We don't all get 80 years

Jennifer says: Last week my son’s grandmother was taken off life support after a sudden, massive stroke. She was about 80. Although she didn’t have a close relationship with any of us, we were of course saddened that we wouldn’t ever get the chance to become closer. She was a very strong woman who raised her six children on her own much of the time because her husband was frequently transferred to different locations. She wanted to be a teacher, and did so for a while, until she changed careers for financial reasons. She traveled, had lots of family and friends around and was respected by those people who she helped improve their lives. During this reflection on her passing and the things I’d learned about her over the years, I believe she’d lived a pretty full life. The other part of that reflection is that we don’t all get 80 years. I know it’s cliché but there’s a lot of truth in sayings like “Live each day like it’s your last.” I also know that’s not always feasible because of obligations. Most of need to get up and go to work, pay the bills, clean the house, take care of the kids and so on. In between doing what we have to, I think we need to find the time to do what we want to. Whatever that may be. It’s up to us to find that balance and pursue our own version of happiness while dealing with the necessities. So this is what I’ve learned from this experience: 1. I want to have a more joy in my life. 2. I would like to stop worrying so much about certain issues. 3. There will be drama in many family situations and I can choose how, or even – if, I want to deal with it. 4. I would like to shift some of my priorities. 5. I’m thankful that my sons and I still have my mother: and I think we do have a pretty close relationship despite the physical distance. Rest in peace K.S.H.

Heal Thyself

Susan says: Greetings Readers and sorry for my absence. Gratitude to Jennifer for keeping our wee blog up to date with her usual wit and insight and with no help from me at all. Thank you!

I was in Indiana with my parents and sister. I went because my sister Karen was not feeling well. She has been in Zambia the last ten years, so we see each other infrequently. When I heard she was coming over for her health, I could not pass the opportunity for a visit. (The picture is my mom and my sister and her new friend "Oscar") When I stepped off the plane, my father informed me that Karen had been diagnosed with cancer. “What? No! No! No! No! No! Not the beautiful, sweet, tall and friendly, wise one! Not the selfless servant to humanity that is devoting her life to a noble cause in a faraway land…” Denial, denial, tears, tears, more denial, more tears. Then a bit of calm.

You always start out imagining the worst. It’s an hour’s drive from the airport to my parents’ house, where she is staying. So my dad and I had an hour to digest together the prospects of facing a future as an only child. What would it mean for my parents? What would it mean for her husband and two young sons? What would it mean for me? Well, we didn’t want to dwell on that too much. As we drove along, covering the miles between Indianapolis and Bloomington we settled our resolve to both go in there with smiling faces and lots of love and encouragement.

I went to Indiana, because I was going to "fix her - make her better". I just knew in my mind that I could help facilitate some kind of healing. I did not know at that time she had cancer. I was reading a book by Barbara Brennen, Hands of Light and in it she talks about the kinds of things that can bring cancer and disease onto a person like forgetting who you are, forgetting to center on the essentials of love, life and joy. I thought “yeah, yeah, this is good stuff.” Of course, I knew I couldn’t make her better in that outside influence sort of way or by magic or any such thing, or even that any kind of healing would come from me. But I did really feel like I could help her make herself better by guiding her to think about things in a certain way and maybe by channeling healing energy and helping the angels to find her. I hoped I could help to get her energy flowing back through those shut down parts of herself and better balanced through her body and fields. One time, right in the beginning, I woke up in the middle of the night and since we were sharing a room, I just woke up with these images of myself shooting fireballs with great tails of light into her errant and ailing lymph nodes. I'm sure you can imagine there are many lessons in this for us, the family, and detachment is certainly one. Not knowing the outcome - for us of course the most logical is that she gets better and goes on to raise her two little sons and be the wonderful person she is, loving and growing and having her beautiful effect on the world. But we don't know what will happen; maybe that is not part of the plan. Still I cannot shake this absolute positivity that she can make herself completely healthy again if she believes that she can. On the other hand, I don't want to believe that if she does not recover, it is somehow her fault - she did not believe strongly enough. So I was just there helping to facilitate unity with all the personalities and be supportive and do mundane things and cook and try to laugh a lot. I know it's her journey (well, it is all our journey, but the sick part is hers) but I really wanted to help her get over a hump that I could see.

We worked a lot with mental imaging, posting signs all over the house reminding us to give thanks for her perfect health. We asked important and difficult questions and talked and talked and thought about it all a lot. We did projects and sang songs and a lot of massaging and some guided meditations. And we tried to laugh as much as we could. It was an interesting time for the family since it was just Karen and I and our parents – just as it was when we were growing up, some old feelings and issues came up, stuff we hadn’t thought about in years; sibling rivalry stuff and parent/child stuff. We had some good talks about that and we prayed and prayed and prayed. (If there was ever a miracle prayer it is that Long Healing Prayer from the Baha’i Writings.) We got news from friends and family all over the globe of their prayers and well wishes. It was a comfort to know that so many people were in on the “battle” with us. We dealt with all the technical and medical aspects of this illness “to do chemo or not to do chemo, that is the question” with the aid of some wondrous physicians. Her husband and sons joined us from Zambia in the last days of my visit and we had snow fights and Scooby Doo.

It has been about a month now that we have known this news and what an odyssey it has been. It really does change the way you look at things. I think we have all run the full gamut of emotions about ten times over in the last month. But there is good news. Karen is feeling very good and responding well to the treatments she is taking. She is still not out of the woods, still undergoing diagnostics but it is all looking…encouraging. We do find ourselves wondering, marveling even at the power of prayer and love and solidarity and positivity. I’m so happy I have Karen for my sister. I’m so happy I have my mom and my dad. We are a good bunch and I love them all so much, lucky me.

So that has been my month. The next phase of the New Year. Whew. I gotta wonder what is coming next. I will keep you posted.

Monday's Quote

"Every man dies, not every man truly lives."

From the movie "Braveheart"

Monday's Quote

" Be yourself. Everyone else is taken."

Oscar Wilde

How much do we need?

Jennifer says: Marcus Aurelius Antonius once said “Very little is needed to make a happy life”. I believe this. I also believe many of us have lost sight of this and perhaps because of the economy we’re being forced to re-evaluate our priorities.

The effects of this downturn have been hard for the majority and devastating for some. I’ve had family members and friends who’ve lost their jobs and nearly everyone I know has had to cut back on expenses. It seems like we’ve let an irrational need to keep up with everyone who we perceive leads a better life than we do, dictate our spending habits. Marketing has also perpetuated this need: to the substantial detriment of us all. At least that’s my opinion. Just look at the TV commercials. Two neighbors in their driveways washing their cars, nice houses, white picket fence between the yards, kids riding by on their bicycles. One makes a comment about the other’s car, one smirks and one feels inferior. It isn’t enough to have a sensible car. You’ve got to have the luxury SUV with the leather interior and GPS tracking system so you don’t get lost on the way to your broker’s office. Why? It’s same thing with our homes. It’s no longer acceptable for a family of four to live in a modest home. Check out any number of real estate or renovation shows on TV. A family of four now needs a 5,000 square foot “McMansion”. Or the “Sweet Sixteen” shows where teenagers think its normal and expected for their parents to hire celebrities to attend their birthday parties and receive a $50,000 Lexus for turning 16. So back to the quote. I’m not advocating that we shouldn’t enjoy the best we can afford. What I believe is that we should stop comparing ourselves to what we think other people have and stop feeling inferior because of it. I believe if we took time to think about what really makes us happy and consider what we can realistically afford that we would be happier. For me it’s spending time with family and friends, shopping for bargains at Target, Chinese take out and reading. I just don’t see how struggling to pay for a “champagne” lifestyle makes anyone truly happy. What do you think?

What do you want to be when you grow up?

Photo by Jennifer Campbell

Jennifer says: That’s arguably the most famous, or infamous, question in history. By the time a person is five years old, I suspect they’ve been asked this question at least fifty times. Little kids usually come up with these great, limitless answers: astronaut, ballerina, princess…

Then as the years pass, something really tragic happens. They’re told they can’t be a princess. Or it’s not practical to think you can be an astronaut. The creative side is squelched. It’s squeezed into the box of society’s idea of what’s acceptable, what’s normal. It’s sad really. From fairly early most of us are taught that you’re supposed to go through school, get a job, get married, get a house…lead a normal life. For some, that’s fine and they’re happy in their existence. For others, like me, this existence feels like the blood is slowly draining from my veins. And with it my soul, my life force.

So, every five years or so, I change jobs hoping this next one will be fulfilling and somehow my life is going to start. Of course, it never works out this way. I continue to dream of the exciting life I thought I’d have with travels and interesting adventures to write about.

When I was a teenager, many years ago, I lived and breathed photography. I wanted to be a National Geographic photographer. I’d dream of traveling to exotic locales photographing breath taking images and writing captivating articles. I took every art and photo class I could. I took all the writing classes available. I excelled at them. I joined the newspaper, the photo club, the senior yearbook committee. Then I got a “normal” job, and another.

Now the sad thing is, I’m in my forties and still dream of being a full time writer and photographer. And even though I believe it’s possible, it’s harder to find my way back to when I was able to put so much of my time, and myself, into my dream. Now there are children and a stressful forty plus hour a week job and bills and schedules. I’m no longer accountable to just me.

I don’t know exactly at what point I shifted gears to the expected path. But I now realize that I could’ve been the writer/ photographer / mother and enjoyed the last couple of decades far more than I have.

I can now say that I am, finally, working towards my dream vocation. My calling; which I believe everyone has. My God-given talents. And I can also say that I am trying to steer my sons towards becoming what they want to be, not just what’s practical.

So maybe the question we should ask isn’t what do you want to be when you grow up? Maybe the question, when we are grown up, is simply what do you want to be?

By: Jennifer Campbell, writer / photographer

Monday's Quote

"Action may not always bring happiness; but there is no happiness without action." Benjamin Disraeli