My karma bank is overflowing, and it feels like heavy wool clouds are sodden and bursting with magnetic return blessing goodness.
In all endeavors I am walking forward with faith, allowing the gracious benevolence to receive my footfall.
Radio silence on the blog, but ever-vigilant in the ethers.
The Purpose of Emotion ( Rumi )
A certain Sufi tore his robe in grief,
and the tearing brought such relief he have the robe
the name faraji, which means ripped open,
or happiness, or one who brings the joy
of being opened. It comes from the stem faraj,
which also refers to the genitals, male and female.
His teacher understood the purity of the action,
while others just saw the ragged appearance.
If you want peace and purity, tear away
the coverings! This is the purpose of emotion,
to let a streaming beauty flow through you.
Call it spirit, elixir, or the original agreement
between yourself and God. Opening into that
gives peace, a song of being empty, pure silence.
Emotions are signals - from the consciousness and spirit through to our conscious awareness - they are materialized messages from our intuition meant to awaken attention to our present experience. Emotions are gifts - they are experiential proof of our soul's experience as we interact with others and the world.
Although I allow my heart to guide me, I do not let my emotions - especially those of anger, bitterness, regret, etc. do anything but watercolor my reality. Holding on to perceived slights, voids, dissatisfactions, and even "righteous indignations" only manifest dis-ease.
Emotions are meant to be fluid and ephemeral markers of experience, but are not the lessons themselves.
"Empathy may be painful to oneself: seeing the pain of others, especially as broadcasted by mass media, can cause one temporary or permanent clinical depression; a phenomenon which is sometimes called weltschmerz.
One must be careful not to confuse empathy with either sympathy, emotional contagion or telepathy. Sympathy is the feeling of compassion for another, the wish to see them better or happier, often described as "feeling sorry" for someone. Emotional contagion is when a person (especially a child or a person in a mob) identifies with strong emotions others are showing and becomes subject to the same emotions themselves. Telepathy is a controversial paranormal phenomenon, which differs in that empathy is based not upon the paranormal but upon sophisticated processing of what is seen and heard in the usual way.
Sympathy is, "I'm sorry for your pain."
Emotional Contagion is, "I feel your pain."
Empathy is, "I understand how you feel."
Telepathy is, "I know how you feel because I'm reading your mind.""
Six months into this year. Almost 12 full months since I gave birth to Phoenix. Worlds of professional projects and logistical movements and now I find myself in the middle of yet another Mercury Retrograde and I tell you, life is still whirling around me, offering me all sorts of tantalizing options.
Trajectories implore me to choose them. Opportunities are everywhere.
But my main focus for this past year, of course - the "maternal preoccupation" that overrides all else - has been my baby son.
I will always be able to manifest new opportunities, pluck out new threads from the quanta. But these are the days where he is being shaped, where he is looking to me to know what to do, and how to be in the world.
This is a big responsibility - none of us wants to consciously pass down a legacy of fear, limitations or emotional baggage to our children. We want them to embrace all the possibilities of the world, we want to give them the world, as much as we can.
I know this - that I would rather train his mind to be disciplined and determined than buy him toys. I will encourage his problem solving and strategy skills, his cleverness, his strength, his freedom to express. I will teach him that there is always a way to get what you want - when you know what you want, and you want it enough.
My in-laws are visiting from the UK - and spending time with their grandson, finally. It's so lovely to make memories together with family. And I am so blessed and thankful to have such closeness and unconditional love in my own family.
I feel as if I've been sleep-walking for the past few months - and finally, perhaps as a result of my recent illness, the fever has finally broken and I can see more clearly my purpose and my goals, my true allies and the best uses of my energy in this lifetime.
For anyone who has ever had to part ways with a loved one, an open letter shared, but meant for one.
---
We are both experts in recapitulation and crafting the optimal story to express our understanding of a situation. That is how we move forward in life. Rationalizations and Understanding Why - we pursue these things to give closure, to justify and accept change.
At the very Meta, for the infinite myriad of trajectories that has now opened up for us both, this parting is a Gift.
We got to know what it was like to experience a relationship with an equally awakened and powerful partner. We saw elements of ourselves in each other that reflected aspects we liked to or needed to see. We have derived valuable learning and experienced growth during the tenure of our relationship. In any relationship, romantic, business or friendship - there are depths of trust, intimacy and love that can be achieved. And I think we did pretty well. This is why I do not hold any part of my relationship with you as a disappointment or betrayal. Those are heavy things to hold. A drag coefficient. I know we have been blessings to one another. But its time to invest my energies elsewhere.
We just couldn't keep moving forward, because our mutual paths are at a necessary point of divergence. Our next level must be something we haven't been able to see or grasp because we have become too clouded with the vision we have been trying to force. This is the sign to let go, say thank you, bless you, and then turn your head to other visions, with full knowledge of my unspoken acknowledgement of my confidence, love and support of you, even as I move in a different direction. In my opinion, which of course you may or may not share, anything less than accepting this basic and encompassing truth, is an interpretation lacking in enlightenment or true compassion. Unconditional love is based upon this understanding.
Mutually arising, and always with more love, because love is abundant and compassion is infinite.
Carmen
It's been 5 years since my father passed away. It was 2003 and I was living in San Francisco in the Richmond District. My own grief has finally transformed - into strength, compassion, and refined selective memories of his better attributes.
In 2004, my close friend Max taught me about a tradition in his family - where on the anniversary of his loved one's death, he would go and eat that loved one's favorite foods - a ritual which I brought to my family. We're big on eating anyway, but this really brings comfort and a new context of joy to an otherwise potentially dismal day.
My father died of a heart attack - he had few vices besides gluttony and sloth. Both those vices, as we know, are deadly, especially to someone with pre-existing hypertension, previous strokes, sciatica, and Type II diabetes. So, its a bit morbid to run down the list of his favorite foods, because they know doubt contributed to his demise. But here goes:
Wherever we are in the world, our family texts each other "what are you eating for Pa?" This year, my sister Toni, cousin Danielle and my baby Phoenix and I ate corned beef, fried eggs and rice.
While I don't condone "eating your feelings" per se - this is a little different. Maybe Pa is experiencing his foods through us. But basically, it's a way for us to remember him, without sorrow, and instead, celebrate him, together, and all the memories that foods evoke.
If you want to remember your departed loved ones in a way that makes you smile, share, delight in taste, and even burp contentedly (instead of crying and being all bummed out) - please Eat for your Pa, too.
The single most articulated value in the work of Machiavelli is virtú (Latin virtus), which is related to our word, "virtue." Machiavelli means it more in its Latin sense of "manly," but individuals with virtú are primarily marked by their ability to enforce their will on volatile social situations. They do this through a combination of strong will, strength, and brilliant and strategic calculation. In one of the most famous passages from The Prince , Machiavelli describes the proper orientation towards the volatility of the world, or Fortune, by comparing Fortune to a lady: "la fortuna é donna," or "Fortune is a Lady."
Machiavelli is referring to the courtly love tradition, where the lady that constitutes the object of desire is approached and entreated and begged. The ideal Prince, however, for Machiavelli does not entreat or beg Lady Fortune, but rather physically grabs her and takes whatever he wants. This was a scandalous passage and still is today, but it represents a powerful translation of the Renaissance idea of human potential to the area of politics.
For if, according to Pico della Mirandola, a human being can self-transform into anything it wants, then it must be possible for a single, strong-willed individual to order the chaos of political life.
Be Content with what you have; rejoice in the way things are. When you realize there is nothing lacking, the whole world belongs to you.
Time is a created thing. To say ‘I don’t have time,’ is like saying, ‘I don’t want to.’ - Lao Tzu
Aut viam inveniam aut faciam - [ I will either find a way or make one ]
The question isn't who is going to let me; it's who is going to stop me. - Ayn Rand
Continue reading "My 33rd bday - the JESUS year, I mean the DE JESUS year!" »
"Persons of high self-esteem are not driven to make themselves superior to others; they do not seek to prove their value by measuring themselves against a comparative standard. Their joy is being who they are, not in being better than someone else."
- Nathaniel Branden
"If you insist on leaving your fate to the gods, then the gods will repay your weakness by having a grin or two at your expense. Should you fail to pilot your own ship, don't be surprised at what inappropriate port you will find yourself docked. The dull and prosaic will be granted adventures that will dice their central nervous systems like an onion, romantic dreamers will end up in the rope years...The price of self-destiny is never cheap, and in certain situations it is unthinkable. But to achieve the marvelous, it is precisely the unthinkable that must be thought." -- Tom Robbins, Jitterbug Perfume
"When we talk about motivation, it goes back to this concept we have of intention. A motivated person is generally thought of as someone who has goals and objectives and is trying to get someplace else, and has an inner vision of where they would like to be. They work hard, they get up early and leave a little bit late and have all kinds of good work habits.
They’re said to be highly motivated. That’s not inspiration. Motivation is when you get hold of an idea and you take it with you and carry it through to its logical conclusion. That’s a motivated person. Inspiration is the exact opposite. Inspiration is, not where you get hold of an idea and take it where you want to go, it’s where an idea gets hold of you and it takes you where you were intended to go in the first place."
From an interview with Wayne Dyer. I'm tired of being motivated. I want to live inspiration again.
Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back. Always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative and creation, there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plan - that the moment that one definitely commits oneself - then, Providence moves too! All sorts of things occur to help one, that otherwise never would have occured. A whole stream of events issue from the decision, raising ones favour all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance that no man could have dreamed would have come his way. Are you in earnest? Seek this very minute, whatever you can do or dream you can do, BEGIN IT! BOLDNESS HAS GENIUS, POWER AND MAGIC IN IT!
Thoreau to kick off the year - "If you advance
confidently in the direction of your own dreams and endeavor to live
the life which you have imagined, you will meet with a success
unexpected in common hours.”
I am reimagineering my life, in a very quiet and profound way, carefully weighing and assessing each world I have in simultaneous orbit. Having my end year/ beginning year identity crisis.
My personal "new year" does not start until my birthday on February 13th. I have until then to craft this year's reinvention of my Self.
Until then, my activities include immolation, ablution, rejuvenation and then, rebirth.
Feeling the strain and the pressure of multiple responsibilities. Make me a diamond, pressure.
Just now, as I was awake at 1.30am-ish, I began to break down - the tears flowing out of the cracks in my tightly bound shell. Too focused on "How." I forget. Do not focus on how. Focus on the intention, big, bright and clear. Nothing can penetrate the laser focus trajectory of a well defined intention.
Desert winds blow strong outside. I hold the baby in my arms. The Podfather is away from us tonight. So tired, so much data whirling in my mind, the hierarchy of my priorities holding fast even through the maelstrom of competing desires and demands from the outside world.
The reset begins, the litany - wherein I rock and sway, the prayers of thanks and humble acknowledgement of the generous, compassionate and abundant blessings bestowed upon my life.
Thank you for my son and his perfect health. Thank you for my mate and his love. Thank you for my beautiful family and their support. Thank you for the love, support, guidance and protection of my loyal friends. Thank you for my purpose and the opportunities to fulfill it. Thank you for the experiences that have helped me to build the strength I need to approach my life with courage and resolve.
I let the gratitude and the abundance flow through me until I feel cleared of shadow, until my consciousness is filled with the feelings of blessings, fortune, grace.
Focus my intentions. Align my values and my priorities with planned action. Set determination. Breathe in strength. Exhale tension.
The earthquake came and went, during this ritual.
Words to calm. Words to create worlds. Words to soothe. Words to build bridges. Words to set boundaries. Words to express love. Words to summon. Words to invoke. Words to broadcast and bind intention. Words to cut through conspiracy. The power of words, the power of the tongue. Words to say thank you. Words to mark and manifest from the quanta. Words to order chaos. Words to prompt and expose.
I sequence my words to reflect the sequence of events I desire.
I remember who and what I am, and give thanks for all my Selves.
Continue reading "Post-Midnight Litanies summon the earthquake" »
Sometimes, the wanderlust surges to be unbearable. To travel, to get lost, to assimilate and wander, to sidestep this current life trajectory and be another me. I am envious of travelers. I feel a loss of mobility.
Home is where I do my chores, where I raise my child, where I work. I am here 99% of the time, 24 hours a day/7 days a week. I spend most of my time online, "goggled into the Metaverse" as it were, while my meatsuit, now executing the primary mode "Mominatix", sits in the same rooms, all day, each day - thank God for social networks, online shopping, twitter, email and IM. The internet is the only place I am free to roam, the playspace to match my mind's need for data and stimuli.
When I am not staring at a computer screen for work, I am looking at/after my son. When I am not washing bottles, doing laundry, feeding, changing diapers, rocking to sleep, singing, baby-talking, or grousing to my husband about the perceived perpetually imbalanced division of parenting responsibilties, I go to the Net because it's the only "me" time I have left. I can't visit friends much anymore, nor do they visit me. No one wants to bother me. Everyone assumes I am "overwhelmed" and "swamped" and "doing baby priorities" and it's true. And I have to remind myself that there's nothing wrong with being where I am in my life, that raising Phoenix is a worthy and important job, and that a mother should dedicate her life to raising her children.
But I have heretofore defined myself by my independent movements, my agility, my multiplicity, my mobility, by the dedicated maintenance of a network of profound long-term friendships.
So this current reality, laden with new responsibilities and priorities, cuts. Clipped wings hurt. I can't do much of what I used to, I can't be as free as I once was. So *I* can't be who I used to be. I can't get on a plane and lose myself in alternate realities as I love to do. I am bound to this life, now. Yes, I know I chose it. Yes, I know resistance is futile. Yes, I know this is my "next level" and "unexplored territory." Knowledge never really cures, it consoles at best. Weary sighs of resignation, useless tears, staring blankly at wall. Face the baby. Initiate blessings-counting sequence.
Are these unenlightened thoughts? Have I not yet completely surrendered to my own evolution? I look at my baby and know there is no other path other than being his mother, with all the selflessness and sacrifice of selfhood that entails.
The key to not feeling tired is not letting oneself feel, at all. Feelings are an indulgent luxury. Now is not a time to be bogged down in feelings. Not when there is so much to do.
From reading his books, and attending his Roadmap seminar, David Allen's whole point of putting things in the GTD system is to give oneself as much time as possible to relax, goof off, and space out. That's what "stress-free productivity" means.
There's a high associated to kicking ass under high-stress situations, a rush to the ego and self-satisfaction of multi-tasking efficiently. One feels superhuman, pushing limits of time and energy to the limit and expanding one's limits. I used to be prideful about this kind of plate-spinning-split-attention-multitasking proficiency. But what am I busy with? That's a Tim Ferriss-kind of question, to evaluate the "busy work," and if what I'm doing is worthwhile (also David Seah-style).
Sometimes, coming off a binge of hyperproductivity and an extremely fast-paced, high-octane stretch of work focus, it can be difficult to wind down. The mind's machine whirs and clicks and becomes greedily accustomed to crunching tasks and data. When the work is done, it becomes hard to relax, and in the absence of "problems to crunch" the mind troubleshoots even the most silent, content moments, for some new problem to solve, even inventing or exacerbating problems just for FOOD.
My point, and the point of all the thinkers below, is that the goal of efficiency and productivity is to create more space/time for higher level creative thinking, pleasure/leisure-centric activities and RELAXATION!
Let me summarize what I've grokked from these guys below:
David Allen: capture data in trusted system and set times/contexts to execute and review - goal of stress-free productivity; clear psychic RAM and be focus-efficient with the details, free up mindspace for abstract, genius, creative thinking. Goal: Chill time.
Tim Ferriss: Energy and time-efficient clients. Paring down to sparest and most effective actions, outsourcing, automating or eliminate all else. Work smart and efficiently to be more productive in less time. Goal: Chill time.
Malcolm Gladwell: Blink. I decided. Trust intuition about decisions and eliminate inefficient struggle or self-doubt. Goal: Chill time.
Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi:
"It is also important to develop the habit of doing whatever needs to
be done with concentrated attention. Even the most routine tasks, like
washing dishes, dressing, or mowing the lawn, become more rewarding if
we approach them with the care it would take to make a work of art. "
Likens the Flow state to the basic concept of Zen mindfulness. To summarize: GO WASH YOUR BOWL!
Goal: Chill out time.
Jim Loehr: As a corporate athlete, the most energy-efficient way to work is in sprints of hyper/productivity. Focus sprints allow for long periods of downtime to rest, recover, relax. Goal: Chill time.
David Seah: Be aware of how you spend your "billable hour" and if what you're doing is the best use of your time. Do what's the best use of your time and skillset, don't waste time doing what's beneath your skill level if you can help it. Goal: More chill-time.
Lesson: It's all about chill time. Being productive, getting tasks done should make you feel relaxed as your reward. As you are rushing about, crossing off your action items, remember to not only enjoy the moment of closing the open loop, but also consider that the elegant, efficient execution of tasks CREATES space for pleasure-centric activities!
So when your work for the day is done, don't seek out more work. Enforce a quota for "work time" with yourself, and protect and defend your pleasure-centric hours of the day, however you choose to spend them. Is there a switch to turn off hyper-productivity and multitasking anxiety? Yes. It's the same switch that turns on your thoughts of pleasure and leisure.
Here is Carmen's "Optimal Mindset" "License to Space Out" recipe, this is what I use to unplug and fall back into full possession of myself:
1. Stop all action.
2. Be alone in a room.
3. Lock the door.
4. Close the laptop.
5. Turn off the phone.
6. Hide the clock.
7. Drink some water.
8. Lie on the floor and be still. Stare at the ceiling or close your eyes.
9. Take 10 deep cleansing breaths.
10. Don't move until something really COMPELS you to move. Observe what motivates you to get up, besides eating and going to the bathroom.
Be still for as long as you can until something COMPELS you to movement. What's compelling? It's what YOU want to do. It's what you WANT to do. Not because it's expected, or you're obligated, or you want to prove something.
This is how I sort my priorities. By reminding myself how I choose my Next Action, based on what is important to me, and how I want to do things that concern what is important to me.
It's 5.30 am and I have been awake, Pod-tending, for the past 3 hours. Phoenix sleeps most of the day, which makes him active at night. Like a vampire. Instead of sucking blood, he's after all my energy. Not much I can do, not yet, he's not responding to any of my attempts to condition him to a sleep schedule, especially because he's currently experiencing a growth spurt that has him in Super-Fuss mode.
Sometimes a diaper change, a lullaby, a feed, cooing, cuddling or rocking don't do anything to mellow his awakeness. He's just alert, full of energy. I do my best to respond to his needs with gentleness and good humor. I'm pretty scratchy-feeling in the morning, but while he's awake I try to keep a smile on my face and in my voice. Sometimes I just have to let him stare at his mobile, or watch the shadows on the wall, and I'm on dawn patrol.
When this occurs, and I am in need of amusement, I turn to 3 little videos, which always make me smile:
I Love You Egg.
What is A Meme?
BearForce One
Good night. Good Morning. Good Night.
Today I broke down. It is painful to my ego to admit that I might be suffering from some kind of post-partum depression. But I have been a self-diagnosed "dopamine junkie" since 1999 - and I just realized that I am so Pod-focused, so depleted in energy, that I have no source of dopamine-production stimuli anymore.
The ego leads me back to thoughts of pleasure. Where are my selfish pleasures now? I have no pleasures of the body anymore, and when I even meditate too long on the lack of pleasure my only release is weeping. I weep as Phoenix cries. It is my only physical release and one of my only selfish acts these days - the mourning of my "old life," my freedoms, my mobility, my pleasures.
Ah, but there is the trap again - the backward glances, the focus on the lack. My friend Myke today reminded me that I should be creative, and not just online - but something physical, tangible. I could argue that I've just produced the most exhaustive and complete creation of my life. But he is right. It is imperative that somehow I muster enough energy and focus to be generative. Not just thinking of business/money - but artistically generative. This is critical to my soul, and to the nurturing of my Pod.
I've been worried about what effect this maternity sabbatical and shift in priorities is having on my career. I am anxious about how I will manage to return to full-time work focus mode and raise my Pod. How can my career advance if I can't take client meetings, or if I can't work overtime on innovating solutions?
I look at my tiny son, whose connection to the infinite was so reassuring when he was in my womb. I search his eyes and open my port, willing him to open up our telepathic link and send me glimpses of the future.
"How is this all supposed to work? How do I make it work? How do I find ease and balance in this newest level of responsibility and consciousness?"
He stares back. Clear grey eyes. Smiles, wiggles, looks around, distracted by the light. Pouts. Furrows tiny brows and grunts.
I weep as he watches and listens to me. The lyrics to "This Woman's Work" loop in my head, triggering fresh onslaughts of tears. . .
"I should be hoping, but I can't stop thinking
Of all the things I should've said,
That I never said.
All the things we should've done,
That we never did.
All the things I should've given,
But I didn't."
No time for thoughts of self. Self-care limited to that which is for the sake of the Pod - keeping my energy up, keeping my milk production up, having just enough patience to respond as much as possible to his needs with gentleness, sweetness, nurturing - because that is what he deserves. No time for thoughts of romance. Fresh tears. Dark, unenlightened, sub-optimal word forms and thoughts conspire with sleep deprivation and materialize resentments for which there are no cures nor justifications. I aim to just let the thoughts pass, flow through me, letting them pass.
Dining out on memories now. The dopamine junkie in me is starved, begins to loop back to old memories, if only to squeeze out any leftover chemical reaction to soothe myself. Then I berate myself for looking back. Then I berate myself for berating myself. Then I breathe and jolt myself back into the present moment. Must be present in the moment, musn't miss a precious minute of these early days of Pod's life . . . slipping away like wax melting off a candle . . .
I rock Phoenix in my arms, he quiets, I keep crying, a spontaneous force-restart litany of offering/acknowledging abundance. . . my litany of Thank You's -
Thank you for my healthy perfect son, thank you for my health and recovery, thank you for all the love that I am given, for friends, for family. Thank you for the sentience, thank you for this life, thank you for all the challenges which are so minor in comparison to the lives of those less fortunate, thank you that I have food for myself and can provide shelter and milk for my son, thank you for all my needs which are provided for. Thank you for my son's life and purpose. Thank you for my life. Thank you for my purpose, my purpose, my purpose. . . .
My purpose is not to satisfy my ego and its to fall into its traps of comparative successes. My purpose is not to be a career oriented over achiever, or even to be acknowledged or lauded for my achievements.
My purpose is the transformation and utmost evolution of my soul and awareness, to live with optimal energetic balance to give and receive love, to transcend the traps of the ego by living simply but with maximum sentience, to use my intellect, experience, compassion, skills and interpersonal intuitions to provide for my survival and the survival of my child primarily, and for the support and betterment of my loved ones/mutual arising, secondarily.
As an individual human on this planet, in this life, this is my purpose.
As I begin my lunar ritual tonight, I have a lot to reflect/meditate on, as usual. But the excerpts below are particularly apt. . . sigh. . . must. check. self. before. wreck. self.
New Moon Message from Astrowisdom.com
If you tend toward the Leo drama-queen spectrum of emotional expression, you could use this Moon to do some powerful healing work with your inner "enfant terrible". Reality-check Saturn in Leo makes this a very good New Moon cycle to take a hard look at your own emotional reactivity; especially if you suffer with mood swings. It is possible to love deeply, feel deeply, and create deeply, without wreaking havoc in your own life and the lives of those around you.
Leo often gets hooked into the importance of keeping up appearances (especially with Venus (beauty) in Leo; how we look, what we own, what we do, become, for many people, the definers of self. More than anything Leo wants to be noticed and appreciated.
Recently I've had a challenging time with someone who has been a best friend of mine for many years.
In short, I had expectations of his behavior, based on the tenure/nature of our relationship, which not met during the last stages of my pregnancy, during and after my childbirth.
So I've been harboring a growing resentment, which has turned into a Very Big Hurt.
Part of my whole "Optimal Mindset" is taking responsibility for the feelings I feel, and especially the feelings/thoughts I hold and allow to affect me.
It's usually not a problem, because 95% of the time I am "bulletproof" - in that I am usually unaffected by people's opinions of me, or their actions - I don't worry what/if people are thinking about me. I don't get my feelings hurt very often at all. Almost never. That's partially attributed to my Aquarian detachment, but also to a very solid, and well-planted sense of self-worth and value that I have quietly cultivated throughout my life.
Unless. . . unless. Unless you are in one of the closest degrees of the concentric circles outlying my deepest heart. Unless you are one of my most trusted, tenured and intimate friends - which of course, resultingly comes with high expectations of care and behavior.
But wallowing in resentment and "hurt feelings" isn't very enlightened, and I do actively STRIVE to rise above the petty conflicts of my ego within this human meatsuit. Here is my Checklist for "When I feel Hurt" - which is what I use to gain balance:
1) Is the behavior something i don't like in myself reflected in the other?
2) No victim mentality allowed
3) What's the optimal/enlightened response?
4) What would Jesus/Buddha/Wayne Dyer/Ram Tzu do?
5) How/Why did I manifest this situation aka why did I make it "matter"/materialize?
6) What's to learn here?
7) What outcome do I want - and how can I take responsibility for making it happen?
8) Do I need to calm down? Are my feelings getting in the way of seeing things with equanimity?
9) Is my perception clouded by old baggage? Am I applying global experience to this local event?
10) What could the other person say or do to neutralize/appease me?
11) Am I being stubborn/childish/vindictive? Could I be wrong?
Still, it's hard to put this knowledge in action, when there's stubborn "hurt feelings" - the image of the ego with it's arms crossed, pouting, demanding mollification.
Some people think it's insane that I was updating my Twitter stream throughout my childbirth/labor experience - as in during my contractions, from the hospital bed, through my water breaking, my epidural, and immediately after pushing out the Pod.
It's not that I needed everyone to know every single detail. People WANTED to know - loved ones from all over the world were calling my phone, my husband's phone, my sisters' phones - all wanting to know if Pod had emerged yet. My loved ones, friends and family alike, were ENGAGED and INVESTED in this event.
I share my life online, and have been doing so, in various incarnations and under various monikers, since 1999. So I shared this experience also - as part of my digital evolution. It is also a permanent record, for myself, to remember the hyper-conscious moments - and relive them.
Photos of my beautiful son are here on Flickr.
Here is my/Phoenix's Birth Story, which I summarized to send to my in-laws, who are in the UK:
Phoenix Orison De Jesus Kenefick
Born Sunday, July 15th, 2007 at 8.43pm, 8 lbs 11 oz, 21 inches long, head 13 cm, after 15.5 hours of labor
I was scheduled to be called in for the labor induction on Saturday, July 14th, and the hospital told us to be ready to come in as early as 5am that morning, so that is what Matt and I prepared for. We waited for the call from the hospital - for an available bed/room for labor and delivery. It was so hot that day - completely sweltering - and I was so impatient to get "the show on the road" - torn between impatience and growing anxiety. We waited the ENTIRE day for the hospital to call - and I even called them several times to inquire - but the women in labor that day weren't giving birth very quickly - so it was just a waiting game - no one to blame, really - whatever babies were en route that day were taking their time.
Up until 11.00pm on Saturday night we waited. I called the hospital one last time to inquire - and ask if I should just go to bed and wait for their call in the morning. I was told that I could be called in at any time - even in the wee hours - 2am/3am - whenever. So I said, fine, I'm going to bed.
At 11.30pm, just as I had brushed my teeth, had resigned myself to waiting until the next day, and was getting settled in for sleep, I received a call - FROM THE HOSPITAL! The nurse who called me was the same one I'd been talking to all day - and she apologized for the wait - but told me that they were ready for me - and that I had 30 mins to prepare and get to the hospital to get started!!!!
The entire household, though tired from waiting around all day, sprung into immediate action. My bags were packed and ready. Matt and I collected some final things, and we took off for the 5 minute drive to the hospital, with my mother and 3 of my sisters (1 sister had waited all day, but then had to go home) in tow. We all descended into the lobby, where I breezed through Admitting because I had pre-registered a few days earlier. The nurse let us all in, and we were shown into our room. It was a private room - where not only the induction would begin, but the actual delivery would take place. We all settled in, and I changed into a hospital gown. My sister Zandi braided my hair, and I did a light make-up job to maintain a bit of glamour and presentability throughout the process.
The nurse took my vitals, had me sign some forms, and started me on my IV. My ob/gyn came in, checked me and told me my cervix was still completely closed, and that they would start me on an IV of Cytotek, which would help stimulate my cervical dilation.
My cervix needed to be 10 cm dilated for me to deliver. I was at 0cm dilated. So we had a long way to go. After they started the IV, I was no longer allowed to eat or drink anything except ice chips until after the actual delivery. Since we had such a long wait in store, they gave me some Benadryl in my IV to put me to sleep, so I could conserve my energy. I slept from about 1am - 5am. The nurse and doctor both told me that it could take up to 24 hours for me to achieve full dilation. They kept trying to warn me that the induction "might not work" and not to be disappointed or discouraged if it took a long time. "Some women, with their first pregnancies, have been here for up to 72 hours," said Dr. Ngo.
HA! Obviously, they didn't know who they were dealing with. I have very intimate communication and cooperation not only with Pod in my tummy, but with every cell in my body, and I know how to get all my cells and organs to work together in coordinated concert.
I slept, with Matt at my side. My mother went to go visit her station of the hospital - Postpartum - and they were short a nurse and asked her to work. Despite the fact she'd worked a full 12 hour shift the night before, and hadn't slept because she was also waiting up with us for the hospital to call, she decided to work a few hours to help out her station, plus she'd also be closeby to me. She was running on adrenaline - she said she couldn't have slept anyway. My other sisters went home to sleep.
At 5am, the doctor and nurse came in, and checked me again. HAHA! I'd gone from 0cm to 3cm dilated in only 4 hours. They were stunned! Heh. The doctor decided then to start me on the pitocin - which is what they use to begin inducing my uterine contractions.
For the next 5 hours, I dilate a little bit more, and the contractions begin - uncomfortable, and I put my headphones on and start humming and singing to breathe through the discomfort. As I was taught in my Hypnobirthing courses at my hypnotherapy school, I only allowed myself to think of the discomfort as "pressure and sensation" - and never even referred to my discomfort as pain - not to the medical team, anyone or even my internal dialogue.
At around 10am, and 4cm dilated, the discomfort becomes nearly unbearable, and I feel my energy draining from me as I try to breathe through it. I decide then it is time to ask for my epidural. The anesthesiologist, a wonderful and skilled doctor, comes in and administers the epidural into my back. I feel the numbness begin from my lower back, all the way down to my toes, almost immediately. My body relaxes - and about 30 minutes later I feel a POP! My water breaks!
The doctor tells me that now that my water has broken that I should dilate a lot more quickly . . . at 3pm, I'm at 6cm dilated, only 4 more to go. The contractions are more intense, and I can feel Baby Pod bearing down on me. I listen to my music, hum, breathe. Matt is at my side, holding my hand and pressing down at a specific acupressure point to relieve pain.
At 5pm I am 8 cm dilated. I rest as much as possible to conserve energy for the pushing to come. At 7pm I am 10 cm, fully dilated. The nurse tells me that Pod's head is still rather high up, and that althought I am fully dilated, I should wait until Pod's head drops down till he's almost right on top of my cervix, so I can minimize the time and effort needed to push him out. It's a nearly unbearable pressure I feel, but I tell her that I can do it - that I can wait.
Inside myself, I tell Pod we have to work together. I tell him he has to swim and squirm. I send him guiding tones with the hums in my exhalations. There is a monitor for his heart rate, so that with each contraction the medical team and the family can see where he is pushing and trying to make his way down. When he is actively moving, the monitor shows his heart rate is between 155 - 170. When he is resting, his heart rate goes down to about 130s. So I coordinate with Pod, and tell him "Let's go" and his heart rate goes up. When I can't bear the pressure anymore, I say out loud "Take a break, Pod" and his heart rate drops back to a resting rate of 130s. People watch as he responds to my requests.
Just after 8pm, they check me again. The nurse is astonished that his head has dropped down to exactly where it needs to be so quickly. She calls the doctor, and they prepare me to begin pushing. The doctor arrives, my feet go up into the stirrups, and my labor team of my sister Nikki, Matt, and my mom take their places. I can here a little voice inside my head saying "I'm coming, Mommy" and my body starts to shake and cry. The nurse calls this "the transition."
I push with all my might, turning up the music on my headphones so I can concentrate - because everyone around me is just yelling excitedly - Pushpushpushpush!!! - I am only listening to the doctor telling me how long to hold the push, and focusing all my thoughts on telling Pod it squirm and swim - visualizing a dolphin spinning in the water as it gives birth to its spinning baby dolphin - humming and breathing to envelope him with sonic lubrication and signal for him to lock on to and to guide him - telling him that if it takes every last bit of my life force, I was going to push him into the light. That was my focus - to give Pod my life force - even all of it.
About 5 or so cycles of pushing - and an episiotomy ( I had to be cut because Pod's head was too big ) - just a little over 30 minutes of pushing, I felt a huge rush and push as a live little person dove out of me!
He had a slight temperature at birth, so after cleaning and weighing him, and after Matt cut the umbilical cord, they let me meet him before whisking him away to be monitored, etc. Matt went with him, while I stayed behind to be repaired and attended to by the doctor and nurses post-delivery. After I was all stitched up and cleaned up, they wheeled me to the postpartum ward, where I rested. Three hours elapsed between delivery and the time when Phoenix and Matt were brought to me.
Matt stayed with us in the private room, so all three of us were together. I barely slept. The next day, my mother was scheduled to work at the hospital so she was officially assigned to the care of me and Phoenix, which was very nice. We all went home on Tuesday afternoon, where my sisters had prepared and decorated our room to welcome us.
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Matt and I did not attend any childbirth classes or trainings. All of these rituals, visualizations, meditations and practices I came up with on my own, a syncretization of prayer, meditation, trance work, self hypnosis, NLP, Hypno-birthing, tranceformational breathing, acupressure, mindfulness, and pain transcendence techniques. I made a decision to create the childbirth experience I wanted for myself and for my little Phoenix, and together we made it happen.
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