Day 72: Not So Serious Accidents

A few weeks ago, on the night before my birthday, I wrote my good friend, Joe, an email.  I've known Joe since 3rd grade, longer than I've known almost all of my friends.  Joe and I were really close in high school and the first few years of college, but then he moved to Gainesville to be a serious scientist. Between school, work, and distance, we don't get to see each other as often as we did years ago.  Still, when we do it's like no time has passed.

I wrote Joe this email the night before my birthday because I realized that I had not done what I had promised myself I would do: call him on his birthday. Joe's birthday is exactly a week before mine and even with our busy schedules and intermittent visits, Joe

always

calls to wish me a happy birthday. You know how often I've had the forethought to call him on his birthday? It's probably less than half the fingers on one hand. Sad.

So the last time I saw Joe I said, "I am calling you on your birthday this year." I made this big deal about it, even when he tells me, "Nyssa, it's no big deal." It was to me, I thought.

Fast forward a few months and I found myself the night before my birthday realizing that no phone call from me to Joe occurred within the week prior.  Though I didn't keep my word I figured I'd do the next best thing and write him an email sharing how much our friendship means to me.  I may not be able to remember to call at the right time, but I can express how I feel, and I thought that Joe would appreciate that more than a birthday wish.

And he did.

So today I found out from another really good friend of mine, who's also Joe's long-term girlfriend, that Joe was in a biking accident recently. Her email said that it wasn't too serious but that he did have to get surgery and metal plates in his face. Though I was shocked by this news, I was calmed by the word that it wasn't too serious.

I couldn't help but think of that email I sent him a few weeks ago and how I was so glad that I wrote it when I did. It was my reminder that things can get real serious, real fast, and birthdays or not, I better tell my friends I love them and that I'm glad they are still here.

Life may not give me any guarantees but that doesn't mean that I can't give it gratitude. I am thankful to be here at all. And I am thankful Joe is still here too.

Day 71: Biking to Yoga

Well, first off I am thankful today that I finally made it back to one of my favorite yoga classes. It has been a struggle the past few weeks to make it to yoga class.  I have been getting out of work just late enough to miss most classes that I like to go to. So when my client for this evening rescheduled I said, "Yes! I'm going to yoga."

But not only did I go to yoga tonight, I rode my bike. I live only a 5 minute drive from the studio, so on bike it is a 10 minute ride, tops. With the weather cooler but not cold, this is the perfect time for an evening ride.

The class itself is a challenging one, which is why I enjoy it so much, and when I first starting attending it last Spring, I thought I'd be crazy to bike to it. Since I leave the class pooped, how would I ever get home?  But the more I went the more I found that I wasn't leaving the class exhausted, but energized.

So tonight I got home in just enough time to feed the dogs, change my clothes and grab my bike.  It was the best decision.  I feel like I used my body they way it wants to be used, needs to be used. After an hour and some of intense yoga and riding to and from I feel so

alive

. Why don't I do this everyday?

Then I suggest to my future self: Why don't you do that tomorrow?

Day 70: Another Birth Experience

Today I got to experience my 5th birth with a doula client.  Though I actually wasn't at her birth because it became a cesarean delivery, I still got to support someone else through the hard work of labor and the joy of holding your baby for the first time.

Each birth is a new experience. It's own rhythm, its own rules, its own ritual of welcoming in a new life into the world. There is so much about it I still don't know, but I'm learning more how as a support person, I don't need to worry so much about the medical side of it as I need to channel my own knowing as a caretaker of life. I'm not a mother myself, yet, but I know there is a deep part of me that knows how to do it already.

Although, I know enough to know that if I read the above statement years from now as the mother of a 7 or 8-year-old, I will probably laugh at how much I thought I knew that I knew. Just like how birth never goes the way we think, I suspect parenting is the same way, except it is everyday.

But for now, I will give myself the comfort of confidence.

Days 66, 67, 68 & 69:

I just wrote the word "thankful" so many time in one email, I decided to get back on the Grateful wagon.

For the past few days I have found it difficult to sit down and write about my gratitude. I admit, 101 Days of reflecting and blog writing is a pretty big project and I know I am a bit susceptible to taking on a little more than I can handle. So since I get to make the rules, I'm gonna combine this immense gratitude I'm feeling right to represent the past four days. Then I suppose I can be thankful that I'm all caught up! (Because it was weighing on me just a little...)

When I allow myself to get out of the mindset of "doing things right," then I just find the joy in what I do and however it turns out! Hopefully we can all let go a little more and just be in love with things the way they are.

Day 65: Ani!

Last night I saw one of my favorite performers live: Ani DiFranco.  She is a prolific folk musician who has stayed true to herself, leaving room for evolution as she discovers more and more of who she is. Through her growth, many have been inspired to be themselves even when that means being different.

It is hard to find the right words to say about the show, so I will just say what I felt. When the show started it occurred to me what a sacred space I was in. As I looked around, I thought about how most of the people there probably feel like outsiders in other places in their life. And in this space, they belong. You could feel it. 

We need more spaces like this. 

Day 64: A New Chapbook

Even though I already have 1 million things to do, I am so excited about this new project. Almost exactly, 1 month from today, I will be coming out with my first collection of poetry in over 10 years!

I got a call today from someone I met last Friday at the poetry event for YellowJacket Press.  He has his own independent local press and is hosting an event next month. One of the featured poets is not going to be able to make it and so he thought of me. Part of the deal is they will publish my book!

I have never been a writer seeking publication; my craft is performance. But I have thought in the past few years that it would be good to get some of my work out there on paper, that it would help expose my words to more readers. I just don't take the initiative. I've even had the editors of an literary magazines, upon hearing me recite somewhere (no doubt at a YellowJacket Press event) request me to submit work to their magazines. Have I, ever? NO.

So I take this opportunity as a divine request to get my literary ass in gear and put some work on paper.  I write because I want to share and as much as I talk about how we need to share at open mic, blah, blah, blah, I need not to be myopic in my sharing.  Yes, poetry is powerful when read out loud, but it can be just as powerful in the hands of another while they ponder your words in the silence of their heart. I see now that I need not to deny my words their power.

Day 63: Roommates who Garden

When I came home from work yesterday, this is what I saw out my bedroom window.

My roommates spent all day filling this new garden with new soil. They had put the border together a week or two ago, and have been growing some seeds in trays for a few weeks now. Almost before I knew it, things are ready to be put in the ground and now, look! There's some beautiful soil for them to go in. They inspire me to be less talk and anticipation, and more action and revelry.

I think a lot about growing stuff, but rarely actually make it out with shovel and seeds in hand ready to get dirty. There always seems to be plenty of stuff for me to do inside and then the sun goes down and its time for dinner and bed and maybe I will get to it tomorrow.  There is something to be said about doing now for what will fruit later. It takes a certain level of just enjoying the doing part.

So I am trying to do more for the sake of just doing, and not doing purely out of expectation of the fruits of the doing. I'm working on putting that home-grown salad that I may or may not be eating in a few months out of mind and just start enjoying digging in the sun.

Day 62: Full Day of Work

Though I, like most others, don't really want to work all day, I have to admit I have it pretty good. I had a full day of work yesterday, four clients, all in need and was at the office until 7pm on a Saturday. I took my forth client last minute and offered to extend my Saturday work day way later than usual, after already having a full day. It was one of those, "Well, because I like you, I will stay late." They are financially strained so I also saw them at 1/2 price.

I was a little worried that I'd feel resentful about working late for half of what I usually make. Lucky for me I absolutely LOVE what I do. By the end of the day I was feeling energized and accomplished and didn't even care about how much money I made by the end of the day.

I heard recently that happiness isn't about

getting more

but

having enough

. When our basic needs are not met, no food, shelter, or comfort, we are very unhappy. But beyond that, there's not much difference in the happiness levels of those who have enough versus those who have a lot. I'm not really sure where in that spectrum I fall, and I really don't care. Not only do I have enough, but I receive absolute joy out of what I do. Combine that with food on my table and a comfy bed and I'm ecstatic.  If I hated my job, I'd want more, but since I don't I can offer my service to those who need and be thankful for what they can give in return. Even if its not full price.

Day 61: Gianna Russo

One day while I was working at Sam Ash, many years ago, a guy came in to buy some things and we got to talking. He told me about this open mic near USF at what used to be Holiday Cafe. That guy probably has no idea that tip changed my life forever.

I started attending this regular Sunday night open mic and met my first poetry mentor, Charles Kory. Charles was in his first few years at USF and had graduated from the creative writing program at Blake High School.  Having listened to my poems for a few weeks, he said to me, "You know, you should go to Blake." I was already in my sophomore year at my neighborhood high school, but he told me that I can still get in my remaining years. So I took his advise and applied, a few months later I got accepted. 

My last two years of high school, I studied poetry with the teacher there, Gianna Russo. Gianna has been a staple of the poetry scene in Tampa for probably longer than I have been alive.  She helped me to write more, to write better, to help others become better writers through workshops. She took us to the Writer's Conference and guided us in the creation of chapbooks (small collections of poetry) our senior year.  My life was ever changed by those two years with her. I understood how the application of techniques to my self-expression created well-crafted poems, which often contained more truth than I was even aware of. It was through this process of creation that I felt a connection to something deeper. I would say in a small way, I felt like a mystic. Gianna was my experienced guide through these inner realms; she gave me the map to the intersection of my individual and the collective unconscious. She may not see herself this way, but for me, she was a shaman. 

Lucky for me, our relationship continued after high school. Almost 10 years later, I am a longstanding board member in her non-profit

YellowJacket Press

.  YJP publishes new chapbooks by Florida poets every year through two annual contests as well as hosts some of the best poetry events in Tampa. 

Though Gianna admirably hands credit over to her poets and students for their part in their creative work, but I will state right here that our love for our craft is no doubt infused with her belief in us. Though Gianna is not officially in the role of teacher for me, she still teaches me about community, dedication, and love of the arts. It is because of her the I KNOW that poetry can make the world a better place because I experience it.  She is just following her heart, but look at what beauty emerges from that. It's something that we all can learn from.   

Day 60: My TBI Clients

Years ago, I was hired by the VA hospital to come in twice a month to offer chair massage for family members in the poly-trauma unit. This meant mostly moms and wives of traumatic brain injury victims, who had left their lives from often across the country to be the main care-takers of their loved ones.  Talk about people that really need massage. There were  few who started to see me privately; several of them then asked if I could work on their son. This was how I began my experience with working with people suffering from a TBI.

It has now become one of my specialties. I have three clients I see regularly and cherish my time with them. These sessions have made me think outside the box of typical massage and learn how much communication can take place without words.  Though I can not "cure" them of their condition, or even guarantee that I can make them improve, it is obvious that they enjoy our sessions immensely. The mom of the client I saw today said once, "I think this is the only therapy that he really wants to come to."

These clients may not know it, but they teach me so much. Learning to connect with someone that can not talk, has severely limited mobility, and only sometimes is able to answer a yes or no question with gestures or facial expressions is possibly the most valuable lesson in human connection that I will ever get.

When I see them I have two main goals beyond relaxing them. The first is helping them to feel seen. Not just looking at the traumatized body in front of me, but the person within that. Though I am working with their body I left them know through words but mostly eye contact that I am acknowledging them as a person.  And it goes both ways, I know they see me too.

The second goal is to make them laugh. I'm no longer surprised by their ability to pick up subtle humor or remember a story I told them months ago. I know when they laugh I've connected with their spirit, and its in that moment they may forget their limitations or condition. Its in that moment that I do and all I see is a dear friend expressing joy.  

They've shown me that the way to deeply connect with another isn't through words or touch or anything that complicated. Looks and laughs, that's it.