A Spartan Thanks

Yesterday, I ran The Spartan Sprint. This is not the place to go into what it is, or why I ran it. No, this is a letter to a single woman whom I encountered.

Dear Spartan,
You may not remember me. I am quite sure that I did not factor into your race the way you factored into mine. I was the woman sitting crumpled in the mud at the foot of the last obstacle, crying quietly. You asked if I was ok. I lamely replied, "I'm just tired." It was an excuse befitting a 3-year old child, and I apologize for it. I was not entirely in a clear-thinking place. Had I had more wits about me, I would have said this:

"I'm so goddamn tired... tired of not showing up to my life. Tired of having lofty dreams and goals that I'm too lazy or terrified to pursue with the vigor they need. I'm tired of failing. I did not train for this the way I should have, and yet through some grit and determination, I've made it this far...to the last obstacle. But I'm not sure I can climb this wall. And I'll be dammned if I'll quit within site of that finish line. Each time I rally the physical strength to attempt it, and fail, sliding back down to this muddied grass, I waste precious energy. And I'm not sure where that energy is coming from, or just how much more I have. I'm overwhelmed by the frustration, ashamed that I'm sitting here, and just before you arrived I took a particularly spectacular face and chest plant on the wood that knocked the wind out of me, so I'm in a fair amount of physical pain as well. But all that is nothing compared to the screaming voice in my head that is telling me over and over that I shouldn't have even tried becuase I ALWAYS FAIL. That voice is so loud that I fear you can hear it, even over this cheering crowd."

So thank you Spartan, for being one person out of hundreds who stopped to ask if I was ok. Thank you for taking time out of your experience to check on me. Please excuse me that moment of human fear & frailty. Know that after you left, I took a breath, regrouped and climbed that wall a 3rd and final time, and finished my first Spartan race. I hope your race was an amazing experience. I hope you had fun, but also that you found within yourself a place of power, of strength. I hope you surprised yourself with all you could achieve. I know I did.

Why I love the Internet

There is so much drama, so much strife perceived in every day life. Each day an economic struggle. Every argument an insurmountable disagreement after which nothing will ever be the same. And like a whirlpool, all this flows over my head with overwhelming force, and I struggle and drown and get sucked down into the very heart of the maelstrom.

Winston Churchill spoke of his depression as a large black dog that haunted him, growling and stalking and keeping those he loved at bay. If Mr. Churchill was right, and my maelstrom image fits too, then it might be best to say that for the last week or so, I find myself at the bottom of a roaring ocean, flailing and drowning, with only a large black dog to hold on to... and he bites.

Then a Sunday afternoon comes along which has some spare time and a bright sun peeping past the clouds. The blue sky seems unreal in its electric vivacious coloring, and it glistens behind the Griffith Observatory in a shot any cinematographer would glory to claim for his own. I see all this, but only in passing, temporarily blinded by all the ocean water and dog hair in my eyes. I return to my apartment and do some homework, and access the web, to check accounts, and perhaps peek at a few blogs (a pastime I rarely get to indulge anymore.) And a without realizing it, a life preserver falls neatly draped around my shoulders as I read the words of my tribe.

It doesn't take much to find people who mourn their losses, who sink into despairs. You can find someone bitching in front of you in line at the grocery store.... but until the vast Internet and blogs became a part of my life, I often believed myself alone in trying to persevere. But you... wonderful people you... so many of you speak of hope and joy and invigoration. You have weathered hardships, and have tremendous moments of great doubt, but you keep stepping forward, and I really do love you for it.

It is so easy and so popular to become resigned. Those that try to move past it are often called blind, ignorant, naive. They are mocked by those who secretly covet their indomitable spirit. And that mockery, if well-timed, can suck the wind out of renewed sails and drown barely afloat hopes. (good lord my metaphors are all over the place today... and I'm rambling.) My point is that I have a hard time keeping going. I get lost. I get overwhelmed. Sometimes I tell myself to go on. Sometimes I hope for more, then feel foolish for doing so. But the Internet has shown me that I'm not alone in these courageous charges of perseverance. If anything, I have seen that not only are there many out there who trudge ever forward... but MANY who seem to do it better than I. Who have ideas I haven't tried and wells of energy I haven't tapped into. They comfort me and inspire me and after 30 minutes or so of reading, I find myself possessed by the need to be outside, smelling the air, fascinated by blue sky and overjoyed at the feel of the breeze. I see the beauty in dandelions that grow between cracks in the sidewalk, and I'm blown away by the sound of bird wings as a flock of pigeons take flight.

Thank you Internet. Thank you heart-filled bloggers who express hopes and fears so honestly. Thank you, my dear tribe, for hopeful words, beautiful pictures and communities full of courageous passions. You open me to inspiration.

Banditos For Peace

Today, I'm working a half day (joy!), after which I will drag myself over to the Westside to get my hairs did (more joy!) Post salon, I will drive down for a 2 hours session of Kundalini Yoga at the studio.

However my Saturday will not be nearly as lush.... as Tag and I will be participating in the "DisplaceMe" event sponsered by Invisible Children. IC is a grassroots organization, who with their film (of the same name) brought to light the plight of Ungandan children (known as "night commuters") who flee their villages at night in order to avoid being pressed into service as a soldier in the Lord's Resistance Army.

13 different cities across the US and over 61,000 people are participating in the Displacement (6,248 in Los Angeles alone).

Wanna spend your Saturday night making new friends, creating a community of people who care? Then please, come join us!

Loving the Fool

Per Rob Brezney:

Declare amnesty for the part of you that you don't love very well. Forgive that poor sucker. Hold its hand and take it out to dinner and a movie. Tactfully offer it a chance to make amends for the dumb things it has done.

And then do a dramatic reading of this proclamation by the playwright Theodore Rubin:
"I must learn to love the fool in me—the one who feels too much, talks too much, takes too many chances, wins sometimes and loses often, lacks self-control, loves and hates, hurts and gets hurt, promises and breaks promises, laughs and cries. It alone protects me against that utterly self-controlled, masterful tyrant whom I also harbor and who would rob me of human aliveness, humility, and dignity but for my fool."

Dangerous Trail Hiking

May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds.
- Edward Abbey

Themes are an amazing thing. You speak them, and they come into being. So when I said that this year, I would be Ferocious.... boy did the Universe ask me to step up to that one. ( and that's the "serendipity"part)

So much of my life, I fought doing things the easy way. In fact, for someone who has almost no Earth in their astrological chart, I have a huge stubborn, bull-headed streak. If there's a way to complicate a matter, I'm the one charging straight for it.

My father once said that I like to shoot myself in the foot, and (a) complain about the pain and (b) show my wound to everyone and ask for sympathy. My father is ALSO a huge Edward Abbey fan.

Come to think of it, my father also tends to do things the difficult way. Sorry Dad, but it looks like the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.... although I must say, if I'm going to be like someone, my Dad is a pretty fantastic choice. I've seen him go thru some pretty rough stuff, but he's discovered the joy of peaceful open place, and he honors his "inner wanderer" in wonderful ways. May I grow into that wisdom.

But I'm off track, I was going to speak to dangerous trails. The view is much more magnificent when you had to trudge a bit to get there. A road that challenges you beyond what you thought possible is the only way we get to experience our own growth. It blesses us with this opportunity to reach inside, and despite our doubts, pull something from within us, utilize some tool previously unknown, and conquer an adventure we would not have thought possible.

This seems to go hand in hand with this week's SwirlyGirl Figment, which asks us "if all expenses are paid and your safety is gauranteed, where in the world would you want to go?"

At first of course, my thoughts went to Scotland, the place that feels most like home. But I want to stay in Scotland, not just visit, so perhaps that is not the answer this week. I long to see the steps of Sacre Coeur in Paris again. The sun setting, turning the marble pink, as street musicians play is one of my happiest travel memories.

But then I thought, "Dream bigger... have anything."

I thought of OuterSpace. Watch the earth rise from the moon. See Jupiter close up. Swim thru the cosmic materials in the rings of Saturn. However, her question does ask where in "the world would I go, and so perhaps "space" might be outside the rules.

This turned my thoughts to the even greater unknown... The bottom of the ocean. It remains one of the undiscovered countries of our planet because of the physics of pressure and light. A human being simply can't exist down there, but OH, what wonders haven't we seen.

Safety gauranteed, I could swim with dolphins, killer whales, sharks, and creatures that haven't even been discovered. Would a see the mysterious Giant Squid? Could I, in some essence become a mermaid, and live as one of the beings of the sea?

Changing course again....what of my Big Cat love? Safari in Africa is another wild and wonderful choice. Not just a tourists' drive through the open plains, but a stay WITH the animals. Sleeping on the dry grass of the veldt and listening to the lions hunt. Wander with elephants as they search for water and food. View an endless sunrise and listen to the wild world waking up.

Or the most dangerous trail.... Mt. Everest. If I was fully funded and gauranteed to survive, could I... would I .... hike the tallest mountain on our planet? Surely the sights from up there are beyond imagining... top of the world, knowing you are there through your own strength, stubborness and determination.

Then again, isnt' part of the thrill of Everest that ever-lingering possiblity that you may die? So would safety gauranteed be a help, or a hinderance? If it's not all on the line, do you still have the same determination to push forward?

Do we sometimes hike the dangerous trails, simply for the fact that they are dangerous? Or is that line of thinking why I keep shooting myself in the foot?

Build Wings on the Way Down

"If we listened to our intellect we'd never have a love affair, we'd never have a friendship, we'd never go into business, because we'd be cynical. Well that's just nonsense! You've got to jump off the cliff all the time and build wings on the way down." ~Ray Bradbury

Found this quote on a friend’s LJ and was really amused and moved at the same time.

The sentiment is similar the one I usually express in my pool analogy. Which is to say, some people ease into a cold pool slowly, bit by bit, stair by stair. But I think this takes much longer, and doesn’t really aid the ‘temperature accommodation’ process well.

I am the type that jumps into the deep end for one quick blood-jolting shock, and then treads the water to warm up. Now, take that theory and apply it life, not just swimming.

So many places in my life, I cannonball into the deep end. Some call this courage, some call it stupidity, and I guess it has been both at different times in my life.

There have been times where I’ve jumped in, only to find I’m not dressed for swimming, or that I’ve forgotten how to swim.

There are times I’ve plunged straight to the bottom, and when my head finally breaks the surface, the first thought I find there is “OH shit, I forgot how much I hate water.”

But ultimately, I rejoice in the time I’ve spent in the pool. I mean, as much as I like a good tan, life is not about laying on a lounge chair on the dry and safe patio.

Taped to my computer monitor is the fortune from a cookie I had last week …

“Approach all areas of life with a bold enthusiasm”

Funny isn’t it? I only vaguely remember taping that there last week, and yet, here I am blogging, and suddenly I SEE it and I READ it, and I get that in the scheme of the Universe, this arrived in my life last week, so that it could support the feeling I’m having right now.

It might as well have said “Get back in the Goddam Pool, Girl!” or “Leap, and the Wings will appear.”

These ideas were also present in the books I read this weekend (home with a migraine, in bed from Saturday morning, until this morning). They were fun filled tales of facing the dark and challenging your fear and allowing yourself to experience all that life offers.

In short, the Universe seems to be working on sending me the same message in as many different ways as she can manage.

Got it, Mom! Time to Jump again.