why can't I just keep my mouth shut?

I went to sleep listening to Steve and Dad talking in the living room. It was a nice, soothing drone, spattered with Steve's 'heh heh heh' every now and then, and the ups and downs in volume as the talk got exciting. This morning when I awoke I went in to talk to Dad for a while. We're only here for a few more days so I want to make the most of it. I got up to make breakfast, then looked at the kitchen table and saw Bill and Dad talking sweetly. I don't know how long they'd been talking, maybe 10 minutes, maybe 5. I don't know. I sat down and listened for a minute, then joined in. Bill left the table and went back to his computer. My stomach started hurting. I checked with it. I didn't let Dad and Bill talk. I interrupted and was loud and my imposing usual self. I don't like that. I didn't like that. I got tears in my eyes. I want to change certain things about myself, and that's certainly one of them. I miss a lot of things because I can't shut my mouth. Why do I talk so much? I get excited, certainly, I probably want people to think I'm smart or clever or HERE. Maybe it's the youngest child thing, having to fight to be heard all the time, so that when I'm grown up I don't realize I don't need to talk all the time and loudly to be heard anymore.

I asked Dad if I had interrupted, and he said no; Bill said the same thing. They'd gotten a good talk in. Steve gently suggested that next time I just sit down and listen for a while. So this afternoon I noticed Dad and Bill starting to talk about computer programming. I sat down quietly and just listened. There - that helped. My stomach didn't start to hurt, and I didn't get tears in my eyes. Maybe this old dog CAN learn new tricks. I certainly hope so. I don't want to miss a thing! I think for tomorrow I'm going to concentrate on just listening, and asking questions of others when it's appropriate. See how that feels. I'll report back, for sure. It's probably a long lesson I'm needing to learn, but I DO appreciate my stomach aching, letting me know that something's off kilter. If I listen to my body, I'm sure it will continue to help me out. I wonder what else is going on? I know I got that headache this afternoon when I started feeling sad, but that's a story for another day...

it's a(nother) miracle!

I've had a scorching headache on and off for a month now, courtesy of jaw displacement from my fun hour long tooth extraction. When I had that figured out, I called Tammy to come do cranial sacral, that miracle technique that saved my life a few year's back when I had other head problems. She worked on me the day before we left for Florida, but kept going, "Ooh," and tsking, so that I knew it was really bad. Everywhere she touched on my head it hurt.

So it wasn't surprising to me that over the course of these past five days my headache's gotten worse and worse, as I held my jaw tight through the crowds at Epcot, maneuvered through traffic on Interstate 4, and overall got more and more stressed out just from the travel. It's been a fabulous trip - don't get me wrong, but carrying my now 75 pound shoulder bag everywhere (anyone need a bottle of water, turkey jerkey, trail mix, bandaid, hand sanitizer, book, anything anything? I've got it right here... somewhere) didn't help my head/neck/shoulder/back issues. This morning (it's only 7AM now, so it must've been around 5 or so) I woke up with the pain that just wouldn't go away. I started massaging my temples and jaw, sutures on top of my head, digging my fingers into C3 and C4, putting my hands over my ears, especially my loudly ringing left ear, but nothing helped. Finally I stopped, and said, "I now open my head up and am relaxing and letting everything flow through me smoothly. I am in perfect health, and feel great," then promptly fell asleep. I haven't sleep for the past two nights, so this in itself was a minor miracle, but I think the bigger miracle is that I'm awake now (albeit still tired) but the pain in my head is greatly diminished. I keep reminding myself and the Universe that I am in perfect health, and tune in to see if I'm holding my jaw tight from stress or if I'm still relaxed (sometimes stressed but can relax it pretty easily).

I think of my friend Gail who's having bad dreams, and Melissa, who hasn't been able to sleep, and everyone else who's sensitive and experiencing all sorts of stuff right now - anxiety, depression, resentment, fear, anger, restlessness, and I send out a big burst of love and support and encouragement right now. Just keep breathing and walking through this current time - it's like that little part in the Everest ride where you get to the broken track and wonder where you're going to go next. You can't go forward, till you feel the car moving backward. Sure, it's scary, and sure, you're now moving BACKWARDS, but you get to your destination eventually, just not in the way that you thought you would. You got there by another route, but you kept going. The only way out is through - of whatever you're going through right now. We're all moving toward our reunion with ourselves and our memories and our consciousness, and I know it's going to be fabulous - THAT I've never doubted, even if I HAVE doubted the route I'm taking to get there. Does it have to be this bumpy? This up and down? This scary? But I chose it for a reason, even if I don't consciously know why. I just HAVE to trust in the bigger picture, so I DO, and I keep walking, making sure to keep noticing and acknowledging the sweet little miracles that continuously pop up all over the place, like my lessened headache. Okay, so that's a BIG miracle for me right now - man, that sucker can really hurt! Now see if you can refrain from singing Barry Manilow for the rest of the day. C'mon, I double dog dare you! {a true blue spectacle, a miracle come true... la la la}

deja vu all over again

I'd always wanted to swim with dolphins. Since I was seven years old and visiting Granny Meyer in Miami, seeing a pod of them (are they called pods?) jumping out in the distance. I remember something of me ached then - actually I wanted to BE out there with them, jumping, diving and swimming with them. Maybe I thought I WAS a dolphin. Looking back on different childhood thoughts, I now realize some of those thoughts probably weren't too 'normal,' but were definitely "Susie" thoughts that make sense to me as an adult.

So this trip I made sure to book our dolphin experience, and thought for sure I'd be moved to tears by the beauty of it all, but oddly enough, when I waded into the water and saw Dixie the Dolphin swimming toward me, that big dolphin smile on her face, I felt that something deep inside of me again, but this time it was a memory. I can't quite grasp the memory, but being there yesterday brought something full circle. When I touched Dixie's back, I know I'd not only gotten a ride with the dolphins, holding onto their fins, but had ridden on their backs. I don't know how I know that - I just remember that part of it. I also remember being underwater for a really long long time (aka "Whale Rider") without needing to breathe air. I breathed, but it was somehow a mix of air with the water. I don't even know what I'm saying as I'm typing this, I only know this is part of my memory. I felt Dixie's warm tail, and I remember hugging a warm dolphin, her rubbery body as familiar as my own. How could this be? I'd never done it. Right - THIS lifetime. My first thought was "Lemuria" maybe Atlantis - I don't even know anymore, as all of this is blurring together into one feeling in my body. I felt it again today as we pulled up to our condo in Naples and smelled the ocean air. I've smelled it countless times before this, but this time I felt like I was somewhere else, smelling this smell, only this time it was my Home. Again, I don't know what it means, but it means something different this time around, and I'm glad I'm where I am in my understandings so I can feel it in this new way, and maybe get more information about the bigger picture. Because at the end of the day, I'm always interested in the bigger picture.

I wonder what else I'll be feeling in a different way? I wonder if it has anything to do with these absolutely strange, bizarre dreams in the midst of restless nights with disturbed sleep patterns? Probably, most likely. I'm just riding the waves, my friend, these days, keeping my eyes wide open and walking boldly through my fears. So far it's working, and I feel myself expanding with every brave act. It's about time, perfect timing at the perfect time. Besides, what is deja vu but that new kind of time we now find ourselves increasingly experiencing? It's deja vu all over again... and again... and...

I don't wanna miss a thing

Apparently my website blog is inaccessible, so I'm writing in here again after a year and a half. That's okay, because I was redoing my whole website, anyway.

I realize I've become increasingly afraid for the past five years. Event after event would render me further paralyzed. First afraid for my children, then afraid of disease, superbugs, hospitals, prostates, aches and pains, jabs under my fingers, airplanes, germs, until I'm just afraid all the time. So it was no surprise that when we went to Disneyworld, I found myself game to go on all the rides with Bill, but also accepting that I shut my eyes tight at every turn. It's like that childhood "If I hide under the covers nothing bad can get me." It worked - I have effectively symbolically been hiding under my covers for a long, long time.

Standing in line at the Aerosmith rollercoaster ride at Hollywood Studios, the man in front of us heard me said I'm going to close my eyes for the whole ride. "But then you miss life!" he says enthusiastically. I lamely explain life's difficulties for the past five years (just saying it's been rough), but he's not having any of it. "Don't close your eyes!" he says as we sit down and get strapped into the car-looking car. Yes, my eyes are closed, as I hear the narrator say, "Hang on - 3-2-1..." and the car takes off at about 50 mph into the darkness. Yes, I keep my eyes closed for about 5 seconds, but then I hear the man's voice saying, "...but then you miss life!" so I open my eyes, and feel a surge of ... trust flow through my body from the top down. I get tears in my eyes, and I feel strangely protected and safe, careening 100 mph through the dark, twisting and going upside down. It's all out of my control, but I trust that it's going to be okay.

I scream at Bill, "Bill! I've got my eyes open!" I don't think he cares - why should he? He's got his eyes wide open all the time. We get to the end of the ride and I look for our pictures. WHAT? My eyes are shut! "I thought you said you opened your eyes!" the man who'd sat in front of us said. "But I DID! Honest!" I protest. Then I look more closely. They must've taken the shot right at the beginning when I DID have my eyes closed. Bill and the man's daughter have scared looks on their faces, but mine? I have a serene smile on my face, like I'm very very happy and calm. So I guess it's a start - maybe I need to gradually open my eyes to my life a little at a time, but hey - as long as I'm happy, I'll take that for now. After all, I don't wanna miss a thing...

my blog's on my website

I've officially transferred my blog over to my website at www.susanekberg.com. Check it out - you can even leave comments (and I DO love comments!). New - the nutrition page. New recipes every week, and updated events. So much so much!!!

oh what a tangled web...

this website, techno stuff. Don't get me wrong. My new website is absolutely stunning (check it out at www.susanekberg.com). I wanted a fresh look, incorporating what's important in my life - health, nutrition, current events, events in the community, recipes, and my own work and services. It's all such fun - typing in recipes, doing my blog, typing the events and news items. But I still wonder where it's all leading. I'm heading in four different directions right now, and I don't think I can do ALL of them, but I just don't know ... yet. So I keep doing the work, trusting that I'll know what to do when the time comes. At least I'm glad that this current energy thing has lifted, or that we've walked through it. It was intense! I've heard from a good friend that her husband has liver cancer, and another is leaving her husband, and another is moving from the state, and this is just this past week. Changes changes everywhere and not a stable moment anywhere, it seems. But it's okay, really. It's just that I'm craving sugar, well, mostly chocolate, but at least I'm walking every day, but I notice this phenomenon, and I wonder what it means - is it because the weather is turning, and I find comfort in chocolate? Well, duh, but besides that, what IS it? Lack of sunshine? Lack of forward movement, even though it's slow? I know Steve feels the same way, okay, almost everyone I know feels the same way, so we're in this together, but it still sucks sometimes. But again, it's all good - I know I'll be just fine, just like I know you'll be just fine. I think if I didn't have my work, I'd be a hurting unit. Because when I'm working, and in that beautiful peaceful still place, I KNOW. The trick is to remember that I'm always in that place, even when I'm NOT working - that's the trick. So tonight I take deep breaths, watch iCarly goes to Japan with Bill, then travel west to Dad's until Wednesday. Fun times, good times, family times. I'll try not to worry about anything, or plan anything, or think beyond this next moment. But sometimes that's hard to do - I just like to KNOW, you know?

But at least the website's up and running. Baby steps, baby steps. Today, my website, tomorrow, that project, or maybe that other thing that's in the works, then all of my writing projects and nutrition program. On and on and on. Maybe I'll just drink my green tea and watch "Ugly Betty."

a little Rusty

I wrote this piece early this morning. It was simple. It was direct. But it is not what I wanted to say. Well, maybe it was one side of what I wanted to say, but this is another side that I will leave on my blog. What I want to say is that things aren't black and white - they are all shades of gray. And although both Steve and I are 99% easygoing, when that 1% falls in opposite corners, the fur flies. That's how it's always been, and I know this, but it's interesting that it keeps coming up. Over and over again. Yes, they are all wonderful opportunities to look at unfinished business, but sometimes, just sometimes, I'd like it just to be easy. But how could it necessarily be easy when you're in close community with a husband, 4 children, two dogs, one fish, two hermit crabs, one turtle and one cat? On some levels, yes, we can MAKE our lives easy, but it's complex, those webs of connection between us all. How do we treat each other? How do we see each other? What makes us stay?

So I wanted to talk about our elderly dog Rusty who is in a lot of pain, and I wanted to talk about the difficult decisions around the end of his life, and how we all want that to look. And about how we all see things differently. And that's okay. The key seems to be how to all live with those decisions.