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Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Namaste to Knoxville

I don't understand violence and I don't understand hatred. This weekend's shooting (read first-hand accounts) in Knoxville hit close to home, since I am a part of the Unitarian Universalist community. Tonight my church, the UU Fellowship of Fredericksburg, held a candlelight vigil in love and support of the Knoxville community. We took our candles outside where we sang "This little light of mine" and "Tomorrow" from Annie. We shared our thoughts and grief. There was a powerful feeling of strength and solidarity between us and with the larger UU community.

I remember similar feelings of shock and grief when the shooting at the Amish school happened nearly two years ago (not to mention the VA Tech shooting, also so close to home). Who would want to harm the Amish, some of the most peaceful people in the world? My church was deeply touched by their response of forgiveness and love, and that is again the feeling that is emanating from Knoxville during this difficult time. Indeed, the front-page quote on the Tennessee Valley UU Church's website reads:

"Love is the spirit of this church and service is its law. This is our great covenant: to live together in peace, to seek the truth in love, and to help one another." ~ James Vila Blake
I was also touched by the observations of Annette Marquis, our district executive, who I met a few weeks ago at a leadership conference at my church. She has been helping the Knoxville UU community, and her experiences give a first-hand look at the response there. I encourage you to take a look. If you are also inclined to leave your thoughts and prayers for the Knoxville community, a blog and a Facebook group have been set up for that purpose.

A special note of thanks in my heart goes out to the members of
Second Presbyterian Church in Knoxville, as well as the larger interfaith community, who opened their arms and hearts wide for the TVUUC members during and after this tragedy.
~~~
The liberal UU faith is getting more attention as a result of this tragedy. It is often difficult for UU's to explain our faith, since we allow each other freedom in finding our individual beliefs. I, myself, have been embarrassed recently by my inability to articulate UUism to a new friend (I'm so much better writing than speaking on the spot!), so I am working on that, especially since I now represent my church as the youngest member of our current Board of Trustees. I am also linking to a few other UU-oriented blogs that I have come across, Transient and Permanent and the Socinian, since they are more adept than I am currently in discussing UU issues and apologetics. Of particular interest to me were the Socinian's entries on Biblical Prooftexting for UUs and Reinterpreting John 14:6, which elegantly describes in intellectual terms the path my heart and spirit have taken.

Unitarian Universalism comes from a rich historical faith tradition and are bound by seven principles, which include
a belief in the inherent worth and dignity of every person. We welcome those from all faith (and non-faith) traditions, and there are those in my congregation who would call themselves Jewish, Christian, Buddhist, Pagan, Atheist, Agnostic, Humanist, Hindu, and more, as well as those who would prefer not to be labeled at all. Our greatest bond is our love and respect for each other. I truly believe that when we act in Love, we are expressing the same Spirit, the same Source, the same God, no matter what name we give to it. In the immortal words of Mason Jennings (my new favorite singer/songwriter), "Look deep in your heart and know that we are one."


"Let us commit ourselves to living out our theology. Let us celebrate being part of a reasonable and a passionate faith--a faith that requires us to engage deeply with moral questions. This work is difficult and the discoveries will be different for each of us, but we must always remember that is is through our most human quality, the ability to love, that we can touch the Divine. So may it be, and Amen."

Monday, July 28, 2008

The impeded stream

It may be that when we no longer know which way to go we have come to our real journey. The mind that is not baffled is not employed. The impeded stream is the one that sings. ~ Wendell Berry, Collected Poems.

There have always been two places where I feel close to God through nature and where I find healing: the mountains and the ocean. I am learning that I need to retreat to both places regularly for the sake of regenerating my soul and spirit. And in general, my husband and I need vacations just for us. We have not had a 'real' vacation in 5 years. We have had many trips out of town, but mostly to visit friends or relatives at holidays, weddings, or more recently, a series of funerals. I have not sojourned to the mountains, except incidentally, in 9 years, although during our trips to Ferrum and Roanoke I did feel refreshed by being among the hills and mountains. I have not traveled to the ocean at all in 10 years, so that is where I set my attention this summer.


My gracious friend opened her home to me, which made the trip easy and affordable. It was a time to relax without guilt, to just be. I made it to Huntington Beach once, and to Buckroe Beach on the Chesapeake Bay three times. I attended three yoga classes, and had a lovely massage. I ate out alone for lunch most days at a lovely deli across the street where every attention was paid me, and for dinner either stayed in or ate out with Hope as company. Evenings I would snuggle on the couch in my pj's and silk kimono robe and read or watch television. On my last day we went to the cinema to the ultimate feel-good summer movie.

And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play in your hair. ~ Kahil Gibran

The beach gave me just what I needed. The saltwater and sun are both healing to the body. I swam and floated in the sea, walked the long shoreline, and just listened and watched the waves crashing on the shore. The waves ebb and flow, one after the other, now quiet and now loud. Being near the ocean helps me deepen my breath--I often find I'm holding my breath or breathing very shallow especially during stressful times. I also think of the ocean often when meditating, as it helps me let go of stray thoughts when I think of each thought as a different wave that is just crashing on shore then washing away back into the stillness of my mind.


"Prana" is the Sanskit word for "breath" or "life-force", similar in meaning to the Chinese word "qi" or "chi", the Greek "pneuma," and the Hebrew "ruah" which refers to the "Breath of Life" in Genesis that created the world and the physical being of man. The practice of yoga (meaning "to control" or "to unite") centers around the breath and prepares one for meditation. In daily life, we often 'take a breather' or even just sigh deeply when we are stressed or angry and need to calm down and center ourselves. Is it any wonder, then, that I was instinctively drawn to the ocean and yoga practice during my retreat? I need oxygen in a big way, on all levels--physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual.

The way our breath behaves within us becomes a dynamic metaphor for the way we move on the outside. Full breaths are characteristic of living a full life, and visa-versa. ~ Catherine Ghosh, The Breath of Bhakti: Pranayama from a devotional perspective.

By inhaling, we provide much-needed oxygen to our cells, and by exhaling rid our body of carbon dioxide. When we
don't breathe well, we acidify our body, which opens us up to all kinds of dis-ease. I have larger-than-normal lungs, but due to my asthma I am using about 18% less lung capacity than the normal woman (with normal lungs) my size. I developed asthma and migraines around the same time as I was taking on more responsibility at work. (Coincidence?) Later, as the stress increased both at work and outside I developed heartburn, and high cholesterol. I got tired of the drug cocktail my doctors had me on and went to an herbalist to get to the root of the problem(s). It wasn't a big surprise when a BT assessment showed that my body was de-mineralized and overly acidic. Although I can't prove it, I am convinced that the majority of my health issues were directly related to stress. Add to everything a trough of depression that I can't shake alone (the body is so attached to the mind!).

Meditation, a better diet, exercise, counseling, and a less stressful and more fulfilling job are all in my program for better health, and I'm working on each one in degrees. My vacation filled a need, although it wasn't the instant cure-all that part of me secretly hoped for. But I got what I knew deep inside I really needed--stillness, awareness, time for simply being without guilt. After all, inner peace isn't hiding on some beach somewhere. Everything I need is inside of me, waiting to be expressed, interpreted, delivered, born again into my reality.

While remembering, yet again, this truth during my retreat, here is part of what I wrote:

Yet God has spoken to me this week. Through my yoga asanas, through the hands of the masseuse, through the friendliness and care of the Deli Basket staff, through the gentle company of a friend, through the persistence of a cat, through the rolling of the ocean, the rough sand on my feet, the sun burning my skin. And more directly through the printed word--reminding me that everything is connected--my emotions and my health, myself and the Universe, and the great religions of the ages. And even in loneliness and aloneness, in sadness and in boredom, God is there--I am there--I am. I am here, right now. I am here right now--God experiencing life as Heather. I have everything I need.

I may be, in this moment, an impeded stream. But that's okay. I'll observe this part of my journey; simply be here with it with a gentle, knowing joy. And when it's time to move on, I will do so, again with joy.

Namaste.

Friday, July 25, 2008

My friend made the paper with his tasty creations

Yes, it's Jim Daddy in the Martinsville Bulletin, in "The right attitude is the key to cooking for kids"--check it out.


Monday, July 14, 2008

Nice Asana

Yoga at Zenya was wonderful this morning. It felt great to get up and get going my first day here. I knew a lot of the poses from my other classes, and was challenged by a few new ones. I've lined up a few more classes and a massage for this week. It started pouring down rain while I was preparing for the beach, so that was postponed. For lunch I ventured to the Deli Basket, which is just across the street. The guys there are so friendly! By the time I left, they practically knew my life story. I had an egg-salad sandwich, the best potato salad I've ever eaten, and a strawberry jam cheesecake that was almost too pretty to eat. I think I'll go back tomorrow. The rest of the rainy afternoon was spent reading, napping, and being nuzzled by the resident calico cat, Sprinkle. Then grocery shopping with Hope at the farmer's market and Trader Joe's!! My first time at a Trader Joe's--we so need one in the 'burg! I made a favorite meal, pasta g viola, for our dinner along with ceasar salad and bread. Checked in with hubby, then curled up for more reading and channel-flipping.

Sunday, July 13, 2008

I have arrived...

I am comfortably nestled in Hope's apartment in Newport News. We had dinner at Panera, then went to Huntington Park Beach, just a few miles away. It is on the James River close to where it meets the ocean. Not the same beauty as the ocean, but I was able to take a swim! Tomorrow morning I've got a yoga class at 9.

Fabulosity

The word "fabulous" has been coming up a lot in the past few days. I'm not going to waste a good mood by not sharing it, so here I am.

Tonight hubby and I went to a fabulous house concert (thanks, Ruth!) tonight in Hartwood featuring the World Jam Club. Great music, superb company (conveniently a lot of my friends were there), excellent food (potluck with style), a beautiful location (thanks Bill!), a little cha-cha dancing, and cozy conversation. I got tons of compliments on my outfit, necklace, and legs! (A special shout-out to my new fashion guru Lara, who went shopping with me on Thursday.) I'm tired, my feet hurt, but what a great evening!


Later today I'll head down to the beach for my self-prescribed retreat. I'm staying with my friend Hope (how appropriate is that?) and after a week, I'll visit my folks for a few days before returning home. It's long overdue time to do something fun for myself and take some time to look within. A friend reminded me tonight that I am equipped with everything I need--inside. I just need to be able to see it again. It's great to be surrounded by so many people who can see and who remind me when it's not so clear to me.

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

depression sucks


de·pres·sion \di-ˈpre-shən, dē-\ 2b (2): a psychoneurotic or psychotic disorder marked especially by sadness, inactivity, difficulty in thinking and concentration, a significant increase or decrease in appetite and time spent sleeping, feelings of dejection and hopelessness, and sometimes suicidal tendencies

suck \ˈsək\ 4 slang : to be objectionable or inadequate

Depression sucks. Need I say more? I suppose now that I've opened this Pandora's box, I might as well jump right in and own it. I wasn't sure I was going to, here on this blog, because it's not something people like to hear about. It's not something everyone even understands. Yes, I have met people who have little to no experience with depression. It's nice to know that they are out there, not being depressed. Thankfully, the ones I'm thinking of are close friends of mine and are helpful in engaging me in life when I'm down. But it's also real nice to have those friends who are or have been where I'm at. And thank God my husband does understand.

Depression runs in my family. It runs in my husband's family. Generally, we have cycled through our own mild ups and downs in a fairly symbiotic manner...when I was down, he was able to help me, and visa versa. And even then we discussed the idea of seeing a counselor. But now we're both on a more serious down cycle at the same time, so we're finally seeking help. It has been a very tough year for us--those of you who are close know what I'm talking about. And if you don't know, feel free to ask. All of it has had a deeper toll on us than we realized.

Earlier in the week I updated my Facebook status to "...thinks life sucks."
[Depression and PMS together really suck!] A few friends called me out on it, expressing concern and asking what was up. I was very grateful to have friends who would do that. I was able, later, to change my status to "... needs to offer herself the same grace she extends to others." And again, it was nice to hear from others who understood what I meant.

I never know how to answer the inevitable "How are you doing?"--the standard greeting between friends and acquaintances. Even without the depression, one often wonders how much detail to get into. Everyone has good days, bad days, and mundane-blah days. Now, though, answering that question with an "okay" could mean "I've had a pretty good day considering, and I'm feeling alright in the present moment" or "I've had a really bad day but it seems like poor etiquette to bring everyone else down." It's even hard right now to ask for what I need--even to simply call my close friends. I just don't want to bother anyone.

Therapy starts during the next few weeks for both of us. I am planning a retreat for myself--Friday I'm leaving and will return in 12 days. It's time to recharge my batteries, meditate, and lose myself in nature and in surroundings that are removed from my normal responsibilities and routine. I am going to attempt to abstain from the computer, TV, and phone calls (except for checking in with hubby) during that time. Although I'm playing with the idea of a daily blog update, for those of you back home. We'll see.

Today started out okay, then got a little worse as the day dragged on. I finally called a friend and went over to her house. We painted for a while (yes, I painted!). Then I tried on a bunch of her dresses to borrow some for my trip. I had my own little fashion show for her, her kids, and my hubby. Then we had dinner together and watched a few episodes of "Friends." When we got home, we walked a bit with our neighbor. All in all, a good evening.

Thursday, July 3, 2008

A Belated Eulogy for the Palomino Club


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This is my tribute to the Palomino Club in Greensboro, NC--the place where I grew up, the place that formed me into a brassier woman, the place where I became wise in the ways of the world--in other words, wise in the ways of men. This is my tribute to the place I loved to dance, sweat, and twirl around the hardwood floor in the arms of the country men of Carolina; the place where I breathed in my share of second-hand smoke, drank a few Bud Lites but many more bottled waters, and had my hand stamped with an "X" and later with the over-21 Palomino mark. But most of all, this was the place where my boots would step, slide, scuff, stomp, shuffle, rock, grapevine, dig, turn, pivot, twirl, and otherwise make their mark on the dance floor. Man, I loved to dance!

"I'm a member of a country club, country music is what I love." ~ Travis Tritt

The building itself was not very noteworthy--marked by a modest neon sign out front (along with the "park in rear" sign)-- and the parking lot was riddled with giant potholes. Evidently it was a roller skating rink in its previous incarnation. You walked in the front door, showed your membership card and license, signed in, paid the cover charge, got your hand stamped, and in the colder months checked your Carhart jacket. To the immediate left was the women's bathroom with the men's on the right. Step around the partition, and you entered the club at the back of the room near one of the three bars--with another bar on the right side and one near the D.J. on the left. On the far wall was the stage, with live music. Some chairs and tables lined the back and sides of the room, with Amos the mechanical bull and a few pool tables on the right side near the entrance. And in the middle by the stage was the much-used hardwood floor, with a rail forming a ring around the outside for the two-steppers.

"My Boots" Oil Painting, Fall 1996
2nd Place, Boone's Mill Apple Festival


My first visit to the Palomino was with a girlfriend of mine, Kaitlyn, and another friend of hers after their high school graduation--June of 1995. I was home from my first year of college. One night at the Palomino, and we were hooked. Afterwards, we went as often as possible, even when I returned to college (an hour and a half north in VA) and after my folks moved south to Charlotte and I spent my breaks there. When I got married in 2000, I moved too far away to go, but I always liked the idea that the Palomino was still there, and that I could go on my way through town if I really got the itch. It was comforting to think of the guys I knew still there, hanging out, playing pool (assuming they hadn't settled down by then). That thought was nice . . . until a few weeks ago, when I learned that the Palomino club was razed in July of 2000. I paid $2.95 to get the details from the Greensboro News & Record archives. The Palomino was demolished, and storage units were put in its place. I am devastated.

"Life's a dance, you learn as you go. Sometimes you lead, and sometimes you follow." ~ John Michael Montgomery

Kaitlyn is a blonde blue-eyed beauty to my brunette and hazel. We are both very tall and stood out over most of the women in the club, and many of the men. Together we made quite a pair, a dynamic duo. The beautiful thing about my friendship with Kaitlyn was that we always were attracted to, and attracted, different men. We never had a conflict over any guy. We always stuck together and always went home together. Sometimes going home included a stop for breakfast with the guys, sometimes we sent our phone numbers home with someone new, but for us it was always a girls' night out. We loved country music and loved to dance. We took every opportunity to get out on the floor when our favorite songs came on. The perfect nights seemed to start when we would hear the first few bars of T-R-O-U-B-L-E as soon as we signed in at the front door.

Tracy Byrd playing at the Palomino

There were plenty of concerts that we saw at the Palomino...I know I can't remember them all: Tracy Byrd, Shenandoah, Rick Trevino, Rhett Akins, and Chris LeDoux (twice! He threw carnations out to the women). Kaitlyn and I also went to see George Strait at the Greensboro Coliseum, and Brooks & Dunn in Raleigh--an evening and a car accident I will never forget. Another of Kaitlyn's friends, Bethany, often joined us at the Palomino. One summer the three of us made a pilgrimage to Nashville. We went to the Country Music Hall of Fame (saw Alan Jackson's jeans from the Chattahoochee video), did some shopping, and danced the nights away (but not at the Wildhorse--we were too young to get in there unaccompanied.)

"She's a devil, she's an angel, she's a woman, she's a child. She's a heartache when she leaves you, but she'll leave you with a smile." ~ George Strait

During my junior year in college, Kaitlyn moved to Texas for a while, then joined the Marine Reserves. I mailed a plethora of letters to her while she was in boot camp in Parris Island, along with collages and reminders of our Palomino adventures. She would write when she could. During her absence, I still went dancing when I could find someone to go with. I remember going with Davina, a gal from college, and her two Marine buddies, Eric and Dave, from Camp LeJeune. We had a full night of dancing, had to call a locksmith to get into the car, stopped by the Waffle House, got back to college at dawn, and I drew a sketch of Dave while we talked before calling it a night. When Kaitlyn graduated from boot camp 2nd in her platoon (who knew such a beautiful lady could be so tough?) we had a grand reunion at--where else?--the Palomino. For a belated celebration of my 21st birthday, she bought me a couple Bud Lites, and we danced 'til "Happy Trails" came on at closing and they kicked us out.

"Kaitlyn and Me", Oil Painting, Spring 1997
2nd Place, Ferrum College Student Art Show

Also, there were the men. There's just not a Palomino without the men. I could never forget them, but forgive me--I can't recall all the names. Roy was a constant, always there to talk to in between dances, with his circle of friends. Tex was also there, especially towards the end of our heyday, and was a good two-step partner (not always an easy thing to find). Adam, too--I remember going to breakfast with them once, when Adam gifted me with some fairly severe but amusing caricatures. Dean and I danced occasionally--he was just getting over a serious relationship (but who wasn't?). Robbie, Scott, and a multitude of nameless faces, including the three sexy men I danced with on my 20th, and who gave me birthday kisses.

"I could've missed the pain, but I would've missed the dance." ~ Garth Brooks

Sexy men, plain men, sweet men, scary men, young men, old men, tall men (my most uncomfortable slow dance ever was with this really tall guy who was too used to bending over to dance with short women), short men (who did try but never really had a chance with either one of us), blue-collar, white-collar, guys with the tight cowboy-cut Wranglers (mmm!), guys with really tight "spray-on" Wranglers (uh...no!), guys with cowboy boots, many with cowboy hats, the rodeo men and bull-riders with the dinner-plate belt buckles who really did it up during the Tush-Push, the guys who would line-dance and the ones who preferred to watch the women, the guys who were good two-steppers (loved them!), and the ones who, sadly, only thought they were.

"Autumn Meditation" Watercolor Painting, Fall 1998
People's Choice and 1st Place, Ferrum College Student Art Show

And then there were the men we dated. I'll let Kaitlyn tell her own stories--I'll just say she never lacked for someone interested in her. Of the handful of men I dated from the Palomino, there were a few of special note. There was Will, the army guy who lied about his age to go out with me (he was actually 30, not 25). My sister found us on New Year's Eve asleep on the couch and ratted me out to my folks when they came home. Kaitlyn died of laughter when my mother, after my dad left the room, leaned over and asked "How was his body?" There was Keith, my Bryan White look-alike, who never stopped laughing--I remember him going with me to buy art supplies while it was pouring rain outside. I remember him laughing, always laughing. There was David, who came to visit me at college and showed up in part of his fireman gear (SEXY!) and later drove us down to the Palomino and back. And last but certainly not least, Mike, another fireman, who seemed so nervous with me, especially after my mother whipped out the video camera on him when he arrived at the house (really, Mom!). Mike was a sweetheart and I was always glad for a dance with him. The men who treated me with respect quickly won a place in my heart, and I hated breaking their hearts or my own by saying goodbye.

"We all take different paths in life, but no matter where you go, you take a little bit of each other everywhere you go." ~ Tim McGraw

As I said, I grew up at the Palomino. I went into my Palomino days young, naive, and clueless when a guy was interested in me. I left a few years older and a much wiser woman. I learned what kind of men to avoid and which ones were worth spending time with. I learned to say "no" politely, and how to say "NO" not-so-politely when necessary. I learned to trust my instincts. I learned that everyone there was hurting in some way, and so I learned compassion, both for others and for myself. I learned to see beyond appearances. I learned that girlfriends are often there when a man is not. I learned to trust my girlfriends' instincts. I learned that when a man is overly and irrationally jealous, then it is probably more of a reflection of his actions than one's own. I learned that although I may give my heart to a man, I belonged, first of all, to myself and to my God, and ultimately would have to answer only to my own conscience. I learned to live without regrets. I learned that I am most beautiful when I cast off any self-consciousness and just be myself and have fun.


Time went on and eventually Kaitlyn and I found the men we would marry. Our times together became less frequent. We had one last girls' night out at the Palomino, and in 2000 were married within a month of each other. I said goodbye to the Palomino back then, but always thought I would step out onto that hardwood floor again someday. Alas, within a few months of my wedding it no longer even existed. And although there are other country bars in the world, it could never be our old Palomino. So now, I raise my glass (a stiff Jack and Coke) in a toast to all the good ol' days:

Goodnight, Palomino. And to all the Palomino men, to the Palomino ladies, to everyone else who loves to move your boots on a hardwood floor when you hear the fiddle and steel guitar, and especially to Kaitlyn--Happy Trails to you, until we meet again.


"You can take the girl out of the honky tonk, but you can't take the honky tonk [out of the girl]" ~ Brooks & Dunn