A bit TMI

Although not a subject I talk about as much as I could or perhaps even should, my health informs everything I do — or don’t — & all that I am. Of course, everyone’s health impacts them. An extreme physical malady has its obvious effects but is part of a spectrum that encompasses far more than can actually be seen. Good health, in turn, affects its lucky recipients for they have energies & abilities they can’t help but utilize. There are those who don’t take advantage of their potential healthfulness which is admittedly hard to see but even more common is the utter lack of recognition. When one’s health is good, it’s far too easy to take for granted. No-one’s to blame though for there’s little reason to ponder something that’s working properly.

The reason I’m so philosophical about mine is that it’s neither very visible or well-defined. While I readily own the struggles with my health, the real struggle is not being owned by it. “By what exactly?” you may fairly ask. Ahh, but that would be too easy. A name would require a diagnosis process which would require medical care which would require insurance which would ultimately require a far different life than we’ve chosen. My refusal to be defined has proven as far-reaching as most decisions are. The resulting poverty wasn’t by choice, as we’re repeatedly accused, but the choices that might’ve kept us from it didn’t lead to lives we were willing to live. An awareness of the risk accompanied every decision but you’re never knowingly opting to struggle yet more.

My life is a study in which came first; the chicken or the egg &, the thing is, the egg IS the chicken. Does that create a vicious cycle? Hell yes! My health, or lack thereof, limits my options & my remaining options limit my health. It’s at this impasse in such discourse that many a well-intentioned ‘friend’ has pointed out RhodesTer should have picked up the slack. If only I were as self-sufficient as I oft try to be & didn’t need a care-giver; I could also more easily work. Whatever anyone else’s take is & despite my own reticence, I’m a full-time job. Far harder than dealing with my own limitations has been enduring the slings & arrows directed at my care-giving hunny from previously trusted sources. Ever practitioners of considering the source, we’re running out of people to trust.

As living proof that there’s more to every story than meets the eye, I’ve always known there’s more going on than ever immediately evident. I did not always realize what an extension of that reality I personally was. Only now, four decades in, am I beginning to recognize the extent to which we carry in us an imprint of all we may yet become. Just as any scientific theory is questioned because of what has yet to be discovered, even Asthma — much less autoimmune — wasn’t yet understood when I was growing up. What was then ascribed to “growing pains” & stress has proven to be, in my case anyway, chronic pain & migraines. Possibly the Roseola as a child & particularly what was presumed to be Mono during my attempt at college are part of a greater, ongoing issue.

Mubyou-Sokusai

“mu”=none “byou”=illness, disease
“soku”=breath, health “sai”=disaster, bad luck

“Mubyou” means what the kanji mean, to have no illness, & “Sokusai” means to be in exceptionally good health. Bringing these two words together, the idiom means not only to have no illness but to be in a healthy condition.

I’m not claiming to be blameless in the degeneration of my health. Opting to self-medicate throughout junior high & high school rather than consider that the pain prompting it might be indicative of an underlying problem most certainly didn’t help. That independent streak of mine precluded me from being willing to worry anyone even as I slowly but surely concluded such discomfort was not normal. I sobered up, rediscovering all my ills & aches, just in time to lose medical insurance upon turning 18. From the three jobs simultaneously held shortly thereafter to the three years spent at my last job, insurance has been either elusive or impractical. Those of you who can afford neither premiums nor deductibles also know spousal coverage, if offered, is prohibitively costly.

Life is a series of measured risks & we ideally risk only that which we’re willing to lose. The question of what’s being risked at each turn is precisely why so many follow expected paths & seldom seek change. On the one hand, my hunny & I are prime examples of how much can too easily be lost. Yet, we live without regret & have never lost ourselves. Truthfully, every day is a struggle to survive, on all fronts, but hope for a better future renews each time we do. Starting over as many times as we have, we’re seeking sustainable choices this time. Past paths may have provided for immediate needs but what we truly need is a slow, steady build toward real change. We can’t be discouraged by setbacks & must be careful not to compromise what we’ve already accomplished.

My health is a continual journey with small victories along the way & stepping stones made of every discovery. Amidst its ebb & flow, our lives have had to be sorted, for better or worse. Even now, as my body produces ever diminishing returns after so many years, those who’ve followed the fight remain surprised somehow. “Wasn’t the desert supposed to help!?” The reality check is how much worse I’d be if not here. All the assumptions are of being either well or simply not. No different than everything else in life, the shades of gray in between are innumerable. Strides that had finally been made toward the well side have unfortunately been undone but knowing there are some effective weapons is more than half the battle. Once I can use them in combination, I’ll really be fighting!

(|_|*cheers*|_|)
“The power of love to change bodies is legendary, built into folklore, common sense, and everyday experience. Love moves the flesh, it pushes matter around…. Throughout history, “tender loving care” has uniformly been recognized as a valuable element in healing.”
~ Larry Dossey ~

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The body’s misleading. It looks like us, is recognized as us & certainly embodies us. Yet, we’re short-changing ourselves if we overanalyze what we see in the mirror. While we need to make peace with that reflection, no matter how good or bad we perceive it to be, we also need to look beyond it. Not only are we immensely affected by how we see ourselves, it affects how others see us.

As obvious as that statement seems, it’s literally up to us how we’re perceived; even physically. The age-old idea that we’re told of someone’s “good personality” as compensation for any lack in their appearance has a more valid application in that personality can present first. Point in case, I don’t technically have a beautiful smile (thanx to quite the overbite ) but, due to its sheer enthusiasm, it always leaves a positive impression.

Ensuring that our inner beings reach beyond our physicality is two-fold in its necessity. It’s both key to being seen for who we truly are & the means of not letting the physical dictate that truth. Neither the shape of one’s body nor the workings of it should be afforded undue consideration. Just as we must make peace with the totality of its immediate representation of us, we also need to challenge the parts that make up that whole.

By far the most important thing to realize is that our whole is made of far more than our physical realities. From illness to gender, no piece of the puzzle is in itself us or has meaning of its own. A single factoid cannot be afforded singular importance. The fact that I’m physiologically broken shouldn’t break me psychologically & doesn’t make me any more broken than the rest of you. We’re all broken & simply striving to make sense of the pieces.

The idea that we were made in God’s image may seem downright laughable & is certainly often confusing, regardless of one’s take on it. Here’s the thing; it’s not our physical form that emulates Him nor solely our soul.. He/She/the entity scarcely encompassed by but aptly named God is a trinity. So are we: body, mind & soul. Furthermore, the reason we keep striving for democracy is that we are one; our majority rules.

If we unduly focus on one or even two of these three things that together create us, we find ourselves out of balance & essentially unhappy. There is a vote constantly being taken &, due to the brokenness we all share in one form or another, our bodies typically have the odd vote out. It’s up to us to give our minds & souls votes that can be heard; ideally, in a unanimous voice. My body struggles to function so it can’t help but vote me ill yet I don’t have to be defined by that.

It is, however, what will be seen until or unless the other facets of me take the helm. I know, I know; puzzles, caucuses & now ships. Of course, we already know that we are vessels but it’s really just our bodies that are. Thus, if our bodies aren’t indicative of the whole story, we need to bring the truth forward. You should no more believe the lies born of focusing on physical traits as flaws (it’s all comparative, thus relative & subjective, anyhow) than you should settle for the story your body’s telling.

Whether change is needed environmentally or physically, can be aided by breathing or hormones, is one of perception or projection; find the incongruity & - outwardly, inwardly or both - be exactly who you are. Don’t worry about who others think you are or perhaps expect you to be as that’s merely a perception of them & ultimately they’re going to follow your cues. When we’re whole, literally at one with ourselves, it’s our minds & souls that lead the charge.

Using myself as my own best example again; neither my body nor mind work as they should or could. Yet, for all their failings, my soul soars. I’m not sure my body should work well per se though I’m still aiming for basic functionality. Along the same lines, my mind’s limitations are due to damage to my brain rather than my intellect. Just as with our senses, what’s weakened gives way to the strengthening of an equal &/or opposite force.

All that we are is all that we’re seemingly not. Our whole is not only greater than its parts but is part & parcel of what’s unseen. That whom we are meant to be is found beyond the visible & manifests visibly when we are whole.

|_|) “You don’t have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body.” ~ C. S. Lewis

PS: This is lovingly dedicated to my brother as it’s his birthday & he’s an exemplar of evolving wholeness; HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JORDAN!!!

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I have a deep-seated ambivalence toward home. Those who’ve peopled my homes have for the most part been a bit of heaven on Earth which is what I think home essentially is when achieved. Yet, home is also something I strove to survive. My grandparents provided my first home & they continue to be the closest thing to the ideal of home I’ve ever known.

“I have been very happy with my homes, but homes really are no more than the people who live in them.”
~ Nancy Reagan ~

The best thing I can say about my so-called hometown is that it helped create my desire to travel. I will admit, though, that being from a small town kept the limits I was determined to push within the realm of survivability. Being a California girl is a state (HA) of which I’m both proud & thankful as, despite the Central Valley’s failings, it is right between the ocean & mountains.

“Home is where you hang your head.”
~ Groucho Marx ~

Having felt more at home away from many of the houses that served the purpose, it’s not surprising I’ve made a practice of creating home wherever I go. Perhaps growing up in a specific house that serves as home creates more likelihood to equate house & home. What’s particularly sad is when the two get confused; a container’s true value comes from what it holds. House-keeping is not the same as home-making.

“Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.”
~ Matsuo Basho ~

There was a family home that not only proved my escape & salvation but which provided the type of tangible memories I’ve always imagined typical of childhood. Recently discovering it will be sold was difficult in both fact & timing, given the odyssey of homelessness I’ve been on for a year. The loss of what was essentially my childhood home may enhance my appreciation for having a home but does nothing to increase my interest in what form it takes.

“Home is not where you live, but where they understand you.”
~ Christian Morgenstern ~

What has been missing for the past year is a safe haven. No longer having the Camp Nelson home pictured above certainly increases that lack since it was the first haven I knew; it taught me a place can be as nurturing as its people. Sadly, I hadn’t been there for two years & no longer being able to spend time in my home away from home made having my own haven yet more important while it remained nearly impossible.

“Oh! be he king or subject, he’s most blest,
who in his home finds happiness and peace.”
~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, “Iphigenia in Tauris” ~

Not only is it the people that make a house a home but houses & homes alike are extensions of their people. A house that requires more energy than it fosters can never be a nurturing home. The energy of a home is reciprocal. My own limited energy is only in balance with a smaller space to maintain but it also needs to be a space I can make my own. The studio apartment that just became RhodesTer’s & mine through a dark comedy of errors is likely the best fit I’ve ever had.

“I long, as does every human being,
to be at home wherever I find myself.”
~ Maya Angelou ~

Just like with so much else, it truly is the quality of a space not the quantity of space that counts. There are many who believe quantity lends quality & it may justifiably go together for some. Yet, it’s people of the UTMOST quality that seem to have — or is it need? — the least quantity. Jim & René have a space akin to our new one only theirs is mobile. Lisa, her man & her cat are on a similar odyssey to the one we’ve hopefully now ended. Julie & her family are facing the very situation that led to our year-long homelessness.

“One may have a blazing hearth in one’s soul and yet no one ever come to sit by it. Passersby see only a wisp of smoke from the chimney and continue on the way.”
~ Vincent van Gogh ~

Don’t get me wrong; I appreciate a beautiful house. Old homes seem practically alive to me & architecture is a passion since I love artistry in all its forms. The history of that Camp Nelson home lent to its significance, various homes growing up provided irreplaceable spaces within them & the one house ever owned was exactly what I needed at the time. Of course, having a house convinced my hunny & I that we never wanted one again yet we did both enjoy & need that one while we had it. Everyone’s life, in its various seasons, will have & be able to support different ideals. I will forever be grateful I had an opportunity to design a home:

“Home is a name, a word, it is a strong one; stronger than magician ever spoke, or spirit ever answered to, in the strongest conjuration.”
~ Charles Dickens ~

One of my earliest homes was in a stairwell; the adjoining bedroom was almost beside the point. There was the corner which held the kitchen table in Camp Nelson, lost to a remodel three decades ago, that I would’ve gladly camped out in indefinitely & practically did. There’ve even been wee spaces in odd places; a picnic table outside the math building in highschool, a bench not too far from the coffee in the college quad, a creek bed in Camp Nelson, a meadow in the foothills, inside the circle made by the branches of a Weeping Willow & a funky studio in Palm Springs.

(|_|*cheers*|_|)
Home is where you feel at home..

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“The time has come,” the Walrus said.. but let’s leave shoes, ships & such aside for now. For us, it’s time to make the impending move. We do feel a bit like oysters to our friend-turned-landlord’s walrus, especially as he’ll be visiting this strip of sand shortly. Finding our own wee shell is quite the challenge due to failed credit born of wanderlust & other anti-societal choices.

It’s interesting how struggling financially causes some people to assume laziness when in fact we’ve oft had to work harder than the average Joe or Jane. Some of the hardest workers I’ve known are also the poorest. Those of you who’ve made a decision for personal reasons despite the financial ramifications will understand. Our walrus informed me that being poor is a choice; we wouldn’t be poor, edible oysters if only we’d not settled for edibility.

To be fair, since I appreciate both honesty & opinions from all, I considered his claim. Lo & behold, there was a choice that set me on this path. At the age of 18, I abandoned my plan to nanny in New York as a way out of my multi-repressed hometown. I instead made the unthinkable choice to stay in a town I’d already run away from multiple times in order to work with Youth for Christ.

Not only was I offering peer counseling & doing public speaking for free, I ended up with three jobs to support the habit. I had all those jobs when I met RhodesTer & would not have met him if I hadn’t made that choice to be poor three years earlier. Worse yet, as we came to realize we couldn’t imagine life without each other, I lured him down my potentially penniless path by admitting I would rather be poor & happy in lieu of a less than happy alternative.

Here’s the thing: I’d make choice after choice again.. So, while walruses may see me as fodder unless I’m building sandcastles, it’s just a cozy shell I’m after. This friend of ours may have failed miserably to see — much less accept — us for who we are yet was actually well-intentioned. Thus, he’s admittedly not so much the Walrus perhaps as the Carpenter which may explain why he believes no-one could actually want to simplify their lives.

Being in Real Estate, that’s an understandable if limited view. I’d explained to him via e-mail, “We’ve purposely stripped away anything that won’t support a life that is equally sustainable and enjoyable.” He replied, “The only reason you’ve purposely stripped away anything is because you’ve had too not because you’ve wanted too.” However, home-making is a lifestyle & it’s simply not one I’m interested in; maintaining a house is not how I want to expend my energy.

“Purchasing a home is not the act of a pessimist,” said Frank Nothaft, chief economist at Freddie Mac. “But it is the act of a dweeb. Sure, renting costs more over time than owning, but do you want to spend your weekends cleaning out leaf gutters and fixing the garage-door opener, or do you want to be happy? Life is way too short, people. Loosen up.”

Okay, okay, my source is The Onion but the key to satire is its underlying truth. My mum (she’s one of my best friends as well) pointed out that, while I create a home wherever I am, house-keeping is definitely not for me. A person’s belongings & surroundings are an extension of self. This, of course, is why so many literally try to build themselves up materially. Yet, each & every thing we own or keep near us is also an expenditure of energy.

If you’re the type of carpenter that’s more concerned with the lemonade stand than the lemonade, our legitimate desire for simplified living will likely never make sense to you. The most misunderstood aspect of such a choice is that desiring simplicity is not an intention to stay poor. It is instead a determination to spend our money on experiences & those in need rather than our lifestyle.

Our carpenter friend cites “a friend that never made much money. Maybe she’d make $10,000 - $12,000 a year and that was a good year.  She always lived in a small studio apartment with very little and drove a very used car. I’ve been working with her and helping her over the years to do more then she has allowed herself. She use to say the same thing, “I just like to live simple…I don’t need much…blah, blah, blah.” Just last week she told me that although she was serious and believed her statement back then, she really likes the life she now has and she is so thankful for the change. She now owns two rental properties, gets paychecks of $9,000 (as she said, about what she use to get in a year), drives a Mercedes (not that everyone has too or wants too but it’s nice if you do and can), has the freedom to pursue her true passions of acting and ministry, etc., etc., etc. One other thing she said is that she now thinks it was incredibly selfish to think the way she did. By being able to make money she can do more for those around her. By only living for herself on a very small budget is selfish because that doesn’t allow you to do much for those around. I think she has a point. Last week she just called me to say thank you for the change in her life.”

While we are very happy for her & glad his tutelage proved something she wanted, hers is no more a style of life that appeals to us than her carpenter’s is. Both acting & ministry have been significant aspects of our lives as well but RhodesTer is working toward writing multiple roles rather than play one at a time while I continue to share myself with anyone who needs an ear, shoulder or piece of my ever-present silver jewelry. Most recently, I was able to impart myself to my cousin’s teenage daughter with a ring I regularly wore. Most of what I own has been with the understanding that it’s just until I meet its next owner.

Ultimately, we want nothing more than to make the most of whatever lemons come our way & will continue to work hard at juicing (no milking — milk is meant for foam — besides, lemons = juice) every opportunity that arises. Not once have we opted for an easy way out, much less ever doing less, but find that it’s not work per se when it supports what you love & nothing extraneous. We may be small fish, or oysters, in a large pond but are working hard to sort a shell we can call home. As of our once-friend’s impending visit, come hell or high water, we’ll be moving into something & are simply striving at this point to not waste our meager funds on a motel.

(|_|*cheers*|_|)
“To avoid criticism, do nothing, say nothing, be nothing.”
~ Elbert Hubbard ~

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