Bringing in open-ness, light, freedom

Opening, letting go of all attachments, all pain

Bringing in peace and ease, going to be with mother and father and brothers who have gone before.

Over time, his breath softened, became easier.  Sometimes I could barely tell he was breathing. 

And as I breathed with my dad, midwifing him into his next step, I realized that it was not just him opening to letting go of attachments and bringing in light, peace & ease, it was DadCarolEverything.  There was only this one beautiful moment of peace and alrightness.  No one healthy and helping, no one sick and in death's labor.  Just one thing. 

Some people call that one thing Love.  It can also be called Wonder.  Awe. 

Wilderness Quest 2011 - Part 5

It is highly recommended that questers fast during their 84 hours of solo time.  Only water is taken.  There sure are a lot of hours in a day when you're alone and you can't even distract yourself with the preparation, eating, and cleaning up that meals require!

I fasted during my previous two quests, but before I left for Utah this time, a couple of different health practitioners had recommended that I not fast, suggesting that I take along some snacks for sustenance during my solo time.  That seemed right.  I didn't have any extra energy or weight to be giving up.  And the advice turned out to be very prescient, since unbeknownst to anyone at that time, just one month later, I would be fasting for six days while recovering from gut surgery.

Ahhhh... life is such a trip!

My first day in my temporary home included housekeeping chores - setting up my tarp, creating an outhouse (you'll just have to wonder...), and setting up a prayer circle.  As I usually do, I made a circle with different colored rocks that I found.  Each rock represented either another quester or someone from back home who I wanted to remember.  Every morning and every evening, I talked to each rock (the desert sun will do that to ya) and wished all good things for the person represented by that particular stone.  I sent supportive energy to each quester, seeing him or her actualizing the word that he/she expressed before we headed our separate ways.

Even though I was alone, I always felt a connection with the other questers - knowing they were out there alone like me.  I truly felt no separation with all of life.  Things are quite simple while sitting alone in the desert and the interconnection is very apparent.

Besides setting up the Barrow Homestead, I unexpectedly napped in the strangest position, draped over my rolled-up sleeping bag.  And I took stock of the flower garden that surrounded my home.

If you walked through my homestead as a means of getting somewhere else, you might not have noticed that almost every step would land you on the tiniest, most delicate flowers of yellow, white, pink or purple.  At first look, it appeared that all was sand, except for a few pieces of greenery.  But I sat A LOT and the more I sat, the more teeny tiny flowers I saw, all snuggled down close to the red dirt.  I could never have created such an immense and varied flower garden myself, but here I was, living in abundant, colorful finery.




Previous Wilderness Quest Posts:   1  2  3  4

Wilderness Quest 2011 - Part 4

Awareness.

That is the word that I wanted to embody during my solo time in the desert.  I wanted to be completely present to everything.  In the moment.  Alive. One with the land and my feelings and my body's messages and, well, everything.

That's a big order!  But I knew no reason to limit the possibilities.

Before leaving for our solo time, we stood around the circle of rocks you see below, and we each said our word, giving voice to our intention.  Then, one by one, we walked into the middle of the circle and received blessings from the guides.  

May this woman be safe.  May she recognize that she is one with all life. I wish I could have had a recording of all the sweet words that the guides said to me, words that gave me the strength and courage to carry me through the next three days.


But I guess the words don't matter.  They did their job. 


As I walked out of the circle, heading out to the place I had selected for my solo, I felt very alone, but I also had a sense of exhilaration.  The sandstone and junipers seemed very alive, radiant, and welcoming.  I was going home.


Previous Wilderness Quest Posts:   1  2  3