end of the world

It can feel like a MAD world

20 kids murdered at school a week ago

...a really BAD world

A friend hung himself last night

Today the proclaimed “End of the World”

For many, it is the end of the world as they knew it

For their children are gone

And yet, 

My heart is still able to feel the GLAD in this world

As my prayers and healing thoughts join the

Innumerable heartfelt and gut wrenching prayers of a nation

...and the GLAD in this day

50 years ago a dear soul blessed this world with her birth

Happy Birthday Lauren

MAD

BAD

GLAD

Life is ALL of it

Camino Day 7 continued - Logroño

The massive door into the Cathedral’s albergue quarters shut behind us and we were welcomed by a man who was smiling and tangibly gentle in spirit...deep breath and an ahh...sanctuary. He expressed gratitude that we were there. We were grateful to be offered a mat to sleep on the floor. He advised us of the evening’s schedule: community dinner at 8pm, followed by a short prayer service, and that the cost of our stay with dinner was by donation. We would have paid whatever was asked for a roof over our heads!

After dropping off our backpacks in a room bare of furniture but stacked with backpacks against the walls, we headed back out into the “festivities” to find a store to buy fruit and other snacks. Thankfully, we safely maneuvered our way through the several blocks of drunks to a street where the families and not inebriated festival goers were celebrating. This lovely street filled with ice cream and food carts, street entertainers, balloons and bubble blowers was just a block or two from the streets of drunken revelry. It was quite the sight to see children wide-eyed and mouths gaped upon catching a peek at the intoxicated celebrations and then seeing their parents shoo them away as quick as possible! 

Upon our return to the Cathedral we encountered an equally entertaining sight: little old Spanish ladies headed for evening church service, all dollied up in their church attire and heels, held handkerchiefs to their noses and shook their heads in disapproval as they navigated their way through the drunks, broken glass and the urine! Then there was more shaking of their heads as they passed a young man in costume chatting it up with a girl outside the entrance to the Cathedral - he was shirtless but for the angels wings strapped to his back and he wore a white flapped skirt with a giant fake penis hanging out! Seriously!

We expected our community dinner to be sparse, as the number of pilgrims far exceeded capacity. The parish volunteers packed us into the dining room and a hallway quickly converted into a makeshift overflow dining room. Then, unexpectedly, the priest arrived, led us in a beautiful and humorous blessing and he personally served us our meal! The food and wine was plentiful and the communion with the other pilgrims as well as the priest was heart warming, gratitude-filled, and joyous. We came from different countries, spoke different languages, lived dramatically different lives, and still, I had never experienced true communion with others like this. I imagine that this might be how the American pilgrims felt at the first Thanksgiving meal with the Native Americans. 

After dinner, the priest led us into the church and passed out a prayer sheet translated into probably 7 or so languages. It was very powerful to hear the same prayer read by the native speakers of each of these different languages. 

That night, Mason, our friend from Holland, a young man from London and I slept on mats in the Priest’s grand office that smelt of pipe tobacco. We could hear the partying continuing all through the night just on the other side of the wall of our improvised bedroom.

When we left our sanctuary early the next morning, not particularly well rested, but deeply touched by our fellowship at the parish albergue, we came across cleanup crews water blasting the streets and straggling party goers still drinking. One straggler presented us with an apt ending to our time in Logroño. This young man was in a business suit and while holding his penis in one hand to urinate, he raised his other hand to us and wished us “Buen Camino!”

the Camino de Santiago (chaos)

Day 7, another day of contrast. It was a very long day of walking, around 30 kilometers or 20 miles. My feet were not yet ready for this lengthy of a walk and I developed my first blisters, actually 6 of them! We arrived in the evening, around 630pm, to our destination, Logrono.  Logrono is a university city with a population of 130,000, similar in both these respects to Fort Collins, the city I live in. Logrono is also the capital of the wine-growing region of La Rioja. 

Throughout the day, we had heard from other pilgrims that today, Saturday, was the first day of a week-long wine harvesting festival being celebrated in Logrono. Many pilgrims opted to stay in a town 10 kilometers before Logrono because of worry over the availability of sleeping accommodations, but we were excited to experience the festival and decided to keep walking. I noticed my own feelings of scarcity and worry, and instead, I set my intent on creating abundance.

Walking into this city was surreal, especially after a full day of walking in nature. It was like Mardi Gras on steroids! College-aged kids packed the streets and were so intoxicated that it was scary. There were people throwing bottles on the ground, guys peeing in the open amongst the crowds in broad daylight, couples making out as if unaware anyone else was there, guys fighting, other guys with bloody faces and shirts I’m guessing from earlier fights.... It literally was total chaos! (We later learned that unemployment in Spain is at a staggering 25% and that the young adult population is the most affected, hence, the amplification of the celebration.)

We ran into some other pilgrims who said that all the albergues were “complete,” the Spaniard’s english word for “full,” and that the hotels were full as well. Mason and our friend were happy to sleep under the stars outside of town that night, but me, not so much! At some point over the last week, I had heard that parish albergues do not turn anyone away, so I encouraged them to give the church a try. 

Churches and cathedrals along the Camino are always located in the old part of the towns and cities, which in Logrono was where the heart of the partying was going on. So we made our way through the crowds, doing our best to avoid the pee rivers (I’m not exaggerating! The stench was horrible too!) and broken glass and aggressive drunks, and knocked on the locked door of the Catedral de Santa Maria de la Redonda.

The door opened and, in one brief moment, we stepped out of mayhem and into serenity. 

....to be continued!

Buen Camino!

the Camino de Santiago (a day of contrasts - the suffering)

At the end of our fifth day of walking, we experienced a dramatic contrast from the rest of our day, which to this point had been rich with laughter, rainbows and reuniting with a friend.

Mason, our friend, and I were crossing a bridge over a river. We three were slower, more contemplative walkers than most pilgrims, so there were no other people around. I heard a horse neighing and spotted him a short distance away in a field across the river. He was staring me down, and continuing to neigh. When I looked closer, it looked as if he only had 3 legs. Was that right? I wasn’t sure but it was clear he was trying to get our attention, so I called Mason and our friend over and we headed toward him.

It is difficult to even write about this encounter. This horse had lost his back left leg from the knee down. His wound was not fully healed yet and there were bees swarming it. His rib cage was protruding from a lack of food and he had a braided cloth bridle/rein around his neck with burrs all over it and burrs covered his mane as well. He was a horrific sight.

A wave of shock and sorrow washed over the three of us. We were at a loss at what to do. We were out in the middle of nowhere. We didn’t know if he was lost, or if had been abandoned by his owner. It appeared very unlikely that he was being cared for by anyone. For the first time in my life, I wished that I had a gun, so that I could put this dear creature out of his misery.

The horse shook his head in a very agitated manner. We thought that he wanted the burr-filled noose removed from his neck. But when I tried to get close enough to him to remove it, he was too spooked and skittish and moved away. Witnessing his attempt at walking made us immediately back away from him to a distance that he was comfortable. His hips dramatically curved without a leg to even them out and when he struggled to walk it looked as if his spine would twist and snap in two from the weight of his hip muscles and pelvis. We were witnessing the embodiment of pure suffering and despair, and our heartache in our helplessness was unbearable.

Our time with the horse was teary-eyed, solemn and prayer-filled. We broke off pieces of bread from our baguette and threw them to him, which he quickly gobbled up. Although the river was so close, there was no way he could maneuver down its banks, so we searched for a container to bring him water, but to no avail, so we soaked the bread pieces with water from our water bottles.

We all wanted the same thing; we wanted this horse’s suffering to end, but we didn’t have the capacity to stop it.  So we did the only thing we had the ability to do in that moment and that was to show kindness and share love with him. Our hearts were still breaking though.

Later, when we arrived at our albergue, we asked other pilgrims if they had seen the 3-legged horse, and no one had. Why had the Camino “provided” us with this gruesome experience of pure suffering and agony?

...to be continued.

the Camino de Santiago (a day of contrasts - the beauty)

“The Camino will provide” is a common mantra on the pilgrimage, and it provided me with a host of insightful experiences, making it difficult to know where to begin. I’m just going to jump in with a day of contrasts; day 5 of my pilgrimage.

Mason and I woke up this morning to a rough night’s sleep. Our room in this particular albergue (pilgrim hostel) had 8 bunk beds and Mason and I were on top bunks with two Spaniard men who didn’t speak any English sleeping below us.  At some point during the previous night, after lights out at 10pm, a cot was brought into our room for a pilgrim who also left in the morning before daylight. Although we never saw him, we sure heard him! It was our first encounter (of too many) with a horrendous snorer...the type of snoring you would swear is magnified by your ear plugs and feels so powerful that it stirs the air into waves that crash against your body and the walls and the ceiling of the room! You get the idea!

When Mason and I hopped off our bunks (actually, I am already waddling at this point because of feet pain), the two Spaniards started imitating the snorer and in charades-like fashion illustrated all of their failed attempts through the night at getting this guy to shut up...shining their flashlights on him, making animal sounds to wake him up and even throwing things at him! I am laughing from my gut - the kind of laughter that brings tears to your eyes and literally doubles you over and makes you worry that you might pee in your pants! I have often heard the phrase “laughter is the best medicine” and for the first time I felt the transformative power of laughter and was truly grateful to start my day with this flood of positivity! 

Mason and I set out walking on this beautiful, crisp blue-skied day, and while climbing a mountain, Mason spotted a faint rainbow. As we reached the top of the mountain trail, the rainbow intensified and we could see our path for many kilometers ahead of us heading directly through the center of this rainbow. Gradually, clouds began to gather and a second rainbow appeared above the first one, both framing a hilltop village (Cirauqui, the first of many villages that Mason claimed as his favorite!) that we were headed towards. The rainbows felt like they appeared for us pilgrims, beckoning us to continue on our journeys with beauty and awe and magic in our hearts.

At lunch, we met up with a travel buddy who had already become like family to us. The day just kept getting better and more beautiful. And then, at the end of our day, the contrast.

...to be continued.

Buen Camino!

the Camino de Santiago: the Way of Saint James (finding myself)

Imagine that you have 5 weeks in front of you without emails, texts, or phone calls, without TV or an ipod, no driving or traffic, no family needs or household chores, no job demands, no volunteer responsibilities, and no appointments. Your only responsibility or goal for each day is to walk...in nature.

What I discovered when I stripped away these normal “distractions” in life was that I was left with myself! It was as if the “onion layers” were peeled very quickly and there “I” was, and there “clarity” was in my thoughts and feelings. Beautiful! Healing flourished from this space of presence and clarity.

For me, being in nature was a key element in my pilgrimage, as nature always seems to support and nourish my internal journey. The peace and harmony of nature grounded me. In nature, I would find myself overcome with feelings of beauty, of gratitude, and of joy. I also loved tuning in to the realities of other living creatures, like cows and sheep, ants and birds. I was fascinated by a spider’s web, or the snail “fiestas” on the anise plants. I was tickled to eat food from its source: sweet and juicy wild blackberries, almonds, (chestnuts, which I could do without!), figs, apples, pears, sunflower seeds, and grapes. And, I never tired of the incredible sunrises and sunsets, the mountain vistas, the rivers, or the vineyards. Thank you Mother Earth for your beauty and sustenance!

An unexpected common experience for many of us pilgrims was the desire to avoid the bigger cities. When you are in nature for the majority of your time and then enter a city, you can feel the energetic overstimulation of city life. Your senses and attention are pulled externally. I was amazed at my immediate consumerism response in the cities...I would want an outfit I saw in a store window, rather than being satisfied with the two outfits I had packed and found functional and plenty in nature!

...to be continued!

Buen Camino!

the Camino de Santiago: the Way of Saint James (the decision)

So, in one moment, my son Mason and I are watching the movie “The Way” with Martin Sheen, whose character is walking the Camino de Santiago for his son who died on the walk, and then, just two weeks later, Mason and I are in Spain walking the Camino de Santiago ourselves!

About 10 years ago, I had read Shirley MacLaine’s book The Camino about her pilgrimage, but I don’t remember feeling drawn to walk it myself. Yet, when Mase and I were watching “The Way” and he said, “Mom, let’s do it,” my heart leapt...grabbed...hoped...hungered...at the suggestion of a pilgrimage. I am not sure I realized the extent to which my soul needed this pilgrimage, but the longing was clearly present.

For me, this pilgrimage rates up there with other highlights of my life: marrying Trey, the birth of my 3 children, and my blessed interactions with Christ Consciousness, my angels and my guides. To anyone interested in walking the Camino, I wholeheartedly encourage you to do so. You can find abundant information about it on the web, and I would love to chat with you directly about it if your interested.

Every peregrino, that is, pilgrim, has his or her own reason to set out on a pilgrimage, and the Camino provides exactly what is needed. It is truly a time to be selfish, and I am referring to selfishness packaged in the highest light and energy and intent imaginable, as it is a journey of self-seeking and self-nourishing and self-discovery. 

I chose to journey without my smartphone, my computer, my camera or even a watch. I desired ultimate simplification for 5 weeks, unplugging as much as possible from technology, world and personal affairs, and even the constraints of time. I doubt that I will ever experience this scope of isolation and simplification again, and I must share that it was freeing!

...to be continued!

Buen Camino!

pilgrimage for my soul

I am heading to Spain for 6 weeks on a pilgrimage with my son Mason. We will walk the Camino de Santiago, a 500 mile trek. I have allowed life’s struggles to wear me down and I know that this journey will be one of self-reflection and healing, and I am ready. I am so grateful that Spirit has orchestrated this time for me to connect with myself and God again. Peace and love to us all. 

Peru

I've just returned from a two week trip to Peru with my hubby, youngest kiddo and my mother-in-law. We spent the first week visiting Machu Picchu, the Sacred Valley and Paracas. The second week we volunteered in the community of Villa El Salvador, working in a senior citizen center as well as a child care center. Our service work in the shantytown was sobering, yet rewarding. To witness the capacity of humanity to hold hope, joy and community in their hearts in the face of such grave poverty was simply beautiful and life-affirming. I am so grateful for the brief yet real connection with the people of Peru. God bless. And my days in the majesty of Machu Picchu and the Andes will forever be with me. Awe and gratitude.

let's get real

In the “let's get real” category, the one topic our culture is most afraid to look at, is the one inevitable experience every single person on this planet has in common - death.

journeying to joy by observing my sadness

Is it possible to be addicted to sadness? Does being a sensitive and empathic person mean that I am destined to be consumed by the sadness in my life, and in that of others and the world?

Am I ready to live a more joyful life? “Of course!”, my mind says. Yet, for me, joy will continue to be fleeting until I become aware of my unconscious lifelong patterns of attaching to sadness. I am ready to explore my relationship to sadness and challenge beliefs that I have always held as firm and unchangeable. It has been a mind-blowing experience to observe and discover some of the ways that sadness “serves” me: 

- sadness feels normal. Period. It has always been, and I have assumed will always be, the most powerful emotion, overwhelming and flooding me seemingly without my control and consuming me for great lengths of time.

- when I am sad about a situation, it feels like I am a more caring person and that I am more present to the situation than when I don’t feel sadness.

- in sadness, my prayers feel more powerful and intent-focused and meaningful. 

- there is a profound intimacy when I connect with others over sad situations, whether it is my sadness or theirs...it is an “I get you and care deeply for you” connection.

- I believe that sadness is automatically coupled with my sensitivity as a “blessed curse.” 

Wow.

Sadness = Normal. Caring. Presence. Powerful prayers. Intimacy. Blessed curse.

Though well-intentioned, each of these perceptions/beliefs/assumptions/patterns compromises my inner knowing and soul truth. I now can literally see how my compromising of truth is the undercurrent of all my sadness! 

This is huge...and to be continued!

fun projects!

Update on Mason’s journey in this new year...

Check out Gloria Estefan’s newest video at the link below to see Mason as the lead male as the “Brad” character from Rocky Horror Picture Show:

Exclusive: Gloria Estefan's New Video Premiere

For the next two months, Mason is in Puerto Rico working on a Disney made for TV movie. He is a principal dancer and is having a blast! Of course, I will post a blog on the movie when it comes out!

jumping Jenice- ha!

Made a strawberry cake today to bring to dinner at a friend’s tonight. After pouring the batter into the pan, I repetitively lifted the pan an inch or so off the counter and dropped it to make all the air bubbles come to the surface and pop, just like my mom taught me. Made me laugh thinking about the blog I posted early this morning...maybe I need to jump rope or do some jumping jacks to shake up all my fear pockets to the surface and POP! Wahoo!

fear pockets

Throughout their lives, I have told my children that there is no scarcity, that scarcity is not real but merely a fabrication of fearful thoughts and feelings. Yet I am still discovering that I hold onto this fear even in the face of abundance. Although scarcity is not a predominant feeling of mine, I seem to tuck it away in little fear pockets that get triggered by seemingly innocuous events, diminishing my well being. 

Grace is a freshman in high school this year and is our only child to play high school sports. Her foremost goal in basketball this year was to swing from JV to varsity. She has met her goal and I am so elated for her! Yet I still hold fear around this accomplishment. Will she get any play time in the varsity game? If she does get time, will she play well enough for the coach to keep her in or to put her in the next time? 

This is CRAZY FEARFUL thinking on my part!!! And, of course, it has absolutely nothing to do with Grace! She is a superb athlete with a tremendous work ethic and she is always focused on bettering her skills. She is in flow. She is an active participant in her journey.

I was at lunch yesterday with a friend when I received a text from Mason that he probably won’t be booked for a Disney movie for which he had been put on hold. My energy immediately sank. Literally, a wave of despair, frustration, sadness, scarcity consumed me and it took incredible effort for me to stay mentally present with my friend. I just wanted to shrink and cry. (I am so embarrassed to admit this.)

Again, unfounded, illusory fear has its tight grip on me. Mason too is in flow on his journey in the entertainment industry. So many beautiful experiences and people have come into his life on this path. So many “successes.” Confirmation after confirmation. 

What’s up with me? Honestly, I am not sure, as fear disorients me. Do I hold unrealistic expectations of perfection? Do I view a “no” as failure? Do I lack complete trust and faith in Spirit, the Universe, to serve our highest good? Most likely, yes, yes, and yes. 

 I no longer wish to converse with my fear from my head, rationalizing and talking myself out of fear. This approach is merely a temporary fix. Mental reasoning doesn’t eliminate my fear (although I am not discounting the importance of awareness of my fear), but only sets it aside until it surfaces again in a similar situation. Instead, I wish to eliminate fearful thinking and feeling from my being for good, for my good.

Part of the splendor in eating a warm, crusty french baguette, is relishing in the soft chewy inside. Where is the splendor when you slice a piece and the interior is hollow because of an air pocket? I am ready for my celebration and joy of life to be solid and consistent and full, without fear pockets scattered throughout. It is time for me to shake my fear pockets to the surface and release them to Spirit, to the light, to Truth. I am ready to be a student of my own teaching...abundance is abundant!

(PS Jenice - All is well and perfect in this adventure of journeying through life.)

home again

Life has thrown me off kilter this last month and a half. I have been fragile, fearful, a crying mess, withdrawn.... I am better now, stronger, thanks to prayer and my connection with Spirit. Thank you God, thank you my guides, my angels, Christ Consciousness, Mother Earth for your loving support, strength, guidance, healing, insight and peace. Thank you for hope. Thank you for the knowing that all is well.

2012 feels like a year of potential for powerful growth. I am grateful to be present on earth during this time of great change, shifting and healing that is affecting us individually and collectively. I hope to maintain presence and connection through the good and the not so good. I can with the loving assistance of Source/Spirit. Blessed Be.